EATING FEZ
September 20th, 2008
These days, Morocco is becoming famous for its long sandy beaches, its bargain rich shopping districts and its camel-trod corner of the Saharan desert. And while any of these qualities would make a trip to Morocco worthwhile, I was glad to discover that an undiluted taste of traditional Morocco still exists: Welcome to Fez, the oldest and best preserved of the country’s ‘imperial cities’.
The first thing to do in Fez is to simply wander the ancient, bustling streets of the Old City (known as Fez el Bali). Hidden behind massive, 14th-century ramparts, a walk through old Fez can make you feel like you’ve stepped back into a bygone age: narrow, twisting streets crowded with artisans selling leather, brass, copper, silver and wood crafts. Mysterious figures in hooded djellabahs weave through arched doorways, past longsuffering donkeys who haul immense packs over the uneven streets. The air is filled with the scent of spices and the smokey aroma of street vendors selling everything from pastries, to roasted nuts, to tagines and kebabs. It’s enough to make a guy hungry.
It was lucky for me, then, that while wandering the alleyways (translation: I was lost) I happened on a particularly ornate doorway. The sign above read, “Restaurant Palais des Merinides” or The Merinides Palace Restaurant. It was only 10 am, but the door was wide open, so I decided to poke my nose inside and find out what a Merinid manor might look like.
Inside, the building revealed itself to be a three-story high open courtyard, surrounded by loggias and elaborate Merinid architecture. A traditional Moroccan fountain spouted along the front wall and every corner of the restaurant was abundantly decorated with carved wood, moulded stuccowork, tiled mosaics and hand painted arabesque panels. Looking up to the ceiling, I saw an explosion of blue and red stained-glass shaped like a wheel of flowers.
“This is the original ceiling,” a voice beside me said. I closed my gaping mouth and turned to the Moroccan beside me. He introduced himself as Ben-Ali, the Director of the Palais des Merinides. We shook hands and I complimented him on the restaurant’s outstanding decor.
“Yes, it’s a good time to be in Fez,” he told me. “Tourists are bringing the money needed to restore some of our most beautiful buildings. We are almost finished restorations here.” He pointed to where artisans were painstakingly carving new wooden doors for a room just off a second storey loggia. “Would you like a tour of the building?”
I agreed, and soon we were wandering through all three storeys of the palace. We walked through a portal whose wooden doors were no less than 25 feet tall. I stopped to ponder the enormous star-shaped door knocker, situated about 12 feet off the ground. “People must have been taller back then,” I suggested, straight-faced. Ben-Ali raised an eyebrow and said simply, “For the horsemen.”
As we climbed the stairs to the second floor, Ben-Ali began to describe the history of the Palace Restaurant. He told me that Fez was founded in the eighth century by Idriss I, a descendant of the Prophet Mohammed, and that the town was captured in the 13th century by the Merinides. It was the Merinides who were responsible for a lot of Fez’s ornate Andalusian architecture, including this palace. We paused at a second storey side room where master craftsman were working in zellij, a preposterously intricate geometric tile work. I watched the men, wondering at their patience and their obvious devotion to their craft. I wondered too if the techniques of zellij have changed since the original mosaics were created for this palace some 700 years ago.
That evening, I returned to the Palais des Merinides with two friends. We were greeted warmly by Ben-Ali who shook our hands and showed us to a table – an elaborate setting, complete with fresh flowers and a hand embroidered tablecloth, in the colours of Fez we were told. Instead of chairs, we reclined on divans loaded with ornately decorated pillows. The air was thick with delicious smells. Within seconds we were served a bottle of red Moroccan wine, which I found surprising, both because it tasted good and because we were in a Muslim country – in neighbouring Islamic states a glass of wine is considered a criminal offence.
What followed was a slow barrage of culinary delights. Our meal began with fresh bread, seven kinds of salad, and at least six kinds of the most flavourful marinated olives I’ve ever had – and trust me, I know olives. This was followed by mixed brochette (a kind of kebab), crispy lamb-filled pastries called Moroccan cigars and, of course, North Africa’s famous couscous. Then, when we thought we could eat no more, we were served the main course.
“This is the specialty of Fez,” said Ben-Ali, who was now serving us personally. “We call this pastilla. It’s often made with pigeon, but tonight’s is with chicken.” I couldn’t imagine where I was going to find room for this, but after one mouthful my appetite suddenly returned. Succulent poultry, cooked with almonds in tender filo pastry, coated with sugar and cinnamon. I was in heaven, or very nearly. So I ordered a bottle of rosé.
After the main course, we indulged in green Moroccan Clementines, pomegranates, almonds, dates and mint tea. Looking at my watch I realized that we’d been at the restaurant for more than three hours. Three hours of eating and talking and relaxing in the luxury of a Merinid palace.
Sipping my tea, I reflected on how quintessentially Moroccan this Palais des Merinides is. And not because of the awe-inspiring architecture. The sumptuous food was, in many ways, a summary of the country’s natural culinary bounty, including home-grown fruits, nuts, spices, herbs and oils. But the meal was also typically Moroccan in that it served more than a merely practical purpose. In Morocco, eating is as much a social ritual as a thing done out of necessity. Restaurants and cafés are venues for the slow discussion of society, politics and ideas. Moroccans interested in befriending you, will invite you to their homes for supper. Meals lasting two, three and even four hours are not unusual here.
Three hours of eating, with wine, cost roughly $30.00 U.S. per person.
How To Get There
Direct flights to Casablanca are available from New York, London, Frankfurt and Amsterdam, with connections available to those cities from just about everywhere. For those wanting to begin further south in this delicious country, there are also seasonal charter flights available to the beach town of Agadir.
Once you’re in Morocco, the cheapest and most comfortable way to travel is by the National bus system, CTM. It’s also possible to take a train directly from Casablanca to Fez.
[CFJ]
Any Moroccan experiences in your life? Tell us about it. Comments below.
