Restaurants & Bars


Le Souk (aka Le Sucks!)


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Restaurants & Bars

Le Souk (aka Le Sucks!)

Jimmy Z. | Feb 26, 2001 01:46 PM

Two words: don't bother (or how 'bout 'spare yourself')

Le Souk is the new moroccan/tunisian on Ave B., just down the street from Max. First off, it has the worst and most puzzling entrance I have ever seen - - a glass door (behind which lies a draped curtain) that has a hand-scrawled paper sign attached to it that reads "this side please" with an arrow pointing to the right. But the door knob is on the left. Hmmm. Ok, I thought there must be a side entrance. Alas, there was no other door in sight, except that of the residential building to which the restaurant was nestled against. Back to the main door, then. Open it up and walk in to a PACKED tiny restaurant with tables crammed right up against the entrance. Turns out the sign was steering customers to enter through the right side of the curtain b/c there is a foot more room than if they enter through the left side! Meanwhile, people waiting for tables were lined up almost single file THROUGH the entire restaurant which, in a place of that size, is also the lone server's lane. The metal chairs were extraordinarily ramshackle and distressingly uncomfortable despite the thin cushion for your rump. Service was disorganized, seating cramped, volume loud, food bad. Mezze plate of hummus, baba, etc. was skimpy on portions which, imo, is inexcusable for a dish of that kind in such a cheapo setting! Mussels with chickpeas were funky (one out every three, at least), almost as fishy as the small piece of tuna served as an app with moroccan trimmings. Blecch. "Egyptian-Grilled Pastrami" on a bed of greens with goat cheese was an adventurous, if not altogether stupid choice and we paid for it dearly. Tasted like overcooked Sizzlelean bacon. Chicken Tagine was a bone-in breast that was big on the bone, slight on the meat. Cocktail order was forgotten. So was the change of my $40-something dollar check after I handed over 3 twenties. When I informed the stressed-to-the-max owner that our change hadn't arrived, he asked me how much the check was for rather than alerting the waitress who had vanished in the swarm of waiting-in-vain hipsters! I couldn't remember if it was $46 or $48, so I took a guess with $48. He comes back a second later and drops $12 on the table and scampers off. By the way, he broke the change down to a $10 dollar bill and two singles. Genius.

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