Belly of the Feast

Casablanca offers big meals and bigger spectacle

by Elisa Ludwig

Nestled in a Haverford Avenue strip mall, Casablanca is a North African fantasyland, replete with beaded curtains, embroidered pillows, engraved brass tables, hanging lanterns and, as a companion noted, a casino-style lack of windows that will have you losing track of time and place — even if you don't drink the white Zinfandel.

For $27, you get a seven-course meal that begins with a sprinkling of rosewater over your hands. (You'll be eating with them unless you request utensils.) The first course is a platter of salads that includes roasted eggplant; crisp cucumber, pepper and tomato; and cool carrot discs enlivened with orange juice. On the side is a plate of creamy hummus. You scoop these up with slightly stale pita bread distributed by a server with a seemingly bottomless basket.

Next is b'stilla, a traditional pastry of phyllo dough, chicken and scrambled egg, cemented with layers of cinnamon and finely chopped almonds. The whole thing is topped with a dusting of powdered sugar and cinnamon stenciled in the shape of a camel, palm tree and, more impressively, the lettering of the restaurant's name. Meat courses feature a choice of chicken or rabbit stewed to total meltingness in a choice of different sauces (lemon and olive is pure Casbah comfort); then kabobs that merit another choice. We had the lamb, which was rubbed in cumin and grilled but a bit overdone. This is followed by moist couscous steamed with raisins, squash, chickpeas and bits of chicken. Finally, there's fruit, sticky wedges of baklava and glasses of sweet mint tea.

Between courses, a spangled belly dancer will appear, contorting her midriff, snapping finger cymbals and dutifully trying to make eye contact so as to persuade you to get up and dance with her. (If you've had enough wine, perhaps you will.) Later, she may come back for another round or two, maybe even balancing a double-edged sword on her head.

But on our visit the real spectacle was at the end of the night when Omar, the male belly dancer, showed up. We could hear him coming with pronounced stomping and clanging. He burst into the room, mustachioed and turbaned and generally commanding all attention just as we were starting to droop from too much eating. Apparently, this was a special treat: Omar appears only on the last weekend of the month. Mark your calendar.

(e_ludwig@citypaper.net)

Casablanca

7557 Haverford Ave., 215-878-1900, casablancarestaurants.com

Hours: Daily, 5-11 p.m.

Reservations recommended.