The Koshary Quandary, Revisited

I mentioned very early on that finding the greatest plate of koshary out there was one of my purposes in writing this blog. To chronicle the Hunt. To search High and Low for that perfect plate of pure Egyptian goodness. And after I’ve found it, devise a way to bring it into the 21st century.

To understand Koshary is to understand the Egyptian psyche. We need a feast for the eyes, and also a feast for the stomach. This is evident when we sit down at a family dinner: the table is covered end to end in different varieties of food - mountains of rice, Penne and béchamel casserole, Molokheyya soup, plates of chicken and beef and okra stew in a bright red tomato sauce - all vying for valuable real estate in our stomachs, hearts and memories.

Koshary is like a huge dinner table, except its all in one plate. We’ve got the pasta. We’ve got the Rice. We’ve got the bright red tomato sauce. Koshary is a poor man’s dish, so there is no meat or vegetables, but to make things interesting, we’ve added lentils and chickpeas, and topped it with inexpensive fried onions, and drizzled a garlic vinaigrette on top for that extra “kick”

Meanwhile, the French are using soy sauce (!), Italians are making bolognaise ragù with Kobe beef and the Americans sit somewhere between continental and oriental cuisine; the culinary equivalent of an identity crises. One thing all American food has in common, however is that it’s all invariable fatty. Kind of like the American people. You are what you eat after all.

But I digress.

I decided to begin the hunt at Abu El Seed, ostensibly a monument to Egyptian cuisine. Since I had never been there, I spent these past few months asking around, and the feedback I received was generally positive, notable for the fact that while everyone recommended the Sherkasseyya (Chicken with walnut sauce) no one had actually ordered the Koshary. “Why not?” I asked. Responses ranged from “I don’t like koshary” to “why would I pay so much for such a cheap dish?”

I thought to myself: if Abu El Seed was making koshary using the exact same ingredients as Sheikh El Balad or Koshary el Tahrir, then we’ve got problems.

At long last, after enjoying sushi, raving about C+G’s and a thinly veiled rant about the sexuality of beef, I have finally gotten around to telling you, my nonexistent reader, what the Koshary in Abu El Seed is all about.

In a word? Disappointment. Much like Lucille’s “world’s greatest hamburger” moniker, I was promised so much by the hype surrounding the restaurant itself and let down.

It didn’t taste nearly half as good as the cheaper alternatives at KT’s or Abu Tarek. The plate had very little rice, very little lentils and was little more than a bowl of slimy spaghetti strands swimming in a sea of garlicky water. There were so many transgressions committed against this venerable dish:
- The use of spaghetti pasta – cooked al dente, no less! (Koshary is the exception to the Al Dente rule).
- Incorrect proportions of fried onions, lentils, chickpeas, rice and pasta.
- drowning the plate in Garlic water: I’m sure we all agree that the application of the hot red pepper sauce, garlic vinaigrette, and tomato sauce should *always* be left upto the consumer.

In the end, I realized I need to be more selective of whom I ask for restaurant recommendations. Unfailingly, the first thing mentioned is the dessert they “loved”, the fact they were starving when they got there and that the decor is “really cool”. Well, it turns out the dessert they loved was a 2 day old apple tart bought in from the Marriot Bakery and the decor is a cross between a suburban coffee outlet and a sheesha joint, complete with Bamboo chairs.

For Koshary, Abu Seed fails miserablty. And the search continues..

Cooking Time: 45 Minutes.