Gulf House, Tradewind Square, reviewed

The Gulf states are much more than their public image.

A headless rush towards hyper-capitalism that will show the West how it is really done, has revolutionized the image of what really wonders, like in Dubai.

That city, in particular, has become a kind of shorthand for the expression of crazy, exuberant opulence, epitomized by things like the mighty Wagyu-douche Salt Bae.

Tell someone you’ve spent a week in Dubai and they’ll imagine you surrounded like walruses by Russians grazing by the pool, followed by conspicuous consumption.

But as anyone who’s ever dipped a toe into the murky pool of PR will tell you, there’s the image and then there’s the thing.

So when it was announced that a 1970s Dubai souk-style restaurant was opening, you’d be forgiven for thinking it was a gimmick with a few gas stoves.

I visited Gulf House with an open mind.

It’s a terrible cliché to say that the interior of the restaurant “transports you to another world” when for the most part they’ve just installed fancy lamps and forced the poor servers to wear outlandish uniforms.

But Gulf House actually has a transporting quality. It might have something to do with it being in a basement where the outside world is left to noisily explode and for a moment you forget it exists.

It certainly has something to do with the interior, which has been created with respect for the details typical of a film production. But despite this, it doesn’t feel like a gimmick. You don’t have to walk past endless Vespas and leather ones twice nonna in any Italian restaurant, so why should the Middle East be any different?

There is a palpable calm in the place; cool, comfortable and calm, from the kind and considerate lady serving me to the Dubai traditional music that pleasantly occupies the space in your head where white noise or boredom usually sits. Even the muffled clatter of the kitchen has a calming effect.

It was lunch time and I was hungry. I had recently eaten the closer sides of a Middle Eastern kebab, as delicious as the grilled chicken pieces, so I was looking for something a little more fraternal.

And that’s what I got. A small appetizer-sized bowl of lamb broth was brought unannounced, which was a pleasant surprise. Just enough to get things going without taking up too much space, it was done in minutes. It rings with the flavors of long-braised lamb bones and a well-chosen, not extravagant, selection of herbs and spices. Those globs of fat, while unappealing in writing, were a sign of a happy lamb turned into a soup that will make you smile.

The broth folded and I opted for the lamb fahsah (£9); shredded lamb in marag (lamb stock) with fenugreek, mixed chillies, garlic, tomato, coriander and “a special blend of herbs and spices”, served with fresh naan bread. Who needs rice when you have naan the size of a dinner table.

While fahsah may not win any beauty pageants, anyone whose taste buds haven’t been spoiled by Instagram will tell you that tastes matter, and on that basis, fahsah is a winner. It was the type of stew that you know was made with care and concern and crucially with liberal use of the most important ingredient, time. When such dishes are left to really simmer, that plump, happy dance of lamb with herbs and spices hints at depths of flavor that are truly mystical. What can I taste? Sometimes it’s better to just enjoy.

The humble naan bread is comfortably up there with the best ways to put food in your face, frankly. Sack your cutlery and size, scoop and stack to your heart’s content. I did and it was a wonderfully simple way to enjoy a quiet, solo lunch. The Gulf House Salad (£6) helped in this regard; a simple arrangement of tomato, cucumber, parsley, red onion, carrots, bell pepper, olives and feta. A sprinkling of each on an irregularly sized piece of naan topped with plenty of fahsa and plenty of napkins made for a very pleasant lunch. I could have sat there all day doing that, but the annoying thing about stomachs is that they fill up.

Of course, Gulf House tends towards traditional in many ways, no alcohol is served, which for me, who admits to enjoying a drink or two, was just fine. No, honestly, it was a nice change. The Mango Lassi (£4.95) was both thick and yogurty, but an incredibly refreshing and pleasant change to the usual fizzier side of the drinks menu.

I wish I was at the meeting when Gulf House was shown. So many kitchens in the rest of the world have been Disneyfied in one way or another – from a-little-a-neighborhood a-delis about as Italian as Frankie and Benny’s to the confusing circus that still surrounds East Asian-inspired restaurants – so it’s nice to meet Emiratis who have made a postcard home to the four walls and the kitchen.

If you visit Gulf House hoping to be ‘transported to another world’, while you may find it in the decor, you will certainly find it in the food.

Gulf House74 Tradewind Square, L1 5BG