Dine like an Egyptian

In the United States today, there is no shortage of theme restaurants. Rainforest Café recreates the Amazon rainforest. Planet Hollywood pushes Tinseltown. Medieval Times offers jousting tournaments. Chuck E. Cheese has that giant mouse. As a general rule, theme restaurants aren’t known for their food. The main selling point is the idea itself. The food, almost invariably, comes second, not unlike popcorn at the movies.

It’s become a well-known fact that theme restaurants appeal more to kids and tourists while serious restaurants are for adults and locals. It is rare to see a serious restaurant invoke a theme, unless there’s an ethnic tie-in, like German brewpubs, with their beer steins, and schnitzel items on the menu. But, of course, this is America. Leave no rule unbroken, no marketing ploy untried, no theme unturned.

So it is with great fanfare that I announce the discovery of the Egyptian-themed brewpub, brought to us by the Sacramento Brewing Company (SBC). The Oasis is the second of SBC’s microbrewery-cum-restaurant efforts. Unlike its original flagship in Town & Country Village, which is a typical microbrew-like establishment, the Oasis combines an upscale “gourmet menu” with a vague southwestern tilt, Egyptian décor in the dining room, and a bar that is modeled after “the tomb of a 4th Dynasty royal Brewmaster (2613—2494 BC).”

Is it just me, or does anyone else have trouble with this unlikely combination? Can you honestly picture Yul Brynner and his minions in full Egyptian regalia, guzzling beer? “Getouttahere, Moses. I gotta go meet Cleopatra at the Oasis for a pint … ”

Actually, according to Oasis’ educational message on the back of its menu, Egyptians were brewing beer some 5,000 years ago. Legend has it that the angry Egyptian goddess Hathor was “sent down to Earth by her father, the mightiest god Ra, to war with the Egyptians. The offering of beer mellowed Hathor and pleased her. In gratitude, the Egyptians made her the goddess of fertility, beer and merriment.” (Sounds like getting knocked up with beer goggles, if you ask me.)

Oasis doesn’t skimp on the Egyptian theme in its décor or architecture. There are triangles, Egyptian people-figures, moons, and stars everywhere. The center of the ceiling displays a faux constellation of the Egyptian god Osiris. And the menu let us know that the dining room murals were copies of famous Egyptian scenes as well.

While I was trying to digest the unmistakably Egyptian décor, I was given an unmistakably American menu. So far as I could tell, the only dishes in the vicinity of Egypt were the grilled Moroccan chicken pasta and the Mediterranean shrimp pasta. Otherwise, it was pizza, salads and higher-end items like filet mignon, scallops in lobster sauce, and tequila-marinated rib eye steak. The occasional enchilada, the grilled southwestern skirt steak, and the tostada seemed to give the menu a hint of southwestern flare.

Against my better judgment, we ordered high-end: the honey pecan salmon, which our waitress told us was excellent, and The Oasis’ Drunken Pig Tostada, which the restaurant described as its “signature salad.” We also ordered blue fries, an extra-pale ale and the Pharaoh’s Liquid Gold, a medium-bitter ale.

The blue-cheese chili-oil sauce—slight heat mixed with blue cheesy tang—on hot fries was great. The warm pumpernickel and wheat rolls, baked fresh, were delicious, as was the beer. I would have been happy had we stopped there. But what came next was a big disappointment.

My notes on The Pig are as follows: “Tostada shell: absolutely cold. Tastes like made several hours ago. Where is the pepperjack cheese? Can neither see nor taste. Guac like store bought guac dip; no avocado chunks. Pig, very salty, as warned. Buttermilk dressing average. Roasted peanuts—why? Salad way too small.”

The honey pecan salmon reportedly did no better: “Salmon, somewhat overcooked. Garlic mashed potatoes, thin. Carrot and zucchini—not bad, not overcooked. Miracle! Honey Dijon sauce—why cheesecake flavor?” I kid you not, the sauce had an undercurrent of a cream cheese, or cheesecake-like flavor. Perhaps it was the Frangelico liqueur in the sauce? I had to give them points for creativity and bravery, but this judge took off just as many points for the weird outcome.

The simple brewpub fare I’ve tasted at both of SBC’s restaurants—the chicken wings, the blue fries and sandwiches—these are quite good. And they’ve been much more satisfying than the Dedalian fare above. Yes, SBC, there is such a thing as soaring too high. If you want us to “come for the beer, stay for the food,” as you suggest, keep it simple and less otherworldly. Otherwise, we’ll have to come for the beer, and just keep drinking.