Marrakesh is a sensual feast, the sounds of hundreds of voices speaking different languages, the grit of the dirt on my sweaty forehead, the smell of fresh cumin mixing with roasted meats and of course the transporting taste of mint tea, poured from a decorative silver pot high in the air.  There is no way to truly describe my four day stint in Marrakesh last week: it was the first time I have ever experienced culture shock, and it taught me a lot.

I do promise to move on to the culinary delights that I discovered, I just need to pontificate for one more moment.  The culture, at least to me, is very clearly in transition.  On one side of the street, a young women wears a full burka, and on the other, a teenager bears her belly a bit beneath a tight t-shirt. A motorcycle speeds by playing pop music, while a donkey heaves the weight of Moroccan ceramic behind him. Ok, ok, I’m off my soap box. I just can’t say enough about how interesting it was to visit somewhere totally different.  Coming home to Madrid felt almost like coming home to Minnesota in comparison.

SO! TO THE MEAT OF THE MATTER (literally). Let’s begin.  The Djemma El Fna (say Je-ma-fna) Square is the hub of activity in Marrakesh.  By day, it bustles with monkeys, snake charmers and men selling the most wonderful fresh squeezed orange juice, but by night it is a full blown grill-off.  The air fills with smoke and the scent of browning meats, and competing venders tempt you with their menus in four or five languages.  Doesn’t matter if you’re full, they want you to eat more.

My dinner started off with a bang of protein, small sausages and sweet-hot tomato chutney with warm flat bread.  Honestly, it wasn’t far off from a very tasty polish sausage…we aren’t as different as we think…

Then came the snails.  I can’t say I liked them. In fact, I really didn’t.  I’ll stick with the french-ifed version with pleanty of butter.

Moving on, kababs of chicken and veggies, lamb and beef all marinated in ras al hanout, I believe.  Ras el Hanout is a mixture of spices and everyone does it a little differently but normally, it includes cardamon, cinnamon, cumin, nutmeg, coriander, paprika and more. Its name means “Head of Shop” because the best spices are selected.  One of the things my family and I purchased (along with a drum made of fish skin, fake Ray Ban sunglasses, and a very old soup spoon) was a big bag of this spice mix.

I think dessert was my favorite part.  This tea in the photo is not mint, but rather ginger and ginseng. And that cake! It is like the most intense spice cake you’ve ever tasted but stronger, richer, and more honest. It doesn’t hold together but rather just melts into a hot mess in your mouth. I will cherish its taste my tongue forever.

Tired, full and dusty, I collapsed in my bed, ready to head to the High Atlas mountains the next morning….