Ophelia, The Ashok’s latest offering, takes you on a culinary expedition where you eat not just with your palate but eyes, nose and skin. By Saimi Sattar
The entire experience is sensory — where you eat not just with tongue but as a wholesome experience with your eyes, skin and nose. But the journey at Ophelia, the Mediterranean-European tapas bar, at The Ashok does not begin with the food but the ambience. The restaurant has two segments — an outdoor one and another indoors. The night that we visited was particularly chilly. So we decided to sit inside even though the outdoors looked welcoming.
Stepping in, our senses were aflush. It was The Great Gatsby meets Renaissance meets kitsch. In short, decadent and wonderfully so. The reds, browns, blues on the walls and the furnishings enhanced the description further. Tracing the lights of a massive chandelier that hung above us, my gaze was enamoured by the ceiling. Paintings were splashed across covering it partially where men nattily dressed in breeches hinted at an era gone by but donning sunglasses that are as contemporary as they get. Then, there were portraits on the walls, some with gashes and others with some portion left out. And it is here that the relevance of the restaurant being named after Ophelia from Shakespeare’s famous play, Hamlet comes to the fore. The lady in question has become the symbol of the distraught and hysterical woman in modern culture, which the pictures hint at.
But enough about the restaurant’s ambience as there were other important things to focus on, like food. Here again, the play with vision was what the restaurant centered itself around. First up was Chicken veloute capellini pasta soup. I know you must be wondering as to how can it be something to be fire the vision with wonder for after all a soup, is a soup and nothing more. But this concoction was brought together with its disparate elements and assembled together on the table itself. The pasta, curled up in a ball was placed at the centre of the bowl on the side of which was a generous spoonful of cooked chicken mash. The broth followed in a separate separate kettle and was poured into the bowl. One could see the the lump of chicken gradually dissolve in the liquid as the pasta too uncurled, not much, just a hint. A sip of its nutty, mushroom-chicken flavour which was perfect without overpowering the senses was just what the doctor would have ordered on a cold, wintry evening. The pasta gave the creamy concoction a bit of a bite. Needless to say, I wiped the entire melange clean.
Next up was the Duck pâté, orange glaze. cocoa soil, beetroot jam and thick toast. The server informed us that this was one of their hot sellers with the regular customers ordering it frequently. One bite into it and we could see the reason why. The pâté, rolled into a ball, was ground into smoothness, looked like an orange on account of the glaze covering it which gave it tartness. The beetroot jam on the side balanced it out with its sweetness making it perfect.
Alongside, we were served drinks. My companion ordered a Hamlet. The way it was served again grabbed eyeballs. A bound Hamlet was placed in front of her. On opening the cover a cavity inside contained a small steel flask with the drink which was pored out with a flourish. I took a mocktail, Ophelia Love, which had flavours of spices and guava. Here again, optics scored. It arrived inside an inverted bell jar which was filled with nitrogen. Opening it dissipated the blur to reveal the mirage of a drink.
By the time that we finished the pâté, the tables around us had started to fill up and we could see that a massive Mezze platter, which could clearly be shared among people had found favour. One made its way to our table as well. It had Lamb adana (a Turkish seekh kebab), chicken roast, an assortment of dips and Chicken pide (a bread, the insides of which are layered with a delicious chicken mixture and is something akin to the garlic bread, which Domino’s, the pizza dial up serves, in appearance). While I found the adana a little tough given my penchant for melt-in-the-mouth kebabs whether of the shami or seekh variety, the pide was a revelation. I broke off a piece and then another and then some more — you get the drift. The chicken inside was tender and flavourful while the bread in which it had been encased, piping hot. Certainly, one which could make for a wholesome snack when you are feeling peckish but don’t want to go the whole hog. But this was not the only highlight of the platter. The six dips, of which I liked the Muhammara, with its red pepper and walnuts, enhanced the flavours of the portions further.
We were quite full but the Beetroot risotto, confit beetroot, mascarpone and crackers followed. We did eat a spoonful but perhaps would have been able to do better justice to the dish if we weren’t full till the gills.
But after everything there is room for dessert. Always. We were served two — Chocolate mushroom, Belgian praline and Apple crumble cheesecake, candied walnuts, grapes, sorbet. The first one, shaped like a mushroom could be eaten in entirety including the stem of the fungus and was attractive but usual. However, I preferred the latter with its mix of smooth cheesecake and slightly crunchy crumble. A perfect end to an immensely satisfying meal.
