Zaytina

I had a smoking hot date on Saturday. He had made reservations at the ultra chic, Zaytina, across from the National Portrait Gallery. Neither of us had been before, so we gawked over the menu together, awed by José Andrés' long lists of mezze, drawn from Turkish, Greek and Lebanese cuisines. In the end, we ordered a dish of smooth, cold baba ganouche; baskets of hot puffed pita; giant wild mushrooms sauteed with garlic, dates and almonds; and far too many cheeses (a soft sheep's alongside a slice of dripping honeycomb; another wrapped in tender vine leaves and served with tomato jam, a seared haloumi with preserved watermelon rind; young pickled walnuts and a mild feta, smooth as pate).

You can imagine that I was done in after, but my date couldn't resist dessert. Rose and chocolate ice creams with fluffy lemon zabaglione.

We walked home. ;o)