A feast from the East

Wafi City, Dubai
Ginseng

Antagonising doormen is an activity that always involves an element of risk. That, indeed, is the whole point. Still, there are moments when — in the words of Wodehouse — one senses fate slipping lead into the boxing glove.

One such moment is the appearance of a construction project on the doorstep of Ginseng. Getting you into this fashionable Asian bar/eatery is now an enterprise worthy of Lara Croft. The route is via the entrance to the Pyramids. You must go up to the first floor, walk along the terrace behind Carter's, then traverse a stretch of grass to enter the French windows of Seville's. After that, just go down the stairs, slip through a curtain to your right and there you are.

Unless you are me, that is. In that case, there is an extra trapezium-shaped obstacle in the form of Seville's African doorman. How our enmity began I honestly cannot tell. I have a hazy memory of a disagreement over footwear. However, over time this has grown into an authentic hatred that even encompasses my 6-year-old daughter. I have no expectation of returning to Seville's. But now, of course, the route to Ginseng also goes straight through the danger zone. And as ill luck would have it, when my wife and I finally found its new entrance, there he was chatting contentedly to a colleague.

Ducking through the curtain, my backward glance caught the precise moment that affability transformed into the kind of expression that confronted the Welsh guards at Rorke's Drift. I dragged my wife to some vacant seats. In my mind I could already feel his hand on my shoulder.

But it never came. As we sat down I looked round and there he stood at the doorway, glaring but apparently impotent. We were safe, it seemed, in the security profession's equivalent of hallowed ground. After delivering a stare that could curdle custard, he lumbered grimly off like a troll in the first rays of dawn.

So it was with special thankfulness we relaxed into the welcome of one of Dubai hospitality's surest havens. Indeed, as an epic meeting of East and West, Ginseng rivals Pearl Harbour. But in a good way. The drinks are as inconspicuously deadly as Tojo's bombers and an imaginative fusion cuisine ensures any surviving reservations are mopped up with brutal efficiency. This is also one of the rare venues in Dubai with no trace of being part of a hotel.

The décor is absolute urban sophistication. Arty prints hang on slate-grey concrete walls, designery inverted-mushroom lights hang from a black ceiling with exposed AC ducts, trendy remixes provide the sonic backdrop and a vast rack of bottles stretches behind a tall wooden bar.

The instant we found our seats, a South African waitress in a fetching black Oriental tunic with chopsticks in her hair sashayed over to take our drinks order. Regretfully, I cannot expatiate here on the delights of the cocktails. But they provide an integral part of the place's feel: Ginseng's floor space is indeed divided to give equal precedence to drinkers and diners.

The food, though, is on an equally celestial level. This is a perfect place to eschew conventional dining by channel-surfing between Asian tapas, sushi, dim sum and speciality menus.
From the Asian tapas we took Korean BBQ Beef Queso, a juicy quesadilla with kimchee, and a pleasantly gooey sesame brie cheese.

The Pandan Leaf Chicken was juicy but fiddly in the extreme — especially so if, like me, you are both pretentious enough to use chopsticks but deploy them with the dexterity of a man in the throws of frostbite.

From the dim sum bar we chose the dim sum platter combining chicken, shrimp and vegetable dumplings. Their inherent sogginess provides an enjoyable contrast with the tapas — although, despite with the tangy soy sauce, it may have been an error to mix such subtle flavours with the sharper ones of the earlier dishes. From the speciality menu we went for shrimp tempura — three shrimp and a lucky dip of shards of various vegetables in tempura batter. These were appropriately crunchy and, like the other dishes, provided in a generous portion.

We had no room for dessert. All in all, little that can be said against Ginseng. Even its current elusiveness could be an opportunity disguised as a drawback, in that it keeps this a hidden treasure rather than a total scrum.

I should perhaps warn, though, that some people might find both the ambience and the clientele intimidatingly youthful and trendy. It is a real shame you are unlikely to see me there in the near future.