Savouring exotic Morocco

I am posting this week’s column while on vacation in Morocco, so I thought I’d take you along with me for a taste of the place.

Even if you’re not a foodie like me, it’s hard not to be drawn in to Morocco’s cacophony of colours and flavours.

The markets are the heart of every community and they are full of vendors selling fresh fruits, vegetables and juices, dried fruits and nuts, herbs and spices, or even meat.

On our first day here we left our riad (the Arabic word for a garden residence) to follow the winding alleys in the Medina and discover the market. It’s a maze of brick dotted with intricately carved wooden doors and windows with iron grates.

This is the world of Aladdin and genies, and the mystical history of the region is palpable in the air.

The Medina is made up of souks, areas that sell a particular range of goods such as spices or leather or jewelry. Mixed in are tiny cafes and street vendors that sell anything you can imagine.

Every 10 minutes or so, the minuscule alleys bustling with people and Vespas and donkey carts spill out into a square where one might find a bit of music being played or a street cart set up, selling fresh-pressed orange juice for for dirhams a glass (about 50 cents Canadian) or pomegranate juice for 10 dirhams ($1.30 Cdn).

As we wandered along, I was enticed by the aromas of bins of dried rose petals and cinnamon bark and fennel seeds, the sight of mountains of fresh mint and pyramids of citrus fruits, and the sounds of musicians playing enchanting local tunes on exotic instruments.

The buzz of the scooters and braying of donkeys completed the urban symphony.

We stopped for lunch at a beautiful cafe hidden down a side alley that opened into a huge courtyard with giant palm trees and a fountain in the centre.

We sat on cushions in the corner of an alcove with windows carved like lace, and ate tabouleh and local creamy goat cheese with mint and couscous flecked with herbs, all on a beautiful brass table.

I drank Orangina, and my hubby had a Coke - wine and beer are rare here, since this is a mostly Moslem country. The fresh vibrant flavours of the dishes seemed to echo the intensity of the environment.

You can’t help, but immerse yourself here.

That night we went to Jemma El Fna square, the main market square in the Medina.

By day, it holds vendors selling more of what one sees in the souks, but by 5 p.m., it transforms into a plethora of compact dinner spots cooking up fresh shellfish or meat, along with spiced tea vendors and pastry stalls.

They don’t believe you if you say you’re full — the idea seems to be one of indulgence, to match the general overwhelming nature of the place.

As we strolled back with full tummies to our riad under the light of the moon and the lacy brass lanterns hanging throughout the souk, the snake charmers’ music carried me along with it, almost as if I was on a magic carpet ride.

It was no wonder I dreamt of monkeys and exotic birds and genies granting wishes.

This article is written by or on behalf of an outsourced columnist and does not necessarily reflect the views of Castanet.