Clash of the Titans

GAUCHO DUBAI

Diabetic Diva

When I told my blond that I was off with the Caveman to Gaucho, he roared. “They will boo you out,” he said. “I’m going to die laughing imagining the look on their faces when your royal divaness orders,” he bellowed.

He was wrong! The 150-seater in DIFC welcomes all diners and just because I am a non-insulin dependent diabetic, I was not discriminated against. Marina, the passionate Argentinian sommelier, liked that I took tiny sips of all she had and Mahmoud, our waiter, was the epitome of professionalism. I kind of expected to hear a nasty comment or two and mercifully all, including the Caveman, held their tongues.

Speaking of tongues — my taste buds were titillated from the word go! A nice little round of cheesy gluten-free Pandebono and the Octopus Tiradito — finely sliced and loaded with the flavours of tomato, black olives, wild rocket and olive oil.

Not content with his spicy beef sausage and a steak that was as long and thick as my upper arm, the Caveman wanted to taste both the salmon and tuna ceviches.

I wallowed in the little niches that the citrus, avocado, palm heart and roasted pepper sauce created in the different areas of my taste buds.

The diva had no problem finishing them both, while he imbibed the nectars that the Argentinian mountains are so famous for. My main course of pan-fried fillets of sea bream accompanied by an eggplant escabeche (Argentinian marinated eggplant) and a mango and chilli vinaigrette would have made a meal all on its own normally, but it wasn’t that kind of evening.

The ambience was chatty, the music did not kill conversation and the service was attentive without invading my space. What else could I have asked for? Ah! Yes, a platter of three kinds of mainly mild British cheeses, sans the oat cakes, washed down with a steaming cup of green tea.

Will I go there again? Naturally! We divas adore it when our taste buds get a sensational ride. My blond will take me there again, and he’ll pay.

Caveman

Forget the fertile grasslands, Gaucho could be in downtown Buenos Aires, long renowned as the party capital of the Pampas. The Dubai incarnation of this British chain opened last year, but although a Palaeo diet has ruled my life since Ramadan, endless nights at the coalface have kept me from getting to the DIFC hotspot thus far.

Which is a shame. For on the Wednesday evening I visit with the Diabetic Diva, the restaurant was buzzing like it’s 2007. Five months after opening in a city obsessed with newness, that’s quite a feat.

Once we’re seated in the ultramodern chrome and monochrome main room, I turn my attention to the menu. Eschewing such clichés as empanadas (stuffed pastry), I pick the chorizo, the ceviches, and, after a protracted conversation with Mahmoud, the Tira de Ancho, a spiral-cut steak slow-grilled with chimichurri, an oil and herb basting sauce. And at the last minute, humitas, which our waiter explains are a sort of steamed, spiced corn bread.

The Diva, who lived in Brazil for years and is the resident authority on Latin America (at this table anyway) warns me off. “You won’t like them,” she declares. I ignore her and order them anyway.

A serving of tiny, Gouda-filled tapioca buns called Pandebono soon appear, and I immediately shelve my no-carb  Palaeo plan. Good decision, too: they’re awesome. Cheese and warm bread — there’s nothing like it.

The chorizo turns out to be a piquant, spicy beef and paprika sausage served on a bed of sweet red peppers and dressed in what must be the ultimate combination — balsamic vinegar and olive oil. It’s the most amazing sausage I’ve eaten outside Goa.

As an entremets, I insist on trying the ceviches. The citrus-cured salmon, chopped up with hearts of palm, red onion and topped with a green tomato sauce, is delicious, but the tuna overshadows it completely. Soy sauce and ginger are always brilliant with tuna, but a drizzle of sesame oil provides a mild nuttiness, while mixing in chunks of orange is a masterstroke.

And so to the steak, a foot-long, 500g log that, I realise too late, is meant to be shared — but never one to shy away from challenges, I dig right in. The first piece off the end is crisp, fatty and fullflavoured. As I make my way to the centre, though, it changes taste and texture — it’s almost as if it were two separate cuts, I tell the Diva, putting some bits on her no-red- meat-please plate. Turns out this one piece is both sirloin and rib-eye and it’s absolutely divine with the sweetish, pasty humitas. I eat almost all of it, thumbing my nose at the Diva’s fish main to leave place for dessert.

Which is the most awesome dulche de leche fondant. It’s a milky, gooey, caramelly delight that utterly destroys my resolutions of staying in my dietary cave. But I’m not complaining.

MAX'S RESTAURANT

Diabetic Diva

Great weather naturally means dining outdoors. We wanted a simply satisfying meal that would warm us up. Eeny meeny miney moe and Max’s it was. True, the fore view is all traffic and the background all supermarket, but it has a rock-solid reputation with Filipinos and their friends.

Max’s is famous for its chicken, but this diva was having none of that. Sinigang Na Tiyan ng Bangus was for me. A huge steaming bowl of tamarind-flavoured soup loaded with root vegetables, baby aubergines and boneless belly of milkfish that not just opened up the sinuses, but at the same time warmed me up against the chilly wind off the creek.
 
Rose, our adorable waitress, ensured the food was at our table well within the promised 15 minutes and kept us busy with a fresh Lumpiang Ubod, a delicate egg crêpe roll stuffed full of grated carrots, seafood, bamboo shoots and yam sticks accompanied by a light peanut/soy dipping sauce.

The Caveman grumbled that he wanted it deep-fried, but who argues with a diva? His great big meat dish kept him occupied, so he didn’t moan too much. Well, since Max’s was built on fried chicken we had to try it. It smelled gorgeous and even without the deep-fried skin, it tasted delicious, and so did the sweet potato fries.

A taste of the Caveman’s humongous dessert ensured a perfect finish. I’d never tried  purple yam ice cream before, but I will acquire the taste.

Caveman

Finding quality Filipino food has proved an arduous task in Dubai. My previous experiments with the cuisine have been disastrous, so I agreed to fall in with the Diva’s demand that we try Max’s, with trepidation.

I needn’t have worried. I get going on Kare Kare, a rich peanut stew of oxtail and tripe served with shrimp sauce. It is a bit onedimensional, but mix in a little  shrimp and it is a different dish entirely. The oxtail is excellent, tender, juicy and only very slightly gelatinous, while the tripe is as soft as tofu. The Diva wrinkles her nose up at organ meats, so contented herself with the merest morsel of oxtail. She insisted I try her unpronounceable  tamarind-flavoured fish soup. In this odd Dubai winter, when temperatures can drop several degrees in what seems like a few minutes, it was a warm, comforting taste of home.

Max’s fried chicken is legendary and this place beats the fast-food chains hollow. The chicken is moist, light and dripping with oil — although the batter isn’t strictly Palaeo, I think I can get away with it on account of the totally acceptable sweet potato fries.

Not so the Halo Halo. The name literally translates as Mix Mix, and it really is just that. To a mix of fresh ice and evaporated milk are added water chestnuts, three different types of beans, coconut, jackfruit, banana, sweet  potato, rice crisps, jelly and purple yam ice cream. It sounds vile and it looks like a mess, but all those different flavours really do work very well together. I leave a very happy Caveman indeed.

FAKHRELDINE RESTAURANT AND CAFE

Diabetic Diva

A daily diet of Metformin creates the general perception that I am a picky, difficult diva when ordering food. However, the staff at the Fakhreldine Restaurant and Café pleasantly surprise me by catering to my every whim. “No added sugar, no white bread, hold the salt please, only olive oil and plenty of fresh vegetables and fish,” I said. “Yes madam,” they said, and the rest was a breeze.

Hindbeh, endives cooked with garlic and onion, okra with olive oil, steamed prawns with a lemon dressing and a grand dollop of Fakhreldine’s intensely creamy hummus, with a tiny amount of sesame seed paste and a sprinkling of chopped pistachio really hit the spot with me. Couldn’t resist a taste of the Caveman’s Habra Nayyeh, a lamb steak tartare, and although it was delicious, I remembered my antired meats resolution and stopped myself in time.

The food was fresh. I could actually taste the vegetables and the prawns were tender. Quite filling; despite excluding the pitta bread that the restaurant bakes fragrantly fresh. No dessert, but I was curious to try the Miracle drink; a rich burgundy cocktail of lemon, apple and beetroot juices. A heady combination, but beetroot and my pancreas don’t mix.

Caveman

Even the Diva’s efforts at getting a large machine into a tight space don’t faze me. Parking woes aside, I hit Fakhreldine fully resolved to stay on the Palaeo wagon. Luckily, that’s easy enough with Arabic food.

And it doesn’t get any more Palaeo than Habra Nayyeh, which is the Lebanese version of steak tartare — only, this one’s made with lamb. Or, more simply put, raw meat. Mixed in with chilli and garlic, it’s satisfying, savoury and absolutely brilliant. I can’t get enough of it, despite the Diva’s warning that raw meat causes sleepless nights. (As always, she turns out to be right.)

I bite into her hindbeh, a sort of lemony endive salad dressed with fried onions, and report that I can almost feel the goodness of the leaf travelling down my oesophagus. “I think you should give up red meat,” she replies quite imperiously. I shrug, and order myself a spicy Kebab Khishkhash, a chargrilled garlic minced meat speciality. It is served to a medium doneness and the accompanying tomato sauce is well rounded and full-flavoured, with the acid cooked away.

Having downed a large fruit cocktail, I am bravely able to turn down the desserts — muhalabiya, rice pudding and cheese kunafa — and round out the meal with an excellent mint tea. It’s true: you can do Palaeo and eat out.