Marrakech - A Culinary Odyssey

This week I visited Marrakech, and I fell in love. I've had a vision since I was seven, of walking through a market in morocco, and I finally made it come true. I will admit to not being especially passionate about moroccan food, unlike my parents, who are quite simply obsessed with it.

I arrived in Marrakech on tuesday night, having been delayed for two hours. We finally touched down on the tarmac to find the city being lashed with torrential rain, not exactly the weather I was looking for. We managed to hail a cab outside the airport, which is, incidentally the same airport where Sex and the City 2 was filmed, and made it to the hotel after a short dash through the streets of Marrakech which were swarming with mobylettes and beige coloured taxis.

After freshening up we walked to dinner, stumbling upon a small cafe a few streets from our hotel. The cafe was devoid of all tourists and filled with moroccans and smoke (yes you can smoke inside there). I ordered a pita and a virgin mary, as sadly the cafe didn't serve alcohol, as many places in Marrakech don't. The pita arrived on a metal contraption which resembled a keyboard stand and though the virgin mary was sadly lacking a splash of vodka, it was otherwise refreshingly salty and cool. I tucked into the pita with gusto, having eaten nothing but airplane food that day, except for a slice of banana bread that morning. The pita was fresh and thick, and the dressing was thankfully plentiful, I slept satisfied that night.

I got up early the next morning ready to explore the city, at breakfast there was a woman cooking fresh donuts in a large wok, taken still warm from the oil and tossed in sugar these are wonderful, and were a welcome start to the day.

Heading out into the sunshine I became embroiled in the hustle of the city. I stopped for a coffee outside the koutoubia mosque, enjoying the sun on my pasty british skin. Coffee in Marrakech is rarely brewed in the turkish was as is common in other parts of the middle east, however it is often served in a coffee cup without a handle, a style that is now being appropriated in trendy parts of Europe.

Moving on I walked past the koutoubia mosque to the Jemaa el-Fnaa square. There is no direct translation of Jemaa el-Fnaa into english, but it may be paraphrased as either the "congregation of the dead" or rather more poetically "the mosque at the end of the world". The square has historically been used for executions, and an underground prison actively remains beneath the square. Today however the square is mainly filled with orange juice vendors selling freshly squeezed juice for a mere few dirham, and tattoo artists offering henna tattoos.

Near the entrance of the square there were men with chained barbary apes on their shoulders, which should have been cute but was actually fairly repulsive.

I spent the rest of the morning wandering the souk, being propositioned by vendors and bartering for tea sets and tajines. I found a sunny corner of the square and spent a few hours eating couscous with mixed vegetables. The couscous was yellow with saffron and fluffed, and the vegetables were fresh and tender. After lunch I had a cup of mint tea, hot and sweet and refreshing. Mint tea is almost addictive to moroccans and to the rest of the maghreb, who drink is copiously after every meal. It is considered rude to refuse mint tea if it is offered to you when you are a guest.

I spent the rest of the afternoon shopping and enjoying the hot african sun, before taking a tour of the city on a horse drawn cart, which litter the city in huge numbers. Our driver took us on a tour of the old walls of the city, and in spite of the cars and mopeds swarming around us, it was remarkably peaceful.

The next day it was time for round two, at breakfast a woman was making moroccan pancakes, she stretched them out with her hands, folded them over and cooked them on a griddle, flipping them with her bare hands with an impressive agility and dexterity.

I was hoping to see a snake charmer, and whilst in theory there is something magical and mystical about snake charmers, in reality a grown man walking towards you waving a large poisonous snake is fairly intimidating.

After having a sandwich for lunch, I decided to go to the Jardins Majorelle, once owned by Yves Saint Laurent the gardens are a beautiful oasis in the heart of a rather rough neighbourhood. The garden is calm and still, and it made a welcome break from the exuberant chaos of Marrakech.

Having had my fill of peace I took a horse drawn carriage back to the hotel, ready to sleep and recuperate for my flight tomorrow. Upon leaving Marrakech I can't wait to return to the spice, the heat and the bustle. Marrakech, shukran.