IN 2008, PAULA WOLFERT’S BOOK, COUSCOUS AND OTHER GOOD FOOD FROM MOROCCO, WON THE COOKBOOK HALL OF FAME AWARD, TWENTY-FIVE YEARS AFTER ITS PUBLICATION.
At the time, Moroccan cuisine would probably have seemed pretty exotic. These days fancy food trucks and posh catering carts may be blocking the highways in Europe and the US, but Morocco’s biggest street food heaven hasn’t moved in a thousand years.
Jmaa el Fna, The Place of the Dead, The Mosque at the End of the World, North Africa’s most vibrant and exotic square, the ancient heart of Marrakech, where snake charmers, storytellers and acrobats entertain the passing crowds.
By day the bustle of henna artists, potion sellers, fresh orange juice vendors and red-robed water sellers; by night the curling smoke of a hundred barbeques spirals over the largest open-air restaurant in the world. When dusk
falls, hand-carts are wheeled into Jmaa el Fna
and unfolded to reveal portable grills, tables, benches, pots and pans. While
the mounds of food are prepared young men in long white coats work the crowds
trying to convince you that the succulent dishes served at their stall are the
absolutely top-notch best; “Deliah Smith created our menu”, “All our fish comes
fresh from Sainsbury’s”. And Sainsbury’s would probably be proud of the fish
the stalls served, dipped in flour seasoned with salt and saffron before being
deep-fried in bubbling oil until crisp and golden.
Something to suit every pocket
khobz, a small, round flat loaf with the top
nipped off to form a pocket, filled with freshly deep-fried slices of liver
dribbled with a green chilli sauce, or a hand-full of mer-guez, thin spicy sausages,
and you will be set up for a stroll around the souks. (Keep an eye open for the
really esoteric mixture of merguez, hard-boiled egg and tuna fish.)
K e b a b shops
appear on almost every street corner around
the globe
these days, but in Marrakech vendors snub the effete pressed meat served
these days, but in Marrakech vendors snub the effete pressed meat served
elsewhere in
favour of slices of real lamb, glistening with
dribbling fat, sprinkled with cumin and salt as the cook hands it over to you
wrapped in a paper cone.
Chicken with
preserved lemons, delicately spiced with kas-bour (fresh green coriander) and
preserved lemons, delicately spiced with kas-bour (fresh green coriander) and
served with piquant olives;
brochettes of lamb and liver, seasoned with red pepper and cumin, carefully
grilled over charcoal, which spits and smokes as the luscious fats fall on to
it; beef or lamb ta-jines, cooked with raisins, prunes and almonds, have their
conical tops whisked off by the waiters, just as the lids of elegant silver
salvers would be at the Savoy. (Although you may want to leave the tajine of
sheep’s or calf’s feet and the sliced camel’s head to the lo-
cals to enjoy, and it would
take a certain amount of culinary courage to sample a cooked sheep’s head or
bowl of sheep’s testicles – cooked, of course.)
Steaming snails
On the west side of the square, a row of chefs steam mounds of
snails in battered enamel bowls. The menu is simple, snails or snails,
but as the little
gastropods served in a tantalizing broth are a gastronomic institution in Morocco,
it isn’t always easy to get a seat at these stalls. Apparently wonderful for
the digestion, locals drain the broth after having their fill of the snails.
(They also often carry a safety pin to wheedle the little devils out, but a
toothpick is usually provided.)
Vegetarians might not
savour their best gastronomic experience, but it can delicious. Hard-boiled
eggs are chopped and mashed with potatoes, with the inevitable
sprinkle of cumin, (served alongside salt
and pepper on every stall). Bright vegetable salads, glistening piles of
savoury chick peas spiked with fresh-ground black pepper or bowls of lentil
stew cooked with finely chopped onion and garlic; fried aubergine with a hot
green pepper served alongside a pile of fresh cut and fried potatoes, all
washed down with a glaringly orange Fanta.
Delectable sweetmeats
Young boys man-handle
small handcarts or struggle with large wooden trays laden with glistening
sweetGmeats through the densely packed crowds. Delectable as the pastries may
look, aren’t always that sweet. If your taste is for fruit for desert, try,
carmose, prickly pear, and the vendor will carefully remove the skin for you.
For a simple wandering snack, strings of sfenj
donuts are held together by a strip of leaf to make carrying easier. They are
delicious
with a coffee, and come either sweet (with egg beaten into the
batter) or savoury. Also useful for a back-up snack on long journeys.
If you haven’t washed your meal down with a
drink at the stall, a glass of fresh orange juice will be squeezed before your
eyes at one of the many carts around the edge of the square. You might also
find raisin, pistachio and pomegranate
juice, which
have a mysterious flavour of their own. The Technicolor yogurts sold in big glasses look more off-putting that delectable, but raib, a home-made yoghurt with a milkshake consistency slides down the throat deliciously.
have a mysterious flavour of their own. The Technicolor yogurts sold in big glasses look more off-putting that delectable, but raib, a home-made yoghurt with a milkshake consistency slides down the throat deliciously.
The beautiful chaos of the food stalls is
entertainment in its own right, but when you have eaten your fill there is
still the raucous street entertainment of Jmaa el Fna to keep you from your
bed. •
