there should be DJs yelling at Christians at all my birthdays
I'll probably talk more about this later, but, since the Marrakesh description ran long, let me say this: two DJs from Sirius OutQ, the gay and lesbian channel ,came to Portland to cover Pride for Sirius Radio. And, true to parades in the past, the evil homophobic faith-misinterpreting red-shirt Christians (that's not an Ensign Expendable slam, they really do wear stupid red shirts with "FAGS ARE GOING TO HELL" slogans) marched through before the parade started, screaming at folks to repent.
They were stopped in front of Pioneer Courthouse Square, and started screaming at the two DJ's. They were instantly outdone, outclassed and outranted, because honestly--put virtually any two funny, educated queers in front of a megaphone and put even two semi-rational Christians in the street and who are the people going to hear?
And the Sirius guys were good. Funny, articulate, wouldn't stand for one single slur the street idiots tossed them--they got a solid bit of witty polemic out, just pinging them back point by point.
They held the parade up for about half an hour, because the crowd was laughing so hard at the DJ's, the DJ's were ribbing them so much, and--remember, all of this was going out live on Sirius--the street idiots gave them a perfect platform to reinforce how gay marriages tend to last longer, how Christian marriages can no longer be considered anything close to holy if they let Britney Spears get married for seventeen hours, how much Christians must be afraid of gays getting married--"Why?" one of them asked, "are they afraid we'll DO IT BETTER?!?"--and how it's only fear of change and fear of acceptance that keeps hardline hating demagoguery around.
It was beautiful. I had a ball.
So, more about the parade later...let's talk Marrakesh.
This is one of the many branches of Marrakesh. They're a franchised chain of restaurants, but each one is individual, depending on who decided to buy the franchise for that town. Washington's version actually has murals on the walls and booths, instead of floor cushions and the traditional low round tables. Spokane's version bought and remodeled an abandoned roller rink, so it's the single most spacious one I've ever been in, and it frequently offered two belly dancers for its patrons on the weekends. Portland's, my favorite, is two lavishly decorated rooms crammed into a remodeled Victorian in the Nob Hill district.
Before dining, each patron is provided a large towel, and a large silver handwashing tub is brought to the center of the table, and warm water is poured on the hands of the patrons. After all, you're going to be eating with them. Traditional also is the accompaniments to each food order: harira, a rich, drinkable (remember, no utensils) lentil and chickpea stew, redolent with cumin; Bastila Royale, a wonderful dish of (in our case) eggs, chicken, onions and spices (my version, vegetarian, was spiced eggs, boiled spiced raisins, and almonds); and Maghreb salad, a blend of spiced eggplants and cumin surrounded by sliced green olives, cucumbers, cilantro, parsley, and tomatoes, in a light oil sauce. All of this comes with cool water (or other drink of choice) and all the coriander-rich bread you can eat.
And then the entrees start coming out. Our table had lamb mrouzia, chicken with preserved lemons and green olives, spicy Moroccan chicken, honeyed lamb shanks with soft-boiled prunes, and braised hare in tomato with paprika and saffron couscous.
We also had a special that evening--chicken in sweet apricot sauce, with sesame-seed-covered steamed apricots (they were as soft as pudding), and my personal vegetarian offering, couscous T'Faya, a heaping mound of steamed semolina rounds with a filled center of steeped boiled raisins, rich with cloves, onions, almonds and chickpeas. Wau.
And that was just our table. :)
I will admit, I had little pulls of the lamb mrouzia and the honeyed lamb and prunes, and a small pull of the chicken and one of the cooked green olives, and I ate one of the boiled apricots. But mostly, I was good--I ate my all-vegetarian Bastila and my all-vegetarian couscous and, though it felt weirdly like consuming dessert all evening, I had a blast and considered myself very well fed.
We walked in at eight-thirty, and we left close to eleven. That's the one thing you do have to take into account, if you live next to one of these wonderful places--dinner, by default, is slow. You won't mind; you'll love the ambiance and the food and the picking over scraps that amusingly occurs--if there's any kind of adventure in your soul, you'll love all this--but you will lose a great chunk of time.
