To help you with this, here’s a list of foods that we don’t have here that I really, really miss. Some of them may be obvious, others, maybe not:

• Macaroni and cheese, either out of a box (it’s so easy!) or homemade with the right kind of cheese.
• Basil. And dill.
• Pesto. Pine nuts. Parmesan.
• Hard cheeses. American cheddar cheese. Fresh mozzarella.
• Salmon!
• Bagels and cream cheeses, of all different flavors (particularly poppy seed bagels with honey walnut cheese)
• Dark chocolate.
• Any dessert (they just don’t know how to do it right here). Especially cupcakes, and chocolate chip cookies, and muffins.
• Chinese take-out.
• Pre-sliced bread loaves and sandwiches on ‘em. It really is the best.
• Sweet potatoes.
• Maple syrup.
• Marshmallows. And graham crackers. And therefore, smores.
• Pumpkin-flavored drinks.
• Pork. Bacon, chorizo, and pulled pork (I know I didn’t eat it at home, but I want it now).
• Spicy food.
• Chipotle burritos.
• Smooth peanut butter.
• Diet coke.
• A big mug of drip coffee (especially in a to go cup)
• Low-fat yogurt. 2% or 1% milk.
• Granola. Cereal. Oatmeal.
• Good beer.
• Rootbeer.
• ICE CREAM. Not soft-serve.
• Barbeque. Corn on the cob.
• Pie.
• Pad thai, curry, and drunken noodles.
• Frozen fish (instead of whole).
• Gumbo and jambalaya.
• Spinach and arugula and spring greens and kale.
• Mushrooms.
• Cranberries, and cranberry sauce.
• Broccoli and brussels sprouts.
• Quinoa.
• Black beans.
• Soy milk and rice milk and almond milk.
• Tostidos and salsa. And sun chips. And pretzels.

So please, smittenkitchen’s Deb says it better than I could: http://smittenkitchen.com/blog/2013/10/purple-plum-torte/

For starters, everything is theater, which makes for some very interesting interactions. Buying things at souk, bargaining back and forth Twenty dirhams for this old thing? It was clearly made in China. Greeting people ten or twenty times in a row How is your health? Is your family ok? Say hello to your parents. God bless you. You’re sure everything’s good? Saying goodbye on the phone more times shows that you care Goodbye, Ok, See you, Thats enough, Goodbye, bye, bye Everything in bright colors, strange noises, loud voices.

mountains of parsley at the market

Also, people are generous. Friends might invite you over for dinner, but so does the local shop owner, parents of students, neighbors, and friends of friends. Someone you just met will ask if you want to stay over sometime, and she genuinely expects you to come. Relationships can not be neglected, and it is expected that if you say you will come over this week, you show up. There is no excuse for losing contact or skipping out on a lunch date– not work, not studying, nothing. Unless you’re tired, then its cool to just take a nap.

Tea and sweets after work

I love that I create my own schedule and am responsible for getting things done on my own time. If something isn’t working, I can change it (or try). If I want to teach yoga three mornings a week, I can do something about that. Instead of sitting in a desk, my job involves playing games and making up art activities. My time is mine, and my evenings are free. I get time to spend with Mike, have time for myself, and still work.

time to sleep.... and cuddle

And how many twenty-three year olds can say that they don’t have to worry about money? Especially one that has student debt and chooses to spend vacations in Paris. I always seem to have enough to get by, and even travel to the beach a couple times a month, purchase the occasional luxury items (goat cheese and wine), and treat friends to nice dinners. And of course, take frequent European vacations on my own dime without feeling too guilty.

