I have entered a competition with Fire & Stone. If I win, I get to go to a city that I have dreamed of going to for years, SEVILLE.
Please help a gal out and vote for me. All you need to do is go to www.fireandstone.com/vote and vote for ‘The Seville’.
Thank you so much and if I win, I’ll bring back a load of oranges for all of you.
Sarah x
After our short stay at Four Seasons, we ventured into the old town of Marrakech, the Medina. We were prepared for chaos in Marrakech after reading the guidebooks and listening to friend’s stories, but upon arrival in the Medina, we were subjected to true taste of what it is like to be a tourist in Marrakech.
The taxi driver stopped and asked a local lad for directions to Dar les Cigognes, the riad that we were to stay in for two nights. The lad and driver exchanged a few words in Arabic before we were told that we were in capable hands and the lad would show us on our way. We paid the driver, pulled our suitcases out of the boot and followed the lad, down windy alleyways, past a flurry of oncoming mopeds, when we finally arrived at the riad. The boy rang the bell and asked for money for showing us the way. We politely declined and rushed through the door once open. Here we encountered our first problem; we were directed to the wrong riad, one with a very similar name, Riad les Cigognes.
As soon as we stepped into the courtyard, the confusion set in. This riad did not look like the one we had seen on the pictures and there was a small (and quite grotty looking) pool, which we also knew Dar les Cigognes did not have. With no one that could speak English, we pointed hastily to a map to ask where we were before wheeling our cases around the busy streets and luckily happening upon Dar les Cigognes.
After parading our bags through the chaotic streets in the searing 40 degree heat, the cool courtyard at Dar les Cigognes was a pardise of tranquillity, a calm from the ensuing mayhem of the streets outside. One would never have imagined what lay behind the dusty pink walls but this place was truly stunning… palatial even. All original features had been restored to impeccable detail. The house was formerly the home to a Jewish merchant who made trade with the king in the palace opposite. We later found out that the surrounding area was once the Jewish district of Marrakech before the trouble in Israel / Palestine lead to most of the Jewish population fleeing the city.
We walked in and were greeted by the General Manager for the Sansoucci Collection, Pierre Herve. After being seated on the sofa area in the beautiful courtyard, complete with orange trees and a water fountain littered with flower buds, we were treated to a sweet and syrupy mint tea. Pierre then proceeded to give us a verbal tour of the city and provided us with a wedge of sheets that contained personal recommendations – where to get the best leather, pottery, the best museums and gardens, along with the best restaurants.
We felt that we had walked into a small paradise from the bustling outside world and immediately felt at peace in the riad. We walked up the stairs to our room, unlocked the door and once inside marvelled at the original features – the beautifully carved ceiling, the enormous wardrobe and an extremely large polished concrete bath. We found rose petals on the floor beside the bed and on the bath mat and later that evening two cookies and a small bottle of milk at the bedside. It didn’t take us long to realise that what makes Dar les Cigognes so special is the attention to detail.
We dined in the square that evening at a restaurant that was recommended to us, Marrakshi. Situated in the tourist hot spot, it was noted that it is touristy but serves the best food on the square and provides good entertainment. Our honey and almond tagine was, at that time, the best tagine we had ever eaten and we enjoyed our meal.
After seeing the snake charmers and monkeys on leads wearing nappies, we retreated back to the riad for a peaceful nights sleep before taking breakfast on the terrace the next morning. We were served a range of Moroccan breads and pastries, a bowl of fruit and yoghurt, freshly squeezed orange juice and coffee. The breathtaking flowers sat in rows upon rows of terracotta pots and set us off planning for our soon to be very own garden (we have just bought out first flat!)
During our stay, we were also treated to a tour of the local food market by Pierre, which was followed by a cooking class back at the riad. As soon as we stepped outside into the blistering heat, Pierre took us the long way round – he wanted us to see the communal oven. Each day, members of the public would take their own dough to the wood fired communal oven and pay as little as 1 diram per loaf. Motorbikes were loaded with freshly baked breads and delivered to the local restaurants.
The tour of the food market was invaluable, smelly and at times disturbing but it gave us a good insight into Moroccan produce. All of the fruit and veg is organic – because they can’t afford pesticides and only Moroccan produce is available – because they can’t afford to import. We saw tiny kittens wandering sleepily and cats staring at men butchering chickens.
