A journey to Maha - 2008

This is an old review that I did in 2008 - we went to Maha early March, just a couple of weeks after it had opened. I went there again last night, so I'm planning on writing a new and improved review ... here is the first version:

My uncle is German. A lovely guy, but well, he’s German. I’ll say no more. My uncle had come to Melbourne from New Zealand with my aunty and parents. As a German he consumes three things. Meat, cheese and beer. When I was asked where I’d booked dinner for that evening, the words “Maha” choked out of my mouth. “I want Prawns” said my uncle. Gulp, I responded, I thought he only liked meat! “Um, surely they have prawns?” I said. It was definitely more of a question than an answer and my dear old uncle saw through me instantly. Please god, let them have prawns I thought. “What type of food do they serve?” he asked, he’d seen the fear in my eyes and he was suspicious. “um…. Well, its sort of a mix between um, middle eastern um.. type foods?”, again, more of a question than an answer. “It’s from the team who run ‘The Press Club’”. I got an icy stare from my uncle. He’s not from Melbourne. He doesn’t know what ‘The Press Club’ is.
Ten minutes later we were wandering down the dark stairs of Maha. I was seriously nervous. My uncle, lets call him Hans, is the scariest food critic ever. If the food and wine weren’t up to scratch, we’d know about it. Despite having an eight o’clock booking, there was certainly no chance a table was ready for us, the place was packed, and people looked like they were enjoying themselves. Just before nine we were seated. Our waiter was knowledgeable and charming. He recommended a couple of Israeli red wines to have with our meal, the 2005 Recantat, Shiraz Gahlee from Israel and the 2003 Yatir, cab/merlot/shiraz from the Judean Hills, Israel. Hans looked incredibly skeptical, “if I don’t like these you’ll hear about it”, our lovely waiter smiled and said “oh sir, I expect too.”
As a few members of the table weren’t hungry and others were, we decided against the set menu, which looked stunning by the way, an opted for a few shahen zghir (small meals), shahen kbeer (large meals) and mouabalet (sides). Hans chose the slow roasted lamb shoulder, harr battata and the lamb special, the tenderist of tender lamb on top of grilled Halumi cheese. We were trying to choose the other meals and to everything Hans said “I won’t eat that. I just want lamb.” My aunty chose the grilled sardine, chickpea, tomato and mint salad whilst my parents chose the John Dory with hazelnut and rosemary mahkroun and an Arabic mushroom sauce. Hamish and I settled on the ma’ahani sausages with cumin roasted pumpkin. After some discussion we decided we also needed the pomegranate cured tuna with an apple and cardamom foam, the fattoush salad and green beans, feta and pine nuts as sides.
Well, the wine arrived, and as Dad and I are complete crowd pleasers (in the sense that we consider a failure in food or wine a personal failure – regardless of who choose it) we were both incredibly nervous as it was poured. I think Dad may have even squeezed my hand slightly – I felt like I was walking down a plank and the sharks were circling. But, we needn’t have worried, it was stunning. Hans was quiet after his first sip and then exclaimed “this is good.” So too was the food. So good in fact, I am not sure what the best was. What shocked my uncle was the slow roasted lamb shoulder. As he kept exclaiming – it fell off the bone. Now when I say that, I don’t mean that in a ‘it fell off the bone” (Imagine that being said in an annoying voice), no, it SERIOUSLY fell of the bone. Just a gentle caress with the fork and the meat was yours. The sausages and tuna were so different, yet the qualities were identical, subtle, balanced and well thought through. Shane Delia is a genius. Seriously, I want to marry him (no offence to my darling boyfriend) but really, can I meet him? The beans were almost the highlight, and I don’t think I’ve ever said that about a side. They were so fresh, so sweet and so perfectly complemented by the feta, roasted pine nuts and the drizzled oil. Now, as I’m sure you can tell by now, I could go on and on, but I won’t. (I haven’t even got to the lemon meringue with saffron yet) and I won’t, you’ll have to find out for yourself. If you want to know how good Maha is, don’t ask me. Ask Hans.