As my quest to review Rabat’s restaurants proceeds, I decided that this project might benefit from a local perspective. My Moroccan friend Wissal (last name withheld at her request) asked to be my latest reviewing partner and I gladly accepted.
Wissal suggested that we try Sottosopra, a bar tucked away in Rabat’s well-to-do Hassan neighborhood. And how could I, a man who describes himself as “Italian sort of,” say no to a bar whose name means “upside down” in Italian? I had also been to Sottosopra a few times before and enjoyed myself.
My companion and I arrived a little before 8:00 PM on November 24, finding the place spacious but largely devoid of customers. Though an empty bar might be off-putting to some, Wissal and I concurred that the lack of noise made it easier to have a conversation.
I ordered a Cuba libre and a Neapolitan pizza, while Wissal picked a Negroni and a croquette filled with potatoes and cheese (which I had to look up on Wikipedia because the acclaimed American education system never taught me what a croquette is).
During the wait for our meals, Wissal and I took in the scenery of Sottosopra. The front half of the bar was well lit, but the back end was shrouded in darkness. It was there that a group of women in their late twenties and a handful of much lonelier customers had congregated.
The tables were scattered in no particular pattern, and Wissal observed that a skateboard (perhaps part of Sottosopra’s aesthetic, perhaps just a random skateboard) was propped up under the bar counter and next to some faux graffiti.
Our drinks arrived after five minutes, and our food 10 minutes later. My Cuba libre was neither amazing nor horrendous, if a bit heavy on the alcohol.
“This Cuba libre just tastes like rum and Coke,” I said.
I later learned that a Cuba libre is, in fact, the same thing as rum and Coke.
Wissal, meanwhile, told me that her Negroni had too much alcohol. She wasn’t kidding: when I tried her drink, I nearly choked. Wissal had been served what was essentially straight gin, which—professionals would confirm—does not meet the definition of a cocktail. At least we were getting our money’s worth of alcohol, I suppose.
The food was a more pleasant experience for us both. My pizza was decent, and Wissal’s croquette was tasty enough that I wished I had ordered it.
No more than 20 minutes into our review, Wissal’s sister Wiam appeared at Sottosopra with her boyfriend. Wiam ordered a liter of beer, then immediately began roasting Wissal before comparing me, unflatteringly, to the character Sheldon from The Big Bang Theory. Nearby and forgotten, Wiam’s boyfriend, a stone-like figure, sat silently.
I should mention that the conversation with Wiam, however unpleasant for me and her sister, would have been impossible in one of the many louder bars that dominate Rabat’s drinking scene. The bar’s quiet atmosphere is a significant point in its favor if you are looking for a chill spot to grab a beer after work.
Once Wiam finished her monologue, the four of us wrapped up our review. Wissal and I concluded that our experience had been more or less pleasant, and Wiam liked Sottosopra’s vibe. Wiam’s boyfriend, as was his way, said nothing at all.
Sottasopra deserves three stars out of five. Go there for drinks after work, but don’t make it the center of your night.
