(written
for eLuna Website)
Restaurant
review:
La
Guta, 18 Rivlin
St., Nahlat Shiva, Jerusalem. Tel. 02-623-2322. Fine French-Oriental
cuisine.
There
are some restaurants where I feel it's best not to chew over
the menu, and instead surrender myself to the waiter's whim.
After all, the person who delivers this stuff to the tables
knows what's a hit.
So I asked my waitress, Adi, "What is the specialty
of the house?"
She couldn't say. Everything at La Guta is superlative.
Alright, then, I told her: surprise me.
While breaking bread with the homemade dinner rolls,
Judy and I warmed up with a tiny tiff. She knew what she wanted
to order, she said, slathering the fluffy bread with sun-dried
tomato spread. But it's more fun this way, anticipating what
might arrive, I responded.
The argument never reached full throttle, because swiftly,
along came Adi's first offerings. The menu called it simply
"green salad," but I counted at least six colors in
it (and numerous shades of green itself), drizzled with a genteel
mustard dressing (NIS 30). Another large plate, demurely understated
as "antipasti" on the menu (NIS 30), was even prettier:
marinated red pepper, zucchini, sweet potato, and a bouquet
of smoked salmon upon artichoke.
After such a splendid first course, with my hunger pangs
somewhat assuaged, I'm perfectly happy to wait a while for the
next course. But although the restaurant was full, Adi never
let us feel unattended. Between courses, she even came by with
a tiny gold crumb plow to refresh the tablecloth. Nice touch.
La Guta trains the staff very well, I noted. The waiters
glide about unobtrusively, and they all seem very happy to be
working there. That's important.
Judy and I were ready for the main course, but we were
made to wait. However, we weren't about to holler, because what
gave us pause was another selection of first courses.
In the heat of summer, soup does not appeal to
me. Good thing I didn't offer Adi my opinion, because what she
brought was a creative wonder: a cool, velvety melon soup flavored
with ginger and honey, a scoop of vanilla ice cream in the middle,
and iced melon balls (NIS 30).
The second plate of our second first course just happened
to be one of my favorite foods in the entire world: goose liver.
Oh, heavens, was this incredible! The menu calls it "tart
of foie gras in onion jam" (NIS 70), but I call it indescribable.
I really hated to have to share it with my date -- not
just because I am instinctively gluttonous with such a treat,
but because of what the liver did to her. I have rarely witnessed
such pure pleasure in a woman, and it made me jealous. After
a series of embarrassing oohs and aahs, she doused my eventual
ambitions by saying, and I quote, "That's enough for me
-- you're off the hook tonight."
This would be an appropriate moment to get off the subject
of satiety, gastronomic and otherwise, and describe the restaurant.
The gentle play of shadows on the arched, Arabic-style
house is consistent with La Guta's elegance. The atmosphere
is low-intensity, high-class. The subdued lighting, brass fittings,
glass-and-wood furnishings, and the individual cloth towels
in the bathrooms, elevate the restaurant to a higher level.
Consistent with that is the caliber of the food, and
the price of a meal. This is not a hangout for riffraff.
Lemon sorbet cleared our palates, though frankly, following
goose liver, I'd rather leave my taste buds just as they are.
I took the opportunity to stretch my legs, and perhaps
get an answer to my earlier query: the one or two dishes that
this restaurant is most proud of.
What, I asked the manager, is the specialty of the house?
He couldn't say. I prodded. Well, he said, our beef Wellington
is very popular, and the soups, and the goose liver. But the
menu changes daily and seasonally, he explained, based on what
fresh ingredients are available.
The restaurant's self-expression, Judy noticed, is further
apparent in the tableware. The plates, cutlery and glasses are
elegant but simple and unornamented. The food itself is the
decoration.
When the next course arrived, Judy's eyes lit up. "That,"
she exclaimed, admiring the plate of salmon fillet, "is
what I would have chosen!"
I avenged the disaster of having to share the goose liver
by insisted on my right to half the salmon (NIS 80). Its red
pepper creme was rich with a slightly spicy buzz, and the salmon
was just about the juiciest I've ever tasted. Talk about cooked
to perfection: someone here has figured out the secret of making
salmon luscious.
The tournedos Rossini (NIS 100), a regal filet bathed
in a sauce of beef stock and red wine, is irresistable to the
discriminating beef lover, and here, too, there was a nice,
creative surprise: the accompaniment, in the same sauce, of
a cooked pear and fig.
We sipped iced blueberry juice with vodka while the tablecloth
was plowed again, and forthwith, more cutlery was summoned.
Adi set down an irresistable "chocolate volcano,"
a name that became clear when we sliced into it, and the hot
chocolate cream in the middle of the cake let forth a burst
of steam.
A pretty flotilla of peppermint leaves made even our
cups of tea above average.
It was behind the swinging door where I finally discovered
the answer to my question: the specialty of the house is "La
Guta" herself.
Guta Ben-Simhon, a lovely, lively kitchen magician, has
been conjuring up fine French-Oriental food at her restaurant
for 11 years. Her culinary expertise began as a young girl in
Morocco, and has become a generational tradition in the family.
She learned the art from her elders, and passed it on to her
children. With one presently learning gastronomy in Switzerland,
she has two sons, Yossi and Guy, managing the restaurant, while
her husband performs the vital task of searching the markets
for ingredients worthy of her pots.
As grand as my meal was, next time I go to La Guta, I
think I'd like to spend the evening in the kitchen, chatting
with the Mama while sampling a bit of everything she creates.