mye
“It was Thursday. It was the end of the afternoon. It was time to pick up and carry on to the other side of the day.”
Necessity & The Path of Action
I made a lovely couscous with roasted vegetables without butter, salt, or oil for my supper yesterday. There are fewer staples here and a surplus of refined sweets. The small markets are stocked to the ceiling with packaged cookies and canned foods. Oreos, Tim Tams, tomatoes paste, cashews, The Laughing Cow. An entire shelf dedicated to Kraft products: peanut butter, cheese slices, coffee, macaroni, and ketchup.
I purchased a small glass jar of honey, pesto, and Ferrero Rocher chocolate bar.
I have a double burner hot plate in the rose-colored kitchen, one medium-sized pot with a lid, and one wide pan without a cover. The simplicity of the space suits me. I left the vegetables to soak for a few hours before scrubbing the dirt from the skin of the zucchini, spuds, and tomatoes. The chef at the cafe I frequent recommended the Tuesday Farmer Market, where the locals gather to sell vegetables, fruits, olives, and nuts. I carried a bag of produce home for forty dirhams, including a large chunk of bright orange squash with a striped green rind.
I seasoned my dish with the pesto. The couscous cooked in three minutes (no time compared to quinoa!), and I let it sit in the pot as I sautéed the vegetables. I added the tomatoes at the last moment, relishing the hiss in the pan.
I watched the sunset and listened to the water. The ocean is my constant confidant. Part of me wants to book a month in Marrakesh to explore the museums and art around the Medina. Though my heart tells me I will miss these nights, perched on the ledge of the long sofa with the sounds of the waves willing me towards sleep.
I ate my uncomplicated meal from a small, heavy ceramic bowl with black and gold trim. It was delicious; my first home-cooked meal in Morocco. I’ve been here for two weeks, exactly.
The things I anticipate are often the most disappointing. The chocolate crumbled in my palms when I tore open the cellophane package. Small hazelnuts and the dark coco-cream coated my palms in dry dust.
Photo source.
