Best options include the asparagus salad; light and fresh, fueled further by velvety quail eggs; a top-notch confit of yellow beets and goat cheese, served on a salad with a tart lemon vinaigrette. A mini tagine of lamb is wonderful, although the beef can be stringy rather than fall-apart tender. The stew has tender braised morsels of lamb served with prunes, a curious counterpoint to the tender stewed meat.

A grilled swordfish with glazed crisp, almost lacquered skin and terrific deep flavour. Merguez, a spicy small sausage used in Tunisia and Algeria, is also a savory option. The harissa is a real sinus-clearer, and the sauce's peppery heat will probably frighten off any bug that might be lingering around your system. The flavours hit the palate with a vengeance and were so interesting that each one overlapped the next. Each course was small enough that I had room to tackle the overly rich finale, a tiny date beignet.

Still, there's something irresistible about Dune. The dining room is always busy and buzzy and lively; the service is always swift; the food is mostly fabulous. Whether you're already a regular, an out-of-towner or an occasional diner celebrating a birthday, everyone at Dune, as far as I could see in six visits since its opening, is treated like a VIP.