Dining is Arab-style. Instead of traditional tables and chairs, a round hammered-brass table is set at padded banquettes brightened with colorful Moroccan pillows. Dining is with the thumb and middle finger of your right hand.
The seven-course, $18.95 meal begins with a ceremonial washing of hands (men first, in Moroccan tradition) in water poured from a brass ewer into a pierced-brass basin. Large cotton towels for drying become your napkin. A second washing occurs after the main courses, and a final sprinkle of rose water perfumes your hands as you leave.
Moroccan dishes are sweet, not spicy, their sensuous flavors and textures more likely to lull rather than inflame the senses. Dinner takes a good two hours, and with all the food, the plush seating and insistent bouzouki music, this is as close to sybaritic dining as you can come.
Dinner usually begins with textured Moroccan bread served from a cone- shaped wicker basket in traditional tagine shape, but the night I visited, good pita made by a North Jersey Syrian bakery was substituted.
The salad course brought a brightly colored plate with three chilled delights - eggplant flavored with cumin, my favorite chopped carrots sweetened with exotic spices, and a medley of cucumber, tomato and green peppers.
I suspected I was recognized when the waiter presented a complimentary platter of appetizers from the separate Middle Eastern menu - silken baba ghanoush (pureed eggplant), smooth hummus (mashed chick peas) and spritzy tabbouleh (chopped tomatoes, onions and parsley).
The first hot course is bstilla - the enormously popular, sweet phyllo ''pie" plump with chopped chicken (pigeon in Morocco) and almonds, bound with egg and dusted with powdered sugar and cinnamon artfully shaped like a palm tree.
