The beauty and meaning behind Moroccan tea

On a beautiful morning recently, we sat with our lovely guests and Moroccan friends during our recent Morocco Caravan Experience on the outdoor terrace of a Moroccan farmhouse sipping Moroccan mint tea. Surrounded by stony ground and argan trees, blue skies and white clouds, I was filled with awe by the beauty and perfection of it all.

We were learning about the artful ritual of making Moroccan mint tea in Morocco.

Though I can’t quite find the words to describe what the scene, the surroundings and the gathering evoke, I can tell you that it felt like magic. That feeling of overwhelming joy and wonderment that elevates the soul and uplifts the spirit.

There was something very sweet and heart-warming sitting on that terrace sipping on tea with that enticing and mouth-watering aroma of freshly made Moroccan mint tea. The ritual of serving mint tea is not only the art of tea perfected, but also an intentional act of kindness and hospitality.

But beyond that, what adds to the beauty of it all is the simple and aesthetically pleasing ceremony in the manner that the tea is made, presented and served. From the traditionally handcrafted and beautiful Berber tea pot to the traditional terracotta stand for holding the boiling water above coals, the serving tray and Moroccan-made glasses and even tea pot holder, the entire experience evokes old-world hospitality.

The tea ceremony and ritual require skill. Stretching the arm holding the tea pot as high as it can go, often while holding a tray and perfectly pouring tea with a constant and perfect stream of the golden tea without spilling any of it outside the glass. It’s always amazing to witness such skill, precision and grace.

Moroccans serve mint tea to their visitors not only as a gesture of warmth and hospitality but also kindness, appreciation and gratitude. There’s is so much beautiful intention and meaning behind it all.

Drinking mint tea is an essential part of Moroccan daily life. It has no boundaries. It’s not predicated by socio economic status and it’s as universal as drinking water, if not more prevalent. The serving of tea in Morocco always comes before business or social interaction and always at the end of a meal.

Humans need rituals and traditions. But our busy lives and packed schedules often convince us to sacrifice those rituals in place of practical expediency.

But the ritual of Moroccan tea is a great reminder that there are more important things in life than rushing around and getting down to business.

The ritual of serving Moroccan mint tea for every occasion of encounter in Morocco is the epitome of the warmth and beauty of Moroccan hospitality. It’s a wonderful and purposeful demonstration of the joy of gathering as you welcome visitors, friends or family into your space.

— Adventure and joy, Amira

How to experience timeless Morocco in the midst of change

(FROM THE NEWSLETTER): The world is changing faster than ever. And while all places evolve and adapt over time, Morocco’s pace of change is sudden and jarring.

I’ll admit that it’s odd to talk about change in Morocco when you’re sitting in a house that is centuries old in a city founded 1,200 hundred years ago.

The city is Fez, an ancient and awe-inspiring wonder in a country brimming with history, culture and other-worldly landscapes.

But lately, even Fez is changing. It's becoming a bit more like Marrakech, which is not necessarily good. Many of the changes are making Morocco harder to visit, especially for people looking to explore Morocco’s real food culture and ancient traditions.

We blame the pandemic. And the recent earthquake made things worse.

Learning to make traditional Moroccan food from our wonderful Berber friends in a remote village.

The Moroccan government declared a covid State of Health Emergency on March 19, 2020, and imposed some of the most severe lockdown rules in Africa (often enforced by armored vehicles) until it ended on February 28, 2023. During that time, the government imposed on again, off again curfews, restrictions of movement not only into and out of the country, but between cities.

Tourism represents 7% of the Moroccan economy and employs 5% of its workers. All that economic activity stopped. Workers stayed home and tourist business owners suffered catastrophic losses.

A huge number of workers outside the tourism industry also couldn't work for months. Businesses downsized or closed. The unemployment rate skyrocketed.

The loss of income sent a ripple through the Moroccan population, driving up debt and causing other financial problems.

As the pandemic waned, tourism started crawling back. But then a 6.9 level earthquake struck on September 8 in the Atlas Mountains fairly close to Marrakech. Visitors canceled their plans and many buildings were damaged.

And since we arrived in Morocco a month ago, war broke out in between Hamas and Israel. And more people canceled their trips to Morocco.

In Fez, they still process leather the old fashioned way.

During The Morocco Caravan Experience, we got to spend a night in a remote ancient village in an old rammed earth house built in the 17th Century. Although that house was safe for our stay, it suffered superficial damage. Our initially intended riad in Marrakech was damaged as well, and we found an alternate (and equally stunning) accommodation. Buildings all over Marrakech were destroyed or damaged and currently many are scaffolded or walled off. Beyond even the human toll, the earthquake delayed Morocco's hopes for recovery.