Mike trying an onion fresh from the ground

Just one last thing– the FOOD. It’s affordable, grown locally, always fresh, and just gorgeous. If I want a chicken, I go to my chicken man and pick a squawking one from the pen so I know exactly how fresh it is and how it was treated. The vegetables are beautiful, perfect really, picture-worthy. And generally cost a quarter per pound. I will definitely miss that. And even though there isn’t always the selection that there is in America, I’ve learned to make things myself to my own preferences– these pumpkin oats are a good example. I really don’t like the breakfast options here, even the yogurt is overly sugary, over priced, and in wasteful single serving containers. So I make my own! It’s really very easy, and you can personalize it with honey or flavorings of your choosing. With fall coming up (although the weather hasn’t turned here yet), I’ve been itching to start buying that pumpkin again. I keep a container of fresh puree in the freezer, and with about half of each new batch of yogurt I turn it into pumpkin oats for breakfast. Feel free to add your own tweaks: it would be great with bananas or roasted pumpkin seeds or peanut butter as well. Play with it!

Pumpkin Oats

• 1 cup of plain homemade yogurt (see recipe below)
• 1 Tablespoon of honey or 2 Tablespoons date paste
• 2 Tablespoons of chia or flax seeds
• 1/4 cup of oats
• 1/4 cup of pumpkin puree (fresh or canned)
• pinch of cinnamon and cardamom

The past two weeks back in Berkane, I’ve been trying to settle into my new fall school schedule. I know that in America, most kids have been at school by now for a week or two at least; in Morocco, school officially started this week but not many people have showed up yet. On a polychronic time table, things happen a couple days (or weeks, or months) after people say that they will. Add to that the fact that parents and teachers don’t really respect education like Americans do, and you get: no attendance policy for teachers or students, no standards of accountability, no expectation that students do outside homework, and ultimately a lot of students that fail and have to repeat grades or drop out.

I’ve read a lot about the failures of the American educational system in the news this year as school is starting up. And don’t get me wrong, I think that it’s important that we hold our students and teachers to a high standard; new research has shown that lower performing students will dramatically improve if they are held accountable to high expectations. But due to budget cuts in Philadelphia this year, students were faced with the prospects of returning to schools with no librarians, 30-40 students in a classroom, and in 60% of schools with no counselors. (http://phillystudentunion.org/index.php/psu-blog/item/514-worst-of-philly1stday) If education is in fact intended to prepare the next generation of leaders in America, we had better be ok with leaders that have little knowledge of math and science (often the first teachers to get cut).

Now imagine that your child goes off to school in the morning, but you later see him playing with neighborhood kids in the street. It turns out that the teacher didn’t show up for class again, but it’s virtually impossible to get that teacher fired. You ask your kid what he’s been learning in math class this year, and he says he doesn’t remember– he’s not allowed to take notes in class, or the teacher thinks he’s goofing off. When it comes time to take the test, he gets so nervous he decides not to go; after all, it’s probably the first time he’s answering a written problem, and his entire grade depends on it. So next year he has to go back to the same class with the same bad teacher– maybe he should just tag along with his dad as a helper at work instead. Doesn’t it make sense that the drop out rate is so high in Morocco?

It breaks my heart to see kids as young as six or seven selling candy on the street on a school day. But how can we expect them to go to school when it gets them so little? At least on the street he’ll get a few pennies. The education system in Morocco needs an overhaul; it needs to allow for innovation in teaching methods, regular teacher training, and implementation of attendance rules. It needs administrators that care more about their students success than about doling out discipline. It needs parent-teacher conferences so that parents understand the role they can play in their child’s education. Instead of blaming the student, it needs to reflect on why so many of them fail.

I’m trying to make the most of my minimal role as an after-school tutor, and spend more time at the youth center this year. The manager’s bought a coffee maker this week to make the work space feel more comfortable, so I brought in some homemade cake for coffee break. HUGE HIT. It’s the ultimate cake for Moroccans, who like light and fluffy but totally flavorless bundt cakes. It still has the right texture– incredibly fluffy and moist from the yogurt– but with a sweetness and spice that’s usually lacking in desserts here. It was gone within the afternoon… I guess I’ll have to make more!

