Marrakesh | Of Pigeon Pastille | The Moroccan fig liquor is beginning to sneak up on me. Or perhaps it’s the jet lag. The soulful music of the live fo

riad - Fernwayer Travel Stories & Experiences

Morocco

The Moroccan fig liquor is beginning to sneak up on me. Or perhaps it’s the jet lag. The soulful music of the live folk vocalist is not helping either. 

We’re waiting for dinner, in the courtyard of a restored Riad. It’s a good thing I haven’t eaten much during the flight because very soon, it’s clear that they expect me to have the appetite of a small army. 

The food is absolutely delicious, and here’s what I learn:
“Salad” is a selection of 5-10 amazing dips served with khobz - flatbread. 
Pigeon pastille is a must-have any time you see it on a menu!
Tagine of lamb with fluffy couscous - when cooked to perfection as it is here - is irresistible. 

This is followed by an elaborate dessert course, mint tea prepared with precision and ceremony, gnawa singers and a belly dancer who insists on audience participation. 

This story celebrates a series of unforgettable meals in Marrakesh - some in fine restaurants and others on the street.

Of Pigeon Pastille

United States

In Marrakech, explore the labyrinth of the medina, lined with market stalls and craftspeople, and full of secret places and contradictions. 

Anonymous, windowless, fortress-like walls enclose luxurious riads built around tiled courtyards, complete with fountains and gardens.

Happily, my wonderful guide Khadija of Morocco Private Experience, encourages my curiosity. She leads the way across the medieval labyrinth of chaotic alleyways - to the souks where centuries-old skills continue to flourish. 

I am intrigued about how all the craftspeople are clustered together by trade. We watch a metal craftsman shape a pair of gnawa cymbals. A leatherworker allows me inside his workshop for a better view. There is an entire street of ornate lantern sellers - the bronze-latticed lanterns competing with the palm-leafed roofs of the souks in throwing light-and-shadow patterns all around.

Heart and Souk

The riad sends a donkey called Couscous to meet us and pick up the luggage; the taxi will only go so far into the medina. 

As our merry procession winds through the narrow, confusing alleyways, we panic slightly. No problem, says a djelleba-clad staff member, you’ll have a map and cell phone to call if you’re lost. But he graciously accompanies us to our dinner booking and explains how we should get back to the riad. We leave invisible bread crumbs along the way – kebab shop, sweets stall, bakery etc. 

After a long meal, at 11:30 pm, the souks have closed, the streets look very different, and our bread crumbs have obviously gone to bed. It takes two wrong turns and much poring over the map before we find our way back. Our sense of adventure is fully piqued. 

Inside, the restored riad is palatial, with courtyards, heated pool, tiled terraces and stylish artwork. Breakfast is whenever you want, and wherever, says the charming Afaf. 

Shall we move in permanently, we wonder.

Morocco

Marrakesh-Safi

Of Pigeon Pastille

Heart and Souk

Riad Living