Sarai
Atmospheric Arabic spot worth trying 27 Reviews
JBR isn’t exactly the standard-bearer of authenticity. Unlike Deira or Karama, or other areas that boast a more genuine street scene, the neighbourhood tends to feel a bit like a movie set. By and large, so do its restaurants, but Sarai is one noticeable exception. Okay, the decor does boast a bit of theme-parking: waiters are decked out in fezzes, Arabic script adorns the ceiling tiles and the walls have that cream-coloured, stonewashed look that could have propped up Peter O’Toole in Lawrence of Arabia.
The food, however, is the real deal. There’s something about Sarai that instils faith. It looks clean, and as a result it seems the type of place you can be experimental without fear of food poisoning. Bored of all the usual mezze, my date and I started instead with an order of nkhaat pane (aka fried lamb’s brain) and kebbeh assourat (lamb tartar with chilli).
The breading on the brain was thin and delightfully crispy, and the dish itself was floatingly light. Of course the preparation did nothing to change the texture, which, being brain, was glandular and slimy. But if that doesn’t bother you, it is an otherwise excellent dish. The kebbeh was ground so fine that the meat took on the quality of satin. Each bite also had a creeping, titillating heat that made it difficult for us to stop picking at the dish, even though the portion was huge and finishing it would have been obscene (it’s really best suited for a large group).
This place’s speciality, however, is kebabs, which was evident even before we glimpsed the menu – the air in Sarai is sopping and saturated with buttery wafts. The signature kebab Sarai was a tender, nutty tube of ground lamb mixed with chopped pistachios. Little droplets of dew clung to the meat, and I wasn’t sure whether I was drooling unto it or it unto me. Yet somehow, this was no match for the ethereal shards of
lamb in my kebab yougatly. The meat came doused in a yoghurt-butter sauce and topped with a sprinkling of pine nuts. The lamb was so tender that every time I tried to stab a piece with my fork, it broke apart, so taking a bite was frustratingly difficult. Once I did manage, the meat evaporated in my mouth so quickly I barely recognised it had ever been there. I kept shovelling in shards, just so I could know they existed, but the dish continued to play peek-a-boo on my tongue.
We finished with a crumbly Syrian speciality – karabige halab maa natef. Four buttery, walnut-stuffed biscuits came served with a coating of liquid meringue – a sticky, white substance that resembled melted marshmallow. It made for a simple, though elegant, end to the meal.
There are few Arabic restaurants in Dubai that manage to straddle the middle ground between the cheap, street-side venues that trade ambience for value and the pricier, more atmospheric venues that grace most five-star hotels. Sarai, however, is one of the few reasonable restaurants in the city that refuses to sacrifice either stunning decor or cheerful, knowledgeable staff. This rare combination may make it one of the best Arabic spots in town.
The bill (for two)
1x Turkish coffee Dhs13
1x Large Aqua Panna water Dhs15
1x Fried brain Dhs19
1x Kebbeh assourat Dhs32
1x Kebab Sarai Dhs50
1x Kebab yougatly Dhs42
1x Karabige Dhs26
Total (excluding service) Dhs197
Time Out Dubai,
- Previous reviews
-
- E-mail:
-
- Print:
Time Out reviews restaurants anonymously and pays for meals. Of course, we cannot guarantee the accuracy or independence of user reviews.
Dhs 1-50
Dhs 50-200
Dhs 200-350
Dhs 350-500
Dhs 500+