Many thanks for the original recipe: http://gzikipyry.pl/ciasto-jogurtowe-z-figami/

Yogurt Cake with Figs

• 1.5 cups of flour (can substitute half for whole grain)
• 2 teaspoons of baking powder
• 1 teaspoon of ground ginger
• 1 teaspoon of ground cardamom
• 1/2 teaspoon of freshly ground nutmeg
• 2 eggs
• 3/4 cup of sugar
• 3 Tablespoons of butter (or 2 Tbsp margarine + 1 Tbsp veggie oil for Moroccans), melted
• 1/2 cup plain yogurt
• juice of 1 small lemon
• 1 Tablespoon fig jam
• approx. 3 fresh figs

Mike and I got the opportunity to catch a triple feature last month: travel to see his parents (in Morocco), travel to see my parents (in Ireland) and travel for the two of us (in Italy). There are a million moments I would like to share, but since this is a food blog, I’ll stick to the culinary highlights. Many of the dishes we tried will be inspiration for my own imitations at home!

• Big grilled sardines in garlic and olive oil, with tartar (Essouira, Morocco)
• Thick sliced bacon, sausage and eggs (Ireland)
• Burrata cheese (Italy– look it up!)
• Porchetta sandwiches with arugula, goat cheese and fried eggplant on rosemary focaccia (Italy)
• Pesto fettuccine circles with calamari (Italy)
• Creamy seafood chowder, mussels with guinness, lemon butter crab claws, fresh salmon (Ireland)
• Spicy fried Indian fish cakes with hot guacamole and cilantro yogurt sauce (Essouira, Morocco)
• Salmon locks with swiss cheese for breakfast (Ireland)
• Porcini mushroom and prosciutto pizza (Rome, Italy)
• Creamy clam & mussel spaghetti and fresh seafood risotto (Italy)

#1: Pink Fruit Salad

• 1 kilo of watermelon, seeds removed and cubed
• 1/4 kilo of pink plums, pits removed and quartered
• 1/4 kilo of purple grapes, large seeds removed and halved
• 1-2 Tbsp rose water (to taste)
• juice of half a lime/lemon
• up to 1 Tbsp sugar (optional)

#2: Watermelon Popsicles

• 4 triangle slices of watermelon, about 1 inch thick
• squeeze of lime juice (optional)

#3: Watermelon Rose Juice

• half a kilo of watermelon, seeds removed
• 1 tsp rose water
• juice of half a lime
• drizzle of honey (optional)

Sometimes blogging for me is purely aesthetic, sometimes it’s a way to share stories with family at home, other times its a space for personal reflection that I hope connects with something you’re experiencing too. So bear with me for a journaling post.

A series of interesting things have happened at work lately: a (belated) Global Youth Service Day event, a preschooler’s puppet show for reading, a graduation ceremony for English students, my first experience teaching a life skills program with the manager of the youth center, learning traditional Moroccan dishes, traveling an hour to a mountain village to explore women’s empowerment/cooking, among others. But along with that has come a few personal lessons learned that I’d like to take a moment to reflect on:

-Decide when to be patient and when to just go for it. Unfortunately, the manager of the older youth center where I led a GYSD event is incredibly bureaucratic and just generally nervous about doing anything. Every little programming decision has to be run past her and re-explained two, three, four times before it can happen. Usually, I am respectful of this– it’s her center. But when it my time she’s wasting and her foot-dragging can cost kids an opportunity to participate in an activity, I’m just going to do it. She can yell at me for it later if she wants.

-Work is more likely to be fun if I can convince friends to volunteer with me. Mike and I convinced four of our English students to volunteer to read stories to children, and they were remarkably brave when it turned into them doing puppeteering with no experience. I felt like just the cheerleader, and it was so rewarding to see them giving back to the community and taking ownership of the project.

