“The concept has roots in Buddhist teachings. Just as there are forms of meditation that involve sitting, breathing, standing and walking, many Buddhist teachers encourage their students to meditate with food, expanding consciousness by paying close attention to the sensation and purpose of each morsel. In one common exercise, a student is given three raisins, or a tangerine, to spend 10 or 20 minutes gazing at, musing on, holding and patiently masticating. “

Porn groove soundtrack  is completely optional.

Cooking Time: Boom Chica Wow!

Cheggit. 45 seconds

We’ve arrived to the point in this article where I explain what I’ve been up to for the past few months. I’ve mentioned before and elsewhere that I’ve started my own Restaurant Consultancy service for anyone who wants to improve their existing establishment or set up a new one. My first contract was with Rosso, a casual dining restaurant in Masaken Sheraton, Heliopolis.  To make a very long story short, I basically built the place: menus, staffing, training, suppliers, marketing – even setting up the Facebook page. Almost a year on, and almost 2 dozen chefs later, they still can’t get the basic tenets of how to make a good burger right. Standards, it would seem, are very low on the list of priorities for many Egyptian cooks. A shame really; my burger is something I am quite proud of. Everything else, mind you, is still excellent. So excellent in fact that I’ve been asked to help develop at least 2 more concepts before the end of the year. Exciting stuff.

Writing a menu with over 50 items is not as easy as it sounds: you have to include exact grammage for each of the recipes, and find reliable suppliers for each component. Then there is the small matter of making sure the menu has no “holes” – that is to say that there are no ingredients featuring in less than 5 dishes. Any less, and you run the risk of stagnant stock, raising overheads and eventually meaning that you have to throw out the smoked imitation crab sitting on your shelf for the past month because no one wants your crab and avocado surprise e (not a real item).

As a restaurant consultant, I am Executive chef, F&B manager, kitchen designer and QA auditor rolled into one. I recall a week long discussion about which plates to choose for the appetizers, a discussion that may seem unnecessary, but in hindsight captures the attention to detail that makes Rosso the great success it is today. Opening a restaurant is not for the faint of heart or shallow of pocket.

Over the course of the contract, I had to experiment and develop a lot of recipes, keeping in mind how it would affect work rate in a restaurant kitchen, suppliers, employee intelligence and reproducibility. By far the most difficult was the burger, since the potato Kaiser Roll I developed required a strict adherence to the recipe and steps; something most cooks in Egypt shy away from. The ground beef also is meant to be ground in a very particular way, without adding any flavors or binding agents other than a bit of salt. Finally, the actual cooking of the burgers was designed in a way to maintain optimal juiciness while cooking the burger to the temperature of Well Done. (Don’t get me started on people who eat well done.)

Funny story: I interviewed a cook who worked at Chili’s for a number of years, and when asked what “Well done” meant in terms of meat cookery he replied “good job”; as in the burger flipper had done a job “well done” by making a perfect burger. I did not hire him.

But the experimentation was loads of fun; and the opportunity was expanded further when a group of friends decided to hold weekly “Dinner Club” events where we’d each cook a dish inspired by a particular cuisine. By far the most difficult was the French night; I had volunteered to provide two dishes; a veal stew “Blanquette de Veau” and a dessert of “Tart au Citron”. The Blanquette was easy enough, and required no practice, but the Tart au Citron was something I’d made before and knew had little room for error. First timers need to be very careful when trying this.  The best advice I can give is to use a thermometer, lots of cling-film, plenty of loose change and to constantly pay attention to what you’re doing.

I had eaten a very Parisian tart au citron before, but I wanted to do something different to it; something that is unexpected but delightful when discovered. Taking cues from the Flavor Thesaurus, Heston Blumenthal and Marco Pierre white; including my own experiences, I’ve come up with the recipe below. The good people over at Buttered Up also just published a great recipe for lemon curd, which will definitely come in handy. When I’m cooking, I never rely on one recipe; instead, I read different recipes and techniques to understand the underlying ratios and proportions. Personally, I like a sharp lemon tart – I used to eat raw lemons as a kid – so you may want to bear that in mind.

