​The name of Baku, Azerbaijan's capital and the largest city around the Caspian Sea, doesn't ring a bell for many, but the ones familiar with the region and its tumultuous history. It is also not a popular holiday destination and there is nothing particularly attractive in this "city of winds" (named so due to the winds blowing from the Caspian sea with great intensity and strength, especially during winter time).
Funny enough and given all the above, a friend of mine travelled to Baku and could not stop talking about it. Why Baku is the best city in the world, why the Azeri girls are the most beautiful, why he calls it his second home and, finally, how good the food is. From all his stories (no offense, man), the one about the food interested me the most and I promised myself, that one day, I'll go to Baku and just eat, see what the whole fuss is about.



When my friends invited me for an Azeri dinner in Baku, I raised a brow but luckily, Baku proved to be much closer than I anticipated, just a stroll away from my place, on Jumeirah Road, opposite Mercato Mall. Excited about exploring a new cuisine, I jumped on board and started sailing towards a new dining experience.

 

I arrived at Baku 2 hours before dinner time, in a desperate attempt of catching up on my work before my group arrived. Baku has high speed wi-fi, a large and quiet terrace, an accommodating attitude towards a fussy guest ("Can I have a plug, please? What is the Internet password? What kind of cigarettes do you have? Can I have a lighter?") and a "no one will disturb you" kind of vibe. Baku was not busy when I arrived, just a few guests having shisha, playing tawla or playing with their phones (a very popular hobby here in Dubai).

 

My dinner party started arriving towards 8pm, one by one, lazily strolling in. There is no secret that, in Dubai, you're not fashionable or "in" if you're not late. What was supposed to be a relaxed early dinner (at 8), became a frustrating affair towards 9pm. 



Dining in a group of 10 is never easy. Neither for the dinner party nor for the waiters. But, as one of the most basic rules of service, all guests sitting at one table need to receive the menu in the same time. And, preferably, order together. And receive their food at the same time. I would hate to see my friends drooling over the table, hear their stomachs growling or even eating under their bitter stares.

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By the time my half of the table gets the menus, we realize that the waitress already took the order from the other half. Hurrying to catch up, I swiftly turn the pages aiming to achieve my goal of trying something authentic Azeri, something I haven't tried before. Coming to my rescue is the waitress that forgot about me a few minutes back! Ordering the starter turns out to be a piece of cake; I want borscht. Because I like it, because it is on my food list challenge, because I didn't have it in ages. Because I can. However, good that I saved my energy for deciding on the main course cause it was, quite frankly, a laborious process. Willing to eat pretty much anything, I waited patiently while the waitress recommended me all rice dishes from the menu, even after me telling her I'm not a fan of rice (meaning I don't eat it unless I'm forced to). Then we moved to mixed grill. Then we went for the dolmas (stuffed vegetables). Then through many others. To make it short, I asked: "What is the most traditional Azeri dish in this menu?" "Baku Plov", she says. Ok, Baku Plov it is. 



It didn't take long until I became one of those drooling people, with bitter stares and growling stomachs. Hush, hush, I said. We'll get our borscht now...but surprise, surprise! We got baku plov first - the main course. Baku plov is a rice-based dish. (long grain, boiled with saffron) Rice takes the center stage of any celebratory Azeri meal, being a staple food across all regions. My baku plov consisted of a monstrous portion of saffron rice, topped with a few dried fruits, herbs and bread. On a side, in a bowl the size of an ashtray, I looked amazed at a mixture of more dried fruits, three pieces of lamb and caramelized onion. Although I am not an expert in Azeri cuisine and I never pretended to be, I know food. And I have common sense. The portion of rice could've been shared by 2-3 people. I am sure that, if it were good, more people around the table would have been interested in my baku plov. The rice was dry and overly sweet from the dried raisins, apricots, plums. The three pieces of lamb were dry, fatty and chewy. They lacked salt to counterbalance the sweetness. Needles to say, there was no gravy to mix the rice with and, no matter how hard I tried to make something out of the dish, I did not succeed.



But what happened to my borscht? Absolutely nothing. Presented with the "competent" answer of the waitress that "it will come now, after the baku plov", I chose to cancel my order, finding it absurd to eat soup after the main course. This is not a dim sum place, neither a sushi one where food comes when it's ready. Now, looking back, I realize I should have kept my borscht order, considering that I could barely swallow the main.



Around the table, my friends ordered a Greek salad (weird choice for an Azeri restaurant, but so be it). Little did I know that, in a Greek salad, one of the main ingredients was bell pepper. The Feta cheese didn't add any saltiness or punch to a rather oil-,salt- and pepper-free salad. Yes, the tomatoes, olives, cucumber and green leaves were all there, but this hardly qualifies as a Greek salad. Change the menu name, guys, avoid confusion.

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Another dish that's been passed around was the dolma and it was, probably, the most tasty of them all. The meat was nicely seasoned and it married beautifully with the sweetness of the tomato. Unfortunately, I only managed to taste the tomato. The plate was empty by the time it reached me again.

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Sajichi Toyug was the last dish of the day. The saj is actually a shallow wok pan, used for making bread, cooking stews, making pancakes and it is safe to say that it is considered the "rice" (staple ingredient) of the kitchen utensils. Now, sajichi literally means "cooked inside the saj". Toyug means hen (or chicken). Looking for the best description of the sajichi toyug, I can only come up with pieces of chicken grilled in a saj, with vegetables and bread. The dish is served warm, in the saj, and placed on the table on a stand, where people serve themselves (or are helped by the sometimes useful, sometimes useless waitress).  I was not extremely fond of the dish. I liked the presentation, it brought a more dynamic factor to our experience. This being said, the roasted tomatoes, bell peppers and potatoes were ok, although lacking seasoning (salt and pepper can make a world of difference to a dish). The chicken was overcooked, but flavourful, so I didn't mind chewing it a few extra times before it reached my stomach. 



This was my meal in Baku. Enjoyable? Hardly. The service oscillated between willingness to explain the dishes and lack of service knowledge. With no managerial presence in sight, the waiters were leaning on doors, chairs and tables, looking more interested at the TV rather than the customers. In terms of ambiance, we better talk about lack of. The music kept changing abruptly from traditional Azeri to commercials to international music videos, however no one seemed to notice.



What was mostly upsetting, for me, was the disproportion of the dish I received. It was clear that a person cannot eat that much rice with so little gravy and it would just go to waste. I don't like wasting food. It is disrespectful.



Does Baku have the potential to be a reputable restaurant, famous across Dubai? Hardly. I think that it will always remain a "habibi" Jumeirah Road establishment, with shisha, tea and coffee, tawla and cards, and guests playing with their phones. 

 

 

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