The pandemic and earthquake accelerated negative trends already in progress in the country, including the replacement of local crafts by cheap, made-in-China knockoffs, adulterated argan oil and fake honey as well as the further industrialization of the food supply. Street merchants are selling more aggressively than ever. Goods for sale are much lower quality, and prices much higher, in general. Prices are soaring. Lodging, transportation, food and other traveler expenses have doubled or tripled in some instances. Local businesses are desperate to pay off their pandemic debts, and are trying to gouge their way to solvency.

ATM withdrawals limits have been lowered for locals and tourists alike, while more sellers and service providers are insisting on cash. And so visitors often can’t get enough money to buy the things they want to buy, further reducing income for Moroccans.

And there's construction everywhere.

And added to all this, there’s greater government controls throughout the country, including police checkpoints.

Some experienced, skilled people in hospitality have left the industry, and young, new and inexperienced people have taken their place. Many of the better conventional tourist activities and cooking classes and day trips have been replaced by the herding of busloads of tourists into rushed, soulless, cookie-cutter "experiences" that are rampant all over Morocco.

Damage to buildings and construction materials are visible all over Marrakech.

Our signature exclusive bespoke and totally authentic gastronomad experiences are still possible, but only because of our deep, long-standing relationships with the local chefs, winemakers, artisans and others who enable them.

Before the pandemic, The Morocco Caravan Experience was the only way we're aware of to experience the true, authentic, best version of Morocco's exquisite food culture and traditions. Now, in the aftermath, that's truer than ever before.

It’s not all bad news. Positive changes abound as well: A few promising new restaurants have popped up here and there. A very small number of holdouts are still selling better traditional objects, fabrics and clothing in the Medinas. Internet connectivity is faster and more ubiquitous. The road through the Atlas Mountains, which had been under construction for years, is mostly finished and is now smoother and safer. The government is sprucing up some areas with landscaping and other improvements in major cities.

It’s clear that Morocco is making a big effort to build the country’s infrastructure to attract mass tourism as a way to provide more jobs and increase revenue. But there are always unintended consequences to the rapid growth and changes caused by mass tourism. Something that’s more evident and palpable this year than ever before.

Real Moroccan food is gloriously delicious.

We love Morocco, and believe in the Moroccan people. But it has become a more challenging and less rewarding country for nearly all tourists, and also the locals who have to endure the overly crowded medina streets, soaring prices and loss of income because of the pandemic, earthquake and war in the Middle East.

Now more than ever, The Morocco Caravan Experience represents the antithesis to the mass and rapidly increasing industrial tourism spreading in Morocco. We take you outside of the ordinary tourist bubble saturated with run-of-the-mill activities. Instead, we immerse you in the true Moroccan culture with the extraordinary warmth of genuine Moroccan hospitality in the most remarkable places.

During our Moroccan Caravan Experience you enjoy the warm embrace of our local Moroccan friends as we gather and break bread around the table. We transport you right into the heart of authentic hospitality while enjoying the most exquisite and exceptional food and wine through magical culinary gatherings.

Our goal is that you can enjoy one-of-a-kind unforgettable travel adventures that are meaningful and transformative, creating memories you can cherish for a lifetime.

— Adventure and joy, Amira

Moroccan eggs for breakfast in Marrakech

Amira fell in love with this dish for cooking eggs in an oven. It’s cracked, but still in use.

An update on the earthquake In our beloved Morocco

We said good-bye yesterday to our long-time friend (and veteran of several Experiences) and the new lovely additions to our family of Gastronomad friends after an epic week during The Venice Prosecco Experience, then were heartbroken to find out about the devastating earthquake that struck Morocco Friday.

We reached out immediately to dozens of our Moroccan friends throughout the different regions of Morocco and were relieved to learn that every single one of them and each member of their families is safe and sound.

We thank you and appreciate all the thoughtful texts and emails many of you sent us sharing your concern.

As most of you know, we host The Morocco Caravan Experience once or twice per year and the next one is happening in a month — October 9 - 22, 2023.

We also reached out to our friends due to attend next month's Experience. We gave them the option to postpone or proceed as planned. They unanimously decided to continue with The Morocco Caravan Experience as planned. We feel so lucky and grateful for all the remarkable people who join us on these singular culinary adventures and who are always ready to embrace it all with such a brilliant sense of adventure.

