B'stilla - Moroccan Pigeon Pie

   

      

I was recently reminded of a meal I had in Morocco. Earlier on the second day of our trip, we had toured the massive Hassan II Mosque in Casablanca and then driven up the coastline to Rabat, Morocco’s capitol. Evening approached as we walked from our hotel to the medina, which in Rabat is quite small. Unfortunately, most of the shops were closed and our dining options seemed limited. However, we did come upon a Moroccan man dressed in a kaftan holding a single lantern. He stood in front of a sign indicating a restaurant, but there was no restaurant in site, only shuttered doors and vacant streets. He did not speak English and could not answer our questions. Instead, he beckoned for us to follow him. With hopes for dinner ahead, we left caution behind and followed this solitary light into the narrow, twisting alleys of the medina. All was dark and quiet around us as we walked, him in his padded shoes and flowing robe, us with only uncertainty. First right, then right again, a left and then a right. Where were we going?  Where was he taking us?  Then, finally a door where we stopped. With a knock a small portal opened - foreigners for dinner, would it be ours or theirs? 

    

With a small tip and thanks we stepped through the door and into another world. The first thing that encountered us was music, traditional drums and stringed instruments, then the warm light of a many lanterned interior, then colors of festooned fabrics and patterned rugs and pillows, then the din of fellow diners, a dozen or more sitting at tables throughout the space, enjoying their conversations and their meals. Finally, the smells of Moroccan spices and cooking: cinnamon, cumin, turmeric, and saffron. Relief was quickly replaced with indulgence in all that surrounded us. On this night I had bastila - Moroccan pigeon pie.  A traditional dish in a traditional setting, it found my pigeons under a sweet and savory crust with onions, almonds, egg, cinnamon and saffron. So why no recipe below? Well, I didn’t particularly like it. It was a little dry for my tastes and there’s not much meat on a pigeon! But, that was an evening that has inspired my Moroccan cooking countless times since. The sights, the sounds, the emotional trepidation and release, all of that can be recalled with our most basic sensory perceptions: smell and taste. It is thoughts like this that inspires me to cook, travel, and perhaps cook a chicken, apricot and almond tagine tonight!