Byblos Sur Mer, the upscale Lebanese restaurant at the InterContinental Abu Dhabi, has quickly earned a reputation as the best Lebanese eatery in the capital – and all that buzz led to such high expectations that anything short of perfection during my recent visit was going to leave me disappointed.
The restaurant, a stand-alone two-level venue on the marina, is beautiful. A bundle of copper-coloured hanging lights casts a dim, warm, amber glow across an expansive dining room that opens to a terrace. The second-level lounge area is a perfect space to while away an evening with friends.
I wanted to love Byblos – and I did – the second time I went. However, the first time was so disastrous that the second time almost didn’t happen.
Where did it fall short? The service, the seafood and an almost unbelievable level of disorganisation.
On my first visit, we were left alone at a terrace table for too many minutes before a waiter addressed us. No table settings, no drinks offered, no feeling that we were in a restaurant at all. When our waiter did turn up, we asked about the set-menu options and he explained we’d get each of the dozens of items listed, portioned for two people (which, true to Lebanese hospitality, is enough to feed you for a week).
We chose the most expensive menu (Dh350 a person), which started with a list of 14 cold mezze. And here we hit the first problem. It took 30 minutes before anything edible showed up. It might have taken even longer had we been served all 14 mezze instead of only 10.
I can’t tell you how fresh the labneh is or how beautiful the signature seafood platter is because we did not get them. I can only tell you about the must-try soft-shell crabs – with their crispy, salty exterior caging perfectly tender, sweet crabmeat – because I noticed they were missing and had to ask a waiter to bring them.
The missing labneh? One waiter shrugged it off and told me: “Everyone knows labneh.” He never brought it. And when I asked about that missing seafood platter – with lobster, mussels, smoked salmon and crab – a waiter said it would show up “later, with the grills”.
When those grills came, there was still no sign of it. So I had to ask – again. Yet another waiter explained that one of the grills was, indeed, the elusive cold seafood platter – but it didn’t contain the smoked salmon, the mussels or the crab. It was clearly not the same dish.
At this point, I realised many of the missing dishes were among the most expensive on the menu (some were also missing from the hot mezze we received). Instead of the Dh140 fried baby birds, we were given Dh30 chicken wings. The explanation? “It’s rare for people to like these.”
Each waiter gave a different reason for the missing dishes and it wasn’t until I asked for a manager that I got the real story. He told me those set menus are meant for tables of four or more, with each person paying the set price. No one told us that when we ordered and, once they realised the mistake, I have to assume the decision was made to simply leave out certain dishes.
Poor service and missing dishes aside, most of the cold and hot mezze that did arrive delivered on taste. The highlights: those soft shell crabs; the ajami (aubergine purée, fried aubergine, molasses and walnuts); loubieh (cold bean and tomato stew); lobster kibbeh; whole roasted aubergine with apple vinegar; chicory sautéed in onion and garlic; and the deep-fried red mullet.
This menu is inspired and the food is drowning in flavour, multiple layers of it – these aren’t one-note bites.
But, while many dishes do impress, the seafood disappointed, overall. The sea bass (not listed on our set menu, oddly) had the taste and texture of tinned tuna. The grilled lobster was so overcooked, it was inedible. The prawns, also overcooked, were rubbery and flavourless.
It was so disappointing, given its reputation, I left wondering whether this was just one really bad night for Byblos? I went back four days later to find out.
What a difference. Upon arrival, our waiter immediately brought us drinks, laid napkins across our laps and did what a waiter is supposed to do: he competently waited on us. We ordered six signature dishes, and each bite left me wanting more. We devoured thick slices of octopus set in a lake of moreish garlic-lime-butter sauce that is good enough to drink on its own. The delicate red snapper sashimi, marinated in a mix of zaatar, watermelon, cucumber and olives, nearly made me forget the horrible seafood I had a few days earlier.
Chunks of deep-fried halloumi, perfectly paired with a sweet apricot chutney, were the night’s guilty pleasure. The deep-fried rolled prawns were so good on their own, they didn’t need the dip that came with them. And the fattoush salad came with delicious, crunchy, sumac-covered bread rounds that elevated this simple salad to star status.
The service and the food were so exceptional on my second visit that the restaurant has done what seemed impossible – it redeemed itself. After further research, I learnt the manager, the hotel’s formidable executive chef Danny Kattar and the restaurant’s head chef were all off duty during my first visit, which perhaps makes it more forgivable.
It would behove the team to keep at least one leader on duty at all times, because the disorganisation without them is enough to keep diners away – which would be a tragedy because these chefs are capable of delivering stunning cuisine.
Our first meal for two cost Dh800. Our second meal for two cost Dh325. For more information, call 02 666 6888. Reviewed meals are paid for by The National and conducted incognito
sjohnson@thenational.ae
