Reviewing Moroccan restaurants is a real challenge. Everyone knows know that the menu is going to consist of the usual starters, followed by a choice of tajines and cous cous, with pastries for pudding. Not much mileage there for the poor scribe. And everyone knows that the interior is going to be in the dark and cheaply-realised souk-style that’s been popular for years. Most people would also guess that the setting won’t be smart, but will have a certain charm. Bills won’t break the bank, so the place will suit parties and the more economical sort of romance. Well, reader, so far as this new Soho townhouse-restaurant is concerned, you’re spot-on.
Perhaps there might be some outrageous incident to liven up our account? Well, service was initially a bit unwelcoming, but that was probably a language difficulty which will no doubt pass after a few more weeks’ acclimatisation. Once the head man had taken charge, everything flowed smoothly, if at an authentically leisurely pace. And the food? Was just as you would expect. The meat was generous but the cous cous was a bit on the gritty side – and in a portion that might have seemed a bit mean in Morocco – but that was the closest the meal came to incident. For pudding there was a sort of chocolate/nougat thing as well as the inevitable pastries. Pretty good too, in a sickly sort of way.
If this place does have a point of difference from most Moroccans – they do tend to be rather hidden-away – it is its prime location, just off ‘happening’ Old Compton Street. As that street is arguably London’s closest spiritual equivalent to the Jemma el Fna – the great Marrakesh square which is ‘the meeting point of North Africa’ – the setting seems oddly appropriate.
