Chicken and Biryani (by G)

I got into Kuala Lumpur late last night and would otherwise have been disinclined to get anything for dinner but I knew I would be hungry later... and the blog demands it.

I had checked into a random hotel at 10:45 and was completely unaware of where I was so decided to walk as little distance I could and eat at the first place I found.  It turned out to be the *something* castle restaurant which turned out to be quite a full on middle eastern place with hookas out front and invasive Arabic music blaring.  I wasn't sure what the deal was but people were ignoring me so I walked all the way out to the back to see if I had to be seated by someone.  It was pretty surreal as waiters and management walked around me as if I didn't exist, like I was completely invisible.  Normally that would cause me to slink out quietly and find somewhere else but I was very tired and I'd had a rough day so I actually stepped in front of one of the waiters and said, 'Can I get a table?' to which he replied, 'There are tables everywhere.'

Okay, fair point - I sat down and the waiter hovered as I looked at the menu. He was so attentive that I ordered at random within about six seconds.  The result was pretty good though - grilled chicken pieces with bread and the creamiest fetta I've ever tasted - the pickles at the back of the plate were really salty, like brined olives.  For some reason I ordered a side of biryani rice - it had saltanas in it which is one of the things I'm not a fan of in middle eastern cooking but the rice was good and I ate it all up.  Not shown is a basket of flat bread and some chicken noodle soup that randomly came after I took the photo - also not seen is my jumbo orange juice - no booze at this kind of place.

I was very self conscious eating here initially (for one thing there were boxes of tissues on the tables... weird - surely the food is not that good), then I realised I was ripping at the bread with both hands which I don't think is the done thing.

After a while I got into it though, and the waiters came around every now and then to check if everything was okay. When I left the original waiter checked that I'd enjoyed myself and asked where I was from and told me he was from Syria.