While Linda at So Morocco and Amanda at Ourika Organic Kitchen curated the heart of my journey, I relished the freedom to tweak and tailor the experience as inspiration struck (within practical limits, of course). My own research came in handy, too, at Riad Malaika, I was handed a wonderfully handy pocket map, a small gesture that made a world of difference. With it tucked in my pocket, navigating the winding lanes and hidden corners on my second afternoon and evening became a pleasure rather than a puzzle, allowing me to explore with confidence and uncover even more of Essaouira’s magic.
Khlii, also spelled khlea (Arabic: الخليع), is a centuries-old Moroccan method of preserving meat, deeply rooted in the country’s Berber heritage. Developed long before refrigeration, this technique allowed families to store meat in Morocco’s arid climate, ensuring a supply of protein throughout the year, especially after major festivals like Eid al-Adha. The tradition is believed to have originated in Fes, which is still considered the “Capital of Khlii,” before spreading across Morocco and North Africa. The Berbers are credited with introducing this preservation method, which has become an integral part of Moroccan culinary culture, symbolizing both resourcefulness and the art of slow, careful food preparation.
Khlii is typically made from beef or lamb, though camel is sometimes used in southern Morocco. The process begins by cutting the meat into long strips and marinating it in a chermoula—a blend of spices such as cumin, coriander, garlic, and sometimes vinegar and olive oil. The marinated meat is then sun-dried for several days, intensifying its flavor and reducing moisture. Once dried, the meat (now called gueddid) is slowly simmered in a mixture of animal fat (suet) and olive oil, sometimes with added water, until it becomes tender and fully infused with the spices. After cooking, the meat is packed into containers and completely submerged in the rendered fat, which acts as a seal and preservative. Properly stored in a cool, dry place, khlii can last for up to two years at room temperature, making it a reliable pantry staple.
Khlii is more than just a preserved meat; it is a symbol of Moroccan resilience and culinary ingenuity. Traditionally, families would prepare large quantities annually, especially in cities like Fes and Marrakesh, ensuring a supply of protein-rich food throughout the year. In modern Morocco, khlii is considered a delicacy, often enjoyed for its deep, concentrated flavor. It is most famously served with eggs for breakfast, but also finds its way into tagines, soups, salads, and even flatbreads. The rich, smoky aroma and robust taste of khlii evoke nostalgia and a sense of connection to Moroccan heritage, making it a cherished ingredient in both rural and urban kitchens.
Khlii (khlea) with eggs was our Moroccan breakfast for this morning, combining rich, spiced preserved lamb with fresh eggs. The khlii is gently heated in its own fat until fragrant, then eggs are cracked in, either left whole or lightly scrambled. Served hot with Moroccan bread, it’s was a deeply tasty and satisfying way to start the day, bringing together centuries-old tradition and everyday comfort.
After our savoury breakfast, I remembered the generous box of Moroccan pastries we’d bought, when better to indulge? They paired perfectly with a strong black coffee. My favourite was the mhencha, the coiled, wheel-like pastry stuffed with almond paste and delicately scented with orange blossom. Its crisp, golden layers gave way to a rich, nutty filling, utterly delicious and the ideal sweet finish to a memorable morning meal.
The allure of a fish cataplana begins with the stock, a foundation as soulful as the Atlantic breeze. This was the next cooking ‘event’ of the week.
Into a heavy pot, we tumbled thick slices of onion and carrot, their natural sweetness coaxed out as they softened in a shimmer of olive oil. Sliced garlic joined the mix, releasing its gentle perfume and promising warmth in every spoonful. Then came the fish heads and the mighty prawn heads, their briny richness destined to deepen the broth. A bouquet garni of fresh parsley stems was nestled in, a green promise of freshness to balance the sea’s intensity.
Amanda explained the importance of each step, building layer upon layer of delicate flavour. As everything mingled, a generous splash of white wine and a bold dash of cognac were poured in, sending up a fragrant steam, herbaceous, oceanic, and just a little bit wild.
The stock simmered quietly, drawing out every nuance, while anticipation built for the next act: the union of seafood, saffron, and fresh herbs in the cataplana’s embrace. This was more than a recipe, it was a slow, joyful unfolding of aromas and textures, a celebration of the coast in every breath.
While the stock quietly worked its magic, we built another essential layer: onions and ripe tomatoes, sautéed together until soft and jammy, forming a rustic, sun-bright base for the cataplana. When it was time to assemble, the seafood came next, plump prawns and tender squid nestled into the tomato-onion mixture, with thick pieces of bass carefully arranged on top at the very end, ensuring they would steam gently and stay perfectly tender, never overcooked.
A pinch of saffron, along with fresh parsley, promised both colour and aroma. We let everything simmer gently, no need for a dramatic lid or staged photo, just honest, attentive cooking, letting the ingredients speak for themselves as the kitchen filled with the unmistakable scent of the sea and southern sunshine.
To bring balance and a touch of contrast to the soft, yielding seafood and the rich, sun-drenched base, a simple pleasure was in order: bread. A fresh baguette was sliced into generous rounds, destined to become golden and crisp. The slices sizzled in a pan with plenty of butter, a splash of olive oil keeping the richness in check and lending a gentle fruitiness.
Once burnished and fragrant, each piece was rubbed with cut garlic, the warmth coaxing out its mellow bite. The result—crunchy, aromatic toasts—was the perfect counterpoint, ready to soak up the cataplana’s juices and elevate the meal with a satisfying, rustic crunch. Sometimes, it’s these simple touches, shared in good company, that make a feast truly memorable.
Earlier in the day, the clear, bright blue skies signaled the perfect opportunity for an evening visit to the observation point overlooking Essaouira. Keeping in mind the logistics with our driver, we set out promptly at 19:45 to capture the magic of the moment.
As a photography enthusiast, I brought along my trusted gear: a Fuji XT-1, a Leica D-Lux 7, and of course, the ever-reliable iPhone 16 Pro Max. The XT-1 was set to auto mode, snapping a picture every 20 seconds for up to 20 shots, carefully nestled on the stone wall atop a protective blanket. The Leica was mounted on a sturdy tripod, ready for precise framing, while the iPhone was at hand for spontaneous shots amidst the action.
Despite the rather windy conditions, I was ecstatic with the results, capturing the essence of Essaouira’s evening glow with reasonable clarity and artistry.
I’d arrived in Essaouira the afternoon before, the Atlantic breeze ushering me through the medina’s winding lanes. My carossa – the quiet, determined man with his battered two-wheeled cart struggled to find Riad Malaika, its entrance hidden deep within a shadowed alley where not even the afternoon sun could reach. After a few wrong turns, some good-natured directions from locals, and a laugh at our shared confusion, we finally found the heavy wooden door. The riad welcomed me with its cool, tranquil courtyard, a secret oasis in the heart of the city.
Later, as dusk settled over Essaouira, I found myself alone at Butterfly Space. The hum of conversation and the clatter of cutlery were a gentle backdrop to my solitary meal, a plate of something vibrant and local, each bite a quiet celebration of arrival. The flavours lingered, weaving themselves into my first memories of the city.
That night, the riad wrapped me in its calm, the world outside fading into silence behind ancient walls.
At first light, the stillness was broken by a wild chorus of seagulls wheeling above the rooftops, their cries echoing through the medina and tugging me from sleep. Essaouira was waking, and so was I, drawn from dreams by the restless energy of the Atlantic and the city’s salt air. It was Monday, I think, though Morocco has a way of making days blur together. A new day had begun, one filled with promise, the memory of a solitary feast, and the wild, joyful chorus of seagulls overhead.
Breakfast was a delight, a celebration of Moroccan hospitality, almost too generous for the modest table. Jewel-like dried fruits and nuts waited beneath a glass-topped container, inviting discovery with every lift of the lid.
There was fresh bread, still warm and fragrant, perfect for scooping up the star of the morning: Amlou, that magical blend of roasted almonds, golden argan oil, and honey, rich and nutty, its flavour lingering long after each bite.
A single slice of crispy French toast, likely cut from a baguette, added a subtle sweetness and crunch, a golden accent among the morning’s offerings.
A variant of traditional Harcha, the rustic semolina cake, brought a tender, savoury note, its edges just crisp enough to satisfy. A glass of fresh fruit juice, vibrant and cool, stood alongside a beautifully prepared fruit salad, each piece glistening as if kissed by the morning sun.
Black tea, deep and fragrant, was served simply in a cup, its warmth and aroma a gentle comfort, mingling with the scents of homemade jam and honey from tiny pots nearby. A one-egg omelette completed the spread, a quiet companion to the abundance around it, and a reminder that simplicity can be its own luxury.
It was a breakfast to savour slowly, each element a note in a harmonious Moroccan morning, welcoming, generous, and filled with the promise of the day ahead.
As I carried my case down to reception, a gentle summons awaited me, Amanda, my guide and chef, and our driver had just arrived at the city’s edge. The hotel’s own carossa expertly appeared, his two-wheeled cart gliding through the labyrinthine corridors of the medina with a grace born of years navigating these ancient stones. We emerged at the medina’s threshold, where our new driver, Adil, greeted us with a beaming smile; kind, gentle, and unfailingly polite, his calm presence a welcome anchor amid the lively swirl of Moroccan traffic, which always seems to dance somewhere between chaos and choreography.
