When in doubt, go for what you know — and that would be kebab if you’re talking about the restaurant scene. No matter how much gastronomes and food critics alike rave about the sumptuous new cuisines our capital has successfully integrated over the past two decades or so, that juicy sobaa (finger, literally) of kofta still holds a special place in our hearts. My brother-in-law once confided earnestly, “My respect for kofta is up there with that of my mother and father.” In black and white movies, it was also a celebratory treat, a must after a new job, a raise or a deal pulled off. With my first paycheck, I myself, like my father before me, treated the family to a kebab meal.

Not so fortunately for Cairenes, though, the best kebab houses seem to have made their home in the shabby Bahari district of Alexandria. Even so, the two and a half-hour drive to the coastal city — plus the extra hour spent trying to navigate the narrow Bahari alleys to find a parking spot — have never kept aficionados away. Today, one of the most popular of these mainstays, Hosni’s Grillhouse, has come to Nasr City.

Smack in front of El-Serag mall on Makram Ebeid Street, Hosni’s Grillhouse is already always packed at all hours of the day despite having opened its doors only a few short weeks ago and construction continuing on the ground floor. While the original Bahari property is hardly what you would call luxurious — a collection of mismatched wooden chairs and tables, harried waiters who present the entire menu verbally and cats napping peacefully at unfazed regulars’ feet — the Nasr City branch isn’t five-star but it is definitely a step up in style.

The two-floor rectangular dining spaces are done up in more marble than I’ve seen in any single space this size. In fact, it’s the sheer amount of marble — used on every single surface from the walls, staircase and floors to the columns — and not the fresh fish display nor the glass wall running the entire length of the restaurant that first grab visitors’ attention.

But as like the Bahari joints, it’s not really the décor that counts but the food. Much to visitors’ delight, the offerings here are on par with the main branch and do not disappoint.

There are menus here, leather-bound no less, though non-Arabic readers will have just as hard a time deciphering the English section as they would trying to read the Arabic one as the spelling is inexcusably bad.

Salads arrive automatically at every table, so don’t bother ordering any extra. And along with a basket of freshly baked palm-sized baladi bread rounds — which arrived even before our orders were placed — came the essential kebab meal sides of baba ghanough and tahina, in addition to beetroot, pickles and a garden salad. Rather unexpected was the mesh (matured — usually to the point of molding — white cheese blended with tomatoes and chili) and white cheese with yogurt.

Kebab restaurants are strictly for carnivores. Hosni’s menu is approximately half kebab, half fish, but everyone goes for the kebab and most people generally skip starters, side dishes and desserts and dive straight into the meat dishes. Additional menu offerings included broths (chicken, duck and pigeon), pastas and mahashi (stuffed side dishes which come in small, medium and large sizes).

We decided on a small platter of mixed mahashi and another of mombar (rice-filled sausages) at LE 10 each, but barely had time to reach for our knives and forks when the gorgeous smell of grilled meat came wafting toward us as the waiter brought our entrees to the table. Mahshi and mombar forgotten, we dug into the softest, lightest meat in the capital.

My partner and I shared mixed kebab and kofta (LE 75 per kilogram) and a serving of reyash dani (lamb cutlets, LE 50 per kilogram). My kofta was the best I have ever tasted — perhaps my brother-in-law’s words have some truth to them. For those of you who usually cannot stomach lamb, you’ve just got to try the cutlets. Sliced fairly thinly, the meat is encased in a round of pure fat, but once you’ve unrolled that, the juicy cutlets are out of this world. Feeling adventurous? Go for the super-soft nifa (goat’s meat), which strikes that perfect balance between being really well done yet juicy and tender at the same time.

With an entrée menu packed with offerings ranging from stuffed duck and chicken to liver and kawarea (shank), it might well be hard to decide on your order. But whatever you choose, the best thing about this local grill is that you won’t find any fancy spices and marinades, and Hosni’s magic recipe — a simple fusion of onion, salt, pepper and lemon juice — work wonders on your taste buds.

Stifling marble and noisy repair work aside, service at Hosni’s is very fast and strictly overseen by the maître d’, who stands by each waiter’s side as orders are taken and is on hand when the food arrives to personally make sure there are no mistakes.

You’ll be too full for the desserts (rice pudding and crème caramel the day we went), but lingering over a glass of tea with a sprig of fresh mint is the perfect end to a deliciously filling meal.