This is a wonderful review of Spokane's Marrakesh Restaurant. (And, btw, having eaten in Zayed's place many times, I can tell you--it's one of the few things worth a drive to Spokane, Washington.)
And if you're interested in more Moroccan recipes, or different versions, try this link and scroll down to "M".
They were stopped in front of Pioneer Courthouse Square, and started screaming at the two DJ's. They were instantly outdone, outclassed and outranted, because honestly--put virtually any two funny, educated queers in front of a megaphone and put even two semi-rational Christians in the street and who are the people going to hear?
And the Sirius guys were good. Funny, articulate, wouldn't stand for one single slur the street idiots tossed them--they got a solid bit of witty polemic out, just pinging them back point by point.
They held the parade up for about half an hour, because the crowd was laughing so hard at the DJ's, the DJ's were ribbing them so much, and--remember, all of this was going out live on Sirius--the street idiots gave them a perfect platform to reinforce how gay marriages tend to last longer, how Christian marriages can no longer be considered anything close to holy if they let Britney Spears get married for seventeen hours, how much Christians must be afraid of gays getting married--"Why?" one of them asked, "are they afraid we'll DO IT BETTER?!?"--and how it's only fear of change and fear of acceptance that keeps hardline hating demagoguery around.
It was beautiful. I had a ball.
So, more about the parade later...let's talk Marrakesh.
This is one of the many branches of Marrakesh. They're a franchised chain of restaurants, but each one is individual, depending on who decided to buy the franchise for that town. Washington's version actually has murals on the walls and booths, instead of floor cushions and the traditional low round tables. Spokane's version bought and remodeled an abandoned roller rink, so it's the single most spacious one I've ever been in, and it frequently offered two belly dancers for its patrons on the weekends. Portland's, my favorite, is two lavishly decorated rooms crammed into a remodeled Victorian in the Nob Hill district.
Before dining, each patron is provided a large towel, and a large silver handwashing tub is brought to the center of the table, and warm water is poured on the hands of the patrons. After all, you're going to be eating with them. Traditional also is the accompaniments to each food order: harira, a rich, drinkable (remember, no utensils) lentil and chickpea stew, redolent with cumin; Bastila Royale, a wonderful dish of (in our case) eggs, chicken, onions and spices (my version, vegetarian, was spiced eggs, boiled spiced raisins, and almonds); and Maghreb salad, a blend of spiced eggplants and cumin surrounded by sliced green olives, cucumbers, cilantro, parsley, and tomatoes, in a light oil sauce. All of this comes with cool water (or other drink of choice) and all the coriander-rich bread you can eat.
And then the entrees start coming out. Our table had lamb mrouzia, chicken with preserved lemons and green olives, spicy Moroccan chicken, honeyed lamb shanks with soft-boiled prunes, and braised hare in tomato with paprika and saffron couscous.
We also had a special that evening--chicken in sweet apricot sauce, with sesame-seed-covered steamed apricots (they were as soft as pudding), and my personal vegetarian offering, couscous T'Faya, a heaping mound of steamed semolina rounds with a filled center of steeped boiled raisins, rich with cloves, onions, almonds and chickpeas. Wau.
And that was just our table. :)
I will admit, I had little pulls of the lamb mrouzia and the honeyed lamb and prunes, and a small pull of the chicken and one of the cooked green olives, and I ate one of the boiled apricots. But mostly, I was good--I ate my all-vegetarian Bastila and my all-vegetarian couscous and, though it felt weirdly like consuming dessert all evening, I had a blast and considered myself very well fed.
We walked in at eight-thirty, and we left close to eleven. That's the one thing you do have to take into account, if you live next to one of these wonderful places--dinner, by default, is slow. You won't mind; you'll love the ambiance and the food and the picking over scraps that amusingly occurs--if there's any kind of adventure in your soul, you'll love all this--but you will lose a great chunk of time.
This is a wonderful review of Spokane's Marrakesh Restaurant. (And, btw, having eaten in Zayed's place many times, I can tell you--it's one of the few things worth a drive to Spokane, Washington.)
And if you're interested in more Moroccan recipes, or different versions, try this link and scroll down to "M".