With my bags stowed in the 4×4, Amanda and I slipped back into the medina’s embrace, eager to explore its secrets and gather fresh produce for the day’s adventures. The morning air was alive with possibility as we wandered between sunlit alleys and cool shadows, pausing to admire the vibrant displays of local shops.
Our first stop, the legendary Pâtisserie Driss, was shuttered for Eid al-Adha, the sweet scent of celebration lingering in the air even as the doors remained closed. Undeterred, we wandered on and soon discovered Pâtisserie Boujemaa, its windows brimming with confections that sparkled like jewels in the morning light.
Stepping inside felt like entering a world of Moroccan enchantment, orange blossom and honey perfuming the air, trays laden with cornes de gazelle, glossy chebakia, crumbly ghoriba, and crisp briouats. Each pastry was a testament to Morocco’s centuries-old tradition of hospitality and artistry. For just 150 dirhams, we left with a full kilogram of these sweet treasures, each bite a celebration in itself, some sweet treats for rest of the week.
We wound our way through the medina’s twisting corridors until we reached one of the main thoroughfares, where our first snack stop awaited: maakouda. We enjoyed them just as they were, fresh from the fryer, golden and crisp, with no need for accompaniments. Eaten plain, the gentle warmth of turmeric and cumin took centre stage, allowing the comforting flavours of these humble potato fritters to truly shine. There’s a special charm in the simplicity of Moroccan street food, and with each bite of maakouda, we tasted that perfect balance of spice and tradition.
Shopping in Morocco is a true adventure for the senses. Here, the focus is on flavour rather than flawless appearance; tomatoes, courgettes, and carrots may not look perfect, but their taste is unbeatable. We delved deep into the medina, venturing into bustling corners where few travellers stray, on a mission to gather ingredients for our culinary explorations. This was a foodie holiday, after all, and Amanda, an exceptionally talented chef, was eager to discover every hidden gem. In one shop, chickens clustered together in a large open box, a scene both fascinating and distinctly local. The vegetable stalls were overflowing with vibrant produce, and we selected earthy beetroots for a trout cure back at the villa, along with fresh courgettes and carrots for the couscous we’d prepare later. Wandering through these tucked-away markets was both fun and eye-opening, the abundance of vegetables, the lively atmosphere, and the remarkably low prices all added to the magic of our Moroccan shopping adventure.
We settled in for a good half hour over a glass of steaming mint tea at a tiny café nestled beside a lively market stall, where great tubs of glossy olives in every shade of green and purple caught our eye. The stall was a paradise for any food lover; mounds of spicy green and red harissa, generous portions of rich, aromatic khlii (Moroccan preserved lamb), and an ever-changing parade of locals stopping by for their daily essentials.
As we lingered over our sweet atay b’naanaa, the air alive with the mingled scents of herbs and spices, we soaked in the vibrant scene. For anyone curious, atay b’naanaa simply means “mint tea” in Moroccan Arabic – atay is tea, and naanaa is mint, so there’s no banana involved, just a fragrant blend of green tea, fresh spearmint, and sugar. Here, at the heart of the medina, surrounded by the raw ingredients of Moroccan cuisine, each sip of tea felt like a celebration, a leisurely pause and a perfect window into daily life before our next culinary adventure.
After the excitement of selecting fresh fish and prawns from the morning’s catch and savouring them perfectly grilled over charcoal, we spent a wonderful few hours exploring the medina’s winding alleys. The markets brimmed with vibrancy, tubs overflowing with glossy olives, heaps of fiery harissa, and generous servings of khlii, all set to the backdrop of everyday Moroccan bustle. Laden with ingredients and inspired by the sights and scents around us, we set off for our next destination: La Fromagerie, an artisan goat’s cheese maker, where we hoped to discover yet another delicious facet of Morocco’s culinary heritage.
Leaving the bustle of Essaouira behind, we set out on a scenic 13-mile journey along the N8, turning onto the R301 as the landscape unfurled before us. Hidden well back from the road, La Fromagerie emerged like a serene oasis—so peaceful that the distant hum of traffic vanished completely. The air was fragrant with blooms from lush gardens, and vibrant flowers framed the entrance, setting the tone for what felt like a secret retreat.
We were welcomed with a fascinating tour of the goat cheese production unit, where the day’s fresh milk was being transformed into creamy rounds of artisan cheese. The resident goats, content and curious, grazed nearby, while chickens scratched in the shade, supplying eggs for the kitchen. It was a beautiful glimpse into the rhythms of living off the land—a place where sustainability and tradition go hand in hand.
The meal at La Fromagerie was a true celebration of local flavours and craftsmanship. We began with a tasting of goat’s cheeses at varying stages of maturity, each one offering its own subtle character and creamy tang. Next came a delightful starter: a round of grilled cheese, its molten centre wrapped in a delicate bread crust and crowned with a tangle of sprouting pulses, simple yet utterly irresistible. Layers of silky aubergine followed, perfectly cooked and infused with just a whisper of tomato and chilli, each bite a harmonious balance of earthiness and warmth. To finish, we savoured ‘lamb mechoui‘, tender, succulent, and deeply flavourful, a dish that lingered long in the memory. Every course was a testament to the art of rustic Moroccan cooking, and together they made for a lunch that was nothing short of perfect.
For those tempted to linger, La Fromagerie also offers charming rooms for an overnight stay, inviting guests to fully immerse themselves in this tranquil corner of rural Morocco.
On our way to Amanda’s villa, we couldn’t resist a stop at Carrefour, a ritual I love when traveling. There’s something fascinating about wandering foreign supermarket aisles, comparing the range of products and prices to those back home. Carrefour’s shelves were stocked with a surprising array of international treats and local staples.
The alcohol section was particularly impressive, boasting a wide selection of beers, wines, and spirits, a reminder of Morocco’s cosmopolitan side. Imported goods, as expected, came at a premium; seeing familiar British biscuits and condiments with their price tags in dirhams was both amusing and eye-opening. The meat counter, however, was nearly bare, a quiet testament to Eid Al-Adha, when families gather and butchers take a holiday. Only a few spicy Merguez sausages remained, hinting at the usual bustle of the market. Visiting a Moroccan hypermarket like Carrefour is more than just shopping, it’s a cultural experience, revealing the rhythms of daily life and the interplay between tradition and modernity.
Our home base for days three to five was Amanda’s beautiful villa outside Essaouira, a whitewashed haven with an airy, open-plan design that struck the perfect balance between light and cool comfort. The spacious kitchen, complete with a generous cooking top and ample prep space, was a dream for any food lover. Outside, a welcoming dining area invited us to linger over meals in the fresh air, while the thoughtful architecture let sunlight pour in without letting the heat intrude. It was the ideal setting for my first Moroccan cooking lesson: couscous, a true labour of love.
Preparing traditional Moroccan couscous with organic, coarse, dark grains is a soulful ritual, steeped in centuries of culinary tradition. It all begins in a wide, shallow gsaa bowl, where the couscous is gently sprinkled with water, a pinch of salt, and a golden drizzle of olive oil. With practiced, gentle hands, the grains are softly rubbed and rolled, their earthy aroma rising as each one is lovingly coated and separated. After a patient rest, the couscous is heaped into the top of a couscoussier, where it steams above a bubbling pot of homemade broth, fragrant with onions, garlic, and a medley of aromatics, perhaps a pinch of saffron or Ras el Hanout. Once the steam has worked its magic, the couscous is tipped out, allowed to cool just enough, and then gently hand rubbed again, breaking up clumps and coaxing the grains to lightness.
This meditative cycle of steaming and gentle hand rubbing is repeated three times, each round drawing out the couscous’s tender, fluffy character without ever becoming sticky. No further water is added after the first step; it is the steam, the touch, and the patience that transform the grains. For the final steaming, we nestled quartered courgettes into the simmering broth, letting their subtle sweetness and fresh green flavor infuse the steam and mingle with the couscous above. When the grains were finally ready, we finished them with a generous knob of butter, folding it through so every grain glistened and carried just a hint of richness.
To serve, we spooned over the meltingly soft onions and vegetables from the broth, then crowned the couscous with golden pieces of fried monkfish, their delicate flavour providing a wonderful contrast to the subtle, fragrant grains. The result was a dish that felt deeply rooted in Moroccan tradition, yet uniquely our own, capturing the spirit of hospitality and the joy of sharing something truly special at the table.
Whilst the couscous was going through its patient, time-honoured ritual, we turned our attention to another culinary experiment I’d long wanted to try: beetroot-cured trout. Earlier that day in Essaouira, we’d picked up some earthy, jewel-toned beetroots, their deep colour promising both flavour and drama. With a quick blitz in the blender, we combined the beetroot with equal measures of salt and sugar, creating a vivid, fragrant cure. We nestled the trout fillets flesh-side down in this mixture, ensuring every surface was in contact with the cure, and left them to work their magic overnight. By the following day, after a gentle rinse to remove the excess salt, we’d have slices of beautifully cured trout, vibrant in colour and delicately seasoned. There’s a special satisfaction in weaving new ideas into a tapestry of tradition, and this little project felt like the perfect companion to our day of slow, soulful cooking.