Back at the riad, we thoroughly enjoyed cooking our monk fish tagine and vegetable cous cous. I won’t go into too much detail here as I will be writing about this on Eat the Olympics. But what I will say is that it was the best tagine I have ever eaten – pure heaven, despite feeling a little strange about eating the fish after seeing the fish stall in the market and Pierre telling us that we were 200km away from a beach and there is poor refrigeration in the trucks that carry the fish to Marrakech!
After two nights at Dar les Cigognes, we were off to our next stop, Dar Darma. Stay tuned for the review!
Rates at Dar les Cigognes start from 150 euros.
Dar Les Cigognes
108, rue de Berima
Marrakech, Morocco
+212 524 38 27 40
info@lescigognes.com
www.lescigognes.com
Food For Think was a guest at Dar les Cigognes
Since I moved to London six and a half years ago, my Sunday activities have changed somewhat. My first two years, when I was a young and spritely student, I spent my Sundays wallowing in self-pity after a heavy night on the tiles. The years since have pretty much been spent in the kitchen baking or cooking a Sunday feast. But despite being from the north (well, Nottingham), I rarely cook a Sunday roast. Don’t get me wrong, I have attempted a few but after five hours slogging away in the kitchen, not to forget the piles of washing up that come after, I have never really enjoyed the fruits of my own labour. I much prefer to go out and let someone else do the hard work for me.
We took a trip to Victoria Park Village a few weeks ago to The Empress to indulge in a Sunday feast. The weather outside was miserable and as usual not making its mind up. We encountered a few showers before entering the restaurant but once we were seated, we were pleasantly surprised how bright and airy the restaurant was. If it wasn’t Sunday we would most likely have wanted to crack open a bottle of rose.
First we were served with a plate of E5 bakery sour dough and butter. We learned quickly that if you order a plate of bread, you are entitled to free refills. A cleaver marketing ploy.
We also ordered a plate of creamy green olives (£3) and deep fried polenta & salsa verde (£4.50) to start, followed by roast pork belly, roast potatoes & red cabbage (£13.50), cecina (£8.50) and a small portion of pearl barley, pea, feta & pine nut risotto (£6) for main.
The deep fried polenta had a great crispy exterior and the salsa verde was a perfect addition to the creamy polenta inteior. My only criticism was that there was not enough of it and we were left with three plain pieces of polenta.
The pork belly arrived and I was happy to see a generous portion with a golden crispy topping. I tried to cut into it and despite having been given a sharp knife, it took a while to tear through the crackling. When I did, I took a bite of the fatty flesh, which was slightly dry but tasty nonetheless. The accompanying roast potatoes were fluffy and rich, the cabbage delicious with a hint of spice.
Our cecina was fantastic quality beef and was delicious with the E5 Bakery sour dough bread that we kept on ordering!
One of the highlights of our lunch was the pearl barley risotto. Nutty and al dente pearl barley with crunchy pine nuts, creamy feta and sweet peas was just heaven.
I couldn’t go without dessert, particularly as the waiter walked past and recommended the baked cheesecake & orange (£5.50) when I was looking at the menu. I had to have it. Sadly (or not, which ever way you look at it), Jack doesn’t like orange so I had to eat it all by myself.
It arrived and I tried to tell myself that I was not disappointed by the size of it. You see, it was quite small and I am quite greedy. It turned out to be the perfect size and was quite possibly one of the best cheese cakes that I have ordered in a restaurant, that and the unforgettable cherry baked cheesecake that I had at Pizza East a while back.
The atmosphere in The Empress is perfect for a lazy Sunday lunch time. Customers were a mixture of families, big groups of friends and couples. After our laid back lunch, we were off to have a quick walk around the village before jumping back on the train to reality.
Food For Think was a guest at The Empress.
‘Cabin crew, please take your seats for landing’. The familiar words from the softly spoken pilot woke me up on my early flight to Marrakech. I lifted my blindfold off my eyes and looked out of the window. All I could see was a vast expanse of desert and sandy coloured towns dotted below the flight path. When we came into land, I couldn’t help but think that hadn’t I known otherwise from seeing pictures and footage of this vibrant city, I would have thought the only colours I would be seeing for the next six days would be cream and salmon pink, for all of the buildings in sight were painted in either colour.
I came to Marrakech with Jack primarily for the fact that we are going to explore the city and use it for the Moroccan entry for Eat the Olympics. There is no better way of getting to understand a countries cuisine than by actually exploring for yourselves.