-Sometimes there’s a point to teaching English. It’s not really my favorite part of the week and can often feel pointless with beginners. But seeing them so proud to finish a semester with less than three absences, its clear that they’ve tried something new, committed to it and given it a fair shot. And along the way, made new friends– it was great to see so many people bringing treats to share and cheering on their peers.

-Building a working relationship with a Moroccan is half work, half play. For every work day packed with lesson planning and teaching with a counterpart, it should be balanced with an evening of soccer and leisurely dinner. My favorite counterparts are also my friends, people I can be honest with, laugh openly with, and fully relax with. People who I can’t do this with probably won’t end up being good partners.

-I’m a teacher and also a student. Allowing my cooking class to be run by Moroccan women has let me relax, meet my fellow students in a new way, and remember I have something to learn from them too. One of the great characteristics of Americans is that we know that there are many ways to complete a task, and maybe there’s a new and better way to do things (Moroccans have a hard time with this in cooking). Americans blanch tomatoes to remove the skin and dice onions and garlic; Moroccans just grate all of em. Americans boil pasta and rice; Moroccans steam it. Americans brown and roast meat; Moroccans slow cook it in a pressure cooker for hours. When I’m open to learning new techniques, I might make a new dish, or make an old dish better, and build mutual respect with Moroccan friends along the way.

-Be completely open to building new relationships with people that want to work with you. Even though I just went to Rislan twice to meet the women doing a rural agricultural training program, they were so welcoming and so optimistic. Not only can I work with them next year, but I also rekindled a long-forgotten working relationship with someone else who attended the graduation party.

-Being honest doesn’t mean being negative. It’s too easy to talk about the parts of Moroccan culture that I really wish would change, like the sexual harassment, race insensitivity, and religious disrespect that I experience most days. While I’m glad I can start talking about those problems with Moroccans, being open should also include reminding them of the lifestyle I enjoy here, like how welcoming families and women’s circles are, and the culture of sharing a meal and tea, and drumming and dancing.

-I have the best cats in the whole world. I know everyone says that, but really. This cat is curled up nuzzling me, sleepily pawing at my typing fingers. Is there anything better than that?

Ok, maybe comfort food breakfast in bed shared with my bo is better than cat cuddling. But why should I have to choose?

Banana Bread Pudding

Serves Two. Prep time: 5 minutes. Cook time: 15 minutes.

• 1 ripe banana, mashed
• 2 cups of bread, cut in cubes
• 2 eggs
• 1 cup of milk
• 2 Tablespoons of sugar
• two generous pinches of cinnamon
• honey for drizzling

For some people, spring may be a time of new beginnings. For me as a teacher, it is the culmination of the school year’s work and the busiest time of the year. I’m not sure how common it is for Peace Corps Volunteers to feel overwhelmed with work, but I’m running around like a chicken with its head cut off. Today for the first time I actually forgot about a class I was supposed to be teaching until I got a very unnerved phone call from another teacher. At the moment I was supposed to begin a yoga class, I was standing in my jeans in the middle of the marketplace, arms full of bags, mentally checking the shopping list for an environmental event I’m organizing tomorrow. Whoops.

Although the preparation for the upcoming environmental workshop has left me in tears of frustration on more than one occasion, tomorrow should be fun. The central problem with the older youth center in town is that a number of “associations” (aka groups of friends that are “members” and just hang out) use the space for meetings. There are no cooperative activities between associations, no clear goals for any of them, and they come and go without respecting the space.

Tomorrow we’re getting them all together to clean, garden the central courtyard, and paint murals in the youth center. Something that should have taken two weeks has taken two months to prep (talk talk talk talk talk) without actually deciding on anything, so I’ll be flying by the seat of my pants tomorrow.

Mike and I also just booked our tickets for vacation this summer, which will feel sorely needed despite the fact that I was in Europe just a measly five months ago. From Fez with his parents to Ireland with my parents and Rome/Florence with friends, I’m pretty excited about the break.