At last, it was time to sit down and savour the fruits of our labour. Glancing at the timestamps on my photos, I realised we had started at 17:57 and finished at 22:20, a full 4 hours and 23 minutes devoted to creating what was, without a doubt, the tastiest couscous I have ever eaten. The subtle lessons learned along the way were priceless: no shortcuts, no quick-cook grains, just patience, gentle hands, and respect for tradition. The result was light, fluffy, and full of flavour, healthy, satisfying, and a fitting finale to another long day of Moroccan adventure. There’s a special kind of joy in sharing a meal that has been crafted with care, and this couscous was a true celebration of time well spent.
Shukran bzaaf ʿla had nhar zwin, Allah yʿtik sseha ya Chef Amanda!
…………………………….Until next time………………….. L8ers……………………………..
I rose early, the morning light barely touching the horizon, my mind still alive with the magic of the day before. It had been a tapestry of wonder – woven with vibrant culture, unexpected friendships, and unforgettable flavours – each moment more extraordinary than the last. Even as the world outside lay quiet, my thoughts danced with memories of a day that seemed endless in its gifts.
As-salamu alaykum (Peace be upon you), I greeted Haj Brahim as he was laying the table for breakfast and what a spread it was. Fresh coffee, boiled eggs, fresh bread, Amlou, which is Morocco’s beloved nut spread, traditionally made by blending roasted almonds, rich argan oil, and honey into a silky, nourishing paste. Its flavour is uniquely deep and nutty, perfect for dipping bread or drizzling over pancakes. In more affordable versions, peanuts often replace almonds, creating a spread that’s still delicious and widely enjoyed. Whether crafted with almonds or peanuts, Amlou captures the warmth and generosity of Moroccan hospitality in every spoonful.
All too soon, the moment came to bid farewell. I could have lingered another day at Dar Tassa, nestled in the tranquil embrace of al-Houz province, where time seems to slow and every view invites reflection. But the road was calling – Essaouira awaited, with new adventures and promises yet to unfold. With a lingering handshake and heartfelt thanks to my new friend, Haj Brahim, we loaded our bags into the waiting 4×4. As we set off, winding eastward toward Marrakech, the memories of Dar Tassa – its warmth, its wonder, travelled with me, woven into the fabric of the journey ahead.
Our journey began with Hicham – pronounced “Hee-Sham” – whose warmth, quick wit, and expert driving made him an instant favourite. Leaving the rugged beauty of the High Atlas mountains behind, we made our way toward Marrakech, pausing for a delightful detour to gather fresh ingredients, enjoy a leisurely coffee, and meet Amanda’s charming husband and daughter. As we sipped and chatted, I discovered that Amanda’s husband shared my passion for music. I introduced him to the band Arena – a new discovery for him – and was delighted to see his immediate enthusiasm. There’s a special joy in sharing music and watching it spark a connection, and that simple moment felt truly brilliant.
As we cruised up the RN8 from Marrakech toward Essaouira in early June, the landscape gradually shifted from the ochre plains to a mosaic of cultivated fields and scrubby woodland. Along this route, we passed neat rows of cabbages and potatoes – common crops in the region at this time of year – thriving in the fertile, sun-warmed soil. Before long, the scenery became increasingly dotted with the gnarled, silvery-green forms of argan trees, their twisted branches a distinctive feature of the countryside between the western High Atlas foothills and the Atlantic coast. This is the heart of Morocco’s argan belt, where these ancient, drought-resistant trees grow almost exclusively, providing livelihoods for local communities and producing the prized oil found in both kitchens and cosmetics around the world. The approach to Essaouira is marked by these iconic argan groves, a living testament to the region’s unique natural and cultural heritage.
I was endlessly captivated by the rhythm of daily Moroccan life unfolding along the roadside – the fruit vendors arranging pyramids of vibrant produce, the butchers with their cuts of meat swaying gently in the cool shade, all framed by the golden sun. As we journeyed onward, small towns would suddenly emerge from the landscape, bustling with people immersed in their everyday routines. In the blink of an eye, these lively scenes slipped past our windows, growing smaller and softer in the rear view mirror, like fleeting glimpses into a thousand untold stories woven across the Moroccan countryside.
It was definitely time for some food when we pulled off the road just outside Sidi L Mokhtar, drawn to the welcoming glow of Café Restaurant Sahara, open around the clock. There, we savoured brochettes de viande hachée – Moroccan skewers of seasoned minced beef, grilled over hot coals until smoky and tender. Each tender bite was perfectly complemented by crisp frites and a vibrant medley of courgettes, carrots, and green beans, their colours bright against the plate. As we lingered over the meal, I sipped strong black tea, its warmth and depth the perfect companion to the flavours before me. In that simple roadside café, with good company and honest food, the spirit of Morocco felt wonderfully alive.
Next stop was Arganomade; Arganomade is a women-run argan oil cooperative near Essaouira, Morocco, renowned for its authentic, high-quality argan oil and traditional products like amlou and argan honey. Visitors can tour the cooperative to see the entire production process, from hand-cracking the nuts to pressing the oil, and learn about the sustainable, waste-free methods used. Buying directly from Arganomade supports local women with fair wages and economic independence, while ensuring you receive pure, genuine argan products. The cooperative offers a welcoming, educational experience and a meaningful connection to Morocco’s rich Berber heritage.
Argan oil is so costly because it’s truly rare and painstakingly crafted. The argan tree grows only in a small corner of Morocco, and each drop of oil is the result of hours of skilled, manual work – harvesting, cracking the hard nuts, and pressing the precious kernels. It takes around 40 kilograms of fruit and up to 20 hours to produce just one litre. Add to this the oil’s global demand and the fact that it supports local women’s cooperatives, and it’s easy to see why argan oil is often called “liquid gold.”
The making of argan oil is a meticulous, multi-step craft. First, the argan fruit is collected and sun-dried until the outer fleshy husk can be removed. Beneath lies a hard inner shell, which is cracked open by hand to reveal the small, precious kernels within. These kernels are then either gently roasted (for culinary oil) or left raw (for cosmetic oil), before being slowly cold-pressed to release the golden oil. Each stage, from husk to kernel to oil, is carried out with care, yielding a product as rare as it is exquisite.
As we approached Essaouira it was warm but misty, we had a photo stop at the The best panoramic viewpoint overlooking Essaouira known locally as the “Panorama d’Essaouira” or “Belvédère d’Essaouira,”. It’s found on a hill along the N1 road just a few kilometres outside the city. This popular stop offers sweeping views of the medina, the historic ramparts, and the Atlantic coastline, making it a favourite for travellers and tour groups arriving from Marrakech. While it doesn’t have an official monument or sign, simply asking for the panoramic viewpoint or “belvédère” will lead you to this breath-taking vantage point for that iconic first glimpse of Essaouira from above.
In the mid-19th century, Essaouira’s bastions faced the thunder of European warships, most notably during the French bombardment of 1844, when cannons like this one stood ready to defend the city from attack. Today, as I framed my photograph down the length of an old gun barrel, fishing boats dotted the distant sea – peaceful silhouettes where once hostile ships might have loomed. The contrast between the tranquil life of fishermen and the city’s dramatic, war-torn past is a vivid reminder of Essaouira’s enduring spirit.
Disappointed by the lack of decent guidebooks on Essaouira, I took matters into my own hands and had crafted a personal guide, brimming with must-see locations – each chosen for its history, culinary allure, photogenic charm, or simply as a window into daily Moroccan life. My list included the windswept Skala de la Ville, its cannons overlooking the Atlantic just a ten-minute stroll from Riad Malaika; the lively Moulay Hassan Square, perfect for people-watching and only five minutes away; and the bustling fish market, a sensory feast less than fifteen minutes on foot. With dinner reserved for 21:00 at Butterfly Space, a vibrant local restaurant at 16 rue Laalouj just around the corner from my riad, I set out to explore Essaouira’s treasures, each step promising a new story and a deeper connection to this enchanting coastal city.
Essaouira’s port is the city’s beating heart – a place where centuries of maritime history, multicultural exchange, and daily life converge. From dawn, fishermen haul in their catch of sardines, red prawns, and lobster, while the air fills with the irresistible aroma of street food: fish grilled over charcoal and seasoned with chermoula, served simply with cumin and harissa. The port’s bustling fish market is a sensory feast, where locals and visitors gather at communal tables to share the freshest seafood, echoing the city’s tradition of breaking bread together, something Amanda and I did the following day.
Beyond the port, Essaouira’s medina and markets are alive with colour and energy. Vendors in the souks offer everything from msemen (flaky flatbread) and sweet chebakia to fragrant spices and hand-carved thuya woodwork. Bab Marrakech’s market square is a hub for street food – grilled brochettes, merguez sausages, and spongy baghrir pancakes – while the artisan quarters overflow with textiles, ceramics, and silver jewellery. These markets are more than places to shop; they are living museums of Essaouira’s cultural blend, where Berber, Jewish, Arab, and European influences meet in every bite and every bargain.
The port’s significance reaches far beyond commerce. Its blue boats, built with traditional Berber techniques, are iconic symbols of the city, and its ramparts – lined with cannons bearing Spanish and Dutch crests – speak of a dramatic past. Today, the port and its markets remain the soul of Essaouira, a crossroads where the rhythms of the sea, the sizzle of street food, and the vibrant pulse of local life come together in a uniquely Moroccan harmony.
