'One cannot think well, love well, sleep well, if one has not dined well'
Eating like kings
It's the Opium War all over again
What are you looking at, R?
Here is Virginia Woolf speaking as a spoilt middle class of the Bloomsbury set; however, had she been to Pasha, her previous dining experiences would seem like a paler shade of grey. London is about multiculturalism and once in a while, about splurging inappropriately. One of HY's former colleague organised his leaving do at this Moroccan restaurant, and by the end of the night, I had filled my belly and emptied the wallet. It started like an endless supply of appetizers, and just as we thought there was no space left in our stomachs, a large bowl of couscous, saugages and lamb followed, and finally it was the plates of dessert. But food was not the only treat--melon and grape flavoured shisha were on the menu, and drop-dead gorgeous belly dancers make you feel like a Moroccan king. I, too, like to look at beauties.