What with all the work, the postings here have been kind of slim. I haven’t actually been doing a lot of cooking on my own, since my portion of my cooking class (and my excuse for neglecting work to cook) has ended. I made these a couple of weeks ago with the intention of sharing the recipe, but time seems to slip by. These didn’t slip my mind, though. These little suckers are memorable.

Morocco has no brown sugar, and Berkane has no date syrup to replace molasses. I happen to think that brown sugar is the key ingredient toa good chocolate chip cookie. Whether you like flat, chewy cookies or fluffy, cakey cookies or browned, crispy cookies, the trick is always brown sugar. So I took Joy the Baker’s classic CC cookie recipe and caramelized white sugar instead. That’s all. Add a pinch of salt, and safi– a passable american chocolate chip cookie.

Caramel Chocolate Chip Cookies

• 1-1/2 cups sugar
• 150 grams of unsalted butter, cut in 1″ cubes
• 2 cups flour
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1 teaspoon baking soda
• 1 egg + 1 egg yolk
• 2 tablespoons milk
• 1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract
• 2 cups semisweet chocolate chips

Winter in Morocco is not quite the winter that I’m used to having grown up in Minnesota. In my humble opinion, if there isn’t a final-hurrah snow storm in April it doesn’t really deserve to be called winter. Winter conjures up sledding, slick streets and rosy cheeks. And it definitely means weather below 32 degrees.

I didn’t get any of that this year in Morocco, but there were certainly moments of a new kind of freezing cold. Sure it didn’t technically freeze over, but sitting in your home in 40 degree weather wearing doubled-up long johns, your winter coat and a hat, trying to write out a lesson plan for work without taking off your gloves made me realize we kind of got it easy in Minnesota. Sure there are days when sprinting to your car leaves ice crystals in your hair, but then you turn the car on and poof! heat. Here, there is no respite.

I used to complain back at school in Minnesota that during the winters I would get to school before the sun came up and leave after the sun went down, never stepping outside to see daylight in between. But at least I got to stick around school after dark! In Berkane, when the sun sets at 5pm it’s a ghost town– there’s literally no one on the streets until the sun breaks the next day. Talk about depressing.

So I am thrilled that spring has hit full force in Berkane. Everything is so GREEN! I always thought I lived on the edge of the desert, since having first arrived in June when everything was dead and scorched. April in Berkane is incredible. The rolling green hillsides are fragrant with flowers, occasional sunny days break the rain, and the sun sets so late I can actually have after-school hours with students! It’s a miracle.

Spring’s official. I just got back from “Spring Camp” in Tetouan, on the northwest peninsula between Tangiers and Chefchaoen. Because a lot of planning happens at the last minute, many volunteers find camp to be a very challenging, frustrating, and exhausting experience. You walk in not knowing how many campers or counselors there are, what role you are responsible for taking, the English level of the campers or the food and lodging conditions. I got lucky. Mike and I got to lead games for motivated, talented high school English students every morning, and help minimally with games and sports every afternoon. Good food, private space, adequate staffing and preparation, and young adults that behaved like adults. I left feeling energized and motivated to get back to work in Berkane and really take advantage of the spring season before it dies down in the summer.

I love how life is so seasonal here. The seasons decide for me my work schedule, my mode of transportation, my hobbies, how I spend free time, my energy levels, and my menu. It brightens my day to see that very first food cart with a new seasonal fruit, a little reminder of what is to come. Plums? I totally forgot about those! And soon they’ll fill the marketplace and be dirt cheap. And today I saw my very first– the very first– watermelon for sale. I think last summer I ate watermelon all day just to stave off dehydration.

