Getting things done in Abu Dhabi, UAE

This happened to me, I own the experience, it has become part of my very being (as all dramatic experiences have a tendency to do). It was months ago, but the memory still lingers and sometimes I wake in the wee small hours, screaming... screaming ...

..oh the horror.

For those who might be late to the party may I suggest you head on over to the contents page and scan through the coffee adventures to date.

For long-time (and patient) readers, this is the post I have been threatening to write since the outset of the quest for the best cup in Abu Dhabi.

It has taken this long to get down, because I was blocking alot of the memory - apparently this happens after severe trauma, but the therapist says I am ready now.

I have decided NOT to directly name the cafe in question (for reasons that will be come obvious) but there are enough posts already that rank this place as last. It is denoted at the bottom of the list as being called CDR. It's a cafe in a Mall here in Abu Dhabi. Yup. In an Abu Dhabi Mall. Locals will work out this slightly cryptic reference.

Those NOT from Abu Dhabi: Just know that this place exists - and if you ever find yourself here, email me - I'll tell you. I promise. It is my duty.

CDR was not on my list for coffee shops to throw myself at, but I found myself in this particular Abu Dhabi Mall (hmmmm - too obvious?) waiting for my wife to get done with a work meeting and stride purposefully along the shiny (very slippery when wet) tiles and into the fabulously appointed food court for our lunch date.

A brief aside:
One of the things I find hysterical - primarily due to my not falling victim to it - is that all the floor tiles in just about any commercial space, if made wet, acquire the grippy texture of an ice skating rink. I guess due to there being no legal mechanism here to sue anyone should things go aggressively horizontal.

That means the building's designer/owner/dude-who-has-an-opinion-about-floor-coverings can literally choose whatever the hell they like for their floor tiling needs, he or she only need concern themselves with colour.

"I want 3,000 square metres of this blue tile"
"Ummm...ookay... these are wall tiles though...so..."
"I don't care - I want them"
"But they are reeeally slippery when wet... you don't want an ice-rink in your shopping mall do you?...hah ha ha.."
"........"
"........"
"I don't understand the question. Deliver the tiles I ordered."

Super slippery - even more fun when the same tiles are used OUTSIDE. Yup. Smooth, unsealed, slick as glass tiles. Thankfully it doesn't rain here alot. When it does though...

Anyway.. back to the point.
The meeting was running late, so I figured as I was about to undertake my first coffee review at The One after lunch, I'd do a test run with a coffee shop in the Abu Dhabi Mall (!) where my bride and I were to meet.

Fate led me to CDR.

I'd walked past this particular cafe alot and while it was never SUPER busy, it seemed to do a fairly brisk trade.

In short, it appeared that it was a pretty safe bet. It also had the bonus aspect of being 7 feet away from where I was when the text message came through informing me of the new proposed time for the lunch date.

I strode in past the smokers grimacing through wisps of exhaled cigarette smoke and sat down, feeling a little too self important, but nonetheless excited about the clandestine aspect of my "reviewing project".
I envisaged the fear my blindingly successful blog would strike upon cafe owners island wide. How all would worship me and DESPAIR...

...yes, well, abudhabilist.com hasn't had THAT much of an impact on the cafe community thus far. It's a slow burner this blog- but when it flares - THEN the coffee landscape will change oh yes my pretties.. yeeessssssss... precioooousss... *cough* ummm...

Here....be distracted by another ADist aside:

Smoking is prohibited in most malls here in Abu Dhabi, or at least in the walkway and main areas of the mall, BUT cafes all have a smoking section. Yes. A smoking section. Usually these sections adjoin the slippery goodness of the walkways - but provided the table is within the boundary of the cafe, it's perfectly within the rules.

Frankly, as was mentioned in an email that was getting around the place earlier this week: Having a smoking section in an public space is as useful as having a urinating section in a public pool.

Aaaand we're back:
I ordered a latte, doing my best to keep my identity a secret and settled in to trying out various seating positions and practising being nonchalant. I had even brought a book along to read, thus concealing the real reason a large bald westerner might sail in and order a latte.

I tried:

The 'Lounger'- a kind of side saddle position, that one hopes offers a look of carefree sophistication. High degree of difficulty - can come off looking manufactured and kind of tool-ish.

The 'Lounger + leg cross' - as above with an added leg cross. Result? I suspect I looked like a poorly shaped man-pretzel.

The 'meet the parents' - seated bolt upright, rear end as far back into the seat as you can, hands (book optional) clasped in lap. Good for core strength, makes you stick out in a crowd like dogs.. umm.. you know.

