On too many occasions, I have walked into a new restaurant with high expectations, only to leave two hours later with a bellyful of disappointment.
I want to love every restaurant I visit. I always wonder, is this the one? Will this be my new favourite place in the city? Will it be where I take my friends when they visit?
It is with this childlike enthusiasm that I book a table at Ruya, the newly opened Anatolian restaurant in Dubai Marina’s Grosvenor House hotel.
My expectations were higher than usual – in part because it was my birthday, but also because Ruya’s executive chef is Colin Clague, an esteemed figure who has run the kitchens of Zuma Dubai, Qbara and, most recently, Jean-Georges. His reputation precedes him and I walked in with very high hopes. Ruya is a sight to behold. The massive space is filled with wood and amber tones, with lanterns casting a warm glow over the lounge. There are four dining areas, including one near an open kitchen filled with chefs who look like they’re moving in fast-forward, and a lounge with chairs and tables well suited for eating as well as socialising.
While parts of Ruya have a Zen-like tranquillity, others are buzzing with energy. There’s a big oven at the entrance where the chefs cook meat for kebabs on one side and bake pide (Turkish flatbread) and lahmacun (Turkish pizza) on the other.
It is modern and contemporary, but also manages to exude traditional Turkish culture and ambience. I love it.
We sit at a table next to the main bar. The music is a little loud for my liking but it helps drown out the conversation and bar prep around us. The restaurant was fairly busy when we arrived – which was early – and packed by the time we left (always a good sign).
The menu is filled with dishes reflecting Clague’s innovative cooking style. More than a dozen hot and cold starters include Jerusalem artichoke soup with aubergine purée; cornmeal and cheese fondue with wild mushrooms and truffle butter; and burnt watermelon with sheep’s cheese and tomato. It is hard to narrow down our choices but we settle on sea bass sashimi and kibbeh.
The sashimi is swimming in just the right amount of sauce – an intriguing mix of mustard, soy, tahini and apple vinegar. It is beautifully presented, with a sprinkling of green leaves on top. The fish is delicate and mild, and the acidity in that apple vinegar rounds out the layers of flavour in this dish. I can’t get enough of it.
The kibbeh is equally impressive, packed generously with shredded duck-leg meat. There is a nuttiness, too, though I can’t identify what type of nut is used (we got three different answers from three people when we asked).
We excitedly move on to the mains and I feel like a child opening birthday presents, thrilled to see what’s in each package but secretly worrying it might be disappointing. Thankfully, the mains deliver.
I can’t resist pide and I order what seems to be a simple cheese version – but what I get is anything but simple. Baked in that ultra-hot central oven, the crust is perfectly crisp. It is smothered with two cheeses – ricotta and a Turkish sheep’s cheese – and there’s a soft egg on top that adds a smooth, creamy texture. This is crispy, salty, cheesy comfort food.
The whole grilled sea bream we order is big enough to share (if you also get a starter or two).
It is served in a large clay vessel and our waitress makes easy work of deboning it for us. The fish is mild but packed with flavour, enhanced by a sauce that is a lesson in how to layer and balance flavour, with lemon, garlic, fennel and butter. We finish it all.
The saffron French toast I get for dessert is delectable. The warm plums on top complement the iced kaymak (Turkish clotted cream), which has a silky-smooth, mildly cheesy flavour. The tasty caramelised topping adds a bit of crispiness.
We also get the Stamboul, which seems to be an Anatolian version of strawberry cheesecake. The creamy base is topped with strawberries and basil, which lend an earthiness to this sweet treat. Pistachios add a welcome nutty crunch.
The service was swift and on point throughout the meal and should be commended.
Ruya serves up a worthy, memorable experience, with flavours that will surprise and delight. When my friends come calling, I now have a dependable spot to take them.
Those high expectations? Easily met – and then some.
Our meal for two at Ruya in the Grosvenor House hotel cost Dh459. Reviewed meals are paid for by The National and conducted incognito. To book, call 04 456 1122
sjohnson@thenational.ae
