Food For Thought

On the last visit to Fez a few weeks ago I experienced three very different meals, all memorable for their own reasons. My visits have always been short affairs so far, I have a family in Norwich to maintain and a job, which helps to maintain the family... and so on. I find typical Moroccan food just the ticket, meat and veg (tagine), meat, veg and couscous (couscous!), and who can argue with a proper Moroccan salad?

But I find the ex pats I spend most of the time with often crave a bit of fine cuisine, or even a spot of home cooking.

So here are the memorable meals in chronological order.

Day one, Saturday (fairly knackered from being awake the previous night catching the red-eye from Luton); a couple of beers at Riad Fez and a chinwag with the manageress Cesaerine (probably spelled wrong, but that's what her name sounds like). And a recommendation of a new place just opened. So we gave it shot. It was right on the opposite side of Fez so a longish taxi ride. Now as I said, I'm happy with a tagine or a plate at Thami's, but then I'm not in Fez all the time, but if I'm going out of the way and getting charged European prices, I'd like to think it's worth my while. What I don't expect is cream cheese masquerading as mozzarella (which is widely available in Fez) and 'carpaccio of beef' in uniform fluorescent pink discs. "Where's the olive oil", said my colleague. The olive oil appeared and served to make a dish with no flavour (save a couple of Parmesan shavings) into a dish that tasted of bitter olive oil.

The decor was nice and the service seemed well drilled, the wine we had was at as nice temperature. I'm no restaurant critic, but I know my grub, so surely all the effort to impress is wasted on substandard nosh. Definitely style over substance.

And the name of the place? Well let's just say it'd wipe the smile off Buddha's face.

Day two, Sunday; the perfect opportunity for a traditional British Sunday roast. In Fez. On the terrace of chef extraordinaire, Louis Da Fez with a helping hand from Cafe Mike and Tariq. As Louis will tell anyone who'll listen, cooking in a small kitchen is no challenge to a man who spent years catering for hungry crews on yachts around the world. Generally dealing with a cooker swinging at 45 degrees to the horizontal. The beef was immaculate (if that's considered a good critical culinary description).

Image courtesy of Sandy McCutcheon, The View From Fez

Sandy's blog 'The View From Fez' summed up the evening as part of A Typical Day In Fez.

Day three, Monday; off to the parts of Fez rarely seen by tourists to get steel furniture fabricated. I had visited this workshop three times on my three day visit, and found the proprietor very amenable. I liked his work and ordered some. On day three we were there at lunchtime, and after a cigarette or two with the workers the food came out. The team drooped their tools, gave their hands a rudimentary wash and pulled up objects to sit down on around a rickety table. "Mange, mange" (don't trust my French), they said. How could we refuse despite that hunk of cold beef in the fridge back home ready to be sandwiched.




The lid came off the first dish. Fava beans (or broad beans in UK) with chicken, and a loaf of bread each to scoop them out. Now I rate fava beans as one of my favourites so was well chuffed, despite the fingers that had been washed rudimentarily.

So this was the most enjoyable meal of my stay (that's no disrespect to Louis' culinary skills, this was all about the time and place).

And it was free.