Swagged from the ceiling, 34 Berber lamps fling tentacles of light. Their collective candlepower is insufficient for the hapless diner to detect the color of the walls or, crucially, read the menu without angling it back and forth. Worse, narrow metal chairs torture butts any wider than Kate Moss's (hint: hang one cheek over the side, switch every five minutes). Yet though my initial impulse was to bolt from Le Souk, I couldn't resist staying once I discovered that the chef is Tunisian, and the menu an interesting mix of... More >>>