Restaurants

By Jenni Muir

Many people stop by this unassuming caff for a cappuccino or can of Coke. A sign on the window advertises English breakfasts; there's a list of panini, jacket potato fillings and pasta dishes, too, but that's not the reason to visit. The serve-over chill cabinet, which in any other caff might contain tubs of coronation chicken and tuna mayonnaise, is here lined with saucy, spicy Moroccan concoctions of chicken, lamb, pulses and vegetables. Le Rif offers humble, home-style Moroccan cooking for Brits at almost Moroccan prices. Well, it's cheap.

Portions are piled into terracotta tagines and reheated to order: nothing scary, just six or so stews and four couscous dishes, with fish chermoula available to those who ring in advance. To start there are things like harira (a traditional soup of meat and chickpeas), falafel and a lemony houmous served with flatbread. Main courses are so large you might want to keep nibbles light. Still, nothing's more than a fiver.

Service was casual but soft-hearted. After offering to make a fresh batch of zalouk (a mix of chopped aubergine, tomato, onion and garlic) because it had run out earlier, they seemed to bring us the entire potful. We loved the clean-tasting mango smoothie and 'Le Rif Special Panache', which featured a mixture of the day's fresh fruits; a large glass is £2.60 eat-in or £2.20 takeaway.

Fresh mint tea came sweet and piping hot, a real reviver, served in a dinky pot with embroidered potholder. On the whole Moroccan ornaments are kept to a minimum: a bit of gilt here, a wood screen there, and some nice photographs of rural life. Le Rif is no riad, but good, tummy-warming tucker at fair prices is good news for locals and students.

Time Out issue 1938: October 10-16 2007