Azrou

From Meknes, Charlie and I decided to make our way to Fez. However, we were a little medina-ed out. So, we decided to stop in the small town of Azrou in the Middle Atlas. We happened to arrive on market day, when local farmers and shoppers throughout the region descend upon ground just outside Azrou to sell their tomatoes, peppers, herbs, spices, Berber carpets, soaps, and everything else except bread. You can buy a sandwich with bread, but you can't buy bread on its own at this market.

Charlie and I had not eaten when we arrived. He decided to buy a meatball sandwich from one of the food tents. The photo above is of the food preparation area for the sandwich he ate. The meat (beef or lamb, we couldn't figure out which one) was cut from the carcass that hung all day from the tent's rafters. The meat was then fed through a meat grinder that is visible at the far right of the table. The ground meat was then mixed by hand with fresh herbs and onions to form little meatballs that were then grilled on the barbecue on the left. Once done, the meatballs were stuffed into bread that was sliced with a knife that had been used to chop up the meatball mix.

Let it be said that my husband is a brave man. The number of vectors for food-borne illness in the meatball-sandwich-making process is staggering. We estimate that at least four different hands were involved, there is no clean water or refrigeration. And, Charlie's meat balls were undercooked with a distinctly pink in the middle. But he ate it and, I must admit, I had a bite or two, too. And, not only did it not kill us, or even make us sick, it was delicious.