The Olive Branch

Zaytinya at Abu Dhabi's Al Seef Village Mall takes you back to a Lebanon you can't imagine being conflict-ridden

Driving all the way to Abu Dhabi (130 km, when I last checked) on a Friday evening, even for a fine dining session, seemed like a bit of an imposition. So, I was immensely grateful a friend offered companionship on the way to the capital, and be my partner at the dinner table. Other than an overdose of gratitude, I was also agog with anticipation at what lay at the end of the road. Zaytinya. It means olive oil in Turkish, apparently. And it serves Lebanese and Middle Eastern cuisine. The kind of food you find at outlets that come dime-a-dozen in Dubai, so why was I going the extra (so many!) miles?
Because I'd heard high praises being sung in its name. Look it up online and on social media - Zaytinya, by the way, is extremely social media-friendly and you can reap foodie benefits by taking part in its Twitter/Facebook/ Instagram campaigns - and you'll know what I'm talking about.
On Zomato.com - that I systematically check for anything food-related, even if I'm checking out a home delivery option - all reviewers have incredibly good things to say about Zaytinya; but many of them maintain that the restaurant is not very 'visible'. The Al Seef Mall, a new construction, is not yet in the thick of things. So maybe that's what makes Zaytinya a "hidden gem"? I was determined to find out.
As we enter the portals, we are immediately won over... something about the doors of perception. Zaytinya is beautifully done up, a triumphant combo of traditional Arabic décor, latticework and sleek contemporary lines. Warm colours and a woody feel, without too much wood in evidence. There's a live kitchen adding to the upbeat, vibrant feel - yet there's an overhanging sense of quietude and privacy.
We linger over fresh watermelon juice (who can go wrong with that?) and oven-fresh baked flatbread (you see the bread being popped out of the fire box), served alongside tahina and zaatar sauce. and lots of olives - big, juicy ones (all the way from Lebanon, naturally) - for a bit before embarking on the ordering spree.
Some old favourites. The Tabbouleh, for starters. Standard enough, the finely chopped parsley, mint, fresh tomatoes, crushed bulgur, wheat, olive oil and lemon juice salad never ceases to amaze me, and the one here has an extra zest. What is new - and Zaytinya is allegedly the only place in the UAE to serve it - is the Kishkki: homemade labneh mixed with crushed wheat and nuts. It's farmer's food in Lebanon - the go-to dish, so to say - gets made in jiffy, and is healthy, tasty and wholesome. Simple and delicious.
The Moussakat Batenjan - baked eggplant with chickpeas, capsicum, onion and garlic in rich tomato sauce - bursts at the seams with flavour, with the disparate tastes of all its ingredients giving it a new crunchy personality.
Meanwhile, the wonderful bread basket - that I cannot seem to stop stuffing my face with - is being refilled every 10 minutes (the 'cold' bread replenished by the 'hot' one), and by the time the Hummus Shawarma - a bed of hummus topped with chicken shawarma, two of my favourite things - lands up, I am almost full. My friend graciously moves in for the kill, but I manage to get a bite out of the plate: it's top-notch, devoid of the 'industrial', mass-appeal flavour.
Next up is the Mixed Seafood Platter; I ignore the calamari and dig into the grilled jumbo prawns that are fresh, succulent and delicately spiced. But it's the hammour fillet, served with saffron rice and harra sauce, that's the standout. Just perfect - by way of texture, consistency and seasoning. We also try the Zaytinya Taouk, chicken cubes marinated in garlic and yoghurt; reminds you of a subtler version of the reshmi kabab. Nice, but not in the same league as the hammour.
(Zaytinya offers specials every day: like the Yaghnit Sabanekh - spinach and minced lamb ragout served with vermicelli rice - on Fridays; or the Kebbeh Samak - hammour fish fillet mashed with bulgur stuffed with onion, sumac and nuts, and baked in the oven - on Tuesdays. Can't wait to try them, but will have to come back some other day.)
After a portion of the delicate Riz bil Halib - fresh milk, sugar, rice, rose and blossom water - the ending is a revelation: at the lovely manager's insistence, I opt for the Lebanese 'white coffee' (ahwah baida) to be my aide for closure. It's warm orange blossom water, caffeine-free, relaxing (as opposed to the pressures of a frothy cappuccino), and the perfect antidote to a heavy dinner. A souped-up white tea of the Middle Eastern world. It's a happy ending, alright.
sushmita@khaleejtimes.com 

• Food and Dining