COUSCOUS IN THE CASBAH : Served in a Bedouin tent or a chic city restaurant, Morocco’s saffron-scented’national dish’ has many styles and venues

CASABLANCA, Morocco —  Couscous is to me the ultimate “comfort food.” The mere scent of the delicate grain drenched in saffron-scented broth brings back childhood memories of meals shared with family and friends while I was growing up in Morocco. To this day, one of the many things I look forward to when I return home to Casablanca for a visit is to indulge in this special meal as often as I can.

The grain couscous is a staple of Moroccan kitchens and is consumed in much the same way as rice is in China. The word refers to the grain--a cracked durum wheat semolina--as well as to the finished dish in all its regional variations.

In traditional homes, couscous is served on Fridays, the Muslim day of rest. On more formal occasions, couscous is the final dish served at a diffa, or multi-course feast, when, as tradition demands, it immediately precedes dessert. Every housewife treasures her own recipe for couscous and dedicates hours to its preparation. And so do restaurant chefs.

In Morocco, couscous is usually steamed in a couscoussier or couscous pot, which consists of a tall double boiler topped with a fine sieve. The sieve holds the grain, which will eventually plump up to several times its size, thanks to the steam emanating from the broth. Into the pot go the ingredients for an herb-filled stock of lamb, beef or chicken, which, in addition to saffron, may be seasoned with such spices as sweet paprika, ground ginger, turmeric or cinnamon. In the Casablanca area, at least seven different kinds of fresh vegetables are added. The resulting Couscous Beidaoui, or couscous in the style of Casablanca, is brought to the table mounded on a large platter and topped with a steaming crown of meat and vegetables.

Yet regional variations of couscous abound throughout the country, as visitors to Morocco soon find out.

One hour north of Casablanca in Rabat, and in the small coastal town of Sale, across the river, couscous is mixed with orange flower water. On special occasions (inquire in advance) at Hotel de La Tour Hassan this couscous is served with a well in the center that acts as receptacle for a delicious mixture of caramelized onions and chunks of lamb simmered in a ginger-spiked broth. Halved, hard-cooked eggs provide the final decorative touch.

Another town renowned for its couscous is Fez--often called Morocco’s cultural capital. Not only is Fez the site of Karawin University, among the oldest in the Arab world, it also bills itself as the cradle of Moroccan culinary tradition. Fassis (inhabitants of Fez) need hardly any prodding to wax poetic about their local cuisine. Of course, couscous figures prominently on the menu. Sometimes when visiting friends in Fez, I am treated to a dessert of seffa, a mound of couscous sweetened with sugar and sprinkled with cinnamon. Following tradition, I wash down the sweet mixture with a refreshing glass of buttermilk. In upscale restaurants of Fez and Marrakech, seffa appears as a festive dessert during the Islamic holy month, Ramadan.

On other occasions, my craving for couscous is sated at the Palais Jamai Hotel, a historic establishment located a stone’s throw from Fez’s old city, or medina. The hotel is renowned beyond Moroccan borders for its home-style renditions of local dishes and, to my mind, dining at its Al Fassia Restaurant is just reward for a hard day of bargaining in the bazaars tucked away in Fez’s labyrinthine medina.

Seated on multicolored sofas lining the restaurant’s tile-lined walls, guests feast on a selection of courses ranging from exquisitely spiced salads to exotic stews of meat and vegetables or fruit, called tajines, and, of course, couscous.

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Dinner at Al Fassia--as in traditional households--begins with the hand-washing ceremony, when a waiter hands diners a bar of soap and pours a trickle of warm water over their upturned palms. As is often done in private homes, he then welcomes guests by sprinkling orange flower water on everyone’s hands.

In traditional settings such as this one the meal is served from a communal dish set in the center of a low, round, table, for there is also an art to consuming the grain when dining a la Marocaine. Everyone delves into the dish, using only the first three fingers of his or her right hand. To eat couscous as custom dictates, purists shape small amounts of broth-soaked grain to the size of a golf ball, and pop it into their mouth with a swift flick of the thumb. Despite much practice, I have yet to develop an aptitude for this art, and usually end up with a little pile of couscous in my lap. No matter. Silverware is commonly offered as an alternative. And with a soup spoon as my aid, I have indulged to the point of overeating on the restaurant’s Couscous Belghelmi, a perfectly accomplished mound of grain topped with meltingly tender lamb. Afterward, reclining among the plump pillows, I drowsily plotted my return visit to the souks (markets), while sipping small glasses of sweet mint tea--the Moroccan national drink.

Local color of a different sort awaits in Rissani, a desert outpost across the Atlas Mountains, about a six-hour drive south of Fez. I always look forward to my Rissani escapade, not only for the couscous, but also because the town signals the start of the casbah trail--the narrow ribbon of paved road that links a series of crenelated mud villages, or casbahs, nestled among the palm groves hugging the eastern slope of the Atlas mountains from Rissani to Taroudant.

