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Orilla Restaurant, Dubai restaurant review. “A glamorous night out in Jumeirah Village Triangle, but with room to grow.”
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Orilla, Dubai restaurant review. “A glamourous night out in Jumeirah Village Triangle, but with room to grow.”
Uninvited Opinion. An opulent 27th-floor Mediterranean restaurant brings music and much-needed joie de vivre to Jumeirah Village Triangle, but not everything keeps pace.
One of Orilla's opulent dining rooms with views overlooking Jumeirah Village Triangle.
The Highs
The Lows
The Highs
The Lows
I knew nothing about Orilla until last November, when James Knight-Paccheco mentioned that chef Saradhi Dakara, formerly of The Maine, opened something clever in Jumeirah Village Triangle, a community that doesn’t have anything.
Courtney Brandt — friend, co-podcaster and a woman with enough subscribers to start a minor republic — immediately replied: “Oh, they don’t have anything.”
Cue riotous laughter.
Months later, I find myself in Orilla on the 27th floor of Hotel Local Dubai in a neighbourhood so short on dining destinations that Orilla’s mere existence feels like a civic gesture.
Orilla’s dining room looking onto a stunning bar in its reception.
Courtney Brandt — friend, co-podcaster and a woman with enough subscribers to start a minor republic — immediately replied: “Oh, they don’t have anything.”
Cue riotous laughter.
Months later, I find myself in Orilla on the 27th floor of Hotel Local Dubai in a neighbourhood so short on dining destinations that Orilla’s mere existence feels like a civic gesture.
Orilla’s dining room looking onto a stunning bar in its reception.
Orilla (“oh-re-ya”, meaning “shore” in Spanish) pitches itself as a meeting point of Mediterranean-Asian cultures and flavours, inspired by coastal towns and shaped by local produce.
That sort of blurb often feels focus-grouped into submission, but Orilla knows what it wants to be.
And, on Wednesday nights, it is ladies’ night. Think women in leather dresses, jeans and corset tops, halter necks and matching “Fendi” sets, and a team of office ladies dressed for the possibility of not going home when they said they would. Men make less effort, save for one gentleman sporting a sharply pointed chocolate sandal complete with a buckled back strap. That’s the spirit, sailor.
Inside, Orilla is resplendent in familiar tropical modernism: cosy booths, timber, wicker and velvet. Right above, there are statement chandeliers; in the corner, little lamps. Acres of monochrome hexagonal floor tiles, punchy colours abound and paisley. It is all very polished. Very current. It is what Canary Club should be, but it isn’t even close.
Orilla’s outdoor alfresco bar.
That sort of blurb often feels focus-grouped into submission, but Orilla knows what it wants to be.
And, on Wednesday nights, it is ladies’ night. Think women in leather dresses, jeans and corset tops, halter necks and matching “Fendi” sets, and a team of office ladies dressed for the possibility of not going home when they said they would. Men make less effort, save for one gentleman sporting a sharply pointed chocolate sandal complete with a buckled back strap. That’s the spirit, sailor.
Inside, Orilla is resplendent in familiar tropical modernism: cosy booths, timber, wicker and velvet. Right above, there are statement chandeliers; in the corner, little lamps. Acres of monochrome hexagonal floor tiles, punchy colours abound and paisley. It is all very polished. Very current. It is what Canary Club should be, but it isn’t even close.
Orilla’s outdoor alfresco bar.
In comes a complimentary board of olives (briny), a well of EVOO and some blushing radishes (both peppery), a dollop of taramasalata (shy), and a warm, crusty bread roll, so pert, round and bronzed, I’d pay 7.99 a month for its OnlyFans.
Nostalgic remixes of Sade and Beyoncé throb around this alfresco bar tucked in the back, with views over the neighbourhood (and a highway), conjuring the kind of midweek escape where another round becomes a poor decision. “Orilla’s Rituals” of generous weekly offers could lure residents into regulars. Good. Someone should.
And, frankly, JVT deserves that. A community on the thin edge of Dubai’s culinary wedge.
The 20-or-so-item menu is fairly tight without being a menu-by-committee. There is an artichoke and gossamer fennel salad, Calabrian prawns with crispy garlic, slow-cooked wagyu beef cheek with orzo and truffle butter, beef croquettes with kimchi and bone marrow and a section called “crusts” — better known as pizza, where I’m from.
In comes a complimentary board of olives (briny), a well of EVOO and some blushing radishes (both peppery), a dollop of taramasalata (shy), and a warm, crusty bread roll, so pert, round and bronzed, I’d pay 7.99 a month for its OnlyFans.
The black tomato salad is juicy and virtuous. The tomatoes are sweet, tickled with the sumac’s tartness. The parsley is grassy; the avocados are collapsingly soft, but the smoky chorizo competes unnecessarily.
Next, the robata-grilled octopus is smoky and tender. It’s a meaty tentacle, thick enough to give your back teeth purpose. Like the salad, one element, a sourdough espuma, reads superfluous, sounding more intriguing than it proves. This is a better home for that chorizo.
I look around while waiting for the mains. It is 10pm in a busy bar on a Wednesday in JVT. I even read that twice. A gaggle of women drink carefree from the 15 reasonably priced wines by the glass, laughing amid the uncertainty of a ceasefire extension. Orilla is still quieter than it should be when I walked through two palatial dining spaces into this cossetted bar.
Now, a 100-layer lasagne and Omugi Black Angus fillet steak glide past to another table. I enquired about the 48-hour lamb shoulder with caponata and tzatziki, but the service team signalled that some mains are more commitment than one person ought to make, which is why I am munching on butterflied sea bass painted with mojo verde and Isan nam jim.
