Mezze and more at Ummi Beirut
Hop on a culinary tour of Lebanon in the new Robertson Quay eatery
NEW RESTAURANT
Ummi Beirut InterContinental Singapore Robertson Quay 1 Nanson Road Singapore 238909 Tel: 9725-6325 Open for dinner only Tues to Sun: 6pm to 11pm
AFTER a surfeit of sameness and sushi in the local dining scene, Lebanese food comes as a welcome reprieve – like seeing your insufferable relatives finally go home after a CNY visit. Never mind if Beirut isn’t anywhere on your travel agenda. Ummi Beirut is like a hop-on, hop-off bus tour for the palate – don’t expect a deep dive, but if you want to tell your kibbeh from your kafta, you’ve got to start somewhere.
“Somewhere” would be the InterContinental in Robertson Quay, where Falafel 101 plays out in rather plush, leafy surroundings that bring to mind both garden conservatory and Persian rug shop. Wicker chairs, plump banquettes and Ottoman-ish accents set the stage for Lebanon’s contribution to the Levantine lexicon.
The chef comes directly from Beirut, which accounts for Ummi’s authenticity, so proclaims the sole greeter/server who takes our order. But he also disappears or avoids eye contact for the rest of the evening, so we’re not sure if non-existent service is a Lebanese thing too.
That said, authenticity doesn’t come cheap, with individual mezzes clocking in at S$20 upwards for a basic hummus. It makes the S$98 for a mini buffet of six tasting portions almost a bargain, which it isn’t. But you pay anyway because it’s a hassle-free way of getting variety at one go.
It’s also an easy entry into the cuisine – a combination of familiar and novel flavours that’s accessible and comforting. The S$20 hummus acquits itself with a silken, garlicky creaminess with a puddle of olive oil and fat whole chickpeas in the middle. It has an eggplant doppelganger named Mutabal, smokey and just as spreadable, dotted with spice and pomegranate seeds. Muhamarrah is deep red, romesco-like puree of roasted red peppers, nuts and olive oil. So that your teeth don’t forget to chew, there’s Berghoul Bl Banadoura, a tongue twister for our favourite of the lot – a tomatoey pilaf of bulgur wheat that’s mellow and tangy, balanced with kidney beans and fresh basil. Scoop everything up with Ummi bread (S$9), which are dryish, inflated pita bread with more ego than moisture.
Focus instead on deep-fried eggplant cubes which are tender yet squishy, submerged in yoghurt-tahini sauce laced with garlic and olive oil. Coming in last is a lentil salad, which is simply lentils added to tabbouleh (S$26) – a huge mound of chopped parsley, chopped tomatoes and a sprinkle of grains. The latter is only slightly better than chowing down on a grass patch with a lemon for companionship. Thank goodness we ordered the batata harra (S$22) which are basic fried potatoes tossed in harissa but done very well, even if still not well enough to justify the price tag.
At Ummi, funky starts with ‘k’ for kibbeh. It appears two ways, first as kibbeh balls (S$28) or deep-fried patties of minced lamb stuffed in a bulgur mixture. Apart from a sudden whiff of the MRT at rush hour, the crunchy, gamey nuggets aren’t too bad if not our finger food of choice. Kibbeh nayyeh (S$40) is an acquired taste, featuring raw lamb churned into a lifeless, pasty mixture seasoned with spices, olive oil and bound with bulgur wheat. It’s served with raw onions and radish slices and seems to be the litmus test of Lebanese food but it’s a test of wills for us, or in our case, will not. Then again, pair it with a good dollop of tabbouleh and surprisingly, both spring to life.
Since we’re not Avengers who just saved the world, we’re not partial to shawarma, particularly the beef version (S$36) where bits of incinerated beef are folded into an equally unhappy tortilla-like wrap. Slightly better is the fish fillet (S$42) – dryish grilled sea bass flanked by chickpea and red pepper puree.
Knafeh – melted cheese in sweet crisp shredded filo pastry (S$24) sounds like a good idea and would be if not for a slightly undercooked layer between the cheese and pastry. If properly done, the syrupy crunch and gooey stringy cheese would be a perfect match.
Ummi skims the surface of Lebanese food but doesn’t really dig deep, so you do reach a level where monotony sets in after a while. It’s a worthy introduction to a cuisine that’s new to us, but we’re looking forward to something more than just the tourist version.
Rating: 6.5
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