The Morocco Caravan Experience is a journey through not only the country of Morocco, but through time. Many of the ancient places, villages, medinas and buildings we visit were undamaged in the quake.

Unfortunately, one of the properties we were planning to stay at in Marrakech (a beautiful and stunning centuries-old riad) suffered some damage, although fortunately no one got injured. The "back up" accommodation we would have used also suffered damage, with some cracked walls. We’ve seen many videos and pictures from Marrakech that friends have shared with us and, though the damage seems messy at first glance, mostly doesn’t seem structural. But we wouldn't stay at any property that’s not perfectly safe.

It's not clear yet whether or not the properties will be repaired in time for our sojourn. Engineers still need to conduct inspections and provide a report on the findings. In any event, we’re ready to find alternate options, which we’re confident we can do with the help of our wonderful local friends.

That said, Marrakech suffered significantly in general. Many houses completely collapsed. Alleyways are filled with rubble. And some of the ancient medina walls crumbled. But the most severely affected areas include the mountain villages Southwest of Marrakech in the High Atlas Mountains, where many lives were lost because of the relative fragility of traditional earthen buildings so close to the epicenter.

Moroccans are resilient and hard-working people. Although this catastrophic event is costing thousands of lives, even as they mourn their loved ones, Moroccans are united in this challenging time and are resolved to rebuild their lives and persevere. It’s possible this is going to take years to overcome, so help is needed.

I know this can all be unsettling for many of us. But life goes on. If anything, this is a good reminder that we each have a responsibility to do our part the best way we can. Living life and enjoying the experience of living, even within challenging circumstances, is part of our common humanity during our short time on this beautiful planet.

Life happens. And it never waits for everything to be perfect or for us to retire or achieve milestones or goals, for that matter. We have to embrace the good and the bad together, find the silver lining and make the most of all we can in this moment.

The Gastronomad Experience is designed to be a meaningful way to explore other lands, learn about how others live and, especially, immerse ourselves in the cultures we encounter. As we try to capture the authentic heart and soul of each place, we focus not only on the beauty and deliciousness of it all, but also the true reality of our surroundings.

The impact of the earthquake will be very much a part of what we'll have the somber privilege to encounter in Morocco as we gather around the table, break bread with locals and enjoy once-in-a-lifetime magical moments in our celebration of life and human connection.

Mike and I will be heading to Morocco soon. And we can hardly wait to embrace our friends there, stand with them in solidarity and also enjoy and celebrate the privilege of living. And we’ll be ready to wholeheartedly welcome our guests for The Morocco Caravan Experience and together embrace the joy, the beauty and the sadness all at once with respect, humility and empathy.

We’ll also be filling our luggage with needed personal items and scarce necessities to donate upon arrival in Marrakech.

In the meantime, some of you have asked how you can help. If you’d like to make donations, here are five reliable organizations that we recommend:

• Doctors Without Borders

• CARE

• Global Giving

• UNICEF

• The Moroccan Red Crescent Society

Please share these links with your friends. And thank you for your kindness and for being part of our family of Gastronomad friends.

With love,

Amira and Mike

At home in Morocco

Life in Marrakech always feels fast and slow, new and old — all at the same time. One moment you’re overwhelmed by the city’s hustle and bustle — the loud motorcycles racing through the narrow alleys of the ancient medina, dodging pedestrians — and the next moment you feel like you’ve traveled back in time when you happen to encounter a peaceful hidden alley with hardly any passersby. Every ancient archway feels like a path into the past.

Time becomes a blur in this part of the world. I wake up to the first call to prayer and go to sleep after the last of the day. And the time in between vanishes like the smoke that rises from the many cooking fires in Jemaa el-Fna square.

Life for us nomads is different everywhere we go. It changes with the environment. It changes with the time zones. And it changes with every culture we encounter and try to adopt as our own. Nothing ever gets stale. The life of a nomad is filled with novelty, serendipity and adventure. These are the built-in gifts and joys of living a nomadic life and exploring this magnificent world.

That's the good. What's the bad and the ugly? Not much turns out to be bad when you're a seasoned traveler and are of the mind that every experience is an opportunity for new adventure. What may seem like a negative thing often comes with a silver lining when you intentionally look for it. As far as ugly, the world is complicated and that’s reflected everywhere. No place on this planet is immune to the ugliness created by humans. We accept the world as it is.

The biggest downside of our lifestyle is how much we miss our loved ones. Doing FaceTime or Zoom with them helps but I still want that human touch with them. I still want those embraces and kisses -- especially our granddaughter's. Frankly, the hardest thing for me is that no matter the distance, I still feel the pain and suffering of those I love as my own pain and suffering. And though I can always catch a flight on a moment’s notice, I can’t always be with them when they need me and when I need to be with them.