Now, I realize that soup isn’t really a “let’s celebrate spring” kind of dish. This is more of a last ditch effort to hold on to the best parts of winter– the comforting part from winters in Minnesota. In an effort to minimize the starkness of the seasons, I’ve taken to freezing as many whole foods as possible before they disappear. Strawberries, shelled peas, grapes all go in the freezer. For this soup, I tossed in a pre-roasted and then frozen red pepper to add a little depth. Feel free to go with fresh ones if you live in a place that imports food. The recipe below makes two bowls.

Tomato Soup

• 3 large tomatoes, sliced
• 1 roasted red pepper
• 3 cloves of garlic, peeled and quartered
• 2 cups of chicken broth or milk
• 1 teaspoon sage
• 1 teaspoon thyme
• salt and pepper to taste
• 2 Tablespoons homemade bread crumbs or croutons
• drizzle of olive oil
• chives (optional)

]]> http://thebeetreporter.blog.com/2013/04/25/tomato-soup-like-home/feed/ 0 http://thebeetreporter.blog.com/2013/03/25/seasonal-spring-salad/ http://thebeetreporter.blog.com/2013/03/25/seasonal-spring-salad/#comments Mon, 25 Mar 2013 22:42:31 +0000 Krista http://thebeetreporter.blog.com/?p=479

I have reached the one-year mark of living in Morocco! While on the one hand there are many accomplishments that I am proud of and am usually good at recognizing and remembering, this past week I have found myself more frustrated than ever. Wasting my time waiting for my counterpart to get her act together was suddenly an offense; the endless bureaucracy involved in planning any project seemed insurmountable; the juggling of projects terrifyingly precarious. The many challenges that come with community organizing in Morocco that I thought I had adapted to… I haven’t. It is still enough to make me have to hold myself back from screaming at the idiot behind the desk and try not to cry before class.

Maybe the one year mark has made me realize that even after all this time, I still haven’t fully “integrated” and adapted to everything about my new host country. Normal behavior in this culture like men shouting obscenities at a woman walking alone on the street with bystanders doing nothing still drives me insane. But that can’t be all of it– I’m thankful that I haven’t become numbed to some of the unacceptable behavior here, and think it’s one of the assets of being a foreigner/community organizer.

So maybe it’s that the stress of work is finally catching up to me. Planning for English classes is becoming a chore since I feel like other potential projects deserve more of my time, like writing a grant for a gardening project on Global Youth Service Day or designing a lesson for my part of an upcoming environmental workshop or working with more local doctors to make quality presentations in my nutrition class or dreaming of a future regional yoga retreat. But that can’t be it either– I’ve always been overbooked and usually do genuinely enjoy being busy. I have a job where I make my own work, and if it’s too much I can just take a step back.

It might be that I haven’t had an outlet to socialize with other Americans in a while. It’d been about a month since I saw another volunteer (other than Mike of course) and even then it was mostly in a work context. I consider myself an extrovert despite the fact that I almost never call other volunteers just to chat. I love hanging out with HCNs, but its just not the same, not totally relaxed. I just took a weekend in Oujda, so I’m hoping that might do the trick.

In reality, it’s probably a combination of all these things. All I can do is continue to do the things that I love (throw myself into yoga, cooking, reading), and take it one step at a time. Plan to the best of my ability for the parts of the project that I am in control of and recognize there are areas of my control; try new ways to keep my weekly English classes interesting without devoting all my time to them; take a break when I need it. The Country Director sends us a weekly email and snuck in an insightful tidbit this week: “Instead of looking for success each and every time, consider viewing improvement as traveling along a trajectory which has its normal ups and downs. Lately I am trying to be much more realistic about how long it might take for someone to learn a new skill or for a work team to overcome years of mistrust. Time has a good way of letting you see whether there is true improvement going on or not.” So maybe one year has passed– but there’s a year and then some to go.