Many recipes also call for lemon rind in the short crust, which I’ve found is very confusing for many home cooks. Instead, using cardamom seeds give the same citrusy note without the risk of bitterness from an improperly grated lemon zest. Plus cardamom is a great flavor and is in almost every single Egyptian kitchen: just open up the pods using the flat of the knife and ground up the seeds with the short crust ingredients. Remember that a little goes a long way. To finish the lemon tart, you can either add a meringue or a cheffy Brulee topping. One requires patience, strong forearms and luck, while the other requires a blowtorch. I personally like using an Italian meringue since I don’t have to worry about ingesting uncooked egg whites.

Lemon Curd Tart

Total Time to Ingest: about 3 hours. Totally worth it.

I – Short crust Pastry  [Ratio: Flour: Butter: Sugar 2:1:1]

300 gm Flour

150 gm Butter

120 gm Sugar

4              Egg Yolks

2.5 gm   salt

15 gm    Ground cardamom seeds (crush pods, and discard shells, grinding the black seeds with a mortar and pestle)

15 gm    Pure vanilla extract / seeds of one vanilla pod – OPTIONAL

• In a food processor, blend together the flour and butter till grainy like sand on a wet beach. Scrape the sides if you need to. If you don’t have a food processor, just go at it with a fork.
• In a separate bowl, blend together the Egg yolks, salt, ground cardamom and vanilla till thick.
• Add the egg mixture to the short crust and bring together into a coherent ball of dough.
• Wrap in Clingfilm and let it chill in the fridge for about an hour.
• Remove chilled dough and roll between two sheets of Clingfilm to a thickness of about .5cm or two one-pound coins stacked on top of each other. Let it chill again in the fridge for another 45 minutes.
• Now, here’s one of the tricky parts: remove Clingfilm from one side of the rolled out dough, and place the dough in a tart shell with the Clingfilm side facing up. This makes it easier for you to fit the pastry into the mould without it breaking up on you. Leave the overhanging bits – those will be cut off later.
• Remove the last piece of Clingfilm and prick the bottom with a fork.
• Take a large piece of parchment paper and crumble a few times to soften it. Place it on top of the tart dough and weigh it down with lots of coins spread over the entire tart surface.
• Place the tart dough in a preheated oven at 190C and bake for about 20 minutes. When it’s done, remove the parchment paper and coins and let it cool while you make the filling.

II – Lemon Curd Filling:

300ml lemon juice (not from concentrate. Fresh yellow Italian lemons are best)

300ml double cream (Juhayna’s whipping cream is best)

300g powdered sugar

9 eggs + 1 egg yolk

• In a blender, mix all ingredients together until smooth.
• Place the mixture in a bowl set over a pot with simmering water. Stir constantly till the mixture reaches 60C or till the mixture has thickened like custard.
• Strain through a sieve to remove any solid particles into a jug. Remove any bubbles or froth that forms with a spoon.

III – Final Stage: Bake the tart

• Place the prebaked pie crust in a preheated oven at 180C. Pour in the lemon curd mixture while the tart is in the oven – this prevents the catastrophe of spilling the tart as you move it from the counter to your oven.
• Bake for about 10-15 minutes or until the center is a little wobbly. The center temperature should be 70C.
• Remove from the oven and let it cool completely. This is essential!
• Trim off the excess overhanging edges with a knife.

IV – To Serve:

Brulee: After cutting out each piece, sift some powdered sugar over the top and lightly glaze with the blowtorch until a dark caramel color.

Pavlova-Style: take 2 egg whites and beat with a hand mixer until frothy. In a medium saucepan, melt 100grams of white sugar with 100ml of water until thick – just before the color turns a caramel brown.

Drizzle hot syrup into the egg whites while beating constantly. Eventually you will have a glossy meringue. Fold in some fresh strawberries and spoon over the individual portions of lemon tart. Place under a broiler for 5 minutes until the meringue has turned a light golden brown. Alternatively, you could have a go at it with your blowtorch. Cool for a few minutes before devouring.

