Ganache - the Lebanese house of fear and cakes

was eyeing this cafe for a long time as it lies on my Asian groceries route on Brewer Street in Soho. The tantalising display of honey-drenched Middle Eastern sweets and the promise of a cup of Lebanese coffee - what else a caffeine-addicted sweet-tooth like me needs? Finally I have found a good company to go, my Italian friend Monica. This fine lady is running a language training company in London and, a highly sophisticated Italian urbanite that she is, is probably the best company for coffee and cake sampling.

There are two tables outside on the sidewalk but we went inside to escape the noise of the passing cars that would have completely drowned the conversation. The curly and burly Lebanese proprietor's thin veneer of friendliness barely seemed to contain a deep annoyance with life. Unfortunately for us, we did inadvertently burst that veneer by asking the Arab names for the sweets that we ordered. Three times. Finally,with exasperated sighs, he caved in and, very reluctantly, barked out quick explanations.

As it was late in the afternoon we had to go for some decaf , no time for proper coffee this time. The cold Turkish pomegranate tea turned out to be a rather ghastly canned instant variety with loads of sugar at the bottom of the glass. My African Temptation tea appeared rooibos with masala-esque spices, Durban-inspired, if I had to put my finger on it. Fir that price, I'd expect a more imaginative concoction than a mere teabag in hot water but never mind that!

The rich, sweet cakes were, as it goes, made of filo dough filled with various crushed nuts and soaked in generous quanitities of honey or, perhaps, treacle, we did not dare to ask. Handsome chunks, each enough for two, really, they definitely did not deserve to be served on stirofoam trays. I hate physical violence so I decided to go local and swallow my objections.

Truth be told, Middle Eastern sweets do not seem to be the main business for Ganache. I should have guessed it by the name (ganache is a French chocolate bonbon filling), these people appear to make more money from luxury chocolate sales.

After a long pleasant chat we headed out. As we were leaving, the curly ogre was busy angrily telling off a delivery boy who happened to deliver some boxes inside the shop instead of leaving them on the sidewalk. As we walked away, the sound of his voice faded into the street hubbub. Hopefully, I won't have to hear it again.

Pro's: Handy location. Nice sweets.
Con's: Scary service. Rather pricey. Stirofoam trays in lieu of crockery.
In a nutshell: The pro's don't outweigh the con's.