Lamb tikka, biryani at Ermita’s Arabic Kitchen

Some of the best meals of my life have happened accidentally, at the oddest of places. I’ve always found the prospect of eating in unfamilar territory appealing.

Whether the venue is a gritty roadside eatery in downtown QC, an out-of-the-way fried chicken joint on Soi Polo in Bangkok, or a crammed bistro on a Parisian sidestreet, these culinary treks are rewarding. 

They’re also an intimate immersion into a new culture. Knowing that you are dining where the locals dine, and more importantly eating just what they eat – unadulterated and authentic – is a gratifying experience.

So when I heard that there was a Middle Eastern restaurant in Ermita that served real Iranian-style biryani, I was instantly intrigued. A mid-afternoon jaunt to this side of town was in order.

Predictably, the sky is gray today. Ermita, once a prominent area during the days of the American occupation, has since gradually deteriorated. Today it is one of the country’s red light districts, known for rowdy sex tourists, gambling and various other dodgy vices and bad habits.

The buildings are run down, middle-aged Japanese men wander the streets sporting beer guts and, um, exotic girlfriends, European backpackers attempt to hail a cab, random street kids persistent in their quest for spare change. It is chaotic but engrossing. The Legazpi Village weekend market it is not.

Despite this bit of tawdriness, I arrive at the Arabic Kitchen with my appetite still intact. As I walk in, I pass two grey-haired Middle Eastern gentlemen sitting al fresco, conversing over shisha and mint tea. 

One might say the interiors of this establishment are non-existent—harsh fluorescent lighting, outdated tablecloths and charmless generic chairs, depressingly dull wallpaper. Yet I am far from deterred.

I start safely, with the Arabic salad (P120) and a compulsory order of hummus (P120). Both the silky hummus and the salad, with its artful assortment of diced vegetables, are pleasantly refreshing, slightly tart, and clean-tasting. The accompanying pita bread, in a cloth-covered basket, is oven-warm and fluffy—a wholesome prelude of things to come.

I order the Ful Medames (P150), a staple in the Middle East, most notably Egypt where it is considered the national dish. Ful medames is a hearty dish of warmed fava beans, mixed with lemon juice, olive oil and garlic.

 

It’s a typical breakfast in Egypt, and Arabic Kitchen’s version is light, zesty and fresh; the ability to use such simple ingredients to create complex-tasting dishes such as this is typical of Middle Eastern cuisine.

Their version of lamb tikka (P450) hits the spot. Chargrilled cubes of spice-rubbed lamb. It is served with a small portion of hummus and soggy homemade fries.

The plate is invariably garnished with a blackened whole tomato and onion, both of which were devoured without hesitation.

I meet the tattooed Syrian kitchen supervisor, Mike, upon my arrival and soon learn that the lamb biryani is not available, Mildly disheartened, I carry on and settle for the poultry version (P300).

There is a slight theatrical element to the chicken biryani’s presentation. A waitress brings a pressure cooker to the table. Yes, an actual pressure cooker of the type people use at home to make bangus sardines. She opens it expertly, and immediately it lets out a satisfying whoosh, and the fragrant saffron-infused steam of the biryani rises, effectively throwing me into a gastronomic trance. 

She gently scoops the contents onto my plate: a mound of colorful basmati rice and a tiny half of seared, seasoned chicken. Though the rice is generous, the chicken is dry and underwhelming . The dish, however, is saved by a penetrating garlic yogurt and the restaurant’s in-house harissa sauce.

I have always liked restaurants that don’t feel the need to spruce up their look up for a few ‘discerning’ diners, The food stands alone. ‘Minimal flash, maximum substance’ seems to be the general rule for many storied holes-in-the-walls throughout the world. The Arabic Kitchen is no exception. I’ll be back for the lamb biryani. – Rappler.com

Daniel Mabanta is a former magazine editor turned restaurant owner. Having finished a degree in professional writing in London, he still tries to find time to write recreationally. Eating, travel, and film are amongst his foremost passions.