Moroccan Cuisine

After dropping off our things at the riad, we headed to Djemaa el Fna. Of course we did. Read anything about Marrakech, and it's inevitable they'll mention this famous square.

If there was anything my husband was looking forward to on this trip, it was the food stalls at D-e-F. I wanted to go shopping in the souks, he wanted to eat goat head. Well, he never did get around to the goat head, but he sampled a few things that first night as we wandered through the rows of stalls which sprout up every night. One thing he was told not to miss: snails, shown above.

Because rows of virtually identical stalls are arranged side by side, the vendors relentlessly try to engage you. Menus are thrust in front of you as you pass, and shouts of "Excuse me!" or "Do you know Jamie Oliver?" ring out from every direction. Jamie did indeed visit Marrakech:

In the end it wasn't a menu, an invitation, or an inquiry about my nationality that got my attention. It was french fries.

As we walked past this stall, the proprietor was emptying basket after basket of freshly cooked fries into a bowl. I had my tush on his bench in an instant.

As it turns out, it was sort of the Moroccan version of a fish and chips shop. Okay, maybe I was just starving, being fresh off the plane and beside myself with excitement about finally being in Marrakech, but...

...those fries were delicious. Freshy cut, piping hot, generously salted. That's my kind of Moroccan cuisine.

Speaking of Moroccan cuisine, a special thanks to the two wonderful ladies at the riad who keep the place sparkling clean and whip up the fabulous meals, Oumhani and Zakia.