Making you jealous in Casablanca

I was going to write a long, thoughtful post about arriving in Morocco and getting terribly, terribly lost in Casablanca today. I was going to make joyful noises about the realization that my French is still very much there, somewhere under the surface of the usable parts of my brain, so much so that every time we are asked where we are from and I say Canada the auto reply is, oh, Montreal? I gave up on correcting them. I am now from Montreal, just so you know.

Anyway, I’m horribly jet lagged and il fait tres lourd and it’s rather hot and I can’t be bothered to write anything sensible.

So I will torment you.

Here is a brief photo essay of what we ate today.

I won’t even mention how Air France forced us (yes, forced us!) to accept multiple glasses of champagne on the flight and had open bar Camembert.

Let’s start with lunch.


Goat cheese, fresh figs, greens.


Then after a very long period of getting lost and failing to get a taxi driver that knew where he was going, followed by a very jet lagged nap at the hotel, we paused for a cafe au lait up the street.


We paused for a cafe au lait and fresh orange juice while waiting for the restaurant to open at 8.


We went here for dinner.

I suppose it could theoretically be more pleasant.


For starters (gratuit, oui).


Very understated olives. In a good way.


Then we ordered a light salad to share.


When you order salad, this is what you get.


It comes with bread.


Very fresh, chewy, squidgy bread for smooshing up the roasted veggies.


And we shared a lamb and onion tagine.


Does this qualify as food porn?


There was also a very pleasing, very affordable bottle of white wine but I forgot to take a picture as I was too busy drinking it.

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About MaryAnne

I live in Hanoi. I used to live in Shanghai (hence this blog's title) but I left in 2013. I tend to travel. I cook stuff. I read a lot. I try to scare myself silly with regularity. I write about it all. A lot.