Our first stop was the Four Seasons. We felt we were stung with the taxi fare – a guide book from 2007 and the pretty lady at the tourist information center informed us that we should be paying no more than 150 diram for a taxi to the hotel. But when you tell a taxi driver that you’re staying at the Four Seasons, you can see the dollar signs rolling in their eyes. After a quick haggle from 200 down to 180, we were off. And we were peeved when no more than ten minutes later we were rolling up the driveway of the grand Four Seasons Marrakech.
We were greeted by a bell boy and taken inside to the waiting area where we were met by the lovely PR manager for the resort. After a quick verbal tour (the resort is too huge for a walking tour!), we were shown to our (deluxe suite) and left to our own devices. We were to stay at the resort for two days before traveling into the centre to experience two riads.
The suite was impressive and luxurious with a living room area equipped with dining table and chairs, a comfortable sofa that also doubled as a bed and a huge flat screen TV. We opened the double doors, which led us into the master bedroom and saw a huge king sized bed, another flat screen TV and an impressive marble master bathroom, armed with a drench shower, a huge sunken bath, toilet, bee day and his and hers sinks. Both rooms had vast double doors, which led directly onto a long balcony overlooking the resort.
We didn’t stay in the room for long because we wanted to get down to the pool area. Upon arrival we were greeted by the pool butler who showed us to two empty beds and told us that he was happy to help should we need any assistance. The towel lined sunbeds overlooked the longest and most tranquil pool that I had ever seen. The water so still, calm and inviting. This was what we had been waiting for – a day of sitting by the pool doing nothing but listening to birds tweet and soaking up the sun. After a couple of hours, we treated ourselves to a spot of lunch on the terrace of Azzera, which overlooks the pool. A mozzarella, tomato and aubergine salad can set you back £17 but considering we also received a basket of freshly baked breads and were able to enjoy the views, we could hardly say it wasn’t worth it.
Later in the day we made use of the tennis courts, which costs around £13 per hour (includes racket, ball and trainer hire). It was my first time playing on clay and although my t-shirt was positively wet through by the end (playing in 30 degree heat is quite strenuous!) I thoroughly enjoyed it.
The first evening we dined at Solano, the resorts Moroccan restaurant. Both of us have eaten Moroccan many times. Living in London, we are lucky to have a wide range of Moroccan restaurants (some good, some VERY bad!) But we were glad to see that some of the dishes were new to us.
To start we ordered Pigeon pastilla with spicy salad to share for a starter, followed by Lamb tagine with peas and artichokes and Monkfish and prawns with tomato chermoula, vegetables and black olives for main. We were treated to green and black olives with cheese and baby plum tomatoes on sticks with a basket of bread to start. The cheese and tomatoes on sticks were a novel idea – not sure totally authentic Moroccan but I’m a sucker for cheese and tomatoes so I enjoyed it!
The starter gave us a bit of a shock when it arrived. A round filled pastry was covered in icing sugar and cinnamon. I glanced at Jacks face to see his reaction – I was worried he would dismiss it as he’s not one for mixing sweet and savoury and isn’t especially keen on cinnamon. The waiter explained that pigeon and almond was mixed together and wrapped in pastry before being fried. I didn’t know what to expect but was extremely surprised when I took my first mouthful – gamey pigeon mixed with almond matched incredibly well with the sweet topping. I might even go as far to say that it is the best new dish that I have tried in a LONG time. Even Jack liked it and that says something!
The main course was not quite as impressive. I perhaps played it safe with the lamb tagine, which was very tasty but I guess I knew what to expect. The lamb and artichoke was tender, the peas crispy.
The monkfish dish was delicious. Tender medalions of monkfish and juicy tiger prawns sat in a delicious tomato fish marinade and was accompanied by crispy seasonal veg. The portion sizes were perfect – enough to fill us without making us feel uncomfortable. Sadly though, we did not leave enough room for dessert. The poached peach tagine with star anise, pistachio sabayon, almond ice creak & Fekkas almost tempted me but after such a long day, we felt it better to retreat to our suit for an early night.
We spent two nights and three full days at the Four Seasons resort before heading into the Medina for three more nights. By the end of the trip, temperatures had soared to 44 degrees and we decided to ask if it would be possible to spend our last day lazing by the pool before jetting back to London. Luckily we were allowed and I couldn’t have been more grateful for the swimming pool and beautiful surroundings. A mere three and a half hours flight and ten minute taxi journey on the other side and you can be basking in the African sunshine at Four Seasons Marrakech. I couldn’t recommend it enough.