In some ways, the sadness I carry with me keeps me grounded. Because of it I can genuinely and profoundly feel the joy bestowed upon me in all the different corners of the world I love so much. I've learned not to take anything or anyone for granted. I'm mindful of the fact that we only have one life to live so I focus on what matters most to me. I try to live life with intention, grace and mindfulness because anything else would waste the most valuable thing we all have: our precious time.

As full-time digital nomads, Mike and I are citizens of the world. But it's curious to me how those who have homes in a permanent house often tell us that they cannot comprehend how we can live without our own bed, our own kitchen or a daily routine with the same people in the same place. It's unfathomable and inconceivable to them. My mind instantly wonders how can they? But I know that's just me. It's the way I was probably born — born to explore.

My response: My lifestyle is not for everyone. But it's perfect for me. There are some trade-offs. But living in the same place permanently, sleeping on the same bed, cooking in the same kitchen, having the same daily routine and being attached to all the material possessions that come with a house are no longer tradeoffs for me. They used to be for a time many years ago.

Someone recently described us as "homeless" in the context of trying to describe the fact that we don't have a permanent residence address or live in a permanent house.

Obviously, we're not vagrants. And we actually own property. We don’t own or live in a permanent house by choice. We make a living doing what we love. But it's true we don't have a house that's a permanent residence other than sometimes we use our son's and daughter-in-law's address to ship things to. But we're not homeless — far from it. We rent our homes — sometimes for as little as for one week, most often for a month or two.

We are nomads. We move around a lot. Wherever we happen to be is our home. Right now, our home is Marrakech.

We're staying in a beautiful ancient Riad that's owned by a friend of ours. And it's magical to live here. Even after 16 years of this lifestyle, we fall in love with it all over again every time.

The more of the world we see, the more we realize how little of the world we’ve seen. The more we learn about other cultures, the more we realize how little we know. I reckon we'll spend the rest of our lives wandering around the world with the humbling understanding that we will never live long enough to see it all or learn enough about it. Some say ignorance is bliss. I find bliss in being confronted with my own ignorance. Because it's an invitation to learning something new.

Mike and I are of one mind when it comes to travel — and our gastronomadic lifestyle. We travel for the thrill of living everywhere and eating everything. We're not homebodies, I'm not even sure I can understand what that means but I do feel a certain aversion to the word.

I love roaming around and wandering aimlessly in every place we live -- that's my nirvana. It brings me immense joy, which produces enormous gratitude and happiness within my heart and soul. So much so that it feels like my heart beats a thousand times a minute from the exultation in every fiber of my being. But I could never feel this way if I were doing this alone. My secret ingredient is that I get to do it with the love of my life. Mike is the reason this is possible for me. I'm forever grateful to the universe for my good fortune.

Mike and I are always ready to go anywhere on a moment's notice. Packing is not a big deal. Changing plans and being flexible is part of the thrill. A canceled flight. A sudden invitation. It's all just another opportunity for serendipity. Extending our travels for an event is something we're always ready to do. Acting on a whim is all part of the joy of discovery.

For us, the world is too big to stay in one place. Home is wherever we happen to be. -Amira

Morocco after the plague

We're in Morocco, and so happy to be here again!

Before the pandemic, we used to come two or three times a year, sometimes for two months at a time. But this is our first trip to Morocco in nearly three years.

Like many countries, Morocco closed during the pandemic. But few closed as tightly as Morocco. This country not only banned international flights to and from Morocco, but also all travel between cities internally. When Morocco shuts down, they *really* shut down.

Morocco opened again on February 7, and we landed in the country on the 20th.

The entry to Morocco required both full vaccination, plus a PRC covid test within 48 hours of entry into Morocco. Yet when we landed at the airport, nobody checked the test we took and instead were herded along with everyone else into one of a series of medical tents outside the airport for a covid test administered by the Moroccan government.

Even two weeks after the opening, many businesses were still closed. Most of the shops that were still closed when we arrived actually opened during our first week in Marrakesh, with roughly 90% open on the day we left.

(Restaurants, hotels and riads had been ordered shut by the government. Most stores, restaurants, hotels, riads and other businesses went into debt and laid off their employees. Before the pandemic, tourism employed some 500,000 Moroccans.)

During the lockdown, Moroccans were subject to early and draconian curfews and limitations on movement.

