Our friend the brochette kebab seller

A day or two into our visit to Fez, we met and became friends with the small brochette kebab grill joint owner at number 30, near the Blue Gate. He spoke no English but always pointed to the number 30 on his store front as a marker for us to stop by. Unfortunately for him anytime we walked by we were far too full to partake. That didn’t stop him from giving us free brochettes though. We did, however, make it a point to visit him before we left. We left it till the last day, in fact the last hour. We were in such a hurry to check out of our riad and to get our taxi to the airport that we asked him if it was ok to package our kebabs for us to take away.

As we waited for the brochettes to be done from scratch we watched the world slowly go by in the medina. Our friend started by cutting the chicken, liver, lamb and beef brochettes into small pieces which he then charred on his charcoal grill. The brochettes were skewered in thin metal skewers unlike the sticks I’m more used to. The orange fires of brochette sellers are ubiquitous in the Fez medina, their light smoke a constant seductive reminder to passersby that something flavoursome awaits them.

We bought a mixture of heart, chicken and beef which he doused with only salt, chilli and cumin once grilled. There was more chilli and cumin on hand just in case we wanted more.

Without a care about illegalities we shoved the foil the meat was wrapped in into one of our suitcases and hoped for the best with airport officials. The plan was to heat it up in the oven when we got to london and to eat it with Kenkey.

A few hours after departing from Fez and a long arduous drive in the snow in London later, our brochettes takeaway from Morocco felt like the wisest decisions we’ve ever made. It went down a treat