The 'Slouch' - As it sounds, but hard to achieve in cafe bucket style chairs, arms don't have anywhere to naturally fall, hard to reach cup, think I looked like I had passed out given the concerned looks of table near by.

I settled on a partial 'Lounger with leg cross', with a weight distribution that allowed reasonable access to the coffee table.

The cup of stuff was placed in front of me, and the waiter scampered off.

I put the cup to my lips and sipped, but the beverage was SO hot I simply couldn't get any in my mouth. My concern though was rising. Not at the temperature (although that ain't a great start) but there was an aroma of something I had vowed never to suffer again; years ago a 5 day camping trip ended in a shouting match with the guy who had recommended the stuff as an easy to carry coffee substitute.

Coffee Mate.

The stink of it was strong.

I went back to my book, but every paragraph or so I looked from page to cup, for what reason I don't know specifically... I just had the feeling that whatever was in that cup needed an eye kept on it.

A suitable amount of time went by, so I tried again.

It was at this point I should have got up and left. Got away from the thing.

Why?

The previously lead-smelter hot fluid had developed a skin on it. Not a slight milk separation that can sometimes happen with full or double cream milk, oh no, this was a good honest skin.

A baked-rice-pudding style skin (sans lumps).

A holiday-camp-too-much-gravy-helper-not-enough-water style skin

A skin that was akin in appearance to lightly grilled processed cheese slice on toast.

A skin that actually attached so effectively to the insides of the cup it created a seal that took a significant swirling action AND help from a spoon to detach.

I should have left.. I should have..

Taking my reviewing gig way too seriously, I again raised the cup to my lips and, while it was STILL hot, it had cooled enough so that I might actually taste what was festering away in there.

One sip confirmed my fear - coffee helper had been used.

It was at this point that the aforementioned skin made its presence known again by attaching itself to my bottom lip, so that when I pulled the cup away a blisteringly hot circular flap moved from it's birthplace in the cup and attached itself with the tenacity of wallpaper to my stubbly chin.

The cup was noisily placed back on the table, followed by a low moaning sound (that I suspect was coming from me), while on reflex I slapped at my chin which effectively dispersed what was under my lip to my shirt, and pants, and part of the chair. Thankfully my frantic actions did not send any glutinous shrapnel toward the couple sitting at the next table over, who were by now staring and offering their napkins.

Interestingly the waiters at that moment found a whole lot of important stuff to do in the kitchen area, so I resorted to stealing the napkins from the surrounding tables along with those offered by my neighbours.

I left my cup and out of habit staggered, red chinned and bewildered, to the cash register where I paid and then left while barely hearing the forced cheerful tone as the waiter called after me:

"Thankyousirpleasecomeagain".

My wife found me sitting in the food court amongst a whole hotchpotch of nationalities - all eating McDonalds and KFC - with a stunned look on my face as I gently stroked my still slightly stinging chin.

"Sorry about the delay", she said. "Got some times messed up. You looking forward to your big 'coffee expose' this afternoon? Hey, what have you done to your chin?"

****

I'm actually grateful that I went to CDR first off - I mean who could ask for a better baseline for a study?

Let this blog stand as testimony, and bow our heads for a moment to remember those that gave up coffee as a result of this establishment, and hope that one day they will come back to the caffeine fold...

Let it also remind cafe owners that coffee is NOT rocket science - whoever opens a cafe here that employs really good baristas is going to make a KILLING!

Makes the little more sense of the list below..

• ADNOC - ('big cups crisis' over)
• Zyara,
  Cafe De La Paix "Marina Mall",
  Idioms
• The One
• Le Brioche "Marina Mall"
• Starbucks
• Anything else, including but not limited to, licking tarmac
• CDR - Worst coffee ever - will post at a later date.

It seems that I may have found a flaw in the AD Week's "Best 5 coffees in Abu Dhabi".

Just a small one.

Trifling really.

Now, call me old fashioned, but I like to think that a review should have at least a couple of non-negotiable aspects in order to maintain credibility.
A template if you will. With these hard-set points ready to be filled out, before the hard work of the review begins.

A point I like to think is fundamental to a review is an accurate address. Information the reader would need if they were going to go and sample the wares of the whatever was being reviewed.
More particularly for me - an address that, if I was looking for coffee, wouldn't lead me to a series of butcher shops.

Not only would such information offer direction, it also suggests that if the reviewer were stopped in the street and asked where something was, they' know - and kindly offer directions ... because they had been there...

...had actually set foot in the place - or at least had driven past it, stopped, found a carpark, walked to the front door and asked the first person they saw leave the establishment what they thought.