Marrakesh is a tough city, and probably the one most prone to hustling, scams and ripoffs. I got a haircut, and didn't establish the price in advance (a rookie move). He said the price was $50, and Amira talked him down to $30, which is ten times the going rate for haircuts in Marrakesh.

We visited some of our favorite restaurants, which had just re-opened. And while we were very happy to find that they survived the pandemic, we were often their only customers.

Many businesses, including riads and restaurants, don't take credit cards anymore because during the pandemic they stopped paying the fees for using the credit card terminals and system.

Tourist vans and cars all had to be parked, and Marrakesh didn’t have the space to park them. So the government opened up the pedestrian square in front of the Koutoubia, a 900-year-old mosque that is probably the city’s most recognizable landmark, for parking.

Construction is everywhere. A massive construction effort has obviously begun, especially in Marrakesh. Many of the streets and storefronts are in the middle of re-building. The city has piles of sand, gravel and bricks all over the place, and many streets in the medina are dusty and uneven. But the results are already showing, and the improvements are making everything better.

What's clear above all is that Morocco has seen the worst of it and can expect a very good recovery, which has already begun.

In the meantime, we're very much looking forward to the first Morocco Experience we’ve been able to do in nearly three years.

Pandemic or no pandemic, Morocco is eternal.

Fantastic wine and delicious food, stunning landscapes, ancient medinas, incredible architecture, skilled artisans, rich traditions and wonderful people — we can't wait to show Morocco’s joys and beauty to our group of Gastronomads. — Mike

It's super easy to get lost in the Fez Medina

The Fez Medina (the ancient city of Fez) is pretty small, but has 9,000 lanes, alleys and walkways that go every which way. Even though we’re super familiar with Fez, getting lost is inevitable. Here I had gone down a hundreds narrow alleys and turns, only to arrive at another dead end.

In the Moroccan Sahara, you can see the stars. All of them!

On our first trip into the Sahara, we traveled from the edge by camel for a few hours into the desert. Our guide, a barefoot Berber, suggested we scamper up a nearby dune to watch the sun set while he made dinner. I thought the food would be horrible, sandy, cold or weird, but it was in fact the most delicious tagine I had ever eaten. The flat disks of bread started out fresh, but were dry as crackers by the end of our meal due to the extreme dryness of the desert, which steals all the moisture from everything.

Our tent was made of camel hair, and was dark olive green. The night was so perfect, we moved our bed outside onto the sand and slept under the stars. The entire sky was stars — there was only bright stars and dim stars and bright galaxies and dim galaxies — so many stars that you couldn’t see any black space between.

The Milky Way was rising as we drifted off to sleep. I woke up hours later, and it was directly overhead, mostly filling the sky. The galaxy felt sometimes like a ceiling just 10 feet over my head and sometimes like a blanket actually covering me.

Making traditional couscous on a farm in Morocco

Couscous is one of the many culinary gifts of the Berbers. It's tiny balls of crushed durum wheat semolina traditionally cooked with the steam of the meat and veggies that it will be served with. Commonly made on Friday, you eat it communally, with everyone digging with a spoon into a huge plate of couscous in the middle of the table. It's delicious with a little buttermilk, which you pour on the portion you're eating from.

(During our Morocco Gastronomad Experience, we make couscous traditionally and from scratch, and enjoy different regional varieties as we caravan across Morocco.)

This Berber boy tried to sell us a fox

After a long drive across the increasingly arid Eastern Morocco and greeting our favorite desert Berber, Mohammad, our Morocco Experience Gastronomads, Amira and I drove out to the edge of the orange sand dunes of the Sahara and got ready to mount camels for a ride to our camp.

A boy came running across the flat open stretch before the dune and appeared to be holding a cat by the neck. Is it dead? Does he want to sell us a dead cat?

When the boy got closer, we saw that the cat was actually a Saraha-dwelling desert fox called a fennec fox. And it was alive.

We turned down the fox, but paid him 5 dirhams for a picture.

A quick selfie in Moulay Idriss

Wrapping up our preparations for The Morocco Gastronomad Experience, which begins Monday, we stopped to snap a selfie with this amazing scenery in Moulay Idriss. What a cool town! What a beautiful area.

Our favorite dive in Fez

A few years ago, while lost in the Fez medina, we stumbled across a small family restaurant cooking tagines on coal in the alley in front of their restaurant.

We had a good feeling about it and decided to have lunch there. We ordered a couple of tagines and a small salad.

Other patrons were all local, and the staff unceremoniously dropped their bread directly on the table for them. For us non-Moroccans, they put our bread on a plate.

