Out for a duck
James Fryer leaves an expensive Far Eastern eatery with the munchies.
Honesty is always the best policy. I learnt this through working as a waiter in the UK, where diners would regularly find themselves umming and ahhing over what to order before turning to me in the desperate hope of a genuine recommendation. “Are the baked potatoes any good?” Go for the chips. “How’s the duck with orange sauce?” Steak is our specialty, you know. “And what about the omelette?” Well, our best chef isn’t on tonight. So when, out of the blue, our smiling and attentive waiter exclaimed what an excellent choice I had made with the Peking duck, I was left feeling smugger than a taxi driver with a cab full of tourists wanting a four-hour tour of the UAE.
I’m not sure why he thought it was such an excellent choice. Yes, the presentation was superb. Angular white dishes sat side by side atop a long glass platter, each containing one of the essential DIY duck-parcel components. But how could soggy pancakes be excellent? Not to mention dry pieces of duck. The accompanying side dishes we’d ordered also failed to impress – greasy fried pineapple rice and uninspired pad Thai noodles. Thank goodness I had a fantastic cucumber and mint daiquiri to help wash it all down. Ignoring my disgruntlement, a hungry oriental-cuisine fan sitting across the table was keen to give the duck a try. Not surprising, since her main course looked dangerous. Large shards of shell had been mixed in with vegetables, rice and a small amount of white crab meat in the main cavity of a well-sized crustation. Previously, her tiny starter dish of Indonesian quick-fried prawns had been served complete with head, shell and dollops of sauce, making what little meat there was a slippery and awkward dish to eat. My mixed sushi starter had a bit more to it, at least in terms of rice.
The miserly slithers of mackerel, salmon and tuna had a good flavour, but were nothing special for the price tag. Mun Chi’s décor, on the other hand, is something special. After working up an appetite walking from the front of the Habtoor Grand we reached a chic, stylised dining area complete with elegant dark wood furniture and full length windows looking out onto mature palms, water features and in the distance, the Arabian Gulf. During our late evening visit, said trees were lit with fairy lights creating a virtual ceiling over the intimate outdoor dining area. Only a couple of tables were occupied throughout the evening, with ours located next to a flowing water feature – which seemed to give off an intermittent waft of chlorine. Nevertheless the two-floored eatery lays claims to Chinese, Thai, Vietnamese, Japanese and Indonesian influences, and these have all been subtly and successfully embraced.
We rounded our largely disappointing evening off with a slightly heavy but flavoursome sweet Asian rice with bean paste, and a light and fruity jackfruit malaka. Both received the same attention to detail in the presentation stakes, resonate of the style over substance theme of the evening. A couple of poor attempts at a latte later and we headed off for a quick stroll on the beach. Everyone seems to be singing Mun Chi’s praises. Perhaps it’s just a case of good public relations – the staff were certainly convinced. I have to be honest and admit that the evening’s experience wasn’t worth anything near the Dhs670 bill for two diners who left hungry.
Mun Chi, Habtoor Grand Resort & Spa, Dubai. Tel: (04) 3995000.