The first thing I noticed when I entered Moroccan Apple was the aroma of formaldehyde. It made my eyes water. The second thing was the pervasive purple and metallic red decor. We were greeted and seated in the Rope Room, a crooked room decorated with numerous bagpipes and brittle batons. Our waiter, whose name was Tex, came promptly and distributed the menus. The menu is extensive. Some of the items which caught my eye were hash, mashed potatoes, cherries jubilee, and ceviche. I decided to order Fried chicken Espagnole and my companion, Vilmer, ordered Tacos Alla Maria Pia. Tex seemed impish as he brought in our orders about fifteen minutes later. I had an egg roll on the side, and Vilmer had a bowl of squash blossom soup. A bottle of water was a perfect complement for my fried chicken.
The Fried chicken was dusty but a bit worn. The common way to cook with mayonnaise is to place on serving dish first, but our chef chooses to shake, then blend it into the fried chicken. Vilmer thought the tacos seemed a bit crude, and said he would never order the item again.
Our ticket came to about fourteen dollars, which I think is bearable. Overall, the food was loathsome, the atmosphere was terrific, and the service was incredible. If you are a dowdy person, this might not be the ideal place for you.