05.18.07

Famous Fat Ibrahim

Posted in Astoria, Middle Eastern, On The Open Road, Queens, Seafood at 8:01 am by Administrator

I’m no innovator. Famous Fat Dave’s Five Borough Eating Tour On The Wheels Of Steel may be one of a kind in this town, but the concept of cabbie-as-tour-guide is not unique. In almost every country I’ve visited, I’ve found cabbies who double as tour guides. It’s only natural. Who knows a city better than the people who drive all over every inch of it, talk with every person in it, eat at a different place for lunch every day?

When I blew into Cairo in February of 2005, I’d already been doing my eating tours for friends and family (and friends of family and family of friends) in New York for years. But I met a cabbie there who took me on a tour that made me realize I should be Famous Fat Dave for real.

As far south as Abu Siembel (40 clicks north of the Sudan border) I’d heard rumors of this cabbie in Cairo who gives pyramid tours. On the way to Luxor I ran into a friend I’d met back in the Sinai, and she gave me his name and number. So the minute my train stopped in Cairo, I called this Ibrahim and within an hour he met me at the station cafe just as the sun was coming up.

He was a huge man with a huge smile. After he made sure I was well fed at the cafe, we were off. His cab, a classic black and white taxi (the yellow cab of Cairo), was comically small. I couldn’t bring myself to dream how this big guy squeezed into his tiny 1975 Peugot with 3,000,000 km on it all day long. But he did.

We spent the day cruising around the 22 pyramids of the lower Nile region. He stopped at all the amazing views. He gave a running commentary on everything from Egyptian history to Cairo traffic.

And his jokes were priceless. Before we stopped for lunch, he said that his cab was “hungry too.” At the gas station he pointed to the oil palms lining the Nile, turned to me and said, “But David, we don’t have much oil here. Only a little” and then made a gesture as if to ward me off. “Mr. Bush can smell oil,” he said (he never knew that I was crying inside). When a man pulled his donkey into the gas station, Ibrahim let out a belly laugh and told me the donkey was there to get gas too, “IN HIS ASS!” I’m not sure if the pun was intended.

I wanted to go native for lunch. I’d never tried Egyptian seafood, and I saw some people eating it at a stand. But Ibrahim warned me not to eat anything out of the Nile. Instead Ibrahim took me to a super touristy spot because he got to eat there for free (this was not an eating tour after all, we had 22 pyramids to squeeze in). Still, the meal was delicious. The babaganoush, tahina, hummus, and pita were nothing less than fantabulous. And the mixed grill and pickles were okay. But I could have eaten for three days in Egypt for what it cost me.

By the time we reached the Great Pyramids at Giza, he’d taken a real shining to me (I’d like to think). I told him about the Famous Fat Dave tour I conducted back in NYC and that I drive a yellow cab, so, naturally, he saw a little of himself in me. He pointed to my burgeoning pot belly and said that in 30 years, I’d have a belly like his. I told him I hoped to have a tour like his as well.

So when I returned to New York, I began promoting my tour in earnest. I’d already discovered a great Egyptian spot to take people on Steinway Street called Kabab Cafe. The food there is better than most I had in Egypt, and Ali, the owner, with his larger-than-life personality and bold opinions reminded me of Ibrahim.

My cousin Aaron, the swingin’ violinist who played on my theme song, moved to NYC last week (his first gig will be as the lone violinist at a Stephane Grapelli tribute at Lincoln Center on June 1), and I took the drive out to LaGuardia to pick him up. Afterwords, I stopped off to see Ali on Stienway Street for some falafel and a chat. But his store was shuttered for renovations. I considered going to his brother’s restaurant Mombar up the street which is just about as good, but I noticed an inviting place called Sabry’s across the street.

Sabry’s bills itself as an Egyptian seafood restaurant. Because Ibrahim warned me not to eat any fish out of the Nile, and it’s illegal to fish out of the Red Sea, I never ate any seafood during my month in Egypt. So I was intrigued.

This place had some beautiful looking fish on display in the middle of the dining room:

And all sorts of interesting fish were being pushed across the counter to the frenetic waiters like whole Red Snapper:

And fish heads:

We got it started with some of best, hot pita I’ve ever tasted:

A strawberry smoothie that would have hit the spot if I were in the Sinai:

And some fried shrimp to gauge how good the place might be compared to any old seafood shack:

We could tell we were in for a treat, because we’ve both had our fair share of fried shrimp, and these were especially good. They were plump and fresh, fried just to the point at which the freshness was still evident.

Our main courses were amazing. The talapia special that the waiter pushed blew my freaking mind. The meat fell off the bone like bbq pork even though it was grilled fish. And it was loaded with all sorts of amazing herbs and spices that gave it the flavor of Egypt with the quality control of America.

The other dish they called “fish cake” because it came piled high like a wedding cake. I’d never had anything like it. I didn’t get the name of the fish from the waiter whose English, though better than my Arabic, was a little weak. Nevertheless, I enjoyed the delicate fish mixed with steamed vegetables immensely and I’m glad the waiter convinced me to order it.

Egyptians must just be a gregarious bunch, because this waiter, like Ibrahim in Cairo and Ali across the street, was nothing but smiles and jokes the whole meal:

Ibrahim, from the driver seat of his black and white cab, took it upon himself to explain to me that the Jews refuse to live in peace and must always make war, so the Arab-Israeli conflict will never end. There were billboards all over Cairo proclaiming “Egypt is the Leader of Peace.” Our waiter, however, told us that he thinks terrorists are crazy. I didn’t bring up the subject, and I felt sorry for him that he felt the need to clarify that to me, as though if he’d left it unsaid I’d assume he agrees with terrorism. But mostly, he just joked around with us and smiled a lot.

Even the guys preparing the fish and making that delicious pita behind the counter were friendly:

So I’ve got a cab like Ibrahim’s and a tour like Ibrahim’s. My belly still isn’t quite like Ibrahim’s. But now, unlike Ibrahim, I’ve even got a place for Egyptian seafood.

Sabry’s, 24-25 Steinway Street at Astoria Blvd, Astoria, Queens

Visit www.FamousFatDave.com for five borough eating tours

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