With that in mind, dear reader let's skip hand in hand - err no.. let's not... that's illegal (or at least singularly frowned upon), lets walk with a respectable distance between ourselves through today's adventure..

Sub titled... "The mystery of the yet to be reviewed cafe"

I found myself standing in 45 degree heat on the corner of 2 back streets behind the gold souk near to the Madinat Zayed Market. Swaying gently in the afternoon haze and looking like someone had thrown a bucket of water over me, I was staring at animal carcasses hanging in a shop window on the other side of the intersection. While crossing the street I noticed one of the two hair-netted guys sitting out the front of the butcher turn and say something to his compadre.

"Did this guy fall in to a drain? I hope he's not coming over here to talk to...crap - I think he is... look disinterested, how can someone sweat so much and still be alive?"

At least, that's what I think transpired, my fluid depletion may have clouded reality somewhat...

But let's rewind.

Even though I had been bitten by the less than useful directions offered by AD Week in a previous review , I decided that in order to maintain the integrity of the abudhabilist.com Abu Dhabi coffee study, I had to at least try to utilise their directions to the cafe in their number 3 spot.

An entry that read:
3. Zyara Cafe. This place in the Madinat Zayed is basically an eatery, but does well as a genial near-Bohemian coffee bar.

In spite of my immediate thoughts about what constitutes "near-bohemian", I was excited (near -bohemian? Unless of course the clientele are NEARLY marginalised artists, NEARLY unorthodox, NEARLY anti-establishment or the place is located in or NEAR an area inhabited by gypsies I really don't know what that means).

I had also looked at another review that filled me with hope... THAT review suggested that Zyara could be the surprise package.

This second, and older review on another publication's site (pertinent point that: it was an OLDER review.. hold that in the back of your mind dear reader) also gave the address as Madinat Zayed, thus confirming from a reference point of view that Zyara was indeed to be found by driving to Muroor Rd, parking, and then strolling to the cafe where my near-bohemian beverage awaited me.

Adhering to the initial plan, and zapping through the midday streets found the mighty Volkswagen Polo parked safely in front of Madinat Zayed shopping centre - it's the one next to the gold souk for those taking notes.

Inside there were a couple of cafes but none called Zyara. To make sure though I walked the loops of both floors which in itself was fun. It's a very "Local" oriented shopping space, and I kinda like being the only westy around - gives me the opportunity to wave and smile, doing my bit for international relations and all that. It also offered up a couple of cafe names to add to the list of places to try once this limited focus study was complete.

When it became apparent that my search with respect to the mysterious Zyara had been for nought, I called my long suffering bride and asked her whether she knew where it was.

It would be fair to say that I don't think she is as invested in the project as my good self. Primarily because she really doesn't like coffee. Nonetheless she went to the all seeing oracle (Google) to see what she could see...

...and gave me directions to that were around the corner and into an area where I am reasonably familiar with - our favourite Chinese restaurant is there. While I was grateful for the directions given, a sinking feeling had begun in the depths of my coffee glands - I didn't remember seeing a cafe in that area that fit the description, nor anything even close.

The mission was still there to be done - so a quick car shuffle later I stepped out into the 1pm heat, and proceeded to:

• Walk the length of 12 street.
• Walk back.
• Walk both sides of the buildings on 12th.
• Walk around the Madinet Zayed food market.
• Marvelled that the smell at the back of the fish market didn't strip the skin from my eyeballs.
• Walked back to the corner of 9th and 12th.

Which brings us back to the beginning, where a large bald sweating man was lurching toward a couple of innocent butchers trying to enjoy their break.

The gods must have been on their side, as my coffee-hating wife phoned me just as I'd made the centre line of the road.
(a quick aside.. I am STUNNED that paint can stick to a road surface that hot.. I was stunned too by the 3 legged hula girls in grass skirts - although that may have been dehydration)

"I've had a better look - the other review you were talking about said that it was in a position where you could see the traffic on the corniche. There's no way it could be behind Madinet Zayed"

I headed back to the car - slowly - and got in, put the air-con on and waited until my eyes were clear of floating white spots.

Thoughts?
Far be it for me to suggest anything that even hinted on foul play, but ... could the Abu Dhabi Week reviewer who unknowingly sent me on this caffeine fuelled mission have got their information ... errr.. mixed up? Could they have relied on a secondary source rather than their own experience? Is it a coincidence that the misinformation put forward in the older review was repeated in the newer?

With these thoughts in my sweaty head I retreated, at pace, to the sanctuary of the ADNOC to grab my Coffee Planet machine coffee.

