the desert

delicious things

While in Dakhla, we filled our bellies with boiled eggs and flatbread with olive oil and cumin for breakfast, the occasional fig, thyme and olive oil jam on crusty bread while on the road, and plenty of seafood and tajines for dinner. There was this wonderful little date-filled pastry (pictured above) that we bought one morning from a bakery that I had been stalking— it never seemed to be open when we we drove by. The pastry was a highlight of the trip as far as food was concerned!



Seafood in Dakhla was another highlight. We often found ourselves indulging in octopus and fish soup at a smokey little joint called Casa Luis.



Now I know this doesn't look very appetizing, but one of the ubiquitous Moroccan dishes that I have come to consider comfort food is the kefta tajine— a clay pot of meatballs simmered in a tomato sauce with an egg for good measure. It's delicious, and pretty much guaranteed to keep you away from any gastrointestinal distress, which is quite common in Morocco. Since tajines, which are dishes named after the distinct clay pot that they are cooked in (a shallow clay pot covered in a cone-shaped top— which you can see behind the tomatoes in this previous post), are simmered on a fire for a significant amount of time, I have found that they are pretty safe to eat. The only cases of horrific bowel distress that I have succumbed to in Morocco came from an accidentally eaten under-cooked shawarma, badly washed raspberries, and a rotisserie chicken. This kefta tajine was lovely, with a little bit of fresh cilantro sprinkled on top:

around dakhla

a market in dakhla

It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust when you enter the market— a humble cement structure with a pock-marked roof of corrugated metal. Harsh sunlight filters in through holes, patterning vegetables, meats and plastic goods with spots of brightness. The air inside smells of spices, earth, and flesh. I wanted to photograph the vendors in their various styles of dress; some in the ordinary street clothes that have become so ubiquitous no matter what country you are in, and some elegant in their cerulean-hued Saharan draa. I wanted to photograph the women gliding by in their patterned melhfa, the metres of brightly coloured fabric artfully wrapped around their bodies, as they selected the perfect oranges or teapots. Alas, each person I asked turned me down, and I was not about to snap away without their permission. The best I could get was an overview shot from a distance:



Maybe one day...

western sahara

Just a little trip down south to the Western Sahara...