Not very inspiring right? (Apple iPhone 3GS)
My workplace yesterday closed for a good three hours as we headed out for lunch at Half Moon Restaurant in Seri Kembangan. The restaurant name, its supposed specialty and location did not rub well with me but I decided to keep my comments and go into the wait-and-see mode.
Four cars convoyed to this precinct in the capital where no one was entirely familiar with. I read in some blogs in the morning that the restaurant is located not far from South City Plaza. I don't know where the plaza was but they said it was this building on the left just as you pass the Sungai Besi toll plaza. That piece of information is really a non-starter because there is no access road after the toll to anywhere and the first way out is exit 209 to UNITEN.
Fortunately one of us had the service of a borrowed sat-nav so he led the marauding charge but not without hiccup. Is it by default that we must get lost whenever we venture into a new turf? The sight of four cars taking turns making a u-turn also reminded me so much of out-of-town wedding trips. Who can tell me that they've never got lost getting to a reception somewhere in the neck of woods of Kuala Pilah? I suppose there is nothing wrong with a little misadventure to get to good food and great company right?
The descent onto Seri Kembangan is our office's newly-formed Gluttons Club's quest to find good food but one that is not part of a franchise or an international brand. So Pizza Hut is out. And PappaRich and certainly KFC. Not even Nasi Lemak Antarabangsa, please. We seek to find hidden gems anywhere they may be, methodically raid the place and masticate like gluttons. We aim to do this on a monthly basis and every time you'll see a new organizer (or chairman). This inaugural do is thanks to my colleague but I have been chosen to be the next organizer. My dear colleagues, good luck.
Half Moon ran into chaos for a moment when we arrived. Some customers were irritated judging by the look in their eyes even though we haven't started banging on the table and chant we want food, we want food. The waitstaff sprung to arrange four tables horizontally to accommodate our party. I noticed there was a sizeable number of middle easterners dining at the restaurant; I didn't know Seri Kembangan has a large population. No wonder Half Moon opened here.
The other end of the long table (Apple iPhone 3GS)
Not easy to achieve the glowing moon effect on the menu cover (Apple iPhone 3GS)
Hey guys, can we change the colour on this thing? (Apple iPhone 3GS)
In unison we agreed that we should have more lamb than chicken. Hummous is a must at any middle eastern joint and so is tabbouleh, a Lebanese salad. Cucumber yoghurt will provide the light perspective to the expected heavy meals. We did not take that long a time to decide on what to have but the act of ordering in itself took a longer time than deciding what to eat. Not only that the attending waiter had a strong accent that made comprehension incomprehensible to a certain extent, our representative also had to sort out the administrative, you know like how many people can a plate cater to, how much should we order to make 17 kids happy, what goes well with what, et cetera. I saw a lot of hand signals in play.
To the uninitiated, Biryani is as much middle eastern as it is south asian. No one could thump her chest and announce that the cuisine originated from her birthplace, similarly with chilli crab and yee sang. Most of the nations in the Arabian peninsula and southern asia have their own version of the biryani. Consisting of pretty much the same basic ingredients such as long grain rice and spices, it is the type or number of spices used and way of preparation that sets one biryani apart from another.
Serving and eating manners are also different. In Pakistan or India, they prefer their biryani dry i.e. without gravy. The Arabs they share a plate, or a platter to be more accurate. We like to be generous with the dal curry so much so that there is a puddle forming on the plate, then you ask yourself where have the rice gone to. Biryani for whatever it's worth, must be delicious and 'solid' enough to stand on its own, to be eaten by itself. That's the acid test or so the experts say. Dishes like veggies, eggs, salad and curry are complimentary flavours. In certain other recipes, meat like lamb, beef or chicken is cooked together with the rice, in the pot.
The aluminum foil in the foreground was used to wrap the royal lamb (Apple iPhone 3GS)
Maghdut lamb, Royal Lamb and Haneth Chicken made it to the list, apart from the side items. Despite the ordering downtime, the food left the kitchen almost instantly. We just gawked at the industrial-standard (it's larger than the usual diameter) steel plates before our eyes. The portion was huge! Even the meats seized the opportunity to conceal themselves under the mountain of rice. We've read or heard about how Arabs have big appetite and maybe how one bearded fellow can devour a poor lamb (slow-roasted or grilled, not alive) in eight minutes but you've always dismissed that as an urban myth concocted by the travel magazine. It's real let me tell you! Their cultural surrounding, geographical conditions and their physical make-up justify the big eating habit. We are no match in that department.
Note the difference in diameter (Apple iPhone 3GS)
My best biryani experiences were conceived in Delhi and Brick Lane in East London and I never expected Seri Kembangan to come close. Now I would like to put it out in the open and declare that Half Moon's fares rank high up there in my personal list of talented biryanis. All the winning signs were displayed. The grains were loose, they did not stick to each other. As a lone dish the taste was out of this world. The chicken and the lamb were perfectly cooked, diffused the right colours, gave the right tenderness and aroma. The lamb meat did not smell too badly.
The sides had their bright spots too. The hummous dip, although it was a no-frill version, had the right degree of bitterness to it. The flatbread was crunchy and delicious even on its own. The tabbouleh did not make it to our table (must have been lost in translation), instead what appeared was the Arab salad which did not disappoint at all. The cucumber yoghurt was refreshing although they could be more charitable with the green cylindrical thing.
It was becoming increasingly evident that the Gluttons Club members could not handle the amount of food spread before them. Perhaps renaming the club to a more genteel name like the Foodies Club would be more apt. We struggled labouriously but all's not lost as we managed six plastic containers of leftovers to take back to the office. If only Adam Richman was a member...
Beautiful isn't it? (Apple iPhone 3GS)
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