Please note that since writing this blog post, Mantoe has closed down
Of all the places on my wishlist to visit, Afghanistan probably isn’t one of them. At least, not at the moment. Whether or not Holland was on the wishlist of Mantoe’s Afghani owners is not for me to presume, but a restaurant in the Jordaan doesn’t seem like a bad way to make a living when you’ve got a food culture to sell that (to my knowledge) is not yet exactly on the gastronomic map of Amsterdam…
A colleague of mine had noticed Mantoe – an elegant, minimalist restaurant attracting inquisitive types wondering what Afghani food is all about – spring up in her neighbourhood, so we went to check it out after work. On arrival, we ordered a bottle of Aussie Merlot from the Barossa Valley (we didn’t get to taste it first, but it was good) and tucked into some more-than-decent olives. Half an hour later, we were still wondering where the menu had got to, when we were told that the restaurant only offers three ‘surprise’ courses. While this was no particular problem for yours foodie truly, I could see that this might not be ideal for people who only wanted two courses, or just a main course, or who didn’t eat meat, or who had some kind of dietary requirements, or…
Several glasses of wine later, our starter arrived: it appeared to be some kind of bruschetta with roasted cherry tomatoes, anchovies, rocket and celeriac (that might have been turnip). Knowing nothing about Afghani food, I can’t tell you whether this was authentic or not… but to me it felt rather like a poor relation of its Italian ancestor.
Mantoe from Manoe – the Afghani dumplings after which the restaurant is named
The main course – or courses, more accurately – were a vast improvement. Lamb with beetroot was sweet and meaty (obviously really – hangover is impeding my adjectives). Pasta dumplings were filled with minced veal, tomato and lentils with a yoghurt and mint sauce. Aubergine with tomato sauce and black-eye beans was mercifully un-spongy. And something that looked and tasted like Afghani Scotch eggs were made less English-picnic by being served hot with a spicy sauce. The whole lot came with side dishes of rice fried with caramelised onions and potatoes with a hot chilli sauce. Despite the sheer quantity of food on our table, we made a commendable dent in it – and it was no chore.
I probably should have stopped at that point, but the third course was part of the deal so we ploughed on with the chocolate mousse with orange gelatine. Again, Afghani authenticity is not my area of expertise, but I could’ve been served my mousse in a European restaurant. It was rich and not excessively sweet, but after a heavy main course it was hard not to let the chocolate defeat me. A choice to opt for fewer courses at a lower price would’ve made sense and allowed the staff to let the table again.
Don’t get me wrong – there are plenty of places where this kind of menu works just fine. But it wasn’t explained to us when we arrived, and neither was the price (€28.50 for the three courses). And this isn’t to say that the service was bad per se. Our waitress was smiling, beautiful and polite; she just hadn’t been trained. This may be one of those restaurants that is still just a little immature – given age and authenticity, it has a lot of potential…
