Arabian Autographs: Dinner On The 73rd Floor
"...waiters appeared from the shadows with armfuls of fluorescent-lit slates. It turned out these, resembling something out of Star Wars, were our menus...'' Angela Townsend dines in a classy restaurant in the Kingdom Tower, the tallest landmark in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia.
Forty-eight hours after my return to Riyadh I found myself enjoying a delicious meal in a very exclusive restaurant in the Kingdom Tower, Riyadh's tallest landmark.
Still experiencing jetlag after crossing ten time zones, I was reasonably bright-eyed and bushy-tailed: after all, back home it was 7am.
We joined our friends and their children for no particular occasion, just a nice opportunity to catch up on the latest gossip. OK, so we live barely 150 metres apart on the same compound, but there is nothing like someone else's cooking.
Looking out over the sparkling lights below, I felt I could have been anywhere in the world. Streams of traffic delineated long, straight lines of luminosity to the city's edge as the sky grew increasingly dark.
The restaurant's atmosphere was cosy, although a little dark, with no candles on the tables. Just as I was wondering whether we would need a torch to read our menus, waiters appeared from the shadows with armfuls of fluorescent-lit slates. It turned out these, resembling something out of Star Wars, were our menus.
The pages were full of delectable offerings, from salmon and prawns to pasta, cheesecake and tiramisu.
The waiters hovered patiently in the background while we made our selections: eenie, meenie, mo…
I ordered grape juice, which tasted unappealingly like corked wine and made me wish I had stuck with orange juice.
Everyone's eyebrows shot up when a shot glass of slightly muddy-looking liquid was placed carefully before each of us. Not wanting to appear ignorant, it took a while before someone in our group asked the waiters what it was.
On being told it was vinegar, he then asked what it was for.
"Cleansing the palate, sir."
It must have been fairly obvious none of us frequent five-star restaurants. In fact, I could count on one hand the amount of five-star restaurants I have been to in my life. I guess I am more of a casual diner, preferring to pay for the food rather than the service.
The two babies slept on peacefully in their prams while our friends' primary school-aged children had quickly recovered from the novelty of the space-age menus and now fidgeted in their seats. It was not the most child-friendly choice of restaurants, but the waiters were very accommodating, providing a special meal of chicken nuggets for the children.
We were all surprised to see many tables occupied by young, unaccompanied Saudi women. In groups of four or more, they half-filled the restaurant. A few men were dotted around the room, mainly in pairs, but the remainder of the restaurant was filled with families: mainly large groups of females with one or two males keeping chaperone.
Most of these women also had their faces uncovered, which surprised me, because it was not something seen in everyday life. It was clear that the women were not expected to cover up in the darkened atmosphere of the restaurant.
However, I am sure they would have all been covered by the time they stepped outside the tower. Unlike what I had seen in the food courts, only a handful of women ate by lifting their veils outwards to accommodate a fork or spoon.
I know I would not have the coordination (or patience) to do that - it would end up all over my abaya for sure!
With full stomachs and the bill paid, we said our goodbyes and waited in the Four Seasons Hotel lobby for the valet to return our Jeep.
It was a good night. I would like to do it again, but don't fancy my chances.
Not judging by the way my husband looked forlornly at his much thinner wallet.
