Daily Camera
By Liz Moskow Camera Dining Critic
Chicken with apples and apricots at Tangier Moroccan Restaurant in Boulder. (MARK LEFFINGWELL)
Tangier
Food : Three stars
Service: Three stars
Ambience: Three stars
Price: $$
3070 28th St., Boulder, 303-443-3676, tangiermoroccancuisine.com lunch 11 a.m.-3 p.m., dinner 5-9:30 p.m. Monday through Saturday, credit cards accepted
Noise level: low to medium
Recommended dishes: tagine of all varieties, chicken bastilla, tasting menu, hariraHospitality is an important component of Moroccan culture. It’s not unusual for complete strangers to invite you into their home for tea and conversation, or an entire meal that lasts long into the wee hours of the morning.
It could explain why Moroccan style decor is popular in hip lounge-y spaces. The Berber rugs, hand-woven throws and plenitude of pillows invite you to recline. Trance music infiltrated with Arabic beats charms you into a relaxed state, and the aromas that emanate from a Moroccan kitchen. Cinnamon, baked prunes, rose water, spring lamb and baking baklava essence couldn’t be more inviting if your own grandmother was inside shooing you out. Tangier’s is no different.
I’ve had Tangier Restaurant in Boulder on my radar for a long time. The near-hidden location and nondescript sign out front never beckoned me in. Seeking something new, I finally made my way over. Not expecting too much from a place sandwiched between a Subway and a carnicera on 28th, I must say, Tangier knocked my socks off with its Moroccan hospitality and crave-able cuisine.
The moment you remove your shoes at the door of Tangier, you’ll begin to see what I mean. (You’ll want to wear clean socks, or prepare your feet for public display if you go.) Choose to sit at the reclining floor tables and lounge your way through dinner in the plushy pillowed and ornately adorned floor banquettes, or choose a standard table if relaxed dining isn’t your bag. Either way, you’ll melt into your seat at the anticipation of your meal.
Audible “Oh my gods!” and assorted other expressions of pleasure could be heard from the family at the table next to us. The couple on a date to our right was silent. You know, that good silence that occurs when you have a mouthful of wonderful and are too enraptured to speak?
To quote Rob Reiner’s mother in “When Harry Met Sally,” I wanted to say, “I’ll have what she’s having” while pointing to the moaner adjacent to us. Informed by Khalil, our host that it was the chicken bastilla ($11.95) responsible for rendering such bliss, we stopped him mid-sentence and just let him send out what he thought was best by ordering the diafa for two ($59.99). This traditional Moroccan dinner is touted on the menu as “A sampling of a little of everything, when we invite a guest to our house in Morocco, we like them to feel like royalty. We serve the best that we have in our home, so you can sit back and enjoy.”
And sit back and enjoy we did as we were graciously presented with the aforementioned chicken bastilla; ground chicken and almonds intermingled with sweet spices all wrapped in a baked filo package and topped with powdered sugar. I never would have expected what in essence was chicken baklava to be so heavenly. I’d return just for this item alone.
Next came Moroccan bread with honey butter, lentil soup and harira (traditional chick pea, lentil soup) served with wooden ladle-like spoons, both earthy, hearty and conscientiously spiced.
A salad course of Zaelouk eggplant that had been roasted for more than seven hours was infused with saffron. A fresh cucumber melange that cleansed the palate was followed by the main course.
Presented with the small clay-ware oven that is the tagine, Khalil removed the lids to uncover a still bubbling stew of lamb with prunes and apples, and another made with chicken leg, preserved lemon, kalamata olives and peas.
We couldn’t decide which was better, lamb so tender you could eat it with a spoon, or the complex flavor of salty lemon zest interlaced with fall-off-the-bone poultry. I hadn’t eaten this well even in Morocco.
Dessert was a piece of obligatory baklava that didn’t disappoint. Khalil will make a photo-worthy show of pouring mint tea onto someone’s head after they’ve donned a tasseled fez. He also expertly works the room acting as food guide, waiter and host. The restaurant has belly-dancing on weekends, an ample smattering of Moroccan wines and beers, and is open for lunch. While it doesn’t need the entertainment to bolster its offerings, Tangier goes above and beyond to dazzle its diners.
For his encore before you depart, Khalil will sprinkle rosewater onto your palms, the scent of which will linger with you for the rest of the evening, a reminder to return to Tangier, an oasis of epicurean delight and hospitality. I’m certain that I will.
