Restaurant review: Do, or don't Catch the Parisian chocolatiers if you can, concludes Gamal Nkrumah This café is no chic parlour for Parisian chocolatiers. Nor is it an old tearoom in suburban Cairo. The tables and chairs are mismatched. The layout of the room itself immediately conveys a sense of an amateurish air. There is little that is sexy or beguiling about Do Paris except perhaps the whiff of shisha, the hubble-bubble, everywhere. The place itself is a bit of a hubble bubble and the food a tad Bubble and Squeak, that disgusting English dish composed of leftover cabbage, carrots and Brussels sprouts, except that it is served disguised as sugary juices instead of with the traditional baked beans. It is obviously a place where the customer has to become very good at making do. There is nothing edible that promises much. Don't expect a six-course meal with matching wines. At any rate it is vaguely food-related. Do Paris is affordable, but remember that not all that is cheap is necessarily cheerful. Fruit juices can be revoltingly watery or unctuous, jellified concoctions. Sandwiched between the Nile and a bohemian, buzzing Maadi, Cairo's leafiest suburb, is a quirky place called Do Paris, whatever that means. The name of the place itself is idiosyncratic and the interior décor decidedly bizarre. Gold leaves, or rather gilded floral designs, hang from a nondescript ceiling. So flamboyant embellishments can also be found at Do Paris. Browns, to Queen Tiye's repugnance, predominate and beige, too. But it is the odd gold that catches your eye. The glitter of gold in jewellery, and even as far as appurtenances, shoes, sandals, handbags or even certain items of clothing are concerned is acceptable. Yet gold leaves dangling from ceilings inevitably invites an intense cultural exchange. There is nothing so vulgar as gold in an inelegant setting. I joined Queen Tiye at a table with our mutual friend, the platinum blonde. She flicks through the menu. She looks horrified. Although the menu is in English, it is unreadable; one literally has to guess what every word means. The spelling is atrocious and the descriptions of dishes and drinks are utterly confusing. "This is the sort of café one detests and yet pops back the next day," Queen Tiye turns up her nose, nostrils flared. "We're not fussy, are we?" The platinum blonde has decided demurely to turn a blind eye to the colour scheme or is actually colour blind for the time being and takes a back seat. Queen Tiye is greeted by several waiters, and noticed by even more customers. Do Paris is across the street from Sadat Academy, and so the café is frequented by students, mostly couples hopelessly in love. "It is nice to see customers leaving the café happy. We are not here to make friends. Are we?" This is not exactly the place to discuss her peripatetic career. She has rehearsed her pet subject exhaustively and it is clear that this intrepid wayfarer is in love with travel, but not to this particular characterless corner of Cairo. She's far more interested in forgotten, off the beaten track frontiers. There is a special alchemy between cafés and shishas, hookahs, in Cairo. "If you think like that, you do go wrong," she makes quick work of her ice cream. We had not come here to eat, but for a coffee, mint tea or perhaps a freshly squeezed fruit juice. Matters eventually get underway when the shishas in myriad exotic flavours arrive. The waiters who appear as soon as we arrive bear this out. "There is not a great deal of graciousness here," Queen Tiye is at it again. Obviously miffed, the platinum blonde remarks casually that Maadi is a profoundly attractive suburb of Cairo. "I was very lucky to be in the right place at the right time. I really enjoyed Do Paris," she chortles. To which Queen Tiye promptly replies that it was not the pleasant paradise it once was. For an atmosphere experience, this particular café will not do. "While walking around this café don't forget to raise your eyes. There is a highly outlandish skyline of skyscrapers, beyond which are repugnant polluted skies. And you should never rely on summer or even spring for good weather. It is abominably torrid," Queen Tiye retorts. And with that sombre note, we dash out of Do Paris, a café that doesn't inspire one to be inquisitive about it. Do Paris Al-Jazeera Towers Maadi, Cairo