When I can tear myself away from the Larousse Gastronomique, I’m studying Sarah Labensky’s On Cooking. Reluctantly I’ll peruse my copies of Gordon Ramsay’s World Kitchen and A Chef for all Seasons before diving headfirst into my own copy of Heston Blumenthal’s Big Fat Duck Cookbook. But the true gems in my collection are Herve This’ Molecular Gastronomy,  Harold McGee’s On Food and Cooking, and Niki Segnit’s Flavor Thesaurus. The first four are valuable for picking up technique and learning classic recipes. The last four are a boon to anyone looking to experiment with flavors once the fundamentals are well understood.

A friend of mine recently sent me a link to another great tool – I’m going to print this out as a huge poster and put it on the wall of my test kitchen. Check out “Taste Buds: Complementary Flavors“.

Enjoy, and keep on truckin’

7 minutes, boiled.

I’ve been on a bit of an Subcontinental food buzz recently; and an invitation to take AmounsBouche back to Essence Barbecue in Mohandessin was one i could not resist. We both love Massala at the Karvin Hotel, but being bound to the island of Zamalek and its immediate vicinity, we were pleased to finally have an alternative to the horrendous Nawab when the curry bug bites.

Nothing has changed from my previous review – the Pakoras are still among the best things I have ever eaten; pungently spiced with an impossibly light and airy texture and the potato samosas are little potato curry flavor grenades. We did not like the meat samosas, which had a strong lamb flavor, but were bland otherwise.

The kitchen clearly enjoys the process of creation, even going so far as to add a little black salt to the lemonade we ordered. It was a nice flourish, i thought, but it should have been announced to prepare us for the added twist. It was sent back in favor of the more boring ‘regular’ lemonade (but they did add a tinsel umbrella…) Probably more successful is their new Lunch menu, offering both vegetarian and carnivorous options for a flat price of EGP50. Included are four courses, and it can be ordered, and indeed is designed for, takeaway.

The service is still as fresh faced as ever, and the head waiter is more comfortable and familiar with all the items on the menu. We didn’t get a chance to meet the Chef this time, but if you take my word for it, she won’t be leaving cairo anytime soon.

Cooking time: 5 minutes

Risotto is commonly seen a starchy replacement for potato puree; Risottos are “sexier” than just regular mashed potatos. To have a risotto as a main course is derided as not being satisfying enough, a claim that I find to be very misinformed. Of my all-time favorites were the mushroom risottos at Eatalian (now defunct) and La Gourmandise (no longer on the menu). Since these are no longer an option, I’ve been searching for a worthy replacement for my mushroom risotto fix.

One example of rice cooked in Alfredo sauce can be had at La Trattoria in Zamalek. What I expected, and what I received, were two very different things. I expected a homogeneous creamy risotto, each rice grain distinct in its texture but not chalky and chunks of hearty flavorsome mushrooms throughout. What I received was the exact opposite, swimming in a Grey pool of heavy cream. Highly un-recommended.

Where good risottos *don't* come from.

Another perpetrator of risotto crimes resides at the Semiramis Intercontinental hotel, at their Italian restaurant, Pane Vino. Their risotto was a dry, cloying heap of overcooked rice, mixed through with raw mushrooms and a heavy handed dose of fresh cilantro. I don’t often send food back, leaving the half eaten portions on the plate speak for themselves, but this time I could not let this aggression stand. The manager was called over, who called over the chef on duty and both listened intently as I schooled them as to how a risotto should be made. Imploringly, they asked me to give their next risotto another try, but the damage was done – I had faith only in their distinct lack of culinary artistry, and that faith is unshakable.

“Physician, feed thyself”

To embrace this motto, I decided it was up to me to make my own mushroom risotto. I knew what my ingredients would be, but felt I needed to study up on the finer techniques of risotto making. I listened to Raymond Blanc, Carlo Gracco and Heston Blumenthal all explain their own recipes and techniques, and in the end, produced a plate of risotto I can be proud of.