Like the octopus, the sea bass is moist and shows skill, but also a penchant for saltiness and another herbaceous sauce. That is my fault for ordering two similar ones in a row, but then the orecchiette is also in salsa verde.
The service team also feel a bit green. One glass of wine requires three visits from three smiling people, in enough time for me to have ordered a second. In the wait for a dessert menu, I could have slipped into another dimension whilst a tall man with an earpiece and a photographer orbit my table.
As tempting as chocolate mousse studded with sea salt, a lemon mascarpone with caviar and a mandarin sorbet might be, my wife is landing at DXB shortly, so, just like that, I pay, admiring the large dining room and entrance bar on my way out, making small talk with a chatty hostess by the elevators as I take in the views.
Yes, probably. Orilla is not undone by its niggles, but Dubai has no shortage of vibey, Mediterranean-ish places with flattering lighting and a soundtrack. Great restaurants are not just about feeding people: they are about lifting them out of ordinary life for a couple of hours. The bar gets it. The music gets it. JVT needs it. Orilla’s rise from Good to Great is just a few details and some attentive eyes away.
JVT and JVC residents. Groups, fun date nights and celebrations.
Number of visits: 1.
Dishes ordered (in AED): Tomato salad (50); robata-grilled octopus (110); whole sea bass (225).
Licensed? Yes.
Drinks: One glass of white wine (60); one bottle of still water (38).
Total spend: AED 490.61, ex tip.
Orilla, Hotel Local Dubai, Jumeirah Village Triangle, Autograph Collection, Street D61, District 7, Al Barsha South Fifth, Jumeirah Village Triangle, Dubai, United Arab Emirates. Call +971 4 575 2986 or Visit Orilla’s Instagram.
Written by Liam Collens // Read more articles here. Liam is a restaurant critic, food and travel writer based in the Middle East. He co-authored The Rise of Indian Food: Recipes Reimagined by Trésind Studio, out 6 May from Phaidon Press. You can find Liam on Substack, Threads, Instagram, BlueSky or Facebook.
And, frankly, JVT deserves that. A community on the thin edge of Dubai’s culinary wedge.
The 20-or-so-item menu is fairly tight without being a menu-by-committee. There is an artichoke and gossamer fennel salad, Calabrian prawns with crispy garlic, slow-cooked wagyu beef cheek with orzo and truffle butter, beef croquettes with kimchi and bone marrow and a section called “crusts” — better known as pizza, where I’m from.
In comes a complimentary board of olives (briny), a well of EVOO and some blushing radishes (both peppery), a dollop of taramasalata (shy), and a warm, crusty bread roll, so pert, round and bronzed, I’d pay 7.99 a month for its OnlyFans.
The black tomato salad is juicy and virtuous. The tomatoes are sweet, tickled with the sumac’s tartness. The parsley is grassy; the avocados are collapsingly soft, but the smoky chorizo competes unnecessarily.
Next, the robata-grilled octopus is smoky and tender. It’s a meaty tentacle, thick enough to give your back teeth purpose. Like the salad, one element, a sourdough espuma, reads superfluous, sounding more intriguing than it proves. This is a better home for that chorizo.
I look around while waiting for the mains. It is 10pm in a busy bar on a Wednesday in JVT. I even read that twice. A gaggle of women drink carefree from the 15 reasonably priced wines by the glass, laughing amid the uncertainty of a ceasefire extension. Orilla is still quieter than it should be when I walked through two palatial dining spaces into this cossetted bar.
Now, a 100-layer lasagne and Omugi Black Angus fillet steak glide past to another table. I enquired about the 48-hour lamb shoulder with caponata and tzatziki, but the service team signalled that some mains are more commitment than one person ought to make, which is why I am munching on butterflied sea bass painted with mojo verde and Isan nam jim.
Like the octopus, the sea bass is moist and shows skill, but also a penchant for saltiness and another herbaceous sauce. That is my fault for ordering two similar ones in a row, but then the orecchiette is also in salsa verde.
The service team also feel a bit green. One glass of wine requires three visits from three smiling people, in enough time for me to have ordered a second. In the wait for a dessert menu, I could have slipped into another dimension whilst a tall man with an earpiece and a photographer orbit my table.
As tempting as chocolate mousse studded with sea salt, a lemon mascarpone with caviar and a mandarin sorbet might be, my wife is landing at DXB shortly, so, just like that, I pay, admiring the large dining room and entrance bar on my way out, making small talk with a chatty hostess by the elevators as I take in the views.
Orilla, Would I Go Back?
Yes, probably. Orilla is not undone by its niggles, but Dubai has no shortage of vibey, Mediterranean-ish places with flattering lighting and a soundtrack. Great restaurants are not just about feeding people: they are about lifting them out of ordinary life for a couple of hours. The bar gets it. The music gets it. JVT needs it. Orilla’s rise from Good to Great is just a few details and some attentive eyes away.
Orilla, Who Should Go?
JVT and JVC residents. Groups, fun date nights and celebrations.
Review information
Number of visits: 1.
Dishes ordered (in AED): Tomato salad (50); robata-grilled octopus (110); whole sea bass (225).
Licensed? Yes.
Drinks: One glass of white wine (60); one bottle of still water (38).
Total spend: AED 490.61, ex tip.
Orilla, Hotel Local Dubai, Jumeirah Village Triangle, Autograph Collection, Street D61, District 7, Al Barsha South Fifth, Jumeirah Village Triangle, Dubai, United Arab Emirates. Call +971 4 575 2986 or Visit Orilla’s Instagram.
Written by Liam Collens // Read more articles here. Liam is a restaurant critic, food and travel writer based in the Middle East. He co-authored The Rise of Indian Food: Recipes Reimagined by Trésind Studio, out 6 May from Phaidon Press. You can find Liam on Substack, Threads, Instagram, BlueSky or Facebook.
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