Foodie's Dream Meal

From LEid Sqir in September to Hagouza in January, ‘tis the holiday season in Morocco. I’ve observed countless feasts, remembrances, non-work days, Muslim holidays, American holidays, and now one Berber holiday.

Last night, I celebrated (code word for “gorged at”) Hagouza, my third New Year’s/السنة الجديدة/Bonne Année dinner, with my new, gregarious neighbors. An old Berber tradition, this holiday somehow always falls on January 13. As with other events, food is the focal point; last night, however, I ATE THE BEST MEAL EVER IN MOROCCO. Each household, Arab or Berber, buys a free-range chicken from the countryside to eat for dinner. A Moroccan “bldi” chicken is neither your Whole Food’s chicken nor your 3-star Michelin restaurant poulet: it’s better. In America, chicken had been my least-preferred meat, but now I’m having second thoughts.

Fatima and I made rufisa, which consists of layers of tortillas and said chicken simmered all day in a vegetable and lentil sauce. Sprinkled on top were fresh, raw almonds. Garnished with one date and one whole egg for each person (for good luck…wink wink), the dinner was served in an extra-large tagine. WOW. Her and her husband, her brother, her nephew, and I feasted well. I was told a proverb: eat well then dance well. We drank Coca-Cola (part of their tradition) and tonic water to help digest. After the meal/Trader Joe cookies/fruit, I told them my newly-thought-up-proverb: Eat well then sleep well. However, there was dancing, laughing, warmth, 5 languages spoken (English, French, Arabic, Tashelheit, and Italian) and, most importantly for me, acceptance.

These are my kind of people, and I’m grateful they’re my neighbors. I’ve been forced to attend Friday’s cous cous lunch and was told of further dinner get-togethers involving kefta and harira. Looking forward to it! Also looking forward to figuring out who is leaving sfnj, an oily donut, and Heineken leftovers on my doorstep. Two steps forward and one step back….