Sahara Cafe

First, let's start with the God-awful: Baba Ganoush (pictured below).

Due to the simple fact I was starving, I had to eat some of it, and even though I shared some of it with Mama's Boy, this was all that we could eat, and let me reiterate: we were STARVING. This Baba Ganoush was lumpy, bland and even had a sort of chemical taste to it. Very disappointing. Thankfully, things were going to get better for us at the table, albeit slowly, very slowly.

The Sahara Cafe has two employees, one in the kitchen and one to serve the customers; we customers would quickly number twenty, which meant that the pace of service would be charitably described as glacial. Tectonic is probably more appropriate.

I arrived about five minutes before Mama's Boy, Doppelganger, Falcon and THE MOLE, and was lucky to be the only person at the restaurant. Therefore, I was watered without having to wait the fifteen minutes my lunch companions endured without beverage.

Our lunch conversation wasn't better. Doppelganger was obsessed by an anus, particularly the anus owned by THE MOLE, and what we would rather do, hypothetically, as opposed to tossing THE MOLE's salad. Doppelganger had set the conversational bar rather low. And as children often do, we proceeded to remove the bar altogether. At least there weren't any _actual_ children in the restaurant. The trauma would have resulted in years of therapy.

The food: not bad, really. I had a gyro sandwich (tasty) and a small plate of falafel (tastly, but very salty, and coming from me, that's pretty serious as I'm a saltaholic). Around the table were a variety of sloppily assembled but well proportioned plates of meats with hummus and salad, which were mostly cleaned by the end of the meal. Falcon had some kind of meat pie thing that looked pretty cool.

At the end of the day, however, Sahara suffers from two fatal flaws. 1. The service is too slow. It should not take an hour and a half to eat what is, essentially, fast food. 2. It's biggest problem is that it's only a couple of miles from Cleopatra, which is, hands down, a far superior restaurant serving better food at lower prices.

Two more notes:

THE MOLE is a figment of our imagination. He's far too slovenly and uncool to occur in nature.

Also, following this post, Mama's Boy will again do a guest review, this time of the Sahara Men's Room.

That is all. Please return to your regular programming.