Having a craving for savory Mediterranean fare to detoxify and wean from the heavily fried diet I’d been on lately, I was in the mood for some Greek cuisine this weekend. I was looking forward to Haloumi salad, some seafood drizzled in olive oil topped with savoury herbs and stuffed vine leaves. Cruising the menus on the internet, and also keeping in mind the vicinities to our location, Greek choices were ruled out shortly.
We had to do make do with Lebanese cuisine. Lebanon, across the other side of the Mediterrenean, where olives are also plentiful with Arabic flavours domineering offered a promising alternative. It wasn’t so much a decision as an attraction of convenience as Arabella lay there stretched in front of our street like a joyous caravanserai.
Going into the dimmed, elegant-ish decorated large restaurant, we were pointed to sit at a large table. When we sat down, we discovered shortly that the table was reserved for a large group. After minutes of patience where we didn’t receive water, food menus or service we became impatient and were subsequently given menus by the kind people on the next table. The difficulty of flagging down waitstaff was no small inconvenience and required a bit of aggression to overcome.
However, the flat pide bread, hommus, tabulah salad, mixed shish kebab with kofta, chicken and lamb were good enough to have us forget about the troubles of getting a food order in.
The belly dance show (a Middle Eastern cliche more so than tradition) along with the DJ bordering on obnoxious was not un-entertaning. The congratulating of the vast number of birthdays by getting the birthday boys and girls to dance with the belly dancer was all in good fun and there was plenty of laughter to go around.