The medina of Essaouira is a living symphony, its winding blue-and-white lanes alive with the pulse of daily life. I wandered through this enchanting maze, eager to capture its every nuance – the salt-laden sea breeze mingling with the scent of spices, the laughter of children darting between market stalls, and the hypnotic rhythm of artisans shaping thuya wood into treasures. I paused to watch street vendors expertly ladle batter onto hot plates, conjuring up golden baghrir pancakes, their honeycomb surfaces glistening in the afternoon light. Every corner offered a new vignette: a fisherman mending his nets, a weaver at her loom, the gentle hum of conversation beneath the ancient ramparts.
Respectful of local traditions, I moved quietly, letting the city’s soul seep into my own. As the sun dipped lower, painting the medina in warm, golden tones, I felt my feet ache and my hunger grow insistent. Drawn by the promise of a good meal and the comforting glow of Butterfly Space just around the corner, I made my way through the bustling streets. Though it was only 19:00, I was ravenous—ready to feast not just on the food, but on the magic and spirit of Essaouira itself, a city that sings in every stone, every scent, and every smile..
Thinking about the days ahead, my mind danced with possibilities – Essaouira’s reputation for culinary delight had already set my expectations soaring. Butterfly Space welcomed my spontaneous change of plans with effortless grace, and soon I found myself at a table, anticipation building. My meal began with a goat cheese and honey salad that arrived with the grandeur of a main course.
The plate was a vibrant canvas: crisp lettuce and ribbons of red cabbage mingled with juicy slices of pear, each bite crowned with creamy, tangy goat cheese and drizzled with golden honey. Scattered throughout were bursts of sharp-sweet raspberry and a generous sprinkling of toasted nuts, adding both crunch and complexity. Every forkful was a revelation – fresh, harmonious, and utterly satisfying. In that moment, I knew without doubt: Essaouira had worked its magic once again, serving up the best salad I have ever tasted!
The main course I chose was a fillet of John Dory – delicate in flavour and simply presented – accompanied by a colourful array of vegetables and a generous portion of potatoes, cut finer than classic fries and served in a charming chip basket. As a devoted fish lover who often cooks it at home, I noticed the fillet was just a touch overdone for my preference, though it remained thoroughly pleasant. Perhaps I’m being overly particular; at the equivalent of just £13, it was exceptional value for such a prized fish. Out of curiosity, I later researched John Dory prices in the UK and found that a dish like this would easily cost more than two and typically over three times as much at most reputable restaurants. All in all, it was a memorable meal—one that spoke to the honest, unpretentious charm of Essaouira’s dining scene.
As I wandered back to Riad Malaika, the gentle evening breeze carried with it the echoes of the past two days – though time seemed to blur, stretching with the richness of each experience. My mind drifted through sunlit alleyways, the laughter in the medina, the sizzle of street food, and the salt tang of the Atlantic air. I found myself replaying the warmth of every encounter: the genuine smiles, the easy generosity, and the infectious good humour of the Moroccan people in Essaouira. Had it really been just two days? It felt as if I had stepped into a story that had always been waiting for me, woven from kindness, colour, and the timeless rhythm of the city by the sea.
It was the dawn of January 2025, and a restless energy stirred within me. Work had been exhilarating -truly rewarding – but the relentless pace of the past few months left my mind yearning for a change of scenery. I count myself incredibly fortunate to have a family who not only understands my passions but celebrates them. As a gesture of gratitude, they gift me an annual passport to adventure: a chance to slip away on my own and immerse myself in new cultures and flavours. This cherished tradition began in 2013 with a soul-stirring journey to Puglia, and each year since, it has become my way to recharge, reflect, and rediscover the world – and myself.
In the early hours of September 8, 2023, the tranquil mountain communities near Dar Tassa were shaken to their core by Morocco’s most powerful earthquake in over a century. Centered in Al-Haouz province, this magnitude 6.9 quake unleashed violent tremors that tore through the High Atlas, toppling centuries-old homes and flattening entire villages nestled along rugged slopes.
The devastation was profound: roads became impassable, isolating survivors and delaying the arrival of aid, while families – many of whom depended on livestock and small-scale tourism, were left to sift through rubble in search of loved ones and remnants of their lives. In these remote valleys, where poverty and resilience intertwine, the earthquake’s scars run deep, marking a tragedy that will shape the region’s future for generations. There were at least 30 deaths in the village of Tassaouirgane, my 1st stop on my next food and culture trip.
I usually take great pride in crafting my own journey – my last adventure to Venice was a labour of love that unfolded over more than a year of meticulous planning. This time, however, I didn’t have the luxury of endless months; I was determined to set out in May or June. After hours of scouring the internet, a handful of enticing options emerged. Morocco had already captured my imagination based on a previous trip, but finding someone I could trust to meet my exacting standards was another matter entirely. I pour not just money, but precious vacation time and anticipation into these escapes, so choosing the right partner was essential. In the end, my decision hinged on responsiveness and intuition – who replied swiftly, and who truly understood what I was seeking?
So Morocco are a small, independent UK registered ‘Moroccan’ Holiday company providing high-quality, private tours of Morocco. Looking through the itineraries I found the kind of ‘vibe’ I was looking for so I quickly fired off an email to see what could be done within my budget, the response was impressive both in speed and content.
By mid January the contract was sealed, a few emails, a couple of adjustments and the itinerary was set. I booked my flights to make sure that I could get to Morocco and back, and now had a 5 day two centre trip, with my own driver (actually two), and the continued services of one Amanda (Chef/Guide), and wow, was she something extra extra special as all will become clear. The trip aligned with the end of Eid al-Adha.
Eid al-Adha, the Festival of Sacrifice, is a radiant celebration of faith, compassion, and unity observed by Muslims worldwide. Marking the culmination of the Hajj pilgrimage, it honours Prophet Ibrahim’s devotion and willingness to sacrifice, reminding us of the virtues of selflessness and gratitude. Families gather in joy, sharing festive meals and acts of charity, weaving together tradition and togetherness in a spirit of peace and generosity.
Linda, the owner of So Morocco also has a couple of other Morocco focussed businesses, Walking with Nomads and My Nomadic Kitchen each of their experiences promises a truly unique “off-grid” adventure, either venturing into the Sahara, or new food learning opportunities, from comprehensive showcase meal lessons to quick spice mix demos and snack preparations for your next picnic lunch. Experience the authenticity of Moroccan cooking by preparing meals over hot coals, savouring the flavours in their most natural state. .
The range of options is wonderfully diverse—spanning different locations, budgets, durations, and activities – yet every journey is designed to be sustainable in nature and gentle in its impact. Whether you find yourself living alongside nomadic tribes, learning from rural craftspeople, connecting with remote cooperatives, or engaging with pioneering professionals, environmental conservation remains at the heart of every trip. The impact is multi-layered, nurturing Morocco’s delicate natural heritage with genuine respect and care.
I’d be honoured to introduce you to Haj Brahim our host for the 1st evening, owner of Dar Tassa. The title “Haj” (also spelled “Hajj” or “El-Haj”) in the name Haj Brahim is a mark of deep respect in many Muslim cultures, including Morocco, signifying that Brahim has completed the sacred pilgrimage to Mecca – one of the Five Pillars of Islam and a profound spiritual achievement. Adding “Haj” before a name honours both religious devotion and community esteem.
After the pilgrimage, men are called “Haj” and women “Hajja,” followed by their given name. The name “Brahim” is the Arabic form of Abraham, a revered prophet in Islam, Judaism, and Christianity, symbolizing faith and devotion. Thus, “Haj Brahim” means “Abraham, who has performed the Hajj,” reflecting both spiritual accomplishment and a name rich in tradition. He was a beautiful kind soul that had spent 30 years in the UK, and had a brilliant sense of humour.
Nestled in a tranquil corner of Toubkal National Park, just over an hour from Marrakech, Dar Tassa is an eco-friendly mountain retreat whose name – “The Home of Motherly Love” – captures the warmth and welcome that awaits every guest.
Framed by soaring Atlas peaks and wild, unspoiled nature, this charming guesthouse offers a haven from city life, blending modern comforts with the timeless hospitality of the Berber people. Floor-to-ceiling windows flood the interiors with light and breath-taking mountain views, while the soothing fountain at its heart invites quiet reflection. Whether you seek gentle strolls through the valley, exhilarating alpine adventures, or simply a peaceful terrace to savour traditional Moroccan cuisine, Dar Tassa is a doorway to both relaxation and discover – a place where “marhaba” is not just a greeting, but a way of life.
As we arrived, Haj Brahim greeted us with a warm smile and a gesture steeped in tradition “hleb b tmar” (حليب بالتمر) or “halib bil tmar”- a glass of cool, creamy milk accompanied by plump, sweet dates. This simple offering, cherished by the Amazigh as a symbol of welcome and blessing, was his way of sharing both hospitality and heritage. In that gentle moment, the spirit of the mountains and the generosity of their people were beautifully, deliciously revealed.
