Al Angham introduces us to spice, tomato-laden Omani cuisine

I've never been in a restaurant to equal Muscat's Al Angham when it comes to environment.

Of course, now that I've spent a few days sightseeing in Oman, I realise it fits perfectly into what I was

coming to know of the country.  Newly-built, yet modelled on traditional forms, with no expenses spared and an eye to a growing tourist market. Al Angham is part of the entertainment complex adjoining the new opera house, a stone's throw from the main door and undoubtably the place to dine before a performance.  From the moment the doorman in his impressive traditional costume ushers you in, you know you're in for something special.

I'd mentioned my birthday when making the reservations, so the manager arranged a table with a comprehensive view and a scattering of rose petals.  Ornate screens, lavish chandeliers, polished marble floors, pointed arches and lush textiles set the scene.  China, cutlery and glassware have all obviously been commissioned specifically for the restaurant, and every table is graced with that quintessential Omani touch: a silver frankincense burner.  The staff all wear traditional costumes, the women in jewel-toned tunics over narrow-legged trousers, decorated with sequins and embroidery and topped with matching head scarves.  It's all terribly grand, and gives visitors the sense they've snuck into the Sultan's palace for a meal.

The menu was equally exotic, and we'd come prepared to throw ourselves into a lavish chef's menu with intriguing dishes like dry baby shark salad and camel stew.  Sadly, it was not meant to be.  We'd thought Mexican was the most problematic cuisine for my husband's tomato allergy.  Now we know it's Omani.  The poor man could only have two things off the whole menu, so predominant is his culinary nemesis here. So we were limited to the a la carte menu and I definitely came out the winner.

Unsurprisingly for a country sitting at the centre of trade routes between East and West, you'll see a lot that reminds you of Middle Eastern, Indian or Malaysian cuisine, but it's all combined in distinctively Omani ways.  Seafood dominates, with lamb as the main meat.  They use spices lavishly, undoubtably built up in layers to create mixes where no one flavour dominates.  Given the inability to come up with much for Piers on the spur-of-the-moment, I'm guessing most main dishes involve lengthy marinades.  As with Asian cuisines, I noted lots of play with contrasts: sweet and savoury, spicy cut with mild.

I started with awal sambosa, a triangular pastry clearly in the same family as Indian samosas, but stuffed with dried baby shark flakes.  The taste of the sea, but the drying process gives the meat a bite and saltiness that's almost like prosciutto.  It came atop two different sauces: one spicy, one mild, sweet and laden with coriander.  Piers eyed my plate jealously, though admitted happiness with a soup featuring saffron-infused broth with herbs and the local hamour fish.  His jealousy increased at the main course, when he was consigned to simple, though delicious, king prawns.  I got to tuck in to one of the finest curries I can remember, kingfish swimming in a coconut-based sauce of medium heat and dazzling complexity.

This being a resolutely traditional place, there's no wine list.  Or alcohol of any kind.  Instead, you turn to freshly-squeezed fruit juices to complement your meal.  I'm sure there's as much of an art to this as there is to wine matching, and I'm not sure we got our pairings right!  But I can assure you that freshly-squeezed pomegranate juice is a treat totally unlike the stuff you get in stores, almond juice is tasty but should probably be saved for the dessert course, green melon juice is a moderate flavour that seems to work with everything and watermelon juice is a new passion I am going to try to replicate at home.


Freed of the tyranny of the tomato, dessert was the course we could both enjoy and the one that came in
celebratory abundance.

First came a traditional Western-style birthday cake, a rich chocolate mousse that came back to the hotel with us and served as our after-dinner sweet for the rest of the visit.  The manager and all the female staff, arrayed like a rainbow in their vivid costumes, presented it with a double chorus of happy birthday, once in English and once in Arabic.  It's my regret of the holiday we didn't get this on video!  Then came the house dessert platter, with little tastes of everything.  This was a true exploration of the exotic for us.  Halwa flavoured with saffron, cardamom and rosewater; frankincense ice cream; a dense sweet potato-based cake topped with chocolate.  All tasty and very different from anything we'd had before.  The star of the grazing platter, however, was date ice cream.  So fantastic I'm specifically holding back some of the dates I brought home to try making my own version at Christmas.

While the food is traditional, the presentation is on par with any trendy restaurant in London or Paris.  The service outstrips those cities by miles, however.  I have rarely met a team so eager to make sure we were happy.  They were mortified they couldn't offer more ways around Piers' allergy, and were so concerned about getting us home safely one of them was going to drive us herself if we didn't get a taxi.  They're also remarkably proud of the restaurant.  They obviously love the place, have a lot of themselves invested in it, and won't let you escape without a tour of the three exquisite private rooms opening off the main dining hall.  By the time they send you off with a traditional sprinkling of rose water over your hands, your head will be feeling as positive and cared for as your stomach.

The tomato lesson kept us at the hotel for the rest of our meals, which was no great sacrifice.

The Chedi caters to an international clientele with high expectations, reflected in the main restaurant menu.  You can mix and match across Mediterranean, Arabic & Middle Eastern, Indian, Far Eastern and classic French, with an expansive wine list to match.  We dabbled across multiple cuisines.  I had some fine curries, unsurprising as many of the kitchen staff came from the sub-continent.  My favourite dish of the stay, however, was an expansive Lebanese-style mezze platter.  We took our lunches at the poolside restaurants, swinging between Mediterranean and sushi.  Most memorable here was a classic insalata caprese enlivened by an exotic zatar ice cream.

"You've got to try this!" I exclaimed in delight, offering Piers a bite.  He agreed the taste was magnificent, only after he swallowed did he raise one eyebrow at the pink colour.  Sure enough.  I'd never considered they'd use tomato as the base for the ice cream.  Fortunately, he wasn't too sick from one tiny teaspoon.

But it did underline the truth of Omani cuisine:  it's a real treat for tomato-lovers.  Others should approach with caution.