Paula Wolfert: My Old Moroccan Home

The smells are the same: wood-fueled cooking fires, bread baking in community ovens, spices in the markets, mint tea in the cafes, sawdust on the street of carpenters—and always the aroma of the sea blending with perfume the pine-scented air. I walk past a humble house, and am enveloped by the mingled scents of cumin, simmering onions, and the preserved meat Moroccans call khlea. I’m suddenly reminded of my first meal in Morocco, more than 30 years ago—a couscous flavored with saffron, golden raisins, and sweet long-cooked onions cut into winglike shapes.
via Article: My Old Moroccan Home.


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