So many Fez dives are tiny, and lack bathrooms or any place for you (or the people making the food) to wash hands.

This place, however, has a nice sink with powdered soap right there in the dining room.

The food was delicious and cheap. We enjoyed it and left.

Then today, while not lost but passing through a remote corner of the medina, we encountered the restaurant again, and decided on the spot to have lunch. And it's just as delicious as we remember.

So I'm now elevating this restaurant to my favorite in Fez. It's cheap and basic, but the fact is that their food is super delicious.

I don't know the name of the restaurant, however, because their sign is in Arabic and they don't show up on Google Maps.

But we know how to get there now, and I'm sure we'll be back. Maybe we’ll even take our Morocco Experience Gastronomads there.

Why this glass of wine came with an empty can of Coke

Amira and I had dinner at an undisclosed location here in Morocco — a pretty nice restaurant with some pretty good food. While ordering, our owner/waiter asked if we wanted wine. I said yes. And he said: “We don’t have our liquor license, so if you have wine please be discreet about it.” And so when he brought the wine in a glass, he also brought an empty can of Coke so it looked like I was drinking a soft drink. I looked around the restaurant, and just about everybody had empty cans of various soft drinks on the table.

Ruins on the beach

Essaouira in Morocco reminds me of my home town of Carpinteria, California. Carpinteria is famous for its gently sloping beach, which means that you can walk out into the surf 30 yards and still only be waist-deep in water.

Essaouira's beach is far bigger, wider and more gradual. You can walk out 100 yards here and only be waist deep.

Better still, the water in Essaouira is warmer, and there's no tar to step on.

The only two downsides compared with Carpinteria is that in Essaouira you'll encounter trash in the water.

And also: camel pellets.

That's right. Some enterprising local camel and horse owners will take you on rides on the beach. Riding camels on the beach is actually a must-do activity if you ever make it to Essaouira.

You can also rent a quad bike and do donuts in the sand. And Essaouira is notoriously windy, and so it's a kite-surfing paradise.

Amira and I like to take long walks on the beach whenever we can. And Essaouira is great for walking. You can walk for miles on the sand. One curiosity along the way, just south of the town is what appears to be a rocky formation on the beach. Upon closer inspection, it looks like a man-made structure completely fused with natural rock.

The structure is called Bourj El Baroud, an 18th-century watchtower for a castle built for the Sultan Sidi Mohammed ben Abdallah. That tower was destroyed by a flood in 1856. And it was built on a Phoenician structure.

Anyway, it’s great to be on the beach here in Essaouira. It’s just like home — plus ancient ruins and camel pellets.

My office today: the patio of some hotel off the main drag

Hunting for a celebrated fish joint in Essaouira, Morocco, we stumbled across this hotel patio and decided to hang out for awhile, get some work done and enjoy a nice Moroccan rosé. 

Snails are a big hit with the kids here in Essaouira

Essaouira is Morocco's favorite beach town, popular not only with European holiday-maker types, but also Moroccan families from elsewhere in the country. (Our gorgeous gang of Gastronomads is going to love it, too...) 

Street food is everywhere. And the most popular kind of street food appears to be escargot.  

As the sun goes down, families crowd around these escargot carts, and kids as young as two seem to love them.  

I'm personally not aware of any other place where escargot is a popular street food.  

What we heard through the grapevine about Morocco and wine

We love Morocco, and spend a lot of time there. And we hear a lot about Moroccan wine, and the strained relationship Moroccans have with it.

Morocco is culturally, historically and gastronomically linked to not only Arab and Berber peoples, but also the wine-drinking Spanish and French.

The tension stems from the Islamic ban on alcohol, plus the fact that during Morocco's colonial period, the French controlled about 90% of the country and many people moved from France and planted vineyards.

And tourism. The essential conflict is between Islamic clergy, which apply pressure to stores and the government to completely ban all alcohol, and the economic health of the country -- alcohol is heavily taxed, and it's availability helps attract millions of tourists to the country, a huge source of foreign revenue. Morocco is a tourist destination. More than 12 million visitors come to the country each year. And most of them are from wine-drinking, non-Muslim countries. They come on holiday, and want to drink wine.

Geographically, Morocco is fantastic for growing wine grapes, a practiced probably introduced to the country by the Phoenicians and carried on by the Romans.

And so the country produces a significant quantity of wine, and the quality has been improving since the 1990s with fresh infusions of French winemakers attracted by great climate and cheap land.

