The Best Brochettes I ate in Morocco... or I should say second best behind my mother's brochettes

It was a pure chance.... Indeed, the tenderest and most delicious brochettes I ate during my last trip to Morocco were in a restaurant in the middle of the High Atlas Mountains.

I was driving back from Ouerzezate on a windy, steep and narrow road that traced a straight line in the middle of an arid environment. Then the road became dangerously steep with frightening turns, we were in the High Atlas Mountains. Zachary started to feel sick in the back of the car. Stopping became unavoidable.

After seeing this tiny, so called, restaurant with all the Coca Cola and Fanta signs exhibited outside I stopped the car....

A very pale Zachary got out to have some fresh air and get his colour back. I was greeted by a young man wearing a very gentle smile on his face and a blue Rezza around his head (Turban), he was the cook and the owner. I asked him in Moroccan what were the specials for lunch. With big eyes and a bigger smile, he went straight to the kitchen and came back with a huge steak in his hand. We were the only customers in the restaurant. The restaurant had two small rooms and a kitchen with a large window from where I took the picture of the man preparing our lunch (see picture above). The photo says it all about this minimalist kitchen. In no time, the man diced the meat, cut the chips, tomatoes, onions and made the dressing. The brochettes were barbecued over wood charcoal on a Mejmer (Moroccan braizier). The meal was served to us accompanied with fresh mint tea. We took all our time savouring the brochettes. Zachary looked and felt much better and we hit the road, heading back to Marrakech.

Until now, I never told my mother about those brochettes, not because she makes better ones and she might be offended, but because we were always banned from eating out. She always said to us: " In a restaurant, you never know what you are really served!!!". I admit, in some cases she is right, but not today...