Ouarzazarte and the Restaurant Relais St Exupery

Ouarzazarte has two claims to fame. One is the seven day Marathon des Sables, a seven day race through the desert that begins and ends in this desert town. Runners carry everything they need with them for the seven days, including provisions and tents. In one day alone they run 78 km. The other is the Atlas Studios, where parts of Kundun, Kingdom of Heaven, and Asterix and Obelix were filmed among countless Cleopatra films. One afternoon I took the kitschy but fun tour of the studios. The jet plane prop from The Jewel of the Nile had seen better days. It was parked right in front of the Tibetan temple built for Kundun.

That morning I had gone to Ait Benadou, a ruined and then restored kasbah some 30km from town, which has been used in films ranging from Lawrence of Arabia to Gladiator. It took a series of grand taxis to arrive, and when I was done I was somewhat stranded for transportation. I waited in the sun with two Moroccan women and one Moroccan man for a passing taxi or car to pick us up. Tourists drove by. One couple smiled and waved. The man turned to me. "Tourists no good," he said.

Then a passing Frenchman stopped. He said he was heading all the way back to Ouarzazarte, and opened the doors of his van to us. When we arrived, I offered to pay him. He waved my offer away with a smile. The Moroccan women laughed at my attempt and smiled and said goodbye.

My first afternoon in Ouarzazarte I ate at the Restaurant Relais St Exupery on the edge of town. The cafe is decorated with aviation photos and memorabilia of the Little Prince in homage to the author and pilot who was sometimes based there. I was the only guest.

I had come to lunch for the cheaper set menu, but once my eyes looked over the other options, I cast that menu aside for trout from the Atlas mountains in Amadine sauce with three types of rice (saffron, pilaf, and natural). Jean Pierre asked if I liked oysters. I said yes. The waitress brought the amuse bouche, puff pastries with pate and tomato paste.

Next came a fish soup that tasted as though it was flown in from Brittany, and then the raw oysters on the half shell. I never thought I would have eaten such food in the desert, and when I told Catherine, she commented that that was pretty adventurous. Then came the trout, deliciously prepared with three small boules of rice. Once I had cleaned my plate of the fish, the waitress offered me a shot of alcohol made from figs to cleanse my palette before serving a slice of bread with Berber cheese infused with saffron. I practically licked my knife.

For dessert, I chose Jean Pierre's recommendation, the Tazlida. Four small slices of Berber biscuit cakes made with figs, almonds, and hazelnut infused with orange flour floated in fresh cream, a dollop of chocolate on each and in between, forming a nine square pattern. It was heavenly.

As I paid the bill I asked how much he would sell a toothpick holder for. They were white emblazoned with a blue drawing of the Little Prince under which was written "a Ouarzazarte." He apologized but said he couldn't sell any. The person who made his porcelain has since retired, and what he has is all he has left.

At the door, I told him that it was the best meal that I had had in Morocco. I told him I might be back the next day. He laughed as I said, "A demain."

And though I debated going back, I did. For the pigeon pastilla, perfectly seasoned with sugar and cinnamon so as not to overwhelm the tender meat. That meal began with a cool cucumber gazpacho seasoned with chili, and a Moroccan salad comprised of eggplant and two small rounds of tomato and onion chopped together and drizzled with balsamic vinegar. Fantastic.
Posted by eku at September 23, 2005 3:42 PM