Hypothetically, let’s say you had a mistress.
Again, this is strictly hypothetical.
And let’s say, at some point, your mistress had a craving for Lebanese food (weirdly specific, sure, but it’s good to cover your bases).
Ideally, you’d want someplace off the beaten path. Someplace shrouded in hookah smoke. Someplace where partially nude belly dancers could serve as well-timed distractions.
Well, we’ve found that place. You know, just in case...
This is Le Pine, a Mediterranean den of grilled quail, grape-flavored shisha and shadow-cloaked corner tables, now open in Bay Harbor Islands.
The plan: come in on Saturday night. With that hypothetical mistress. Or a hungry second date. Next, you’ll cozy up on a copper-colored velvet banquette set under Moroccan lanterns and signal over some warm pita. It’s handmade and baked on premise (we know how particular you are about your pita).
Then, sometime after the makanek (ground beef and lamb sausage in Mediterranean spice) but before the grilled quail, a DJ will cue a break in the music. And suddenly, there’ll be belly dancers everywhere. Shimmying. Shaking. Innies. Outies.
And when the rest of the restaurant is conveniently preoccupied, you’ll escape to their outdoor seating area with a hookah and a bottle of Lebanese wine. Time to make some bad decisions.
To be clear, we don’t mean steal the hookah and wine.
Again, this is strictly hypothetical.
And let’s say, at some point, your mistress had a craving for Lebanese food (weirdly specific, sure, but it’s good to cover your bases).
Ideally, you’d want someplace off the beaten path. Someplace shrouded in hookah smoke. Someplace where partially nude belly dancers could serve as well-timed distractions.
Well, we’ve found that place. You know, just in case...
This is Le Pine, a Mediterranean den of grilled quail, grape-flavored shisha and shadow-cloaked corner tables, now open in Bay Harbor Islands.
The plan: come in on Saturday night. With that hypothetical mistress. Or a hungry second date. Next, you’ll cozy up on a copper-colored velvet banquette set under Moroccan lanterns and signal over some warm pita. It’s handmade and baked on premise (we know how particular you are about your pita).
Then, sometime after the makanek (ground beef and lamb sausage in Mediterranean spice) but before the grilled quail, a DJ will cue a break in the music. And suddenly, there’ll be belly dancers everywhere. Shimmying. Shaking. Innies. Outies.
And when the rest of the restaurant is conveniently preoccupied, you’ll escape to their outdoor seating area with a hookah and a bottle of Lebanese wine. Time to make some bad decisions.
To be clear, we don’t mean steal the hookah and wine.
