A Little Sex with My Moroccan (Food)? Yes, Please!

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I am sad to say that most restaurants nowadays have been unable to seduce my palate. Have I become my biggest nightmare? And have I, to be totally frank, turned into someone that does not find love and pleasure in anything anymore? The UGs have always said that context and memory play a powerful role in how a dining experience is perceived. But it seems, that no matter how unimportant price may be at the dining time, I always find myself rationalizing the cost to pleasure ratio in my head. Uncouth! Have I really become so cynical? Oh, I remember what it was to be a blithe and carefree employed citizen…Oh the days…Have the fireworks given way recently? Fortunately, Marrakesh livened my senses once again.

After an afternoon of much deserved slumber, I opted to get my boring self up and head out for dinner. My friend Brian and I had been planning to check out Dine LA week so we headed to Marrakesh in Studio City. Upon entering the elaborately decorated place, I noticed that there wasn’t only one dining area, but in fact, there were three. We sat down and were educated on the evening’s offerings. The place doesn’t bore its guests with a menu, but instead takes a chance on the city’s local produce and meat offerings and the whim a chef in charge. Of the four choices for us that evening, we went with the chicken and the lamb. The lamb was to be served with couscous and the chicken was to be paired with an assortment of fresh vegetables. At Marrakesh every entree comes with a robust veggie salad, lentil soup, Moroccan Chicken Almond Pastilla pie, and baklava. The pie, entree, and baklava were of most interest to me.

Marrakesh,

Marrakesh, Studio City

The meal started of beautifully. We sat in a booth that was very low to the ground and upon ordering a young Moroccan waiter came up to us with a pot of lukewarm water and a bowl. We quickly washed and dried our hands. Finally the meal process was now officially ready to begin.

Now I hate to sound like a total dip s@!t and bring it all back to sex, but the belly dancers were phenomenal. A place where I can order sex with my Moroccan is a pal’o mine. Marrakesh was a perfect confluence of food, sex, smell, music, taste, and good company. Two enthusiastic thumbs up for Marrakesh, if I had more extremities to raise they would be up as well.

Josie Mora, Uncouth Gourmands, UG, Marrakesh

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1 Comment

  1. got you two little monsters figured out!!!
    Me and my first wife cut a swath through the 70s and early 80s sex parties in los angeles and hollywood. private clubs, holmby hills estates, mulholland drive oceanview homes and places like Plato’s West were our hangouts 5 or six nights a week. not a nubile schoolgirl or starlet was left unmolested. amazingly, we never got a dose of anything or brought home anything we didn’t want to play with. we basically devoured girls at an incredible rate. we called it “Sport Fucking”.
    YOU TWO are “Sport Eating” your way through southern california. very orally fixated, yes; but much safer, especially today. i encourage you to try everything you can, as you will never pass this way again. always check the utensils for cleanliness and carry epecac, just in case.


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