Another Saturday, another breakfast appointment. After testing the "breakfast is one lovely meal" theory the week before and deciding for myself that breakfast is indeed not such a horrid idea as one party person (going to bed at 5am) might think, I went to visit Jones the Grocer. All cool Dubai people like Jones apparently, so why not pay him a visit too?



I entered Jones the Grocer at 11.15 am. Late breakfast for some, still early for me. My friend (judging by his overly enthusiastic wave, I can assume he's been waiting for some time), is sitting at a table in the back, patiently waiting for the whole gang to show up. Although Jones is famous among the cool crowd, it seems taxi drivers have a hard time finding it. Also, Jones's staff faces difficulties when giving directions over the phone, according to my annoyed and hungry friend(s) that showed up 45 minutes late. Some (cool) people know the exact location, but other hobbies (like golf) refrain them (him) for showing up on time.



Nevertheless, the breakfast gang is united and we eagerly proceed with going through the food menu. Making up our minds regarding our order proves difficult. Open the menu, choose something, close it. Repeat. Again. And again. And again. Until confusion settles in. More for me than others, but still. I don't like the feeling at all. I usually panic when faced with large menus. Because it's breakfast, I'm tempted to order eggs or cereals, but somehow, it feels too common (I also know for a fact that someone else will order eggs, so I can have a sneak peak and a bite from their plate), so I go for the porcini mushroom and chicken pie. There's another order of Jones wagyu burger (with extra caramelized onions) at the table, another one of chicken burger, one omlette (or omelet, still didn't make up my mind between the French or the English spelling) and poached eggs on toast with avocado and smoked salmon ( I know my friends well, got my facts straight). For the record, the waiter did inform us of the absence of avocado that day, but we still proceeded with the order.



Placing the order is a speedy process, probably because Jones is packed. Although featuring a large dining space and seating capacity, all tables are taken and there is a reasonable long queue at the entrance. 



A long half an hour and many stomach growls later, we all get our stuff. My square porcini mushrooms and chicken pie looks delicious. Glistering golden brown pastry (of a reasonably large size as well) is accompanied my a small side salad and a ketchup, tabasco and herbs dip (weird, right?). I am disappointed to say that the inside of the pie didn't look as appetizing as the outside. Where I come from, we have a saying for these situations: painted fence on the outside, the leopard hides inside. Doesn't make much sense in English, but I guess what it means is that things are not what they appear. Cutting into my pie, I was welcomed by a mushy and grey filling, which is normal (acceptable) for a pie (I wasn't extremely bothered by the looks, I don't need Picasso on my plate). What was abnormal (and unacceptable) was the bland taste of the concoction and the overcooked chicken.   The pastry proved difficult to cut (correct me if I'm wrong, but: homemade, authentic puff pastry that has the butter incorporated as per the recipe should have fluffy, uneven layers that are a delight to eat and look at; off the shelf frozen pastry replaces the butter with a fabricated fat that steals the fluffiness away and hides it somewhere very far away from the food) and not as featherlike as I expected. You could see the layers stuck to each other. The pie would have been bland in the absence of the odd dip. I never had anything like that, I even asked the waitress for the ingredients. For girls only: I don't know if you ever had acrylic nails or have been to a salon where they do that; if yes, then you must be familiar with the smell. It is not a nice odor, I think we can agree on that. Now, let your imagination put that smell in your mouth. How does it feel?  



On a more jolly note, the grilled chicken burger was a star. The presentation was good ( Jones nails food plating), with a perfectly grilled chicken, tucked in a perfectly baked bun, served with a side of fries and, la piece de resistance, the "eccentric" dip. The meat was juicy (and not overcooked like my chicken), seasoned nicely and it actually made me think that yes, burgers can be healthy. If you subtract the fries on a side and replace it with a green salad, might even pass a diet food on a cheat day.

