Baba Kebaba, a brand new Middle Eastern restaurant just off Shida Road (師大路), has a name and a menu that are reminiscent of Sababa, another Middle East-themed restaurant that's opened four branches in Taipei.
Like Sababa, Baba Kebaba sells falafel, hummus, Moroccan cigars and other Middle Eastern/Mediterranean staples. Both restaurants aim to double as hangout spots, a formula that has proved successful for falafel shacks around the world. And like Sababa (沙巴巴), Baba Kebaba's (巴巴卡巴巴) Chinese name sounds both lucky and Arabic, as in Ali Baba (阿里巴巴).
When it comes to the food, however, the two offer very different experiences.
PHOTO: RON BROWNLOW, TAIPEI TIMES
With dishes featuring variety meat - the Jerusalem pita pocket (NT$110) and Jerusalem mix (NT$180), as well as the option of upgrading an entree to get soup, salad and a drink, Baba Kebaba seems to be making more of an effort to suit local dining customs.
While Sababa's food can taste a bit dry at times, Baba Kebaba's goes the other way. On a recent visit, the meat in the lamb shish pita (NT$120) was literally swimming in oil, though it should be noted that the pita did not crack and fall apart. Likewise for the cucumber, onion and tomato salad that I got when I added NT$100 to my kafta and couscous meal (NT$180). The kafta, a kind of dumpling made from minced meat and spices, was also a tad on the oily side, but it was savory and generously portioned.
Other dishes, however, are not as flavorful as one would expect from a Middle Eastern restaurant. A good example is the hummus (NT$80), a spread traditionally made of blended chickpeas, garlic, lemon and tahini. Baba Kebaba's hummus tastes like olive oil and is the texture of puree. Not enough pita comes with the hummus for dipping, and it is buttery and white. This is fine as bread goes, but if you're expecting authentic pita you'll be disappointed.
On the plus side, the service at Baba Kebaba is friendly and efficient. The interior is pleasantly decorated with the standard Middle Eastern touches: Turkish carpets, ceramics, mosaic tiles, mirrors and embroidered cloths. Unlike Sababa the lighting during lunchtime is not too dim, which is good if you want to read a book. If you like belly dancing, you can see it here every Friday and Saturday at 7pm. And Heinekens are free with meals and half-price at NT$40 every Sunday until the end of next month.
Nov. 11 to Nov. 17 People may call Taipei a “living hell for pedestrians,” but back in the 1960s and 1970s, citizens were even discouraged from crossing major roads on foot. And there weren’t crosswalks or pedestrian signals at busy intersections. A 1978 editorial in the China Times (中國時報) reflected the government’s car-centric attitude: “Pedestrians too often risk their lives to compete with vehicles over road use instead of using an overpass. If they get hit by a car, who can they blame?” Taipei’s car traffic was growing exponentially during the 1960s, and along with it the frequency of accidents. The policy
Hourglass-shaped sex toys casually glide along a conveyor belt through an airy new store in Tokyo, the latest attempt by Japanese manufacturer Tenga to sell adult products without the shame that is often attached. At first glance it’s not even obvious that the sleek, colorful products on display are Japan’s favorite sex toys for men, but the store has drawn a stream of couples and tourists since opening this year. “Its openness surprised me,” said customer Masafumi Kawasaki, 45, “and made me a bit embarrassed that I’d had a ‘naughty’ image” of the company. I might have thought this was some kind
What first caught my eye when I entered the 921 Earthquake Museum was a yellow band running at an angle across the floor toward a pile of exposed soil. This marks the line where, in the early morning hours of Sept. 21, 1999, a massive magnitude 7.3 earthquake raised the earth over two meters along one side of the Chelungpu Fault (車籠埔斷層). The museum’s first gallery, named after this fault, takes visitors on a journey along its length, from the spot right in front of them, where the uplift is visible in the exposed soil, all the way to the farthest
The room glows vibrant pink, the floor flooded with hundreds of tiny pink marbles. As I approach the two chairs and a plush baroque sofa of matching fuchsia, what at first appears to be a scene of domestic bliss reveals itself to be anything but as gnarled metal nails and sharp spikes protrude from the cushions. An eerie cutout of a woman recoils into the armrest. This mixed-media installation captures generations of female anguish in Yun Suknam’s native South Korea, reflecting her observations and lived experience of the subjugated and serviceable housewife. The marbles are the mother’s sweat and tears,
RSS