Even though I love porcini mushrooms they tend to bully the other mushrooms and flavors and I’ve decided to leave them out of this risotto. But I do love shiitake mushrooms, which play very nicely with button and forest mushrooms; the trick is to know that the woody stalks must be removed or else you’ll be biting into hard bark in the middle of an unctuous and creamy risotto.

At the restaurant, I decided to make an Egyptian risotto, using Egyptian short grain rice and Egyptian mushrooms only and paired this wonderful risotto with a pan-seared fillet of Egyptian beef, seasoned with salt and nutmeg, and flamed in the pan. This little trick gives the beef a roasted aroma similar to a traditional kebabgy’s. When I taught my chefs at the Cairo Jazz Club this technique, they instantly fell in love with it.

You’re welcome.

Shiitake and Forest Mushroom Risotto

Yield 2 portions

Ingredients

• 75g Arborio rice
• 300 ml chicken stock
• 5 Shiitake mushrooms (dried)
• 10g forest mushrooms (dried)
• 10 button mushrooms, stalks trimmed and cut into quarters
• 20g Worcestershire sauce
• 25g spring onions, finely sliced
• 10g scallions (the green part of the spring onions, sliced finely)
• 35g butter
• 35g Parmesan cheese
• 1 clove of garlic, minced
• Salt and pepper to taste

Steps:

1. Bring chicken stock to the boil, and remove from heat
2. Add dried mushrooms to the stock and let them reconstitute for 15-20 minutes
3. In a heavy bottomed sauce-pot over medium-high heat, sautee the mushrooms with salt and pepper and olive oil until dark brown.
4. Add minced garlic, then immediately add rice; stirring constantly for 5 minutes
5. turn up heat to high, and deglaze with Worcestershire sauce, and stir till most liquid has evaporated.
6. add enough stock to barely cover the rice and mushrooms, and turn down the heat to low. Let this simmer for 20 minutes.
7. Turn the heat back up to high, and begin stirring the risotto constantly, adding a little stock at a time. this should not take more than 5 minutes till the rice is properly cooked and the creamy texture of the risotto is achieved.
8. finish by stirring in the Parmesan and butter. season to taste and for an extra flourish, add a few drops of truffle oil right before you serve it.

Cooking time: 45 minutes (including prep)

I sharpened my teeth, so to speak at the Cellar Door Bistro, from July to the end of November this year, and starting 1st of December, I took over as the new Executive Chef of the Cairo Jazz Club (and beyond? ). It’s been a tough month, retraining and reconditioning talented cooks who have been in a creative rut for the better part of a decade, and who’ve accrued years of bad habits (no color on sauteed mushrooms?!). I’m building the kitchen slowly but surely, instilling a sense of pride in every single plate of food we send out; I’ve even tossed out the microwave!

I hope I’ll see more of you guys come in for an early dinner at the jazz club, when the lighting is right and the sound levels allow you to hear the crunch of the triple cooked fries (ala Heston Blumenthal) in your mouth.

Stay sweet.

Cooking Time: None.

Marco Pierre White, arguably England’s first true celebrity chef, famously derailed professional food critics claiming that chefs were being judged by “those who possess less knowledge than (the chefs) themselves”. The first time I heard this, I discounted it as the rantings of a man disillusioned with an entire industry. But later, as I found myself occupying both roles – chef and critic – I began to understand it so much more. The heat of a kitchen during a busy dinner service is daunting and is not a place for the weak willed or those accustomed to a plush lifestyle. Yet, the men behind the stove are judged as though preparing 40 dishes in 20 minutes was easy. The writer must have an inkling as to what goes on in a kitchen in order to speak from a place of authority. This will help bring some objectivity into their reviews.

Cairo has a very vibrant dining out culture and the selection of restaurants and cuisines expands every month. Yet very few of these restaurants take local food critics seriously. Why? mainly because there hasn;t been a bad review in the mainstream media. If all the reviews are so positive, then why should a restaurant owner care when his restaurant gets a rave review? Just another 4 star restaurant, in reality, is probably not worth more than 3 stars. Still, there are some restaurants and hotel chains that pay attention to reviewers, “comping” the meals and doling out gifts in (often successful) efforts to skew the reviewer’s verdict. In my opinion, reviewers that accept these gifts run the risk of compromising their editorial integrity and should take extra special care to ensure it doesn’t affect their judgment.