Mohandiseen’s Shehab Street isn’t huge, but when cruising it with a demandingly empty stomach, it seems to stretch on for miles. After driving up and down the shop-lined street in search of that evening’s destined dining location — the restaurant Sheraz — I finally convinced my reluctant friend to ask for directions. It turns out that the difficulty in finding the restaurant was no fault of ours: We couldn’t locate the restaurant because it no longer existed.

About seven months ago, Sheraz Restaurant, known for its Iranian dishes, underwent renovations and changed its name to Gulf Restaurant. Accompanying the name change were modifications in cuisine and a transformation of its image.

With a rather cold and uninviting outside façade that resembles a rock-climbing wall, I wasn’t expecting the warm interior that greeted us. In fact, it was slightly shocking to see the color orange everywhere from the orange-painted walls sponge-painted with lighter shades of orange, tables covered with orange cloths and orange napkins beside each place setting — even the light shades on the hanging, antique lanterns were tinged orange.

Looking down on the one-room area that would comfortably seat about 50 people was a fiery reddish-orange ceiling.

The restaurant was completely empty on a weekend night — not even a host or waiter was in sight. After a few moments, a waiter emerged from the back kitchen area and seated us at a large table near the only window in the restaurant overlooking the street. Within seconds, the orange tablecloth was covered with complimentary appetizers including fresh vegetables (tomatoes, lettuce, peppers, cucumbers, onions) as well as slabs of white cheese and shallow baskets of fresh, warm bread.

It was only a small surprise when we were offered two menus: one for the old Sheraz restaurant and one for the new Gulf restaurant, which was of course designed with an orange cover. The new Gulf menu is all in Arabic; the Sheraz menu, however, was in English and still listed items we could order.

We looked at the menus and nibbled on the appetizers as we giggled at the abrupt change in music from typical baladi tunes to American pop (think: boy bands such as N’Sync) which had coincided with us taking our seats. Although done in an attempt to please the customers — still only the two of us — I’m not sure I’d give them points for this particular customer service move; I definitely prefer my dinners without Timberlake’s serenades.

To kick off the meal, we opted for a stew starter. The menu listed six different stew options offering meat selections of chicken or lamb ranging in price from LE 34 to LE 42. We narrowed our choices down to the Khoresh Bameya — lamb and tomato stew with okra — and Fasenjoon. Our now all-too-present waiter helpfully recommended we choose the Fasenjoon, proclaiming it the most-ordered dish among foreigners. Although upon first appearance it doesn’t look like an award-winner — granted, it is a stew, so you can’t expect too much in the presentation category — it was immediately obvious after the first forkful why it is so popular. With tender pieces of chicken stewed in a sweet yet tangy pomegranate sauce mixed with slivered walnuts and caramelized onions, it is an immediate delight (LE 42).

Among the other starter options, ranging from salads and dips to Persian style eggplant, was the Mast Kheyar (LE 7), a simple dipping sauce made from cucumber and mint. This is a must-order for me at any Middle Eastern restaurant, and the Gulf’s was not a disappointment with its cool texture and refreshingly strong, minty taste. It went well on everything from the bread and rice to the grilled meats.

Following the same speed at which our starters were served, the main dishes were presented piping hot and with no delay. The Joojeh Kebab (LE 43), a dish of charcoal-cooked, boneless chicken marinated with saffron and served with yellow rice brighter than the color of the sun, was grilled perfectly and very tender. Although not separately listed on the menu, our second main dish was a mixed grill consisting of generous portions of tender kofta and grilled chicken (LE 50) and served with rice and roasted potatoes. Despite our carnivorous tendencies, I was happy to see that there was an option for vegetarians: a dish of fried vegetables (flavored with beef) and served with rice (LE 35).

Even after the most filling of meals it seems that there is always room for dessert, but unfortunately there were no desserts available that evening, despite the menu listing a rather tasty sounding Iranian ice cream with saffron, crushed pistachio and rosewater. Now I not only have a reason to go back and indulge in another main course, but I’ll also have to try the dessert. Nicolè A. Staab

What makes Lakhbatita good is what it is not. In Dahab, known for neo-Bedouin cafés with Bob Marley soundtracks and high-pressure restaurant touts, Lakhbatita stands out as a nice, semi-formal sitdown eatery.

Run by an Egyptian chef and his Italian wife, the restaurant, also known as the Three Fishes Restaurant, offers highlights from both culinary traditions, as well as a select listing of seafood dishes.

