The first inhabitants of Morocco were the Berbers who were invaded by the Omeyyad Arab dynasty of conquering warriors. Their empire reached from the Indus to the shores of northwest Africa. They built Muslim Spain and created a great civilization that reigned over the southern half of the peninsula and over Andalousia in particular.
In the eleventh and twelfth centuries, the Almoravid dynasty of Berbers, followed by the Almohad Berber dynasty, succeeded the Omeyyads as rulers of the Muslim territories in North Africa and Spain, and were responsible for the unification of Morocco.
The symbol of Marrakech and of Morocco as a whole, Jemaà el Fna Square bustles every evening with food stalls selling skewered meat, soups, snails, and much more. Jugglers, fire-eaters, snake charmers, storytellers, and monkey trainers add to the nightly spectacle.
Sub-Saharan Africa also left its mark on Morocco, trading its gold and other riches: the caravans that converged on the North included large numbers of women from Mali or the Sudan who would become the peerless dadas, the cooks who hold the secrets to the Moroccan kitchen.
It is this social and geographical diversity, and the peaceful cohabitation of different ethnic groups, that has enabled such a fine cuisine to evolve.
From north to south, Morocco offers travelers a wealth of contrasting landscapes. From the harsh winters of the Rif Mountains to the blazing caress of the Sahara, each region has developed its own ways with food, even if there are many elements that are shared from one province to the next. Mechoui (barbecued lamb) or kessra (bread) may be found in every region of the kingdom but the recipes have been adapted to suit the conditions in which they are made.
Take couscous—the national dish—for example. In the countryside, the ruggedness of everyday life imposes a sense of humility in the preparation of the dish: dried fava (broad) beans replace garbanzo beans (chickpeas) while dried meat (gueddid) replaces the tenderer, subtler, and more expensive fresh lamb.
The coastal regions have developed their own original couscous called kasksou baddaz, in which dried sweet corn replaces the traditional semolina. In addition, fish from the Mediterranean or Atlantic enriches the dish.
Austere desert life also contributes its own touch. In the regions where man must often content himself with a few dates and a little milk, couscous is accompanied by small fresh dates (kuran) that are baked until almost candied. There are even varieties of couscous made from barley or rice, again reflecting the heritage of the dadas.
In the furthermost regions, meat is rare and dishes are invariably flavored with spices. Here, visual appearance is paramount. All the senses are called upon to appreciate these attractive dishes with their heady aromas. Cooks are as skilled in marrying tastes as they are in assembling colors.
The result is a cuisine that is festive and sensual. Some claim it even possesses medicinal qualities. Arab doctors have always made use of certain foods to cure their patients, without losing sight of the question of taste. One of them, Al-Rasi, hit upon the idea of coating medicinal decoctions in sugar to make the remedy more pleasant.
Religion has also played its part in shaping the eating habits of the Moroccan people. Religious directives addressed the issue of food early on and certain restrictions came into force. Pork is forbidden, as is any animal that has not been sacrificed in a religious rite—Jews refer to this sanctified meat as “kosher,” Muslims call it “halal.” Despite their solemnity, religious celebrations are also at the root of a number of original recipes that are served at specific times of the year. For example, it is with harira that the fast imposed by the month of Ramadan is broken every evening. This soup, both delicious and nourishing, soothes the hunger of the day and brings members of the family together. On these evenings, and much to the delight of the children present, pastries such as grioch, shebbakiya, selou, and sfenji are also served.
It is in the great imperial cities that the Moroccan art de vivre reaches its zenith. Note the words of a civil servant from the finance ministry in 1885: “Thus at last, Great Chamberlain, will the preparations to welcome the Sultan be concluded. No fewer than thirty-three dishes will follow: salads, couscous, pastilla, tagine of poultry, meat, fish [...]. Scoundrels from backwater provinces will be left speechless before such abundance and magnificence and they will admire with near religious devotion the white bread served for the occasion.”
Large meals, or diffa, follow an immutable ritual: salads are served one after the other and then make way for the famous pastilla (pie) of pigeon. This is followed by mechoui (barbecued lamb), various tagine (stewed dishes), the couscous, and, finally, mouth-watering pastries.
This shop in the Aït Ourir souk (market) east of Marrakech offers tagines cooked over kanounes, a kind of day cauldron.
A flask of scented water is always passed among guests so they may wash their hands and rinse their palates. Finally, guests enjoy a glass of mint tea, the gratifying conclusion to any great diffa worthy of the name.
Opening the doors to Morocco, we enter a world of tastes and colors that reveal great richness and incomparable skills. In doing so, we perpetuate an authentic tradition, a refined and unequaled celebration of the senses.
The dining room of a traditional restaurant looking onto a patio planted with orange trees.
The Riches of a Generous Past
Morocco’s sumptuous history of cooking has placed
the country on the world’s culinary stage
History has rarely provided a better example of people living in such effortless communion than medieval Andalousia. Back then, Christians, Jews, and Muslims shared the same lands and the same way of life. Each group developed its own faith, and art rose to the heights of grace. O blessed Andalousia, for a time the Mediterranean blew a wind of peace onto your shores. But at the end of the fifteenth century, this peace was irrevocably shattered when the Catholic kings from the north broke the truce and forced the Jews and Muslims to choose between conversion or exile.
Banished from Spain, some took refuge in North Africa, perpetuating their long tradition of peaceful cohabitation. Their food, music, and dress were very similar. Admitedly, in the kasbah of Algiers or in the alleyways of Marrakech, the Jews had separate quarters reserved for them, but everyone lived together on good terms. With their shared history, it is difficult today to unravel the bonds that unite Jews and Muslims. As a reflection of this history, Moroccan cuisine is a veritable lesson in sharing, curiosity, generosity, and harmony.
The regional cuisine of the Berbers was already in existence when the Muslim Arabs arrived. Later, the dadas (female slaves) from Bilad Al-Sudan and the Jews who were banished from Spain each, in turn, enriched the culinary art of Morocco. Despite them living in close quarters and accumulating culinary skills, many dishes retained their uniqueness.
I remember that my mother adored eating rkak (matzo, unleavened bread) that our Jewish neighbor made. Whenever our neighbor could, she would give some to my mother, who would offer her own homemade bread in return. As they enjoyed each other’s breads, they traded their baking secrets. But since neither was ever completely successful in making the other’s recipe, they continued to exchange their breads as they had before. Our table was rich and varied with Jewish cuisine distinguishing itself through its pastries and the subtlety of its breads.
Unlike in other regions where Ottoman occupation resulted in the disappearance of local culinary traditions, Moroccan cooking was gently imbued with the influences of foreign cuisines. The exiles who arrived from Grenada were warmly welcomed