Moroccan Supper
[originally posted on Tableau Vivante]
Epcot stays open an hour later than the parks, making it just right to head on over to for eats after the amusements close. With at least one restaurant in each of the World Showcase’s eleven country pavillions, the place is fertile ground for foodies of all stripes.
Having tasted at their booth earlier, I was interested in further exploring the cuisine of Morocco. Lucky for me, my wife had booked us a reservation that night at the Restaurant Marrakesh.
Amidst a tropical breeze, we arrived to the gentle susurration of palm fronds punctuated here and there by the clink of dinnerware and the occassional whiff of roasted meats.
The dining room was a study in intricate detail. Inlaid wood beams checkered the ceiling. Carved stucco reliefs bordered the walls. Tile mosaics ran throughout the interior and the place was lit by stained glass lanterns filigreed with the most delicate wrought iron lace.
Going over and over the menu, I couldn’t decide on just one thing. With my luck holding true, I found the answer to my dilemma across from the entrées on page two: the Taste of Morocco Royal Feast. Oh boy, sign me up!
My feast began with Harira Soup, a traditional brew of tomatoes, lentils and lamb. On the side was a Beef Brewat Roll, layers of papery pastry stuffed with seasoned minced beef, fried, and then sprinkled with cinnamon and a bit of powdered sugar. The chunk of bread came off a hearty, brown multigrain loaf.
With an eclectic mix like that, pairing a wine seemed nigh impossible. But from the wine list came this description for a Beni M’tir Rouge Amazir: “A dry and full bodied wine whose ruby red colour has depth and subtlety. A highly fragrant nose of almond, citrus peel, orange marmalade, fig, mixed spice (cinnamon, mint). Very elegant and seductive, generous, dense and complex. A voluptuous, fine wine to be savoured slowly.”
It was as interesting as the first course. The aromatics in the wine blended nicely with the seasonings in the food. It was a bit tart and thin for what I would expect from a claim of voluptuousness. The acidity was fine against the tomato soup. I just wouldn’t sit down with a glass unless there was food to go with it.
The main course was more like three courses in one. A platter-sized oval plate landed before me with a thud that may have been my jaw following it to the table. This is for one person?!? Royal Feast, indeed. I was raised to always finish what’s on my plate. Just looking at this mass of food had me groaning before I started.
It was good, though.
On the left was the Roast Lamb Meshoui, a Moroccan tradition - slow roasted lamb shank in natural juices. It was so tender that the meat slid off the bone with just the caress of a fork. On the right was a full breast of Lemon Chicken, braised in a rich stew of seasoned garlic, green and black olives, and perserved lemon. And in the middle had been heaped a hill of couscous, a Moroccan national dish of tiny steamed semolina pasta served with steamed carrots, onions, squash and chickpeas. It was all very savory and afterwards I felt royally stuffed, but the Feast included Assorted Moroccan Pastries so I wasn’t done yet.
I’ll confess I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw the dainty bits of dessert presented. I’d already popped the top button of my jeans halfway through the couscous and was quite sure there was precious little room left in my distended gut. Some royal mercy, at last.
I got two small squares of a Moroccan baklava. The phyllo was light and flaky, sandwiching layers of honey and chopped nuts. At the top of the plate was something like a Moroccan rugalach, a denser roll of dates, figs, brown sugar, cinnamon and more chopped nuts.
When all was eaten and done, I could have used Mr. Wonka and his whistle to summon a host of Oompa-Loompas to roll me away. It was good enough that I’d go back, but next time only for the lamb entrée like my better and wiser half had done. She wasn’t in pain at all…
Epcot stays open an hour later than the parks, making it just right to head on over to for eats after the amusements close. With at least one restaurant in each of the World Showcase’s eleven country pavillions, the place is fertile ground for foodies of all stripes.
Having tasted at their booth earlier, I was interested in further exploring the cuisine of Morocco. Lucky for me, my wife had booked us a reservation that night at the Restaurant Marrakesh.
Amidst a tropical breeze, we arrived to the gentle susurration of palm fronds punctuated here and there by the clink of dinnerware and the occassional whiff of roasted meats.
The dining room was a study in intricate detail. Inlaid wood beams checkered the ceiling. Carved stucco reliefs bordered the walls. Tile mosaics ran throughout the interior and the place was lit by stained glass lanterns filigreed with the most delicate wrought iron lace.
Going over and over the menu, I couldn’t decide on just one thing. With my luck holding true, I found the answer to my dilemma across from the entrées on page two: the Taste of Morocco Royal Feast. Oh boy, sign me up!
My feast began with Harira Soup, a traditional brew of tomatoes, lentils and lamb. On the side was a Beef Brewat Roll, layers of papery pastry stuffed with seasoned minced beef, fried, and then sprinkled with cinnamon and a bit of powdered sugar. The chunk of bread came off a hearty, brown multigrain loaf.
With an eclectic mix like that, pairing a wine seemed nigh impossible. But from the wine list came this description for a Beni M’tir Rouge Amazir: “A dry and full bodied wine whose ruby red colour has depth and subtlety. A highly fragrant nose of almond, citrus peel, orange marmalade, fig, mixed spice (cinnamon, mint). Very elegant and seductive, generous, dense and complex. A voluptuous, fine wine to be savoured slowly.”
It was as interesting as the first course. The aromatics in the wine blended nicely with the seasonings in the food. It was a bit tart and thin for what I would expect from a claim of voluptuousness. The acidity was fine against the tomato soup. I just wouldn’t sit down with a glass unless there was food to go with it.
The main course was more like three courses in one. A platter-sized oval plate landed before me with a thud that may have been my jaw following it to the table. This is for one person?!? Royal Feast, indeed. I was raised to always finish what’s on my plate. Just looking at this mass of food had me groaning before I started.
It was good, though.
On the left was the Roast Lamb Meshoui, a Moroccan tradition - slow roasted lamb shank in natural juices. It was so tender that the meat slid off the bone with just the caress of a fork. On the right was a full breast of Lemon Chicken, braised in a rich stew of seasoned garlic, green and black olives, and perserved lemon. And in the middle had been heaped a hill of couscous, a Moroccan national dish of tiny steamed semolina pasta served with steamed carrots, onions, squash and chickpeas. It was all very savory and afterwards I felt royally stuffed, but the Feast included Assorted Moroccan Pastries so I wasn’t done yet.
I’ll confess I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw the dainty bits of dessert presented. I’d already popped the top button of my jeans halfway through the couscous and was quite sure there was precious little room left in my distended gut. Some royal mercy, at last.
I got two small squares of a Moroccan baklava. The phyllo was light and flaky, sandwiching layers of honey and chopped nuts. At the top of the plate was something like a Moroccan rugalach, a denser roll of dates, figs, brown sugar, cinnamon and more chopped nuts.
When all was eaten and done, I could have used Mr. Wonka and his whistle to summon a host of Oompa-Loompas to roll me away. It was good enough that I’d go back, but next time only for the lamb entrée like my better and wiser half had done. She wasn’t in pain at all…