Yes-I realise that up until now I had been referring to it as "Planet Coffee", I noticed it for the first time today as I was staring at the machine, hoping there weren't any ex-St Kilda folk looking on sadly shaking their heads.

I think I prefer Planet Coffee... and may contact the company to suggest such. Although I think they have enough to concern themselves without listening to the rantings of some unstable Australian coffee hound who maybe in love - real love - real, honest, til death do us part love - with one of their Petrol Station machines in a Middle Eastern desert.

I might rename the ADNOC machine anyway.

I think I'll call it Charlene.

Tomorrow is another day.. and with any luck Zyara will be part of it..

I figured that, in order to keep my sanity, I'd go to the top o' the "Five best coffee shops" list that was published in Abu Dhabi Week (Vol 2, Ed 23, Jun28-24, 2009) in my hunt for a cup of the good stuff.

My reasoning?

If I started at the top and worked down, I had the opportunity to be surprised by venues lower in the list, rather than starting at the bottom and being consistently and routinely disappointed by those higher up.

Bah! Who am I kidding? I ended up at "The One" because I knew where it was, and I was pretty sure the parking was going to be okay.

"The One" is a cafe inside a furniture store, or a furniture store around a cafe.. or in the cafe... whatever - you can buy food, coffee, lamp shades and dining tables in whatever combination suits you best.

Me?

I was simply there for the coffee. No food. No candelabra. No glass bowl with pretty coloured stones in it.

"Give me coffee and somewhere to sit, that's all" was all that I required.

In a move of marketing genius (?) there are no signs to direct patrons to the mezzanine floor cafe. The stairs are obscured by well placed nib walls that funnel traffic in the opposite direction to where someone with a hankering for coffee might want to go.

After seeing through this subterfuge (not before finding myself looking wistfully at a crystal vase, some tea candles and a tea trolley) I found the stairs that lead to what I was hoping to be coffee nirvana.

All signs were good, the cafe was dimly lit. The leather tub chair couches were anything but pristine, it had chalk board menu's, it had a cool vibe going on. I was met by one of the wait-staff who told me that I could have my choice of seating, and seemed happy that I had no need of a menu as I simply wanted a cafe latte.

My guy walked off with a look that suggested that he knew what I meant - I was here for the coffee.

Coffee from a place that had recently taken home the chocolates for "Best Cafe" at the Time Out awards.
Coffee that would bring my search to an end, and make the rest of my reviewing process a burden.
Coffee that would be the touch-bean against which all other coffee would be measured.

My order arrived really quickly and had a ginger bread biscuit jauntily placed on the saucer, all the fixings I needed had already been placed on the table in preparation.

I smiled and waited for my coffee courier to move off, so I didn't appear too eager, too... desperate... then, raised the cup to my lips - perhaps a little hot, but not blisteringly so.

I sipped.

I placed the cup back, and made my verdict.

"It's okay" I mumbled to myself - (I spend alot of my days alone, mumbling to myself is now not so much a habit as a lifestyle decision)

I mean... angels didn't sing. I didn't feel compelled to send it back, but I didn't feel the need to order another, OR repeat my drive across town to acquire it.

It was 'okay' - if I was walking past and was desperate, would I go in and grab a quick cup? Sure. If someone was to ask me to meet them somewhere over that side of town, and could I suggest a place? I'd say "The One is okay - let's meet there"

Is it GREAT coffee?

No, no it isn't.

The hunt continues, next stop is number 2 on Abu Dhabi Week's list - Le Brioche - if I can find it.

Now to the Abu Dhabilist coffee-scale-o-metre-thingy.

The bottom of the scale is "worst-coffee-I-have-ever-had-in-my-life-including-day-old-McDonalds-reheated-in-a-microwave-coffee" - a better explanation will be in a forthcoming post.

In short though: I never imagined coffee could be THAT bad... Tuesday 24th June was a watershed day for rubbish coffee, consumed 2 hours before going to "The One" - which means, really, "The One" should have starred, given that my palate was still reeling from the assault made upon it.

Starbucks will take the middle spot - purely as a commonly accepted "Average mass produced coffee" reference.

Top pick is current title holder of best Abu Dhabi coffee, and the source of my guilty little secret - The Planet Coffee Machine at the ADNOC on 30th. (see post "Coffee in Abu Dhabi?... it's a real problem")

So here goes...

• ADNOC- planet coffee machine
• The One
• StarBucks
• anything else, including but not limited to, licking tarmac
• CDR (more on this place in a further post)

The One can be found near the corner of 32nd and Sheik Zayed the first streets, parking out front or in the little side street next to it - but as usual during peak times you may want to be a little less demanding about how far you have to walk from the car.