In food news, I am likely having my final formalized class in my women’s cooking club this week. We’re making layered cakes, which the girls all call “wedding souffles” because they picture these huge towering tiers even though we only have room in the oven for two pans at a time. Then next week they’ll pick a favorite past meal to replicate on their own, give short presentations on past discussion topics in lieu of a final exam, and distribute certificates. It’s not over though, just entering a new phase. For the rest of the “school year” I’m handing the responsibility over to them to design the menu for the week and show me what they know how to do in the kitchen. Should be a fun month– informative for me, and I’m hoping it will spark some creativity and pride in their work.

Also, spring has officially arrived and announced itself dramatically with a streak of 75 degree weather and explosions of new food at the souq. Grapefruit! Strawberries! Artichokes! Asparagus! Red peppers! Mia doro mia doro mia doro (5 dirhams or $.60/kilo)! I must have eaten this salad or a variation (add oranges, cooked beets, diced ham, slivered fennel bulb, raw shallots, grilled chicken breast or anything that shouts “SPRING!” at you) five lunches last week. I can’t wait to see what shows up next.

Seasonal Spring Salad

• 1 small head of lettuce
• 1 small red bell pepper, chopped
• 6-8 strawberries, cleaned and slivered
• 6-8 dried figs, cleaned and quartered
• 1 Tablespoon goat cheese
• 1/4 cup walnuts, crushed
• 1 Tablespoon fresh mint, cleaned and minced
• 2 Tablespoons olive oil
• 3 Tablespoons balsamic vinegar
• pinch of pepper
• pinch of sugar (or honey)

Happy International Women’s Day! It’s turned into a full week of events here in Berkane, from English lessons to arts and crafts activities, a structured English debate and a movie showing. In addition to the sixty or so students that come to our regular weekday lessons, we managed to pull off a last-minute shindig with about seventy participants who made thank you cards for their moms and enjoyed watching an empowerment video (“You Can Dream”) and discussion. Many thanks to my wonderful Mudir, who manages the youth center and even bought bars of chocolate for everyone who came.

Seventy kids was kind of a lot to handle for an art activity, but I had a great time. I’m sure that their mothers have never gotten anything like it before as a gift– even when I was buying the materials (glitter, colored paper, ribbons, you know the necessities) people were surprised at what they were being used for and I was told several times that it’s a first. The kids had a really good time and I had several approach me asking if they could do something like it another time. I’m still finding glitter in my clothes.

It was the first of  many one-day events on the docket for this spring, and although it was thrown together hastily, it was a confidence booster for my ability to pull together a successful activity. Next week there will be another workshop centered around respect for the environment– also chalk full of arts and crafts– and I’m working on securing a grant to attract some new students to the older youth center by painting some murals and gardening together.

I also made a lemon cake this week, since I’m trying out cake recipes to do with my cooking class for a final party. It was SO GOOD. Most baking projects I give out to coworkers or the host family, but this cake didn’t leave the house. It tasted like something you could buy at a bakery in America– I would’ve paid dollars for it by the slice. The texture was incredibly moist, cakey but still dense and soaked in a hot lemon sauce that gave it an extra pop of sweet lemon. For those not familiar, lemon curd is a sweet spread that is usually cold and used to stack cake layers, top tarts, ice cream, or (truly decadent) morning toast. By using it while it’s still hot, the cake had an even more intense flavor that seeped into the bubbles of the cake. The frosting is a simple buttercream whipped with lemon curd and spread thinly to avoid being overly sweet. By using fresh lemons for the curd, the cake and frosting came out a vibrant lemony yellow without having to add coloring. Also note that the cake has no butter and almost no oil, although this is made up for by the obscene quantities of sugar. 