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For a mere 69 AED ( + 6 AED for the caramelized onions), my "red meat loving" friend got a well done wagyu beef burger ( - the caramelized onions). I can simply not understand why would you cook wagyu - one of the finest types of beef in the universe - well done (especially when it was requested medium). Moving on, I could see from my friend's face that this was not the best burger he ever tasted. For me, the patty looked dry and the burger, as a whole, lacked dressing and veggies. Even better, when opened, we noticed the absence of the caramelized onions which made my friend sigh out loud with disappointment.    



The omlette (or omelet) was as good as any. I, personally, would rarely order eggs (that are not Benedict - and that's because my Hollandaise is always a successful failure) in a restaurant. It is something I can always cook in the comfort of my kitchen, adding ingredients in the preferred proportions and eating them in PJs while watching HIMYM (How I met your mother). Jones's omelet is a golden looking one, over sized but under seasoned. 



As any meal among friends, entertainment should be provided. Unfortunately for one of us, it came in the form of his breakfast. Encouraged to be adventurous and change his usual order of eggs Benedict to another form of poached eggs (the ones with the missing avocado), there are no words in the English language that can even remotely describe the surprised look on our faces. On a large white plate (the kingdom), ruled a dry toasted brown bread slice (the throne). On the throne, the king and the queen (two poached eggs) majestically looked us in the eyes. No salt, no pepper, no olive oil in this kingdom; a kingdom without passion or soul, taste or flavour. Looking back at it makes me laugh. The harsh sound of trying to cut the bread, the desperate shakes of the salt and pepper containers, the absence of any "mmmm"s and "aaaa"s, all blend beautifully in a funny (but sad) food memory.  The smoked salmon was good though, served in a separate bowl. Overall, the dish was dry as there was nothing to tie it together. Runny poached eggs and salmon are not a good combo if there is nothing to counter balance the saltiness of the fish and the fattiness of the mixture.



To lift the spirits around the table, we went for a round of desserts. In an attempt of making the decision easier, we went strolling along the counter, looking for inspiration (or confirmation, in some cases). Raspberry tart, lemon meringue tart and chocolate tart for everyone! Surprisingly, my fave was the raspberry tart. Although the crust was difficult to cut and we ended up eating the filling only, I liked the balance of the ingredients and the size was just right. The lemon meringue tart looked the part. 7 peaks of golden brown meringue covering the lemon filling and the much better crust. For me, it was a bit too sweet. One bite and game over. But around the table, people loved it, so it is just a matter of taste. The chocolate tart looked elegant, with flakes of white chocolate gently placed on top of the milk chocolate filling. I am a sucker for any chocolate-based dessert, so I liked it, but again, the fact that I could not cut into the crust was upsetting, I feel like I've been robbed part of the experience and I'm sure that, overall, the tart would have been much more balanced in terms of texture and taste if the crust would have been cutting-friendly.

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For me, sitting still is not really an option as both my attention span and patience are really short. Jones the Grocer features a very cool (literally and figuratively) cheese room and cold cuts counter that I was drawn to from the beginning, but I only thought rude to leave in the middle of the meal (it is, however, considered acceptable, to leave the table in the 20 minutes took by the waiters to deliver the desserts from the counter - 4 meters away - to our table). Wanting to bring home a memory from Jones, I tasted the signature chicken chorizo and the bresaola and bought some of the chorizo for later consumption. Cheeses you will find plenty, from all corners of the world, for all budgets, for all tastes. You can taste all of them and then make up your mind (but really buy something, don't just taste all and then leave rubbing your tummy). A very helpful employee shadowed me every step of the way and gave pertinent recommendations based on my preferences and wallet size. He was also very patient with me walking in and out of the cheese room, which I found pleasant, considering that in another places they would have given up on me. What I found less pleasant was that my grocery shopping was brought to the table along with the bill we didn't ask for. Talk about speed of service and turning tables.



Jones the Grocer does not have impeccable service or food. The waiters are fast in taking the order, slow in delivering the food. They're in a rush. The food is pricey, but average. 



Jones filled a gap in the Dubai market a while back and it is still riding the fame wave. But with better joints opening up around town, offering better food at lower prices, in a less noisy environment and with better service, Jones better hopes for a new influx of cool Dubai people, wanting to see and be seen. 



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