Mo Bistro Becomes a Salon of Mischief & Memory at Cairo Food Week

At District 5’s Mo Bistro, the tables felt less like a restaurant and more like a gathering of friends who hadn’t seen each other in years. Cairo Food Week had set the stage, but it was Chef Hadrien Villedieu—French-born, Dubai-based, equal parts alchemist and showman—who turned it into theatre.

Known for his “coolabs” and mischievous reinventions at Chez Wam Dubai, Villedieu arrived in Cairo with sleeves rolled and philosophy intact: food is meant to surprise, seduce, and sometimes even tease. He found his foil in Chef Amr Salah, Mo Bistro’s quiet architect and one of Cairo’s most seasoned chefs, whose career spans Cairo’s grand hotels. Together, they built a menu that flickered between French discipline and Egyptian familiarity, refracted through the playful lens that only Hadrien could bring.

The curtain rose with small gestures: a tart tomato gazpacho sharpened with passionfruit, a flicker of sweetness against the acidity. Then came the crispy sushi rice crowned with bluefin tuna and oscietre caviar—a collision of decadence and comfort—followed by tartare de boeuf where shaved truffle melted into sesame kimchi, the hush before the mischief began. A croissant foie gras layered with veal bacon jam and pickled pear pushed indulgence into irony, a dish that drew both laughter and reverence in equal measure.

By the time the mains arrived, the room was already loosening, tables closing in, voices rising. Short rib braised with cumin and pomegranate molasses came paired with freekeh risotto, a love letter to Egypt reframed in French technique. Duck ravioli swam in orange-carrot cream, its brightness a counterpoint to the lamb tenderloin tangled with smoked okra, earthy and bold. A seabass, meanwhile, surfaced in saffron butter and Egyptian dukkah, reminding the room that Cairo, too, has a sea to draw from. Each plate arrived like another act, the rhythm steady, the energy mounting.

Dessert split itself into playful finales. A floating island of meringue bobbed in salted caramel with a crunch of caramelized popcorn—a wink from the chef.

But to talk only of plates would be to miss the electricity of the room: a salon disguised as a bistro with music drifting, glasses clinking, mocktails pairing every bite with unexpected brightness. The staff moved with the ease of co-conspirators. Guests leaned into their plates, then into each other, laughter spilling faster than courses.

For two nights, Mo Bistro was a stage where a French provocateur and an Egyptian mainstay met halfway, somewhere between Paris and Cairo, between Chez Wam’s “at mine” ethos and Mo Bistro’s sense of family, to create a dinner that was as refined as it was unruly.

A reminder that, in Cairo of all places, a city that thrives on contrast, fine dining doesn’t need stiff collars. It just needs the right company, a touch of mischief, and two chefs willing to tell stories through smoke, salt, and surprise.