Last week we missed couscous Friday. We were on a train, without a dining car, and if you miss lunch, you missed the chance for couscous for the week.
Yesterday as we left the apartment for lunch, a delivery guy was coming in with a brown paper bag. He smiled at us, and said "couscous". One of the neighbors was getting couscous without having to go out.
One of the nice things about living downtown in a big city is the chance to have favorite restaurants. One of ours is just down the street, and has food from a variety of cultures. So far we have stuck with west Africa, but they also have Indian (south Asia) and Mexican for a very eclectic mix.
One of our neighborhood restaurants.
Like many restaurants, a sign outside announces couscous Friday lunch.
I was intrigued by the Senegalais option, which is in the foreground, and has anchored by a quarter chicken, which was hard to see initially under the dark sauce. Mary decided not to mess with a good deal, and had the Moroccan option again, seen in the background. I had peach iced tea, very good and very sweet--declicious fresh fruit is everyhwere in Morocco, although we did have one location where the kiwis came from Chile, and had the sticker to prove it.
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