I was shown to my room – Studio Toukbal – the finest suite available, boasting a breath-taking view that swept down the valley, a panorama so stunning it felt almost otherworldly. After a delicious lunch – one so memorable I forgot to photograph it in my eagerness for the adventures ahead – I began my afternoon with a captivating demonstration: the art of crafting a unique, traditional bread.
In the High Atlas Mountains, the Amazigh – Morocco’s indigenous Berber people – bake their beloved ‘tanort’ bread in a clay wood-fired oven called a ‘takat’. This rustic flat round loaf, enriched with aromatic fennel seeds, is a hallmark of Amazigh hospitality. The name “Amazigh” means “free people,” and their bread, with its golden crust and fragrant, smoky flavour, beautifully embodies the warmth and enduring spirit of their mountain culture. It was delicious.
Amanda, the extremely gifted New Zealand chef who has called Morocco home for over twenty-three years, welcomed me into the Dar Tassa kitchen in Tassaouirgane with genuine warmth and expertise. Against the backdrop of the Atlas foothills, she showed me how to craft a goat tagine, using her own homemade, organic ras el hanout – a fragrant blend of rose petals and mountain spices.
As the tagine started to simmer, Amanda’s stories of embracing Amazigh traditions and sustainable living mingled with the rich aromas, making the experience a true celebration of Moroccan heritage and her remarkable culinary journey. It was 16:23 when we started the cooking process, placing the Tagine on its stand, known as a majmar (مِجْمَر) which in Moroccan Arabic literally means a brazier or charcoal burner.
As the Tagine simmered gently, filling the air with the promise of rich, layered flavours, Haj Brahim invited us to stroll through the village -a place marked by both the scars of the 2023 earthquake and the resilience of its people. Wandering the quiet paths, we witnessed not only the visible traces of destruction but also the heartfelt efforts to rebuild and restore the community’s spirit. On this poignant afternoon, at the close of the Muslim festival, I hesitated to take lots of photographs, sensing that no image could truly convey the emotional weight of what we experienced. Some moments, I realized, are best preserved in memory, where their true significance quietly endures. The image above vividly reveals the volcanic past, with the distinctive shapes of ancient molten rock visible near the centre at the top.
Bejloud, also known as Boujloud or Bilmawen, is a vibrant Amazigh (Berber) festival celebrated in Morocco after Eid al-Adha. Participants, often young men, dress in the pelts of sheep or goats sacrificed for Eid, don masks or paint their faces, and parade through the streets with music, dance, and playful antics. Sometimes called “Morocco’s Halloween,” Bejloud has roots in pre-Islamic rituals celebrating nature’s cycles and the balance of good and evil. The festival blends theatrical performance, social commentary, and communal blessing, as those in costume interact with the crowd, believed to ward off evil spirits and bring good fortune. Today, Bejloud remains a cherished tradition, uniting communities in joy and connecting them to Morocco’s rich cultural heritage.
As we wandered through Tassaourigane, we were greeted with warmth at every turn – villagers celebrating, children laughing and fleeing the playful ‘men with horns’, and joy filling the streets. Out of respect, I took just one photograph, with our host’s permission, capturing a home that had in some way, only just weathered the 2023 earthquake.
Soon, a local youth leader and his brothers, known to our host, beckoned us in for coffee. We followed them into a simple home with visible cracks, fixed with mortar, where we sat together on a large open terrace soaking in the setting sun behind us, and taking in the genuine hospitality of these humble, kind-hearted people, a memorable experience never to forget.
It was time to carry on the walk, our Tagine was cooking and we still had some places to see. I am going to leave the afternoon in the air, the village of Ouirgane is beautiful, and at the start of the Jebel Toukbal trail, I subsequently discovered a close friend, an artist had stayed there, in the same Dar Tassa in 2009.
Just as we were about to gather around the table and savour our Tagine, a sense of anticipation filled the air. The security cameras flickered to life, revealing lights weaving their way along the path. From the terrace, we glimpsed flashlights bobbing in the darkness, heard voices approaching, and caught the distant, hypnotic beat of a drum. Haj Brahim turned to us with a smile and asked if we would welcome visitors. With eager hearts, we agreed—and in that moment, we were graced with the magic of Bejloud. Before our eyes, the ancient celebration unfolded: vibrant costumes, rhythmic drumming, and spirited dancing transformed the night into a living tapestry of tradition. The hand-beaten drums echoed through the air, drawing us into the heart of Moroccan culture. It was a truly unforgettable experience, a rare and wonderful gift that connected us to the soul of the community.
As our newfound friends melted into the night, their laughter and the distant pulse of Bejloud drums lingering on the breeze, a gentle calm settled over us. It was time to gather and savour the Goat Tagine, which had been quietly simmering since 16:23, its rich aroma weaving through the air like a promise. After five and a half hours, the meat was impossibly tender, yielding at the slightest touch. By the soft glow of evening, the three of us shared the meal in the timeless tradition – no knives or forks, only the crisp, smoky tafernout bread to cradle each fragrant morsel. The food was exquisite, but it was the moment itself – bathed in warmth, tradition, and quiet wonder – that made it truly magical.
Sadley, it was my last day in Venice, the week had flown by. I was still working through the itinerary and thoroughly loving a complex mixture of art, architecture, history, culture and the odd bite to eat. Tonight was the pinnacle of the week from a food perspective, but there were still things to see and do.
Like ‘The Fisherman’ an amazing overbearing structure shown in the middle picture above. The artist, Tom Herck is Belgian and has produced some mind blowing, but unconventional public art installations all over the world. This one was really impressive.
Navigating the Grand Canal, watching Venice’s pace of life was intoxicating, the Fish Market, The terrace of the restaurant ‘Bancogiro’ that I had previously eaten in and ‘Chiesa Di San Stae’, my water bus stop for the next point of interest, the church was closed on Fridays!
The museum of the ‘Palazzo Moncenigo’ was absolutely fascinating. A study centre for Textiles, Costumes and Perfumes it is currently showing the very costumes used in the Epic Film Marco Polo, celebrating the 700th anniversary of Marco Polo’s death, on 8 January 1324.
Stunning paintings adorned the walls, they were everywhere, from British royalty to battle scenes the artwork was stunning. The Perfume section gave an insight into the techniques used in producing the various oils and distillates used in the production of early ‘smells’, a large table laden with vessels and bowls provided the chance to sniff some of the ingredients used, very intoxicating.
Cabinets were full of perfume phials, ornate and precious in their own right, they would have been used for dispensing the various eau de cologne onto the wrist or neck.
Some were unbelievable intricate and obviously made by artists with exceptional skills, the perfume section actually made you think how they managed to produce such wonderful ‘works of art’.
There was a largish flat screen tv showing the RAI produced epic, Marco Polo in the main hall. In adjacent rooms, manikins adorned with the most intricate costumes were on display, the work of Enrico Sabbatini, an extremely talented costume designer, born in 1932 he is associated with a significant number of famous films, the costumes were astounding.
Squero Casal dei Servi is a hidden gem, if you manage to get a visit arranged, It’s more of a preservation project, Gondolers, and well hidden, I managed to find it and unfortunately no one was in! Another brilliant project is Row Venice, the website says “Row Venice is a non-profit organization of passionate women and expert vogatrici, Venetian by birth and by choice. We are dedicated to the preservation of the traditional Venetian cultura acquea and at its center, the voga alla veneta, the Venetian style of rowing: standing up, facing forward, native to Venice and made iconic by the gondoliers. Many of us are also athletes and regatanti, racing all season long and devoted to this Venetian sport that’s as old as the city itself.” Your can see them top right, I noticed several showing people how to ‘row the boats’, their HQ was near to my next stop.
Maybe you guessed it, back to see that church with Tintoretto paintings, wow wow wow, they were magnificent. The architecture was stunning, the paintings had so much power, reverence they took my breath away, it was worth coming back to see the resting place of an amazing artist and his works, and it was empty, no people!
Campo dei Mori, with its almost triangular shape is the location of the Statues of the Moors. It is thought these 3 silk merchants came to Venice in 1112 and built the Palazzo Mastelli. There is a fourth statue on the front left of Tintoretto’s house on Rio Della Sense, take a look back at post no.6 and click on the picture to expand it, and you will see the turban headed statue. Time for a bite to eat!
Yet another very carefully chosen restaurant was Ostaria Da Rioba, just around the corner from the Church and Statues, carefully planned for its perfect location next to the canal, I ate inside!
I managed to capture the chefs in their natural habitat, at a table eating their own food before service. This is another one of those ‘gems’ worth travelling to, the food was simple and damn delicious. The home made reginette pasta, the long usually too thick with crinkled edges one, was slightly less rugged, more delicate and definitely home made, the pasta was bathed in a delightful Guinea Fowl Ragu with dried Plums, It was glorious and rich.
Being a fish person mostly, the Tuna was too tempting, done Tataki style with Black Sesame Seeds it was the days special, the Rialto Fish Market was obviously doing its thing, providing the best fresh produce with the restaurants taking advantage, I am glad they did, it was wowzer.
As I have previously said, ALL the restaurants I ate in during my epic visit to Venice where chosen for a reason, they were all outstanding irrespective of cost and rating, they all delivered on value, service, quality of food, menu choices, I had reserved the icing on the cake for the last night, The 2 Michelin star Restaurant GLAM nestled inside the Palazzo Venart Luxury Hotel.
