We enjoyed a variety of tajines but the one that left the longest lasting taste in my mouth and memory was the chicken tajine that I cooked myself. Lemons soaked in oil water for a month, a handful of spices, fresh vegetables and chicken all came together and cooked slowly over a fire in a rustic, ceramic pot.
I couldn't tell you how many cups of this stuff I drank while I was in Morocco, but it was a lot. With my extreme (and somewhat childish) aversion to mint I forced myself to drink my first cup. I was surprised when I didn't immediately gag after the first sip. It was very, very sweet and the mint is a lot less pronounced than I thought it would be. I became less and less irritated by the mint flavour as the days went on, and found myself reaching for my third and fourth cup in the chilly desert morning.
A turning point in my life? Has Morocco cured me?
Whether it was with the locals in the center of the Djemaa El-fna for 3 DHM, at a rooftop terrace where I danced with the waiter, or cupping my hands around a warm bowl in the desert and scraping every last bit from it's sandy bottom, I really enjoyed this traditional tomato soup.
You can't go to Morocco and not eat couscous! I definitely got my fix, especially with this mountain of seven vegetable couscous, which was one of the nicest I had while I was there.