Moroccan culture seems to me to be a shame- rather than a guilt-based culture -- which is to say that many of the trappings of Islamic piety are for show, for the avoidance of social stigmatization, more than displays of deep conviction. So while it's extremely rare to see Moroccans ever drinking alcohol, we’re told that "all" Moroccans do drink it in private and hide it, often from their own families.

Moroccans drink alcohol secretly. The alcohol they drink tends to be wine. Many drink wine for the alcohol more than as something to accompany food. We’ve been told Moroccans tend to be indifferent to quality.

It's technically illegal for Moroccans to buy alcohol. But sellers are eager to sell to Moroccans, as long as they don't get caught doing it. Foreign visitors are allowed to buy it, and you can typically find wine in hotels, restaurants and supermarkets. The supermarkets keep all the alcohol in a special and separate area.

The country of Morocco produces a lot of very bad very wine, some good wine and a small amount of truly great wine.

Moroccans generally drink the bad wine and the tourists and export markets drink the good and great.

And while wine is available at wineries, hotels, some better restaurants and at specialty liquor stores, the culture around wine is conspicuously undeveloped.

Amira and I once ordered a bottle of Moroccan wine during Ramadan (when I believe Moroccans mostly stop drinking wine, even secretly). It was a bottle of red from Morocco's wine country around Meknes. The waiter placed the bottle in an ice bucket with no ice. He had a vague idea that wine goes in one of those buckets, but didn't really understand why.

At another restaurant in Fez, we wanted to try a bottle of wine, but were told they sold wine only by the glass. The "glass" for this glass of wine was a weird thick water glass, and not at all suitable for wine.

We took a flight once from Fez to Marrakesh -- a domestic flight within Morocco. Amira spotted an interesting bottle of wine in a shop in the airport. When she tried to buy it, she was informed that it was forbidden to sell wine to anyone traveling domestically (even though wine is available in Marrakesh).

Leaving Morocco once, we had a few bottles of wine to take back to California. Airport security in Fez runs luggage through an X-ray machine as you enter the airport building. They saw the wine on the X-ray screen. They didn't know what to do. Telling us vaguely that it was "forbidden" to have several bottles of wine, they phoned a supervisor. We waited there for 20 minutes or so before being allowed to enter the airport with our bags.

Making wine in Morocco can be a challenge because of the heat. Digging a cellar in the grape-growing areas and storing or making wine there won't give you the temperatures needed for vinification, fermentation and aging. So Moroccan wineries use air conditioners and, in at least one winery we saw, foam insulation glued to the tanks.

Moroccan wineries don't make sparkling wine, with one exception that I'm aware of (a 100% chardonnay that was pretty awful). Only one winery in Morocco makes a sparkling wine, for which they use the champagne method. It’s a unfortunately not drinkable.

French grape varieties predominate, although some wineries are using some obscure grapes from elsewhere. Mostly we've found Carignan, Cinsaut, Alicante, Grenache, Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot and Syrah.

Moroccan wineries are also unusual because most eschew tasting rooms. They simply don't allow people to come and taste their wine. A tiny number do allow it, but they tend to charge a fortune for the privilege. And the tastings are not really conducted as you’d expect. Not much information is provided on the wine or the production unless you’re lucky enough to be received by the winemaker, which never really happens for the general public.

Fortunately, if you’re part of our Morocco Gastronomad Experience we’ve got you covered! You’ll get to visit all of Morocco's very best wineries, and taste of all the country's best wines.

A gathering of farmers and nomads in Morocco

Visiting our wonderful and dear friends Omar and Kenza, the dynamic duo behind Marrakesh Organics, we enjoyed a magical stay on their organic permaculture farm. Returning to their home, which is a Moroccan oasis just outside the hustle and bustle of Marrakech, was even more wonderful than we had imagined.

Omar and Kenza are extraordinary people with fascinating upbringings and life stories. They’re true humanitarians and stewards of the land in Morocco. They’re devoting their lives to educating others on how to grow their own food and develop sustainable farming practices as well as preserve the art of ancient building skills. And they’re true kindred spirits — they love and care about much of what we love and care about. In the end, no matter what country we’re from, we all want the same things in life and we’re more alike than different.

During our visit, we had the pleasure of meeting two of Omar’s and Kenza’s friends with whom we got to share a couple of meals. One was a permaculture expert who spends a lot of time in India heading an organization devoted to helping farmers develop sustainable farming practices, especially women farmers. The other friend is working on his PhD and doing interesting research on ancient cultivation practices around sustainable farming. The six of us talked for hours as we shared a delicious dinner prepared by Kenza. We had fascinating discussions about many topics revolving around travel, food, nutrition and farming. It was our nirvana.