The flip-side to the status quo is that any negative reviews are immediately shelved for fear of legal action taken by the owners. In the publishing industry, a bad review can very easily mean lost advertising revenue, and I have heard many stories of reviews retracted for fear of legal backlash.The complex nature of the Publisher-Critic-Restaurant relationship means that no single party is solely responsible for the current state of affairs. Freelance writers, such as myself, can operate outside of the system by self-publishing and foregoing any advertising revenue. Maybe that’s a step in the right direction for publications whose sole purpose is to provide reviews for the everyday consumer. And even salaried writers can refuse to review a venue that does not meet their standards; that way, only the press-worthy and praise-worthy restaurants make it into the media. There is one caveat, though: sometimes a restaurant is so horrendous, it must be crucified and paraded around for everyone to see. Cautionary tales make for the funnest reviews to write and to read. Case in point is my review of Armada Boat, which to this day is still one of the most popular articles on the website. Since they haven’t gone out of business, maybe its time for a revisit, n’est pas?

In all the reviews I’ve written for websites/magazines (including my own) I’ve tried to be as tough as possible where relevant; hotel restaurants catering to sophisticated palates and wallets can not be judged by the same yardstick as populist Egyptian restaurants, since each promise – and strive to achieve – different things. The kitchen’s timely delivery of courses, the demeanor of the waitstaff and the consistency over a number of visits have the most weight when coming to my own conclusion. The ultimate question for a reviewer should always be “would I stake my personal and professional reputation on recommending this restaurant to others?” We are what we say, and if what we say is not to be taken seriously, then we must suffer the same fate.

I’ve been accused of being harsh in my reviews; only 2 restaurants I’ve reviewed in Cairo received 4 stars, still only 3 more have received 3.5 stars and the rest all fell under the 3 star mark. I refused to give anything over 4 stars because if anything is deserving of 4.5 stars or the maximum 5, then it must be one of the most memorable and consistently excellent restaurants I’ve ever eaten at. That isn’t to say that I necessarily disagree with any review that has been awarded high marks, a perfect case in point is Soraya Morayef’s review of Belle Epoque, with which my only criticism is that it was too short (yes, I know, web-publishing guidelines and all that).

I’ve been disappointed many times; my (forewarned) initial visit achieving magnificence, followed by a repeat (unannounced) visit that failed on even the most basic tenets of restaurant management. Free desserts be damned: it’s like putting a band aid on an amputee. My father always told me the best way to rectify a mistake was never to make it in the first place.  I think I’ll stop here, because it will segue beautifully into my own review of the Kempinski Hotel’s Floor Ten.

Simmered, 2 hours.

Excited as I may be, it is nonetheless an excitement tempered by trepidation. You see there is a most regrettable practice in Egypt – Cairo in particular – regarding restaurants/cafes: The Minimum Charge. Initially intended as a way to improve the bottom line for the restaurant owner, the “Minimum Charge” now seems to be used as a screening filter for the clientele. The mechanics of the scheme are very simple: demand a high enough “minimum charge” and the lesser fortunate “B and C classes” will not come. This is economic profiling in action – your value as a customer is directly proportional to the fatness of your wallet.

Not only does this offend everyone I know, but I’d venture so far as to say that imposing a minimum charge actually hurts the potential revenue by imposing a maximum charge for the restaurant. Instead of ordering what you want, you end up ordering exactly what will get you to the minimum charge threshold.

The ire I feel when a waiter leans over to whisper, as if giving me a friendly warning, “But sir, we do have a minimum charge” rises like a tsunami of bile. Were it not for the company I keep, I would use a string of expletives and curses reserved only for the most heinous of personalities and follow it up with a destructive tour of the dining room, venting my rage upon the restaurant manager’s soft face. Sadly this all happens in my head and I, like most other patrons, put up with this abuse at the hands of an increasingly classist service industry. If there are any doubts as to whether or not this stratagem is employed to keep out the lower socio-economic classes, then ask yourself this question: are there any minimum charges in Boulaq or Ain Shams?