The first plus is Lakhbatita’s location along the corniche of South Dahab, next to the Penguin Village. Standing slightly apart from the other establishments, the restaurant has a secluded feel on a strip that crams cafés in like sardines. Lakhbatita also eschews Dahab’s lounge-on-the-ground seating, offering instead full-sized chairs around tables decked in red-and-white checked tablecloths worthy of an Italian family restaurant.

If the weather is good, have dinner outside at one of the waterside tables. It might be a bit hard to concentrate on the menu, what with the waves lapping against the edge of the shore, but when the moon lays a shimmering white path across the Gulf of Aqaba towards the desert mountains, well, you just can’t buy that kind of romance.

During the winter, the outside seating is screened from the wind by Ramadan tent panels; eating inside is the warmer — though less idyllic — option. The décor is eclectic, to say the least. The ceiling and room dividers are made of carved wood doors, and all available surface space is cluttered with giant glass jars of pickled vegetables, antique hurricane lanterns, tools and whatnot. The rafters have sprouted garlic bulbs in bundles the size of pi?atas, dangling by their dried stalks. Other miscellanies hang from the ceiling: Our attention was arrested by the dried tailfin of a fish that in its glory days must have been at least a meter long. Bob Marley was conspicuously absent among the Italian arias and more obscure Eastern European folk music.

The menu features a number of culinary rarities. For instance, the appetizers included carpaccio (LE 15), spelled correctly — that is usually a good sign that someone on staff knows what’s what. The thin slices of raw beef were accented with a light olive oil and lemon marinade, with liberal amounts of sharp grated cheese and a garnish of scallions and arugula. I opted for the clams (LE 35), which were served in their shells in a lemon garlic broth with sprigs of dill. Local clams offer little more than a nibble per shell, but Lakhbatita’s heaping serving more than made up for individual size. Another pleasant surprise: There was not a single unopened clamshell. A few shells were empty, but none had to be hammered open at the table. The focaccia was another star among the starters, served warm in thick squares sprinkled with garlic, salt and rosemary.

For the main course, I had to try the paella (LE 50), a Spanish specialty of seafood on a bed of rice liberally laced with tangy tomato sauce. It was a copious dish, with shrimp, lobster, clams and generous chunks of chicken breast. Like the appetizer, the clams were served in the shell, which got a bit messy in the sauce, but overall very tasty. The lobster tagliatelle (LE 55) in spinach cream sauce was another favorite at the table; the pasta was al dente and the lobster tasted very fresh.

With a good meal, it’s hard to leave room for dessert. If you have to stop eating midway through and get your entrée wrapped for takeaway, do so because you do not want to miss the Hot ‘n Cold (LE 20). Arriving at the table in a piping hot iron-serving pan, this is an apple pastry blanketed in chocolate sauce and caramelized sugar, topped with three scoops of chocolate ice cream. This dessert killed the conversation, as four adults with spoons were reduced to happy noises between bites. The Hot ‘n Cold is so rich, you really should make it a group effort.

For the sake of diversity, we also ordered the tiramisu (LE 15), served in a snifter glass under a layer of whipped cream thicker than the actual cake. Compared to the apple pastry, the tiramisu had a much lighter, less sweet taste, but was sadly neglected by our band of sugar fiends.

The Hot ‘n Cold was obviously made fresh to order, which left us with considerable downtime between entrée and ending. In retrospect, we should have placed our dessert order before we finished the main course. The service, in general, was on the slow side, even though we were among the first diners of the evening. If you’ve got later plans or want to call it an early night, it will be a problem. But if you’re out for an evening of good food and socializing, Lakhbatita is a real Dahab treat. Kate Durham  et

Hosni’s Grillhouse corner of Makram Ebeid and Attia Sawalhy Streets, in front of Serag Mall (Entrance 2) Nasr City Tel: (02) 670-9001 Open 24 hours Prices are moderate to expensive.

Gulf Restaurant 84 Shehab Street Mohandiseen Tel: (02) 304-2629 open 10 am to 2 am Prices are moderate.

Lakhbatita (Three Fishes Restaurant) between Penguin Village and Inmo Hotel Dahab El-Mashraba South Sinai Tel: +2 (069) 364-1306 lakhbatita@hotmail.com Alcohol is not served. Expensive Open 11am to midnight.