if you are the kind of person who is swayed by reviews on tripadvisor, you will definitely be itching to visit the cloud restaurant at samann grand. it has a five-star average and over 200 reviews. impressive right?

anyhow, they claim to offer chinese, and if any of you are even semi-regular followers of my foodventures, you will know of my visceral bond with the food of that great nation.

so, here i am at the entrace, the vestibule if you will, with @shaari_, my curly-haired wingman on this mission.

“semen grand, eh?” he grins. oh, boy.

the lift inside samann’s cosy lobby is a curious thing, it starts from 1 – there is no G for ground floor.

‘they’re not grounded,’ says shaari, shaking his head. this doesn’t bode well.

the lift leadenly takes us on our upward journey and we finally reach the tenth floor.

“oh, lord, what a view,” i exclaim. shaari nods, and starts taking pics.

“wow, check this out,” i tell shaari, pulling back a beige curtain. “noor miskiy has solar panels on the roof.”

shaari whistles then snaps a few photos.

‘the king salmon mosque looks imposing even from here,’ he says. i snort. the man wears his sense of humour on his sleeve. or rather, on his upper body – his shirt has the pizza hut logo, only it says ‘pizza slut.’

we get the menus but to my dismay there are no real chinese meals except some wok fried stuff. unnacceptable for a place that claims to offer the cuisine of the people’s republic.

so, i settle for a singaporean noodles and shaari orders a lasagne.

as we wait for our food, the call to prayer booms from the two mosques at full volume.

‘we have got to be the city with the most mosques per square kilometer,’ i tell shaari who nods and says: ‘and the most cafes, too.’

‘i wish they wouldn’t build massive new mosques here when land is so scarce,’ i carry on, finding a rhythm. ‘why can’t they just have a regulation saying every large building must have a prayer hall for its residents? wouldn’t that save a ton space?’

‘maybe you should run for mayor,’ says shaari.

funny guy.

the food arrives in the arms of our server – they are very nice and swift here i must admit. there’s nothing remarkable about my dish tho, except that it came with some chutney which i’ve never in my life had with noodles. and when i DO try it out, it feels very strange, like a man wearing shorts in a mosque. plus the beef is a bit chewy. goddamn. but shaari is enjoying his lasagne.

‘i love the sauce,’ he says. ‘the meat is great and it’s real cheesy overall.’

YOU’RE cheesy, i think to myself.

the bill is over 500, much too steep for this offering, even if it’s a nice enough setting. the good lord knows i’m not coming here again and so we head out to little old modus to drown my disappointment in a coffee i can count on.

shaari’s comment:

A decent lasagna is hard to come by in Male. I’m always skeptical when I order one, like if it’s going to be too dry or if it’s beef or buffalo and most importantly, would it taste like lasagna. This gets the first two right. The last one, not exactly but the flavours still elevate it above average in the city.

On the downside it’s overpriced and the sheets were stiff!