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This venue is closed.

Strewn rose petals, Persian rugs, and tapestries worth an Arabian prince’s ransom make this sumptuous space as moneyed as it is Moroccan. In a front room still graced by former occupant Fizz’s Klimt-esque wall art, diners in golden chairs dig into light, mostly organic tagines and couscous. Those at the adjacent bar pair light mezes with French or North African wines as well as newfangled cocktails and send-ups of the classics. Downstairs, corporate types have been known to gather in the expansive lounge with its curtained-off enclaves stuffed with silk pillows and its private salon replete with bar, poker board, and pool table. Need to check stock quotes? This is probably the only place in midtown where you can tap into wi-fi while smoking a hookah. — Corina Zappia