We also dined at Blue D’Orange and talked to head chef Francesco Montano and Pastry Chef Sylvain Nicolas. Review and interview to come soon!
Four Seasons Executive Suite costs between 550 – 740 Euros per evening.
Food For Think was a guest at Four Seasons Marrakech and Solano restaurant and flew with British Airways, which flies to Marrakech eight times a week. Lead-in return summer fares start from £224.56 including taxes, fees and charges.
To book or for more information visit http://www.ba.com/Marrakech or call 0844 4930787.
As I write this, I am sat on my flight back to London. I have just had a heated discussion with my boyfriend because of the way that I was writing one of my reviews. He (quite rightly) accused me of using flowery language to discuss experiences that, at the time, intimidated, scared or upset me. I have been in Marrakech for the last six days and I can hold my hand up and say that it was the most challenging holiday I have ever had. I was expecting it, I’m not totally naïve, but you can play scenarios over in your head many times and when it comes to the crunch, your feelings can be totally different. I can’t count the amount of times I rehearsed the next few sentences in my head over the last three days that I spent in the Medina, but here they are. I was brought up in England, a country that is world-renowned when it comes to politeness. We Brits will queue anywhere and say sorry at anything, even when it’s not our fault. I am unbelievably guilty of this and have often thought that I’d have a good stash of cash if I created a ‘sorry’ box.
I don’t like being approached when shopping and I will more than likely be put off a purchase if someone approaches me and actively tries to sell something to me. I might be in the minority but I know a fair few people that would say the same thing. So when we walked through the streets of the Medina in Marrakech and every single shopkeeper tried to guide us into their shop for us to see their goods, I was put off going in. I didn’t step foot in one the whole time I was there. But perhaps it wasn’t just that, I have a feeling the fact that is was 44 degree heat and the fact that I have just splashed out on a hefty deposit for my flat that put me off shopping a little.
But it wasn’t the shopkeepers that intimidated me, it was the boys on the streets that, even if you gave off a slight air of not knowing where you are going, hounded you, tried to give you directions, walked with you to the place you were going and tried to get money off you. Boys tried to point you in another direction by coming up to you, pointing and saying ‘ It’s closed, that way is closed.’ I have no idea what they were trying to achieve but 100% of the time nothing was closed.
Our first evening in the Medina was spent tirelessly looking for one of the restaurants that had been recommended to us by the General Manager at Dar les Cigognes, Tobsil. The description on our recommendations sheet told us that this was a romantic restaurant with great entertainment and refined Moroccan cuisine. We walked for what felt like hours trying to find the place. We stopped in a chemist on the square to ask for directions. He was extremely helpful and even rang the restaurant to double check as he was not sure. But even when we arrived in the area, we were unsure which alleyway to take. Then in stepped a local lad. ‘Are you lost’? He asked? Foolishly we said yes, we were trying to find Tobsil. ‘Ah, Tobsil, I will take you there, follow me.’ At this point I knew that it was a bad idea. He took us down the side streets, which wound and wound and seemed to take us deeper and deeper into obscurity.
Eventually we arrived at a small door and a doorman from the restaurant greeted us. The lad and his friend asked for money and the doorman appeared to be in on it. I was in a foreign country, surrounded by three men, down a dark alleyway with no other human being present. I was scared. We didn’t have change and weren’t about to part with a note that worked out at £20, so we declined. Insistent, the lad and his friend continued to pester, until I shouted out ‘Can we please just go into the restaurant.’ At this point, the doorman pressed the bell and the door opened instantly. Shocked, we rushed to our table and marvelled at the interior. Dark with red velvet chairs, rose petals scattered everywhere and live music that started up as soon as we took our seats. I’m sad to say that after the ordeal of trying to find the restaurant, we left five minutes after arriving. At 7.30pm we were far too early and as a consequence were the only customers in the whole restaurant.
But let me say that, looking back, every person in the Medina that I felt intimidated by was totally harmless. The taxi driver that took us out of there laughed as I sat in the back semi shouting after having one last bad experience with a local teenager who tried his hardest to ‘help us’ (when we were persisting that we didn’t need help) and when we put our bags into a taxi came up close to me through the window asking ‘Do you have a little present for me?’ By this time I had had enough and shouted to the taxi driver to drive off. He did, simply laughing and said ‘Welcome to our country.’ All sorts of thoughts were raging through my head during the taxi journey but what it all comes down to is that it was truly a culture shock. The taxi driver was right, this is their culture and I was just not used to it. The General Manager of Dar les Cigognes was right, the city may seem scary at first but there is never any trouble between the locals and tourists and it is totally safe.
At times I felt like I was on a film set. I was half expecting a trio of Mini Coopers (a la one of the Bourne films) to come flying past me, down the winding and narrow alley ways, past the many donkeys carrying heavy loads, the tiny shops barely big enough to allow a man to stand, the many tailors working their machines, motorbikes, mopeds and push bikes speeding past pedestrians on narrow streets, men sat outside souks pouring mint tea from a height.
I am probably sounding like I did not enjoy my holiday. I did but at times it didn’t feel like a holiday! It was an adventure, a culture and a level of heat I had never experienced before (it has never reached 44 degrees in May before!) Marrakech is colourful, wild and lavish and at times ridiculius. There’s a surprise… And young lad telling you ‘that way closed’ around every corner. Would I go back to the Medina? I’m not sure. But if I do, I will make sure to practice my haggling skills for weeks before.
Although morocco is quite clearly a poor country with very poor alongside the ultra wealthy it does seem a place that allows equality and opportunity and for this reason I was reluctant to offer any sort of ‘present’ to a young lad.
Over the six days that I spent in the city, I was glad to experience luxury at the Four Seasons resort, two traditional riads, both very different in their own rights, and the chaotic city. I feel like I have been away for six weeks, not days. And I telly you what, I’m well looking forward to a good bowl of cereal for breakfast in the morning.
We have been to a few supper clubs over the years, some good, some very bad. The first hurdle that is necessary to overcome at such an event is to break the ice with fellow guests. After having sat through a fair few awkward moments in the past, the anticipation of being seated next to complete strangers always makes me slightly nervous. Being in someone else’s house and having to witness their personal artefacts has also been an issue in the past – who wants to see a bottle of femfresh on the side of the bath of someone you don’t know?!
But last weekend Jack and I were introduced to a new (to us) supper club concept. The Novel Diner is the brainchild of food and arts writer Mina Holland and events organiser Claire Coutinho. Each evening is held at a different restaurant or venue around London and is themed on a well known novel. Diners are encouraged to dress up to reflect the period in which the novel is set while enjoying an extensive menu of delicious food, all cooked by Mina and Claire.
The novel for our evening was In Search of Lost Time by Marcel Proust. The menu consisted of truffled asparagus velouté, chicken liver parfait, fried sole with potatoes and green salad, followed by an Époisses and Comté cheeseboard, home made chocolate truffles by ‘I Love Brigadeiros’ and mini Marcel’s Madeleines with tea or coffee to finish.
Upon arrival we were treated to live music from a cellist and violinist and an absinthe cocktail, which consisted of absinthe, water and fresh lemon. Delicious! We sipped our cocktails as we waited the arrival of diners before being seated at a long communal table.
The food was quick to arrive and conversation started to flow. As is often the way at these events, when you put 30 strangers in the same room with not much elbow space, conversation is slow off the mark. But the mood quickly changed after a misunderstanding about Zooey Deschanel’s nicely kept ‘F-ringe’ and we were off. The rest of the evening consisted of raucous laughter, numerous jokes and good food.
The hi light of the evening was the pan fried bass with crisp, fluffy roast potatoes and a sorrel salad. The velvety smooth chicken liver parfait was rich and incredibly delicious smothered on crusty white bread. The choice of cheese on the cheese board was commended and within a few minutes the boards were empty. But somehow everyone had room for the condensed milk truffles and buttery Madeleines to finish. I enjoyed mine dipped into a pool of steaming hot tea.
As we neared the end of our meal, the music started up again and a few of us agreed that we felt like we were sailing on the Titanic. Surreal conversation matched with period outfits and classical music all contributed to an air of nostalgia wafting through the room. We knew it was time to gather our belongings and run for the last tube when one of the guests that was sat at the opposite side of the table unbuttoned his shirt to reveal a tattoo of a naked woman, which seemed to share said guests left nipple. Incredible. The Novel Diner was exciting, new, fresh, creative and most of all, extremely fun. We can’t wait to hear what lies in store for the next evening.
The Novel Diner
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