Restaurant review: Soupe d'or at alcazar Gamal Nkrumah fishes in vain for his all-time favourite La Bouillabaisse Marseillaise Alas, it was a load of old froth, even though the setting was illusory reminiscent of an Andalusian alcazar. I sipped what is unmistakably my favourite soup with the intensity of a connoisseur sampling some little-known moonshine. La Bouillabaisse Marseillaise, it was certainly not. I was disappointed, and bitterly so. Make no mistake, the Citadel Grill is a fine eatery, but its Bouillabasisse fell far short of the real treat. Alas, it was not even Sicilian fish stew. Traditionally no less than five fish are served. In Marseilles, home of the best Bouillabaisse, (and that is what gives this distinctive soup its edge), seven different kinds of fish are used, not to mention the shellfish. The soupe d'or, or soup of gold, is said to have been introduced to the ancient inhabitants (Gauls, I presume), by the Phoenicians in ages bygone. The name of the modern version is purportedly made up of two French verbs: bouillir (boil) and abaisser (reduce) -- that at once is an indication of taste and texture. It takes long, and much patience to prepare the soupe d'or. Its cooking is a labour of love. Red mullet, red snapper, seabass, turbot, halibut and cod are often used, but some famous chefs de cuisine add sardines and others tuna. The trick is not so much what particular fish you add to the Bouillabaisse, but rather when you add the various ingredients. First, the fish stock: any leftover fish heads and bones. Please do not be put off. The fish heads are first fried while being stirred frequently and furiously. The constant stirring not only releases the flavours, but it also releases tension and takes your mind off things -- something akin to going to the gym. At this point drop in the bay leaves. Onions and leaks, sautéed in olive oil, are cooked separately and then added to the fish heads and the whole is stirred all the more furiously. Crushed garlic, a key ingredient, comes next. It inflames the senses and arouses the passions. The spices are added next: saffron, cayenne and a pinch of salt and pepper. The aromas, by now overpowering, excite the senses and uplift spirit and mind. Freshest possible seafood is used. And, exceptional care is taken to ensure that the right fish is added to this most irresistible of concoctions first, and which fish are dropped in last. As a golden rule, the more delicate and more delicately flavoured fish are the last to be added. The first to go in are the tougher-textured and more strongly flavoured fish. The stew and the fish are traditionally served in separate bowls, with the stew poured over slices of freshly- baked French bread seasoned with rouille, a spicy garlicky mayonnaise. My partner knew nothing of this, but she was not dining with me because she was hungry, rather to pour her heart out. A lover's tiff, I guess, and I am a good listener, I am told. Now she was laughing and talking, eating (actually toying with tiny flakes of fish), and even quite often, arresting the trickle of tears with her index finger. She, of course, took no notice of my culinary sorrows. The Citadel grill interior décor is, however, delightful. Ornate oriental touches here and there, mashrabiyas and mediaeval Fatimid and Ottoman cooking utensils on full display. The place glows in warm oranges, golds, copper and deep, dark browns. But its Bouillabaisse was thin and lacking. The rich creamy texture of the true Bouillabaisse was sadly missing and so were the inviting aromas. However, the salmon steak was quite simply divine. Juicy and tender, it was full of flavour. Every bite was sheer pleasure, pure bliss. And, like in all esteemed Italian restaurants, extra-virgin, cold-pressed olive oil was served first with aromatic balsamic vinegar as a bread dip. Starters such as Bouillabaisse or Carpaccio are on offer, but my advice is to give them a miss and dig straight into the main course. The Citadel is, after all, a grill. The Moroccan couscous was not bad, though. Very much like the authentic dish of the Atlas mountains of the Maghreb. Durum wheat semolina was cooked to perfection, exactly the right texture and taste. Beef fillet with Gorgonzola was on the menu, and I toyed with the idea of a Seabass Tajin (another Maghrebi entrée). Ravioli with goat cheese was yet another option, but I settled for the Moroccan couscous. Ramses Hilton Hotel 1115 Corniche Al-Nil, Cairo Open daily from 7pm-11pm Tel: 02 2577 7444 Dinner for two: LE350
