Telephone: 020 8960 5757
Address: 4 Conlan Street, London W10
Meal for two, including wine and service, £50 to £70.
I have been bitching recently about bad service, first at Fino and then, two weeks ago, at Baltic. Having sat through yet another bout of what can only be called amateur hour, I have finally identified what really marks out poor service. Bringing the wrong things at the wrong time ain't necessarily bad. Bringing the wrong things at the wrong time with serious attitude is. Hence my dislike of Fino and Baltic, where they could have flounced for Britain.
At this week's restaurant, the service was also less than gold standard. The wrong dishes were delivered to our table and the waiters weren't great at identifying the ones that were actually meant for us. But it wasn't rude or offhand; just chaotic, and charmingly so. I particularly liked the waiter who kept saying, 'Sorry, I'm new here myself,' which, as they had only been open five days, made sense. We were all new here.
Cafe Arabica, in the wilds of London's W10, is an off-shoot of a Middle Eastern food stall at Borough Market, the red-light zone of Britain's gastro-porn movement. They sell humus and felafel, spiky mixes of pickles and great salads of roasted cherry tomatoes. The restaurant version is housed far from Borough in a renovated industrial building just beyond Ladbroke Grove, on the part of my London map marked: 'Here be dragons.' It seemed a desperately unpromising site, but on a Tuesday night they were doing a brisk trade. The decor is simple. There is a bar area with low leather couches, then a white-walled dining room, one side covered by burlap, with wooden tables and chairs.
The food is Jordanian with knobs on. I know this because it said so in the nice letter they sent me, not because I am an habitué of Amman. The truth is, while I can identify various Middle Eastern dishes - baba ghanoush, for example, or tabbouleh - I'm a dunderhead when it comes to regional differences.
The menu opens with long lists of cold and hot mezze, at between £4 and £5 each. Three of us tried five of them. The star was a plate of curly chargrilled squid, first marinated with juniper berries, which had a distinct but not overwhelming sweetness. Over that one it was forks at dawn. Roast red peppers, with nuts and sultanas, were succulent and not at all slimy. We also liked the jauntily titled Jordanian Fool, a thick, highly spiced purée of broad beans.
In the cold light of day, I wished we had only ordered from these mezze lists. It would have been a cheap way to put the kitchen through its paces, perhaps £50 for two. But there were main courses, priced in the low teens, and we are frontiersmen in these matters.
Of the three we tried, we were most impressed by Quail of Eden - which sounds like the title of a disaster movie, but wasn't. The two grandly roasted birds came crusted with coriander seeds and served with a fresh, herby salad of new potatoes and asparagus. It was so much quail that one of them went home with us to spend the night. The Red Sea Experience brought a whole crisp, red snapper, with a strongly spiced skin. It had a fine flavour, but was judged a little dry.
The wine list is short and, for some reason, does not include the big-bollocked Château Musar, but does include another red from Lebanon, Château de Kefraya - a full-on fruit blast. We finished with a bowl of pistachio ice cream. It was more nut than cream and to my liking, but not to that of my companions who clearly, therefore, have no taste. Finally, they brought me a delicious mug of tea with star anise and orange zest. Now, how can one not like a restaurant that does a thing like that, whatever the service?