Lemon Cream Cake

• 2 cups all-purpose flour
• 1 Tablespoon baking powder
• pinch of salt
• 1 cup plain whole-milk yogurt (2 danon singles)
• 1 1/3 cup sugar
• 5 small eggs (or 4 large)
• 1 Tablespoon of grated lemon zest (~ 3 lemons)
• 1/4 cup freshly squeezed lemon juice (~ 2 lemons)
• 1/2 cup vegetable oil

In a large bowl, beat together the yogurt, sugar, eggs, zest and lemon juice. In a separate small bowl, mix the flour, baking powder and salt to combine. Add the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients and stir well. Using a spatula, lightly stir in the oil until it is just incorporated. Pour into a greased 9″ or 10″ round cake dish. Bake on the top rack of the oven over very low flame for about 40 minutes, until the edges are well browned and the middle is starting to set. Move to the bottom rack for another five minutes, until the center is firm and a fork comes out clean (or bake for 50 minutes at 350 degrees). Allow it to cool for ten minutes, and then flip upside down onto a plate. Poke a couple of holes with a fork to help absorb the lemon curd.

Yes, we ate some before it was frosted. There’s just nothing like fresh, still-hot cake.

For the frosting:

• 1 stick of butter (125 grams)
• 1 1/2 cups of powdered sugar
• remaining lemon curd

Read more at: http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/ina-garten/lemon-yogurt-cake-recipe/index.html

I am a celebrity. People know me. They know who I am, where I’m going, and what I do. Unfortunately, no one seems to realize this in Berkane.

I spent last week in Tissa, a muddy little mountain village an hour north of Fez. I was there to help the new group of incoming volunteers who are still doing their two-month language training in small groups scattered around Fez’s countryside. Right when I got back home I was sent to Sidi Bouhria, another tiny spot barely on the map about an hour from Berkane up in the Beni Snassen mountains, to help prepare the site for the incoming volunteer who will be placed there. Later this week I’ll be doing the same thing in another rural village nearby.

When I walk into a small town like Tissa or Sidi Bouhria, people immediately know who I am. In both cases, I didn’t even have to call anyone upon my arrival– a random Moroccan saw the American and knew where to take me for my meeting. The local gendarmes (police) knew when I was arriving and leaving without me telling them, and the most outgoing kids dared to walk with me where ever I went, asking a million questions about America. I got invited to tea by people whose names I didn’t know, and practically toured the town over dinner hour.

I haven’t spent much time in small towns here, so this was a new experience for me. Berkane is big enough and close enough to Europe that sure people stare at me, but no one really cares what I’m doing or even knows I’m an American. Usually I like it this way and can just go about my business. Other times, I really wish people would stop remarking on my Arabic– shouldn’t they know by know that I live here and speak the language?

I can’t ever imagine this celebrity-status happening in America. Can you imagine having an acquaintance tell you they heard you went to such-and-such cafe yesterday and then went to the store before going home? Or going to the office and having people from other departments you’ve never met before asking you to come to their house later for a snack? Or stepping outside your house and having a swarm of kids converge, asking if you like pizza and go to Church? It’d be kind of creepy, but for a week it’s pretty fun.

I’ve only ever had homemade pot pie a handful of times. Usually I think of the frozen ones, prepackaged bowls that are really hot but don’t taste like much other than salt. These little bowls are a whole other thing. The ultimate comfort food, with hot and creamy stew inside a flaky pie crust. I serve them in single portion bowls, but the recipe can also be done in one large serving dish. I skip the bottom layer of pie since it usually turns into mush anyways, and the buttery brown crust on top is certainly sufficient. This makes four to six servings, and can easily be done as leftovers by leaving the dough in the fridge and rolling it out to order throughout the week, putting the cold filling straight into the bowls since it will get nice and hot in the oven (just give it a little extra baking time). Super simple, and great for winter.

Chicken Pot Pie

For the filling:

• half a chicken
• 5 cups water
• 1 bouillon cube (knorr)
• 1 Tablespoon oregano
• 2 shallots, diced (or one large yellow onion)
• 2 cups carrots, peeled and diced
• 1/2 kilo fava beans, shelled (or 1 cup peas)
• 1/2 cup of Moroccan celery, diced
• 2 Tablespoons butter
• 3/4 cup flour
• 1/2 cup fresh parsley, cut finely