Restaurant review: A drumstick with kick Alexandrine liver is no aphrodisiac but shank does it at Kazaz, discovers Gamal Nkrumah The 25 January Revolution has sparked off a flurry of nationalistic nostalgia and patriotic opportunism in the wicked world of Egyptian street cuisine. If you have a predilection for street edibles sold by vendors on kiosks in downtown Cairo's alleyways, then Kazaz, a junk food joint, has gone the whole hog and offers a wide range of Egyptian homegrown fast food designed to cater to revolutionaries with tidbits of consumable uprising. The Alexandrine liver was certainly no sexual stimulant, and neither was it a reflection on the revolution. It was Cairo's contemporary consumerism at work. The compensation for connoisseurs as far as Cairene junk cuisine is concerned is that it takes particularly well to aggressive flavouring. Alexandrine liver is an appalling example. I'm pretty certain most cooks are faced with a bit of a dilemma when confronted with considerable quantities of limp, sun-baked liver of rather poor quality. But the unpalatable stuff can be bolstered with coarsely chopped red and green chilies, salt, the cheapest vinegar available, equally inexpensive cooking oil, and more chili flakes. "I'll have none of it," I thought to myself. Dodging waiters piled with plates of Egyptian edibles, my companion and I were led past the takeaway section downstairs and up a narrow spiral staircase hardly wide enough for the two-way traffic it conveyed. I had long wanted to try this small and discreet eatery near Tahrir and Talaat Harb squares. I am, I confess, more familiar with the well-heeled Heliopolis, Maadi and Zamalek restaurants but many tourists, invariably of the backpack variety, frequent Kazaz. The bustle, the bonhomie reverberated in the tidbits that whetted my appetite as I espied the upbeat boys and giggly girls of Tahrir Square, and the sheer pleasure emanating from the youthful customers of Kazaz took me back to my salad days. Kazaz can squeeze in barely 30 people. The restaurant's tiny tables are of an eye-catching and coruscating canary in colour. They are daintily dotted with cute Lilliputian crimson and cerulean fishes. Orange crabs and other crustaceans crawl all around the diner. It did not take us long to order. Dolma was doomed in midsummer, and so were the colossal sandwiches that included jam with butter cream and fried cheese. Mexican hotdog and cheeseburger were also out of the question. I paused at the "meshed potatoes" and the "shrimp bane", fried prawns I presume. The fried beef fatta sounded abominably fattening. Fatta, an Egyptian entrée reserved for special occasions with red meat or chicken slowly cooked until tender, a sprinkling of toast and croutons, and the whole is drenched in a garlicky tomato sauce. I had never tried the fried beef variety before and had no intention to do so now. Being the carnivores that we are, my courageous companion opted for the Kazaz mix, a curious concoction of fried and grilled chicken; grilled and roast liver; and mincemeat sausages. I settled for the shank, succulent mutton that came wrapped in foil and a thick layer of fat that I instantly removed to reveal the luscious dawn-tinted flesh. Long-grain basmati rice, golden brown with the saffron and other spices, splendidly accompanied my dish and so did a delectable cannellini -- or was it plain old butter beans -- side dish. The meat literally melts in your mouth. I am, perhaps, unusual in delighting to savour the strong flavour of the mutton. I am not particularly fond of tasteless baby lamb, which in Egypt is deprecated as lacking in flavour by chefs and homemakers alike. Now we come to the epilogue with the pudding -- Umm Ali, Cairo's crème de la crème, is a trifle too indulgent and luxurious after such a rich meal. Rice pudding was, according to my companion, a cautionary tale of sorts. I desist dessert. Instead, I look longingly at my full glass of mint tea and down it as I request the reasonable bill. Kazaz Sabri Abul-Alam Street Off Talaat Harb Square, downtown Cairo Tel: 2392 3394 Lunch for two: LE150