Let’s say it WAS an experience, an epic experience, one that I had not felt before. Don’t go and have the full tasting menu you have eaten lunch, that’s all I can say, there is a LOT of awesome food to tackle.
The dining room is delightful, overlooking a beautiful garden, the restaurant seats a maximum of 30 people, it was very serene with background music at an appropriate level. Sharp dressed staff performed an amazing act all evening, timing the delivery of dishes to each table like a well rehearsed theatre, ensuring everyone had the experience of a lifetime.
It would take me too long to describe each dish, The use of local flowers and herbs, delicate but punchy favours, perfectly matched by the sommeliers wine, beer and tea choice, service was impeccable as you would expect, the ‘experience’ lasted nearly 4 1/2 hours and I could not manage dessert!
Each picture should expand if you select it with your mouse, so you should get a close in view, the artistry was just off the planet, it was truly brilliant.
That was it, job done, I had Eaten Venice and managed to stay clear of crowds, the experience had been mind blowing. Everything had been perfect, planning worked, food, well you have seen the pictures. The Tribute To Music Residenza had been the perfect base, the various trips to museums, churches, important sights had been delightful.
In the Cannaregio Sestiere there sits an ancient and historic settlement dating back to 1513. The jury is still out over the origin of the word “ghetto”. It is spelled in various different ways in old documents – ghèto, getto, ghetto, geto – but often indicates the place in which Jews were enclosed, first in the Ghetto Nuovo and then in the Ghetto Vecchio, in Venice.
The “tract of land called the getto or the ghetto was the seat of the public foundries where bombards were cast (gettate in Italian)” and so “the place was called el getto because it contained over 12 foundries and bronze was cast there”. The word Ghetto thus appears to come from the name of the island on which the old foundries were situated.
Todays adventure was to start at the Arsenale Water Bus Stop, taking the No.1 to S.Marcuola – Casino, and then a short stroll to the ‘Ghetto” but a detour was included to see a unique bridge, the ‘Ponte Dei Tre Arche’, the only three arch bridge in Venice which was 5 minutes from Campo Di Ghetto Nuovo.
I have to admit the bridge was strangely impressive, I managed to hide the considerable repair work being done behind the structure along the canal, lots of bright orange barriers and netting spoiling the view.
It was very considerate for a ‘working barge’ to be travelling in the right direction, old and new, historic and modern, well the modern was also an interpretation of history, carrying goods the old fashion way with the assistance of an engine! The detour was worth it.
Wandering around I noticed Gam Gam, it was signposted on my home made itinerary, next door to the famous local Italian Jewish restaurant was a well known baker, producing traditional fare, the pastries looked amazing but today I had to be careful as there were two more restaurants booked, more of that later! The bakers is cash only, been family run for years and everything is animal fat free.
I had decided very early on that I loved Venice, much as I love the other places I have visited it has its own unique charm, lots of history and great food (and coffee). The next item on the itinerary was a visit to Madonna dell’Orto via the house of Tintoretto, a very famous Venetian artist who I had never heard of, the story was fascinating as was the history of religion and its various unusual, and unique orders.
The Church of the Madonna dell’Orto is certainly one of the most important monuments of Venice, among the unmissable of the Cannaregio district. The sanctuary was built around 1350 at the behest of the Humiliati congregation, led at the time by friar Tiberio da Parma: the new building was dedicated to God, to the Blessed Virgin and to Saint Christopher, protector of traveler’s.
It’s got quite a few Tintoretto paintings, he is buried there, the paintings are stunning. Ah yes, you read it correctly, the Humiliati, I had to double check that when I read it the first time. An interesting religious order. Approaching the church a lady beckoned, there was a funeral taking place, I left for lunch with plans to return.
The bridge in the top left above is the Ponte Chiodo another unique structure as it’s the entrance to a B&B, £610 for 4 nights in September, canal view with a great breakfast, prices as of June 2024, nice. You will notice the lack of parapet, the only bridge of this type in Venice, the rooms look extremely nice. Walking to the lunchtime venue was a delight as it took me via the Rialto Market, fresh fish galore, and fruit and vegetables looking so vibrant and appealing.
It was interesting to see Grey Mullet (picture next to the blue crabs above), they are a bottom feeder and considered a ‘muddy’ fish, very rarely seen on British menus I believe, the swordfish was sadly majestic, the Monkfish tails separated from their ugly and grimacing heads. I adore fish so despite some carnage, it was so nice to see local fish on sale, fresh as fresh and likely to be cooked and eaten within 24 hours maximum.
Trattoria ‘Antiche Carampane’ is another one of the ‘must do’ restaurants. Every morning, Francesco and Adriano shop the Rialto market for the freshest ingredients. They only serve seasonal offerings from the Venetian lagoon and its surrounds, I sat outside, it was going to be a wonderful lunch. The restaurant has been cooking up a storm since 1983 and is definitely one to book, I did so on the 1st March to guarantee a table.
The fish was the freshest I have ever eaten, the raw platter served with some proper Wasabi with a serious punch, and a Yoghurt and herb ‘dip’, stunning fresh langoustine, prawn, tuna it was all glistening and so so ‘alive’.
The main course was another local fish, cooked perfectly with some vegetables, like a ratatouille. For wine, I ventured to Austria and a Pinot Blanc from Andreas Gsellmann which matched beautiful. The restaurant has a cookery book, I now have a signed cookery book and eaten another smashing meal. Thank-you to everyone at Antiche Carampane for such a delightful and pleasant experience I shall never forget.
The trip back to the hotel for the obligatory relax during the late afternoon enabled some more sights and scenes to be captured, like the fish market building, St. Marks from the Lagoon, that definitely leaning tower and some musicians enticing patrons to part with a significant amount of cash to relax, listen and drink simultaneously.
It was soon time to venture out to the evenings extravaganza at GIO’s, situated in the St.Regis Hotel to the west of St Marks square. I had booked quite a late seating, 21:00, but the advantage of the best table in the house was well worth it, wow.
The tasting menu was beckoning me, with wine flight, let’s see what this chef is capable of.
Oh yes, what a chef. The tasters at the top were Flak and Sunflower Seeds Chips, seriously, they were ridiculously tasty, the fried artichoke was crispy and full of flavour, Raw and Marinated ‘Otregano’ on a fish bone shaped cracker, another tasty morsel.
Dish after dish, the chefs skill was obvious like sweet & sour pheasant in ravioli, a meat take on sardines en saor I had eaten earlier in the week, Charcoal Grilled Octopus, tender and delish, Guinea Fowl Terrine, every plate of food was as good as the previous, the wine pairings equally wonderful.
I can be a restaurants worst nightmare, insomuch as I sometimes ask for details of the menu to be written down, those ‘chefs tasters’ that are never on the menu so I can remember them later. GIO’s were wonderful and so accommodating, adding the wine choices and also getting the signature of the Chef, Sommelier etc. such a lovely personal touch.
Like all the restaurants I had eaten in so far GIO’s had delivered in its own unique way, service was delightful, food was stunning, wine pairings perfectly matched the food.
Wandering back past St Marks Square I took the chance to enjoy the peace, lack of people and stunning architecture. I think Venice shows its true beauty at night.
I had one of those queue busting tickets for the Palazzo Ducale, the Doge’s Palace, I had visited before a few years back, a distant memory it rained that day but for some reason it hadn’t stuck in my mind like other memories do.
The legend of sotoportego dei Preti is worth spending a few minutes trying to Iocate, its story romantic and haunting. I read the story, wandered and found the famous ‘stone’.
Wednesday fulfilled some of the wishes that Tuesday did not deliver. Wandering though the streets and alleyways the planning was working well, the first major stop was to be The Basilica dei Santi Giovanni e Paulo, where 25 of Venices Doges are buried.
But before that, a small sojourn to another famous, and food related destination, Cafe Rosa Salva, in existence since 1879 and 4 different locations to choose from, the one I had a snack stop at was right next to the Basilica, perfecto.
Delicious coffee and delightfully patisserie the coffee did its stuff and the cake was a delicious energy booster, as usual, the pigeons and seagulls were in full swing, eying their targets with precision, the customer behind me lost his croissant in seconds, it was sadly amusing.
The Basilica is nothing short of stunning, I was really taken aback by the atmosphere, reverence and majesty of what is an absolutely massive structure. By the way, Venice does have quite a few public toilets and freshwater fountains where you can fill you water bottles safely, for free, The toilets have a small charge. Download the app WC Venice and you will never be caught short.
It was around 10:00, the Basilica was open and very empty, just how I prefer things. I spent at least 45 minutes to 1 hour wandering around, looking at the paintings, architecture and finally, an original and old, Doges chair. It was a memorable visit, I managed to get lots of pictures and the website linked above in the text will take you to the official site with lots more information available, the Basilica is also on Instagram!
Wandering through the streets opened the eyes to such wonderful, and eye catching views, the villa above left, 3 sides surrounded by water, also the location of a famous film scene. Gondoliers were carrying partners, loved ones and those who were maybe to ask that special question, whilst gently navigating the canals of such a romantic and legendary city.
