Had Aladdin not found his lamp, I reckon he would have stumbled into Hungry Bedouin instead, and with one taste of their cuisine, would have happily forgotten all about that wish business. Nestled in the hustle-bustle of Westfield's Eastern food court, this small yet vibrant establishment transports you straight to the heart of Morocco, minus the camel rides. I was lured in by an aromatic blend of spices that wafted through the air like an olfactory siren song. My meal started with the chicken skewers. Now, these weren't just any chicken skewers; they came with a rousing backstory of spice-rubbed bravado, grilled over the open flame, much like a Moroccan Survivor series episode. Next up were the vine leaves with hummus - a dish so tasty, I'm fairly certain they used a secret vine from Tarzan's personal garden and hummus excavated from Cleopatra's private stash. The grilled chicken wrap was a belly dance of flavors, every bite a twirl of rich Moroccan gusto. The chicken seemed to have been massaged, sung lullabies, and grilled to perfection - it was that tender. The chickpea salad, on the other hand, was like a refreshing oasis after a desert trek. Crisp, tangy, and remarkably light, it helped balance the opulent notes of the meal. And ah, the flat white! If you've ever wondered what clouds flavored with caffeine taste like, this is it. A delightful punctuation to the meal that sent me floating back to reality. Service was brisk and efficient, though I suspect that was because they saw the look of sheer desperation on my face after a grueling shopping spree. The ambiance was a bit tight, which makes sense as it's an authentic Bedouin tent experience (minus the tent part), but I've been to bigger broom closets.