Middle Eats

Zanzibar

645 9th Ave. (45th St.)

212-957-9197

As the current lingo would have it, I had a straight-girl blind date with Kristen, an archaeologist just back from diving in sinkholes full of Mayan rubble. We met at Zanzibar, a steamy bar and lounge that's become serious about their food, a sort of African fusion. The chef and manager are both from Sicily, where the cooking is heavily influenced by the cuisine of North Africa.

Kristen ordered a cucumber martini that hit the spot, and we went to the loungey area in back, furnished with slightly uncomfortable benches. Thank god I'd brought along a student of ancient civilization to hold forth on restaurant/lounge culture, regional cuisine and the indigenous hors d'oeuvres. We started out with mediterranean cigars ($5), phyllo rolls stuffed with a choice of chicken or cheese. They're a take on sigara borek, a Turkish appetizer Kristen's fond of.

"These shouldn't be crispy. They're usually only a bit bigger than your pinky, and filled with feta and a little bit of mint and spices-that's the maximum that should be in there."

Of course we're modern women on the go, not a couple of uptight sticklers, and the singular crab spring rolls, dipped in a soy/rice vinegar sauce ($12), were our favorite of the small plates. I like just about anything you can dip, including their crispy shrimp in phyllo dough ($13), which came with a celery dip. I could live on dip alone, and once threatened to collaborate on an entire book of dips. But after sour cream, onion and guacamole it all gets a bit vague. These top-notch restaurateurs are always pulling a new dip out of the hat, and I can only admire their boundless drive.

I was leaning toward the lamb shank ($21), but Kristen held firm.

"I've only been able to eat lamb again recently I lived in Uzbekistan for three weeks, where you eat sheep three times a day. Beef isn't economical; sheep and goats are the only things that survive in that scrubby land. Pigeon, on the other hand, is a huge delicacy in Morocco-pigeon pie is a favorite, but you'll never get a New Yorker to try one."

We settled on the Moroccan Red Chicken ($18), which was the hit of the night. It had nice North African spices to it, offset by the fruit and nut compote, and came with a squash pancake that Kristen found innovative. If Kristen didn't work and I still drank, Zanzibar would be conducive to boozing it up in dim and sultry splendor for hours.

At the evening's close, Kristen-such a true chowhound that she sums up her research in Egypt by saying that she had a great time, but the food was repetitive-suggested I meet her in Astoria for some authentic Egyptian cuisine.

Kebab Cafe, founded 16 years ago by the gregarious Ali, was the first Egyptian place in Queens, and now the strip of Steinway Street surrounding the cafe is full of Egyptian businesses. Two busy hookah places, full of lounging men gazing out the huge windows with lazily appraising stares, are practically side by side, though one of them allows women to sit around and smoke as well.

There's also an Egyptian bakery, and a swankier Egyptian restaurant owned by Ali's brother. The Kebab Cafe remains small, cute, and personal. Ali announces each dish while breaking down the ingredients:

"Chicken shawarma-spices, vegetables, and Egyptian hocus pocus!"

The kofta with potatoes ($9) turned out to be meatballs of lamb and rice cooked with a potato in a light tomato sauce. The hawashi ($10) is a fine pita bread stuffed with mushrooms, yogurt and tomato sauce topped with sumac, which has a lemony taste. Sort of like a quesadilla, whereas the kofta was a real first for me, and I liked it.

After that meal, Kristen took me to the nearby Athens Cafe. A double Greek coffee, medium sweet, set me back $5, but that's beside the point. Athens Cafe is quite large, and seems to serve as a courting area for young Greeks. In the summer, the windows open out onto the street and cars cruise slowly by, European style, checking out the talent. The kids looked great, well groomed and fun.

The fuel for all this, strong Greek coffee, consists of fine grounds mixed with sugar and water (be sure to mention your preferred sugar amount when ordering) brought to a boil exactly three times before serving. It's basically the same as Turkish coffee, Kristen told me in a hushed voice, but Greeks and Turks will tell you different.