Who needs a crowded and fully booked DFS department store when you can have Scala Contarini del Bovolo, quiet, and with some magnificent views over the city, all for €8 and booking is not required if you pick a quiet time to visit, I was there at 11:45. It was stunning, the architecture interesting, I was starting to notice strengthening bars on many of the buildings to help stabilise them, like in the middle picture above.
It was that time again, lunchtime and a special treat was in store. Enoteca Al Volto has been serving traditional Venetian food for years, since 1936, local dishes some might consider challenging due to their simple, and unusual flavours and textures. Cicchetti (small snacks on bread) and Ombre (small glasses of wine) feature heavily as well as traditional dishes such as Sarde in Saor with Polenta, my chosen starter and a must have, Spaghetti Vongole (clams), served simply with some bread, both dishes were delicious, a ‘must do’ stop to experience a tradition going back for years.
After a later than usual lunch, back to the hotel for some rest before the next food experience after a short trip down the Granda Canal. There are many palaces lining the canal, the one above is most catching, with mosaics of Murano glass applied in 1886. Palazzo Barbarigo has some interesting history, the hyperlink will help you learn more.
Osteria Bancogiro was going to prove to be another brilliant choice, located close to the Rialto Bridge and market it has a terrace overlooking the Grand Canal, which, when the weather is not too windy, or its not tipping with rain is a perfect spot for some excellent food. It was windy so I was led to an upstairs cavernous dinning area, which soon filled to the brim, obviously popular.
Osteria Bancogiro has a great selection of wines, I opted for a Dalle Ore Chardonnay, which was just delicious, reading their website “In order to retain the specific features of the land, which makes all of these wines unique, no chemical fertilizers, herbicides or insecticides (which can damage the micro flora and the aquifers and indiscriminately eliminate beneficial insects) are used.” It’s a RAW wine, biodynamic, organic and damn tasty.
The dishes I went for were the Seared Scallops in Rhubarb Cevice, and Bigoli in lobster sauce with black fish eggs and zucchini sauce. Bigoli is a thicker kind of spaghetti shaped pasta, I had eaten this before last year in Sienna and really enjoyed its slightly chewy texture.
The meal was awesome, staff engaging, polite and not over fussy it was a beautiful and lovely end to the day. Chefs Jacopo Capponi, Jacopo Zamboni and Andrea Masutti and all the team back of house did a brilliant job with the food, the owners Davide, Gianluca and Mauro are running a great place to have some Venetian inspired delights with a twist, fresh and delicious. Graci Mille.
The trip back to the hotel was as usual delightful, the weather was warm, but not hot, the lights sparkled on the Grand Canal, the Palazzo’s lit up in glorious splendour. The hotel welcomed me back to enjoy a comfortable nights sleep.
I didn’t visit the Doges Palace, it was way too busy!
Monday was manic, so I decided to rearrange a couple of days, the itinerary allowed for it, Mrs R had reminded me ‘I was on holiday’, whilst checking everything was ok back at home, and I should not overdo things. When I woke up early it was raining, during breakfast the weather cleared, it was going to be a nice day.
So things re-ordered I set out for the lunchtime destination via a variety of shops, trying to get into the Venetian way of life, the fruit and veg shops were beautifully presented as were the bakers and patisserie.
Two restaurants were booked for Tuesday, lunch at Osteria Alle Testiere and dinner at Osteria Anice Stellato. You would not believe (well, probably my close friends would), how much time and effort went into choosing and booking the restaurants, there was only one failure, I sent them a polite email and got no response, disappointing, but there were plenty of others to choose from!
As mentioned in my first blog post, the routing and visits were anchored to restaurant locations, the restaurants were a mixture, top end, local and old, I wanted to taste Venice in as many ways as possible, no tourist menus, Pizza, or anything that did not feel Venetian. My 2nd requirement was to try and keep away from busy areas, apparently an impossible task, but, as I was staying in Venice, I could get going before the bulk of the day visitors turned up, to swarm around St. Marks Square and the tourist hotspots.
The exception was probably the most famous bookshop in Venice pictured above, apparently it was quieter than usual! I did buy a book.
The map above shows some of the early planning , red around restaurants and yellow water bus stops, something that was to be an adventure in its own way, they are great fun, but you do need to allow more time than you think as the Central Canal can get extremely busy. The restaurant on Tuesday evening was to the far north of the city, and was another useful test of the water bus for later in the week.
Tuesday was now more relaxing as there were less planned places to visit. I had taken Thursday afternoon and some of Friday, which were also more relaxed and moved Tuesdays itinerary and split between Thursday and Friday, if that makes sense. It enabled a ‘window shopping’ approach to the day, looking at artisan shops and menus!! Passing the lunch date, I nosied through the window and saw the fresh vegetables on the corner table and quickly checked to menu to see what was on offer, I was getting hungry.
I had hoped to get to the viewing platform of a well know shopping centre, DFS! Unfortunately, I had missed the fact that it obviously needed to be booked, and I had not, no spaces for over 2 weeks, but I had other plans! Whilst mooching around I saw a familiar logo 1605 Giusti Modena, Balsamic Vinegar. I had just finished my bottle purchased whilst on a trip to Florence many years ago, I soon had myself a new bottle and one that was even better than the previous excellent one, perfecto.
Next stop lunch, and I was excited, I had seen and heard great things about this small restaurant, and I was not going to be let down.
The restaurant only has 6 – 7 tables, it’s very popular, it’s extremely good, in fact awesome. Some amazing chefs have eaten here, like Angela Hartnett OBE, Stanley Tucci, my inspiration for the trip the late Russell Norman, Rick Stein the list goes on. They let me in the kitchen for a couple of pictures, petit, spotless, and organised I was struggling to think such as small space could produce plates of such wonderment and delight.
The food was knockout, I mean Pilgrim Scallops with Lemon and Peppermint, what a plate of deliciousness, cooked to perfection, the Lemon and Peppermint were obvious but so so subtle, I have never eaten a dish like it, just stunning and yet, simple in its complexity. WOW, WOW, WOW.
Yes, there was wine, it would be rude not too. Luca, picture above left is a professional sommelier, and picked a delightful Ua D’Oro, made from the historic DORONA grape, beloved of the Venetian Doges, known as ‘The Gold of the Doges’ due to the golden hued grapes used in its production, boy it was really really good, what an absolute pleasure.
For the mains I went for Prawns with Fresh Coriander and Lime, with vegetables from their garden, another stunning plate of food perfectly paired with the wine, it went down a treat. Whilst eating, several people popped in to check for availability, sorry, no, fully booked. Get the message, this is an awesome local Osteria, one for your list of must eats if you visit Venice, but book well in advance, I booked in March for a June sitting!!
Whilst in the famous bookshop I picked up a bargain cookbook for €14 to add to the library, and inside, well well, what a find. Dessert was tempting but knowing there was another meal to eat in the evening I politely declined, but what a lunchtime treat.
After the required rest, change etc. the Vaporetto was to be my saviour. Rather than walk the 35 minutes or so to the evenings destination, the No.1 water bus from Arsenale allowed a more leisurely 10 minute walk, through canal ridden thoroughfares, buzzing with people enjoying the sun blessed evening, it was delightful.
Osteria Anice Stellato is in the northern Cannaregiosestiere, another restaurant I booked in March, I was watching all my targets for availability and booked as soon as the systems allowed!
A delightful restaurant by a canal named rio della sensa, a short walk from the water bus stop S.Marcuola -Casino it serves inventive Venetian cuisine and some really very good local wines. The story behind Fataman Vino Blanco is brilliant and right up my street, handmade (picked) artisan wine using old, deep-rooted vines, numerous varieties and local to the Veneto area.
The fermentation process is ‘in it’s own skins’ for 5-6 days without any temperature control, then matured for 18 months, only 1500 bottles are produced. Drink young…..yumm, that it was, very delicious, and recommended by the waitress who service skills were polite, friendly and charming.
By the way, the label was designed by the owners daughter, a lovely touch.
How about the food, yep, delicious again, the Mackerel was perfecto, cooked just enough with the accompanying peas, mint and apricot the flavours were surprisingly well matched with the oily fish.
For mains it had to be the Octopus ravioli with coconut cream and sumac, delightful the pasta just chewy enough to give way to the delicious and perfectly cooked Octopus.
I forgot to mention the surprise taster at the beginning, a Tomato Gazpacho, with from memory, a cod cream, but I might be wrong, either way, it was also very tasty.
As I made my way back to the hotel it was late evening, about 23:17! and the streets were quiet, I was thinking about the day, the wonderful sights, the stunning food and amazing memories. St Marks Square was quiet, I ‘snagged’ a picture of the ‘Bridge of Sighs’, no people nudging and bustling me, it was calm… I was happy, but really missing the family.
I woke up at 04:30 on Monday morning, the excitement of the day was probably flying around my head, beckoning me to get up and start exploring, I took a brief look out the window and went back to bed!
The daily routine repeated itself until departure, Venice is just a wonderful place to explore so I was determined to get as much out of my few days as possible, after putting so much time into planning things. A knock at the door just after 08:00, ‘buongiorno’, breakfast had arrived, perfecto. Fresh Croissant, various bread and conserves, ham and cheese and a Latte, it did the job, I was not in Venice for a ‘fry-up’!