It’s the middle class that drives consumption and consumerism in an economy: that is your customer base. And in the year 2010, these classes have more disposable income than ever before, so why not let them spend it at your establishment? Unruly or impolite customers can be shown the door. Kicking a patron out for being an ass is one thing; but shutting out a patron for their social class or income level is a different, and darker, thing altogether.

Which brings to mind a newer trend among the “rarefied” establishments. During a recent phone call made to a popular Cairo lounge to place a reservation, I was informed that guests wearing Arabian garb or Niqab would be denied service. When pressed as to the reason why, the operator let it be known that the restaurant would like to bar entry to Arabian tourists. While this position may have been based on a few bad apples creating trouble, this type of profiling is nonetheless alarming. In a country renowned for its hospitality and status as a premier tourist destination, racial profiling at the door of a restaurant or nightclub is the antithesis of everything that is Egyptian.

Yet even so, a minimum charge would be tolerated if one could count on good service. It’s only fair that the show be worth the price of admission, right? No, dear friends, this is not the case. Some of the best restaurants in Cairo don’t have a minimum charge and have no problem with undesirable clients. And yet other restaurants – in an effort to impose an air of exclusivity and aloofness from the inhabitants of the very city they are meant to feed – demand these arbitrary sums of money from patrons as a promise of what they’ll spend there. From an accounting standpoint, it makes life easier – a ten pound minimum charge means that I’m guaranteeing revenue each day, multipliable by the number of patrons walking in through the door. But it only works if they walk in through the door to begin with.

Which means there is some hope: refuse to pay a minimum charge, and take your business elsewhere. Eventually restaurants and cafes will have to realize that asking for a minimum charge is both short sighted and outdated.

We are the customers, we are always right. We would do well to remember that.

Cooking Time: 120 minutes 60C water bath

In true 1980s hotel fashion, the poolside at the Fairmont Heliopolis has both the atmosphere and cuisine of something we’ve seen before in movies from a bygone age. At the time of the review, the Meshmesheya tent was not crowded; it was barely 30% full, but granted it was a Monday evening. Not that it could ever be filled; the tent is enormous, easily capable of seating hundreds of people. Large free standing outdoor air conditioners line the perimeter and alternate with 42 inch LCD screen televisions letting the patrons know what programs their missing, although it’s not like you could enjoy the fantabulous shisha, sit on the blue faux-velvet couches and actually hear the TVs. The sound of the nearby live entertainment, provided by a very 1980’s zaftig female performer is both visually and aurally distracting. But maybe that’s the point.

Right at the door, we were greeted by the picture of exasperation and poster child for unwelcoming service. Dressed in a Moroccan Dishdasha and an Egyptian Scowl, the hostess escorted us to a low table with couches with an excellent view of both the impotent Televisions and the virility enhancing entertainment. A few seconds later, the head waiter arrived to ask if we planned on eating now or later; the answer to which was a resounding and –by necessity – loud “Yes”. 5 minutes later, a basket of some of the best Egyptian baladi bread this side of the year 2000. There it sat, lonely and purposeless for another 10 minutes, whereupon a flurry of waiter activity deposited every single item on the set menu on the table at once. There was no timing of courses, no structure to our dining experience. What this inevitably meant was that our foul and omelet went unappetizingly cold as we plowed through everything else on the table.

The quantity and array of food served is very nice, but one could not escape the feeling that we had stepped into a wedding reception from a movie in 1989, complete with rowdy children dressed in tuxedos. The flavors were nothing spectacular and, in the case of the Sujuq and deserts, far less than spectacular. The only true enjoyment was derived from the shisha, which at 30LE, is still pretty steep.

Meshmesheya also serves Fitar; but the set menus are the same: A meatless Set Menu will cost EGP140 (excl Sales and Luxury taxes and Service Charge) and the same menu with an added plate of Mix Grill will cost 240 LE (excl taxes and Charges).

Cooking Time: 30 minutes.