**I Ate at EVERY Michelin-Starred Restaurant in Dubai in 43 Hours (Here’s Who’s FAKING Their Crown)**

**Listen Closely, Peasants. This Isn’t a Food Review. It’s a War Report.**

Dubai. A city where sand turns to gold and losers turn into influencers. I just spent 43 hours and enough cash to bankrupt a small country DEVOURING every Michelin-starred restaurant this desert mirage calls “luxury.” 17 courses. 17 battles. And let me tell you—half these places are as fraudulent as a “self-made” TikTok millionaire. Buckle up. We’re going course-by-course, and I’m exposing EVERY lie.

—

### **AL MUNTAHA**
**“The View Doesn’t Pay the Bills, Sweetheart.”**
Sky-high? Sure. The Burj Al Arab’s 27th floor? Breathtaking. The food? A $400 tuna tartare that tasted like regret and yacht fuel. Pro tip: If your “signature dish” is carried by the *elevator*, not the chef, you’re a glorified postcard. **Verdict:** Tourist trap with a side of sea breeze.

—

### **STAY BY YANNICK ALLÉNO**
**“Finally, Someone Who Gets It.”**
Yannick doesn’t cook. He *calculates*. French precision meets Arabian spice. Duck foie gras with date syrup? A masterpiece. The sommelier tried to upsell me a $10k bottle. I drank water. Why? Because winners don’t follow scripts. **Verdict:** A lion among sheep.

—

### **ARMANI RISTORANTE**
**“Style Over Substance? Always.”**
Armani’s name on the door. Armani’s ego on the plate. Black cod in a “smoked dome”? More like a $300 magic trick. The real flavor? The Dubai Fountain view. Save your cash, rent a jet ski, and eat a shawarma. **Verdict:** Fashion Week on a fork.

—

### **DINNER BY HESTON**
**“Molecular Gastronomy? More Like Molecular Gimmicks.”**
Heston Blumenthal’s “Meat Fruit”? A mandarin-shaped chicken liver parfait. Cute. Tasted like a science project. Meanwhile, the “Tipsy Cake” dessert? A boozy brioche that slapped harder than my last digital real estate opponent. **Verdict:** Half genius, half clown show.

—

### **ORFALI BROS**
**“The Underdogs Who Stole the Crown.”**
Three brothers. Zero Michelin experience. 100% fire. Their “No Menu” tasting? A Middle Eastern symphony. The kubba with truffle? I’d fight a man for it. **Verdict:** Hungry wolves in a city of lazy kings.

—

### **ROW ON 45**
**Sushi So Exclusive, Even the Rice Has Trust Issues.**
A 45-seat omakase run by a chef who’s part samurai, part mad scientist. Bluefin otoro melted like my last relationship. But $600 for 18 bites? Only if the rice is sprinkled with diamond dust. **Verdict:** Elite, but act broke to afford it.

—

### **HŌSEKI**
**“9 Seats. 0 Mistakes.”**
A sushi counter hidden in the Bulgari Hotel. No menu. No English. Just raw fish and dominance. The chef looked into my soul and served me sea urchin that tasted like victory. **Verdict:** If silence could cook.

—

### **SMOKED ROOM**
**“For People Who Think BBQ Is a Personality.”**
“Artisanal smoke.” “Heritage cuts.” Translation: Overpriced brisket. The only thing smokier? The desperation of the guy next to me flexing his Rolex. **Verdict:** Texas called. They want their mediocrity back.

—

### **11 WOODFIRE**
**“Fire. Meat. Repeat.”**
A Michelin star for… grilled cabbage? I’ll admit—the lamb chops made me question my life choices. But charging $200 for a campfire? **Verdict:** Caveman cuisine with a gold card.

—

### **LA DAME DE PIC**
**“French Flair, Dubai Prices, Zero Soul.”**
Anne-Sophie Pic’s “Berlingots”? Pasta pockets filled with cheese. Tasted like a rich kid’s mac ‘n’ cheese. The sommelier cried when I ordered Diet Coke. **Verdict:** Parisian pretension, zero passion.

—

### **MOONRISE**
**“The Only Thing Rising Here? My Blood Pressure.”**
A “secret” rooftop spot serving “avant-garde” sushi. The “moon” roll had edible gold. So does my toilet paper in Europe. **Verdict:** Edible Instagram filters.

—

### **OSSIANO**
**“Underwater? More Like Underwhelming.”**
Dining with sharks sounds cool. Until you’re paying $450 for lobster that’s been upstaged by a fish tank. **Verdict:** SeaWorld with a tasting menu.

—

### **HAKKASAN**
**“Chinese Food for People Who Hate Flavor.”**
Black truffle duck? Tasted like a missed opportunity. The only spice? The bill. **Verdict:** Panda Express in a tuxedo.

—

### **AVATĀRA**
**“Vegetarian? Don’t Care. Still Fire.”**
A meatless Michelin star. The jackfruit biryani? A flavor bomb. Even my steak-loving ego surrendered. **Verdict:** Plants with a body count.

—

### **IL RISTORANTE NIKO ROMITO**
**“Pasta So Good, It Should Be Illegal.”**
Niko’s cacio e pepe? A $150 dish that’s worth every cent. Simple. Perfect. Unapologetic. **Verdict:** God-tier carbs.

—

### **TRÈSIND STUDIO**
**“India Meets Mars.”**
A 20-course journey through spice galaxies. The “chaat” course? A supernova in my mouth. **Verdict:** If Einstein cooked curry.

—

### **TASCA BY JOSÉ AVILLEZ**
**“Portuguese Soul, Dubai Wallet.”**
Octopus carpaccio? Sublime. The $180 salt cod? Criminal. **Verdict:** Paying for the chef’s ego, not the food.

—

### **MY HONEST OPINION**
**“The Truth About Dubai’s Michelin Scene (You’re Being Played).”**
Let’s cut the caviar crap. Dubai’s dining scene is a casino. The house always wins. You’re paying for illusions: gold leaf, truffle shavings, and insta-bait views. But the REAL winners? The chefs who ignore the circus. **Trèsind Studio. Hōseki. Orfali Bros.** They’re not cooking for stars. They’re cooking for legacy.

The rest? Sheep in wolf’s clothing. Charging $1k for a meal that’s 10% flavor, 90% flex. You want to eat like a king? Stop chasing shiny things. Chase *craft*.

**Final Warning:** If you’re dropping a paycheck on “deconstructed” dishes, you’re not a foodie. You’re a sucker. Dubai’s real feast isn’t on the menu—it’s in the grind. Stay ruthless.

**PS**: If you can’t afford this lifestyle, stop crying. Get rich. Get a private chef. Or get used to being a NPC. 💸
*(Drops mic. Orders a burger.)*

BECOME A VIP MEMBER

SLAYLEBRITY COIN

GET SLAYLEBRITY UPDATES

JOIN SLAY VIP LINGERIE CLUB

BUY SLAY MERCH

UNMASK A SLAYLEBRITY

ADVERTISE WITH US

BECOME A PARTNER