I’m a greedy person. It’s why I’m a short , fat, middle aged man, instead of just being a short, middle aged man. I’m rarely defeated by plates of food. Rarely - but occasionally I meet my match. We’d originally thought we’d have lunch at the Victoria & Albert Museum, where we’d spent the morning, but the cafe was like a rugby scrum. So, we wandered down the road to Maroush.
We both opted for the “lunchbox special” – six mezze starters, followed by a main course. Now, I’m happy to admit that the generosity of the starter plate put in front of each of us meant that one would have easily done us. Indeed, with a little more bread , it would have done us as a main course as well.
There was a decent houmous and a very decent moutabal – the latter silky and smoky as you’d always hope it was going to be, but rarely is. There was a fab tabbouleh – loads of parsley and bang-on for seasoning with a generous use of lemon. There were a couple of stuffed vine leaves , a couple of fatayer – one spinach, one lamb, both lovely. And a ball of something we couldn’t place, in a crisp crumb, but just tasted nicely savoury. These came with a couple of pittas. And, no , neither of us could finish our plates.
And then the meat arrived. You’re offered a choice of mixed kebab, mixed sharwama or the dish of the day. The latter was okra – something neither of us is ever in a rush to order. Both the kebab and sharwama come, unsurprisingly, in generous portions of both lamb and chicken. Good tasty meat, nicely cooked with a good char. And still more bread. And a fairly pokey chilli sauce. And a dollop of toum, which would have benefitted from more garlic.
Definitely a better lunch than the planned for cheese butty at the V&A.