The 1st day was going to be a real test, had my planning process worked, the timings, route etc. Test one was getting a weeks Vaporetto ticket at the local water bus stop, again, there were so many recommendations and comments on social media, I ignored them all, went up to the ticket machine, selected English, 7 Days, inserted the credit card, PIN code, and boom, le ticket arrivé, simples, next stop The Penny Guggenheim Collection for some arty education.
As well as a host of well known names such as Salvador Dali, Henri Laurens, Max Ernst and Pablo Picasso, a special exhibition was being presented, dedicated to JeanMaurice Eugène Clément Cocteau a french poet, playwright, novelist, designer, film director, visual artist and critic. He was one of the foremost artists of the surrealist, avant-garde, and Dadaist movements and an influential figure in early 20th century art, and a drug addict! The largest picture in the above gallery is one of his, as is the ‘interesting’ one below, Violinist, Study for a Poster for the Menton Music Festival circa 1920.
There is a lovely view of the Venice Prefect building ‘canal side’, and a delightful cafe selling homemade delights and serving coffee and tea, oh well, when in Venice.
Much of his work ‘didn’t do it for me’, but there were a few that seemed to be a route into his mind, probably during a drug ‘high’ in some cases, nonetheless I thoroughly enjoyed Penny’s collection and Jean Cocteau was definitely interesting, it’s really worth a visit if you are in Venice, I got a copy of the 257 page guide with the complete collection with pictures, as many are not on display.
During my research I had read a little about the famous Venetian ‘rowing boat’, the Gondoler. These magnificent craft are built by hand, without plans, from memory in a A Squero, a factory dedicated to their production and I was trying to arrange a visit, unfortunately they were so busy, they did not have time to allow a tour but I still made for Squero Di San Trovaso, an iconic location, and cicchetti stop, I was peckish! There is another Squero to the north of the city where you can also arrange a visit, but I found out too late, it’s more of a museum and restoration project though.
Continuing to plan, a trip to one of two Leonardo de Vinci exhibitions, via the Ponte dei Pugni, the ‘Bridge of Fists’ where disputes were settled by a ‘punch up’, I noticed at least three towers in Venice that had varying degrees of lean, fingers crossed they will be sorted before they lean to far and collapse!
Banksy has been to Venice, and managed to paint ‘The Migrant Child’ dated 2019, it’s going to be restored thanks to Italy’s culture ministry, its certainly a tourist stop for those in the know, located at ‘shhhh”, explore and find it yourself, it’s really very poignant.
It was time for a quick pit stop before the next visit, Botegga del Caffé Dersut was right next to the Basilica Di Santa Maria Gloriosadei Frari and serves delicious cannoli and the most refreshing iced ‘shakerto’, chilled coffee in my case infused with cardamom, delicious.
The Basilica was amazing, and almost completely empty which had been the theme throughout the day, I don’t do crowds, my better half has suspected I might be slightly ADHD and possibly OCD for many years, in more recent times I just prefer space and try to avoid confined areas and places that are crowded, luckily, so far, the day had been almost dreamy. Another guide to add to the collection and descriptions of the magnificent paintings, carvings and architecture, a stunning place to visit.
The last stop of the day was just brilliant, and certainly a ‘must do’ if you have even the slightest interest in the history of cartoons, cinema and the wonderment of the huge numbers of characters that have been created over the years, from Popeye to Pinocchio, Laurel and Hardy to Mork and Mindy the Venice Vintage Toys Museum contains over 5000 pieces, so many extremely rare, curated by the passionate Fabrizio Fontanella, what a place to finish the days touring.
I spent ages looking through the various cabinets and displays, being taken back to my childhood, black and white memories morphing into colour as technology developed, a few particularly caught my eye but one grabbed my attention.
My first ever international blog post was way back in June 2013, I had just come back from Masseria Montenapoleone in Puglia, southern Italy on my first week long cookery school. I was taught to cook real Italian food by the most amazing ‘nona’, she was just brilliant. In the picture I am making the original Tiramisu with the ‘proper’ biscuits. Now try and find them in the pictures above, the Tiramisu was perfect!
The day had been brilliant, the planning worked, timings were good and the Toy Museum had been an unexpected surprise taking me back to my first trip to Italy, to an amazing cookery school. Thank-you Fabrizio for taking the time to talk me through the exhibits, and removing some foodie ones for a photograph or two.
As I made my way back to the hotel, I notice another 80 degree tower!, I was convinced it had a slight lean. After a relax, refresh and change of clothes I was off to dinner at an iconic restaurant, featured in the film starring Jonnie Depp and Angelina Jolie, ‘The Tourist’, The Hotel Danieli. Unfortunately, it was too windy to eat on the terrace, but the dining room was opulent and views very pleasant looking out to the lagoon.
Impeccable service was obvious from the moment I arrived to the time I left, it would have been rude not to try a Bellini before starting the tasting menu and wine flight, which proved to be a delicious experience from start to finish.
Freshly made bread was really good, the Baccalà Mantecato delicate but flavourful, the Rissoto I felt could have done with another minute in the pan, it had a slight chalkiness to the texture, but it still tasted damn good, the Saffron Cod was a delight, the Panna Cotta perfectly wobbly and not rubbery or firm.
Day one had been a complete success, yes I was a tad tired (being polite here), I felt overwhelmed by the days adventure and walking back towards the hotel I noticed ‘that’ leaning tower in the night sky, tell me it’s not leaning slightly, maybe even more than slightly.
There are a number of resources available which give you some clues as to where to take pictures that are less ‘busy’, people wise. You can see the hordes of people in the distance above trying to snap the ‘Bridge of Sighs’, I was on the Ponte de San Provolo further along the canal, nicely quiet and with the added interest of a Servizio Gondole, where you can loose many euros for the privilege of a trip in Venices traditional ‘rowing’ boat.
My arrival was midday Sunday, the afternoon was chilled and relaxed, the evening was to be the 1st culinary adventure, so back to the hotel to get ready. The rooms at A Tribute To Music Residenza are subtly themed, mine being the Mozart Room, No.103. It was comfortable and functional, I did not want, or need 24hr room service, staff wearing suits etc. It was perfect for my intention, a spectacular view, and a base to explore.
I was off to ‘LOCAL’ a 1 Michelin star restaurant for my 1st evenings treat, and what a night it was to be.
I arrived a few minutes early and watched the staff briefing through the glass fronted building. The location, in Salizzada dei Greci was a 5 minute walk from the hotel, nice. I was ushered in and lead to a table overlooking the cooking, brilliant, I could see some of the action.
During my afternoon wander I had visited the restaurant and seen the mise en place in action, the kitchen team prepping for evening service, I was really looking forward to my first tasting menu.
Local is the masterpiece of siblings Benedetta and Luca Fullin, with Salvatore Sodano running back of house, creating culinary treasures, and Maitre Sommelier Manual Trevisan doing an awesome job front of house, assisting with service and pairing wines with considered expertise. The food was pushing the limits and the wine matching would need to do the same.
Having seen the reviews and comments on numerous social media sites, the food could be described as controversial, personally, I would say more like unbelievably inventive, something to really test your palate and definitely to embrace with open arms (well mouth), it was an experience I will positively remember, truly magical.
Prior to the trip, I hade been checking each month, making reservations in 11 restaurants took some considerable effort, what, 11, yep, this was a foodie extravaganza and I wanted to pack in as much as an experience as possible during my week in Venice.
So, I chose the 9 course tasting menu, pictured above with wine flight, why not, a chance to see the expertise of both the kitchen and the sommelier, I was not disappointed in the slightest it was all just brilliant!
The first course of cicchetti was a stunning ‘mystery’, each item had been eloquently explained but in my excitement, I had forgotten what I had eaten, I could certainly remember each element being sublime, brilliant, sometime unusual but definitely delicious. I beckoned Benedetta, and within minutes, she had kindly written the description of each cicchetti as can be seen above left.
Manual did an awesome job with the wine pairings, each perfectly matched Salvatores stunning food, especially surprising was my 1st taste of ‘raw’ prawns, they are so so fresh in Venice and perfectly safe to eat, I had them several times during the week. Also stunning was the Squid Ink dish, another surprise. The sweetbreads were standout, to be honest the meal was just brilliant, all of it.
Each course is described on a small card which was a lovely touch, a souvenir to take away, a card personally signed by the whole team was also something different, another personal touch.
One surprise was the cod, its tongue and pil pil, particularly the origin and connection to The Lofoten Islands in Norway, my foodie destination in 2023, a perfect link and totally unexpected. The descriptions on the cards provided a culinary story, some context and reasoning behind each of the dishes, a really great idea as this is often lost in a traditional ‘menu’. Some dishes had their process described, the curing of fish, why and the result, nice.
Would I recommend LOCAL, hell yes, it was an unexpected culinary journey through a valley of tastes, textures and flavours which was really testing, but in a positive way. The extremely clever use of salt and sweet in some of the dishes was perfectly balanced and a real joy.
Service was unfussy but attentive enough to feel special. At the end of the meal I was invited to meet chef Salvatore and Manual for a quick chat, we discussed the menu, the critiques and his passion for pushing the boundaries, it was a truly delightful evening, another I will never forget, thank-you to everyone at LOCAL for a perfect 1st evening in Venice, Graci Mille indeed.
