Exotic restaurant's appeal goes beyond food

By Anna Baldasty

Forget about sitting up to the table, forget about using a fork and forget about not wanting to share your food. To fit in at Menara Moroccan Restaurant, you must check your Western table manners at the door.

Here dinner guests lounge on bean bag leather cushions surrounding golden table tops that rise no more than two feet from the floor.

The sound of a gurgling fountain at the entrance follows patrons as they make their way through the bar to the main dining area.

Intricately decorated tiles line the walls of a large dining room which opens up on two sides to smaller, tent-like cubbies for more intimate dining.

The horseshoe arches and wooden ceilings are a somewhat cheesy imitation of traditional Islamic architecture, and the wall murals of camels and beautiful women fetching water steal away much of the authenticity. Still, colorful, low-hanging lights create an atmosphere of secrecy and intrigue.

At least for an English major like myself, the feeling is as if one has just jumped into the pages of "One Thousand and One Arabian Nights," that famous collection of tales narrated by the wife of a sultan who, condemned to death, held off her sentence by spinning stories of magic, transformation, heroes and journeys.

Or, if you prefer a recent version, imagine suddenly awaking inside the world of Disney's "Aladdin."

The ceremony that accompanies the meal likewise mimics the elaborate rituals of Arabic royal courts. At the beginning and end of dinner, a waiter wearing a fez presents a silver washing basin and lets warm water fall from a pitcher over the guests' outstretched hands.

Since all food is meant to be shared and eaten exclusively with fingers, the hand-washing ritual is more than just for show. Even chicken and lamb are served in one large dish, and dinner guests must dig in, pulling pieces of tender meat from the bone.

Moroccan food combines the sweet flavors of dates and nuts with savory meats, potatoes and couscous, a type of wheat grain steamed and served as a side dish. My favorite plate was a Moroccan salad made of finely chopped eggplant, tomatoes, carrots and cucumbers.

However, the highlight of Menara is not just the food, but the entertainment.

Every night at around eight, belly dancing begins. A woman wearing a sparkly, flowing skirt and bejeweled bra swayed and gyrated in cadence to upbeat Moroccan pop music.

The height of her routine came when she placed a scimitar on her head and balanced it through the complex moves of her dance -- at one point even while crawling on the floor.

The guests went wild when she began grabbing men from the audience and encouraging them to dance with her. The sight of middle aged, loafer-wearing business men learning how to shimmy proved quite the crowd-pleaser.

Then again, the crowd, in high spirits after a few too many Moroccan Magic concoctions of orange juice, pineapple juice and rum, was easy to please.

This belly dancer was replaced by a male-female duo considerably less adept as artists, yet nonetheless experts at engaging the crowd of diners.

I was beckoned toward the center and shown the hip-sway by the male belly dancer dressed like a genie newly released from Aladdin's lamp.

Despite his energy and charm, I thought another Moroccan Magic might have been a more effective teacher, for only magic could compensate for my lack of coordination.

The meal ended with sweet mint tea, a true Moroccan specialty. And then came the not-so-sweet part of the evening: the check.

At about $26 a person, perhaps the Moroccan dinner loses some of its exotic appeal. But then again, where else can you learn how hard it is to belly dance after a five-course meal?

Contact Anna Baldasty at (408) 551-1918 or abaldasty@scu.edu.