Akh ya mama, “I don’t have to tell you things are bad. We know things are bad — worse than bad. They’re crazy. It’s like everything everywhere is going crazy, so we don’t go out anymore. We sit in the house, and slowly the world we are living in is getting smaller, and all we say is: ‘Please, at least leave us alone in our living rooms. Let me have my toaster and my TV and I won’t say anything. Just leave us alone.’ Well, I’m not gonna leave you alone. I want you to get MAD! I don’t want you to protest. I don’t want you to riot — All I know is that first you’ve got to get mad. So, I want you to get up now. I want all of you to get up out of your chairs. I want you to get up right now and go to the window. Open it, and stick your head out, and yell: I’M AS MAD AS HELL, AND I’M NOT GONNA TAKE THIS ANYMORE!“
Well I for one did get up and stormed my way into Coya for a dinner date. A very unfitting consumerist rendezvous following that angry excerpt from “Network”, but that’s what we do here ya tante… we rant, we eat and we rant about what we eat. Willi ma 3ajabo ma 7ada darabo 3a 2eedo. The web is wide wil beb bifawwit jamal.
We arrived right on time for our reservation, but our table wasn’t ready. After 20 minutes of waiting at the bar (which was really just standing in the bar area as the actual bar was crowded), we stormed back to the front desk to deliver a speech similar to how we started this review. But alas there was a table ready, one that came with a dose of tirbee7 jmeeleh, as they decided to seat us in the private members area (because the place was overbooked, mish kirmel ki7l 3yoonna). The full height doors opened to a lounge packed with suited businessmen. There was a private bar, a DJ and a violinist. While the crowd was reminiscent of “Eyes Wide Shut”, I kept my eyes open and focused on my company and the dinner menu. We shared a total of seven plates and devoured all of them without getting too bloated, as they’re all fairly small. We kicked things off with some Edamame and Salmon Tacos. The three little tacos are so darn cute and you can finish them off with a couple of bites each. Then we got the ceviche. We chose the Salmon Nikkei, which was made of raw salmon swimming in celery juice, ginger and wasabi tobiko. For our lack of expertise in Peruvian cuisine, we gazed at those empty bowls beside our plates not knowing what they were meant for, and we ate the ceviche in our regular plates. And all was just fine. Then came the Ensalada de Maiz, and I’ll buy you a drink if you can tell the difference between it and sweet corn out of the can. For mains we got a pot of Arroz Nikkei Chilean sea bass and a Salmon fillet. Both were fantastic. The pot tasted like a spicy Indian take on a confused Paella/Risotto dish. The salmon was rich in flavor with a side of golden beetroot and cucumber. For dessert, we shared a Sundae de Maiz which tasted as funky as it looked with sweet corn ice cream and popcorn. It probably wasn’t the best choice of dessert but we kept seeing orders of it going around, so we wanted to know what the fuss was about.
The place is fun and the best drink to go with your meal is the Peruvian Pisco Sour, so skip the wine. The food is simple and tasty and the bill was surprisingly not outrageous.
See you mother fuckers. Until then I leave you with this: