Do we want to try some harira – that’s the classic Ramadan fast-breaker all over Morocco? Or some baisa, which is a local Berber version? Or both, maybe, why not?
We hesitate. It seems bad enough eating at all, never mind greedily wanting to try both. Which we undoubtedly do. But we needn’t have worried: the Mohammeds are positively encouraging us to eat. We need to keep up our strength for our travels, they say. Of course: the wayfarer waiver. Both it is then!
The harira is meaty and thick, a soup your spoon would almost stand up in, flavoursome mutton and chickpeas, plenty of spices and a good half-dozen kinds of vegetable. Seven kinds, actually, says Mohammed the father. – Annie Hawes ‘A handful of honey’
I was alone, they’d gone off for an all-day outing to the planetarium, not my cup of tea at all. I watched a bit of television, but when that prattish James Martin said dee-cee in a French accent, instead of the perfectly acceptable ‘dice’ for chopping potatoes, I got in a huff and went into the kitchen to deal with the leftover lamb from our supper. Harira seemed just the thing to make for my astronomers when they returned from their travels.
And I hauled out Al Stewart’s ‘Year of the cat’ … Nancy’d given me an earworm, thanks girlfriend … what a perfect day, one day – who knows? This one’s for you:
I got the harira recipe here:
In other news, our widower continues to lurk. I’m thinking we may as well give him a name and get him his own food bowl. Seems he’s settling in for a long stay.