PARDON the reminiscence, but the name Sahara Club ineluctably brought up memories of wonderful mornings in the real Sahara. It was outside of Fait Tatouine, in southern Tunisia, and coffee from a copper pot on the glowing fire was being poured into thimble-sized clay cups. I was eating creamy goat curd and black dates mixed together in between sips of coffee as the sun was coming up. It was sublime.
Thousands of kilometres lie between Fait Tatouine and Hollywood Road, Hong Kong. But both places call themselves Sahara. The Sahara Desert is endless, remote, sacred. Sahara Club is a bit dingy, urban, prosaic. Both, though, share the joy of real Middle-Eastern food.
In Hong Kong restaurants, 'Middle East' is often misleading. It usually refers to Lebanon, a one-time French protectorate in the eastern Mediterranean, with its colourful mezze buffet.
Sahara Club, though, is geographically correct. Its dishes range from Pakistan through Iran, Turkey, Egypt and up to Morocco.
In looks, the club resembles a Cairo side-street coffee shop - minus the flies and the filth. On the walls are carpets from Tabriz, Teheran and Isfahan. The recorded music varies from bad Western pop to jumping Egyptian pop, but none is intrusive. The buffet unfortunately covers the view from the window. But the Sahara Club is for eating, not viewing.
Manager Mohammad Siddique Khan is from Islamabad, but has worked throughout the Middle East and certainly knows his cooking. And while authentic Saharan-Arabic food is simple to the point of boredom, a collage of 'minor' culinary countries can be fascinating. This is not haute cuisine, yet it's unique for Hong Kong. And, at $70 for a lunch buffet and $120 for a sumptuous dinner buffet, one can't really go wrong.
