As it turns out, one chicken satay and one fish roll don't equal dinner, so I opened the hotel restaurant menu and tried to find something that looked worthwhile. While the prices reflected otherwise, I couldn't find anything to top a Denny's menu, so I ventured out to Marrakesh for a little B'Stilla Royale.
Shown here in a slightly rumpled condition, the B'Stilla Royale is one of those dishes you taste once and never forget. It is simply amazing; philo dough filled with minced chicken and scrambled eggs, and dusted with powdered sugar and cinnamon. C'mon, you can't tell me you've never enjoyed it when the maple syrup drizzles over into your eggs and sausage - yes, that kind of good. It is spectacular, intended to be eaten only with your hands, and very messy. Considering I got it to go, I was not obliged to eat it with my hands, but given the consistency, I didn't fare too well with cutlery, and ultimately caved in to the intended method of eating it.
Honey, I think I am officially a food snob. I bemoan the fact that I have to go back to a state without these delightfully diverse eateries, but rather must subsist on poor substitutions for foreign food. Well, perhaps there is merit in not being so close to such top quality cuisine: I remain thin.
My venturings this evening only brought on a couple of a lustful looks. I swear, you'd think I am running around in mini skirts and tank tops instead of jeans, a rain jacket, and funny looking shoes! One fellow winked at me so many times that I almost asked if he had something in his eye. Another fellow saw me crossing the street and, after making a sound that made me feel like a meal, said, "NNNice! How are YOU doing this evening?" I politely said, "Fine, thank you," and then proceeded to walk in a circle to make sure I didn't bring home any friendly neighborhood men with me before returning to the hotel.
modesty is the new sexy! ;)
ReplyDeleteplus, you don't have a 220 pound muscle walking with you that would stomp them into the ground for such advances!