During our last meal at the farm with Omar and Kenza, the four of us got into a profound conversation about living meaningful lives with a sense of purpose, fulfillment and belonging. We even talked about what we all might do someday when we "retire." They said they might travel like us; we said we might farm like them.

We actually like the idea of establishing a permanent home, growing food, building a nest with a kitchen full of wonderful cooking stuff and a pantry full of grains, beans, nuts and seeds as we listen to our sauerkraut gurgling next to our sourdough starter. We've encountered a hundred places that would be ideal for permanent living.

There's just one problem: To embrace any one place is to give up every other place. And that we don't want to do. Our love for travel is stronger and far more powerful than anything else.

Of course, it would be nice have it all. Yes, we lived "residentially" in Sonoma country for two years -- one year surrounded by vineyards and olive groves and the other at an organic farm. We still crave gardening and homesteading.

But we also feel deeply compelled to keep moving, exploring and discovering.

Life is about living today. Yes, plan for tomorrow but live your best life today. The past is a memory; the future mere anticipation. The present moment is all we have and all we’ll ever have. Life is too short to not live each day to the fullest. And for us, living to the fullest means to keep doing what we’re doing, which means to travel and explore other cultures and keep meeting awesome people like Omar and Kenza.

For now, our motto continues to be: The world is too big to stay in one place. It’s a conviction driven by our desire to belong everywhere and settle nowhere.

Perhaps it’s because nothing makes us happier or brings us more joy than freely exploring this beautiful planet. Or maybe it’s because our lifestyle during these past 13 years has not only been a dream come true but also because it’s been deeply fulfilling and rewarding giving us a sense belonging everywhere we happen to be.

We're in Morocco now. We feel at home here, too. This country is mesmerizing. We're constantly encountering artisans whose skills come down to them from many generations -- maybe a thousand years back. They handcraft their goods with the same tools and in the same way their ancestors did. To witness these crafts in Morocco's ancient medinas is like traveling through time.

We're also enthralled by the love and knowledge that people like Omar and Kenza bring to everything they do. Paradoxically, to restore heritage and revive ancient skills and wisdom -- to embrace tradition -- takes boundless creativity and a spirit of innovation as well as resilience and passion. (For example, when building their guest houses and walls, they make their own bricks from scratch -- not easy!)

What a joy to take farm-grown, home-made, traditional meals with such wonderful people we're so lucky to call friends.

Our palates rejoice in the intricate flavors and deliciousness of beautiful traditional lamb and barley couscous Kenza prepared -- part of their Friday tradition. We enjoyed this meal out of a communal bowl on their beautiful terrace overlooking their hundreds of olive trees while enjoying the sounds of birds singing all around us.

Saying goodbye is always hard. And talking about it made Kenza and me shed a few tears. And for me, those tears and that tender moment together is the greatest gift of love and friendship and something I cherish with all my heart, even when we’re thousands of miles apart and oceans away.

Experiencing traditional culture lovingly and skillfully prepared on a farm bursting with life in the embrace of such beautiful people nourishes our souls and fills us with profound gratitude and boundless joy.

These are the moments that make the fabric from which the our Gastronomad Experiences are made. We want you and others to have, see, feel, touch, savor and cherish the world that Mike and I have had the privilege of experiencing in our 13 years of Gastronomad exploration. And I’m beyond grateful to Kenza and Omar for also opening their farm doors to, and sharing their farm table with, our Gastronomads during The Morocco Experience. - Amira

Moroccan bread

Moroccan bread is kind of amazing. In a country with wide regional diversity in many things, the bread remains consistent throughout the country. It’s a basically flat, white, small loaf coated with bran. Crucially, it goes perfectly with Moroccan foods, including and especially tagines.

I’ve asked several Moroccans what the bread is called — what style of bread is it? — and after a moment of confusion, they reply that it’s just “bread.”

You can buy this stuff everywhere in the country. And it’s cheap. Amira and I just bought two breads and a big slab of butter and it all cost about a dollar.

The quality ranges from “not that great” to “pretty damned good” and never higher or lower. But this bread is perfect for scooping up tagines without need for utensils. Amira and I had a fantastic chicken tagine today with really great bread at some dive that probably sells them for $3 each, but we were charged $10 because we were foreigners.

Fridays here are a kind of anti-bread day. The devout spend more time at the mosque, and Fridays are an especially religious day. There’s too much religion for bread baking, so bread is harder to find on Fridays. As a result, many people have couscous every Friday, a starchy dish that you don’t eat with bread.