From the oases surrounding Rissani come the world-famous, honey-sweet Medjool dates, for sale in sticky brick-shaped parcels at the Saturday souk . When the sun goes down and the Muslim calls to prayer shatter the silence of the oases, puffs of smoke rise from small communal mud ovens holding the evening’s kesra (anise-scented bread). The hustle and bustle of the souk creates a rare traffic jam, and all through the day, local Berber women wrapped head to toe in their black haiks (a sheet-like outer garment) haggle over the price of spices, or a meager amount of fresh vegetables.

Berber couscous is the specialty here, and nowhere is it as good as at the unassuming restaurant attached to the small Hotel Filalia, on the dusty town square. A flight of unevenly tiled steps leads directly into the eating area, in this case a few scattered tables and chairs overlooking the square. Time comes to a searing standstill in this Sahara town, and there is no use trying to rush things. Sometimes the wait for lunch is an hour, sometimes longer. Don’t worry, for you will be well entertained. A quick summons by the owner brings in half a dozen musicians and their cacophony of flutes, cymbals and tambourines. As if on cue, wide-eyed children appear, closely followed by elder sisters and brothers. Soon, everyone is clapping hands in rhythm to the hypnotic music.

Upon request, the henna artists make an appearance, bringing with them their paraphernalia for instant decorating. The musty scent of henna paste fills the air as women visitors lend themselves to the impromptu henna ceremony meant to honor and bring them luck. When several hands, ankles and feet are painted with intricate and lacy designs, the music abates, the henna artists melt into the walls and the crowning platter of couscous is brought triumphantly to the table. Since fresh produce is harder to come by in these arid regions, the dish usually entails large amounts of mutton in a spicier broth than is savored along the coast. To my mind, this Rissani couscous has the most subtle of flavors, blending the perfect dosage of smen , a pungent preserved butter, with just the right amounts of saffron-infused broth. In Rissani, a dish of couscous and its musical accompaniment usually add up to about $7 a person.

Further south, the oasis of Zagora is a popular departure point for trans-Sahara treks. The desert outpost’s famed road sign that in French reads, “Timbuktu, 52 days by camel,” always tickles my sense of adventure. No stay in Zagora would be complete without an evening spent under a Bedouin tent set among the sand dunes on the outskirts of town--a visit made possible through the concierges at any of the town’s hotels or through the local tour organization La Fibule du Draa.

Inside the spacious tent, flickering candlelight dances off the multicolored hangings lining the walls, while outside a slender crescent of moon hovers above the palm grove like a comma to the universe. The rest of the word seems to fade away as the wail of Berber flutes floats over the dunes, and my fellow diners and I luxuriate among the thick rugs, feasting on charcoal-broiled shish kebabs of succulent lamb, bowls filled with hearty harira (lamb and garbanzo bean soup) and platters of couscous.

At the southern end of the casbah trail, another gustatory highlight awaits. It is a feast of home-style cuisine served up at the historic Palais Salam Hotel, located within the walls of Taroudant, a flower-bedecked town near the coast. Here, eating couscous sometimes turns into a multicultural experience, as it did for me one Thanksgiving, several years ago.

After I explained to the chef the purpose of our annual day of thanks in the United States, he promptly disappeared into the kitchen. Later that evening, our table groaned under its decorative load of whole pumpkins, squash and fruit. Suddenly, a group of beaming waiters in starched white coats brought in a honey-basted turkey studded with crimson hibiscus blossoms. The stuffing? An ambrosial blend of sweetened couscous, plump raisins and chopped dates faintly touched with cinnamon.

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A different style of cooking prevails in Marrakech, which like Fez prides itself on its regional cuisine. Known as the Pink City because of its uniform ochre-colored landscape, Marrakech caters to a growing community of jet-setters. And thanks to this influence, the city of over a million, where the best food was once savored only in local homes, now boasts a variety of eating establishments featuring a cuisine and decor worthy of scenes from the classic “A Thousand and One Nights.”

The Yacout Restaurant, for one, a jewel of Moorish architecture restored to its original grandeur, lies deep within the Marrakech medina. This romantic restaurant often serves as an exquisite fairy-tale refuge for European movie stars and artists. Dinner here is strictly by reservation, and costs up to $50 per person from pre-dinner champagne to post-dinner liqueur, with a five- or six-course meal between.

At Chez Ali, a vast tent city about 30 minutes north of downtown by taxi, visitors can see a show and dine in the Marrakech palm grove, and both the meal and the folkloric theater are worth the detour. The imposing presentation--which seems inspired by Disneyland--features tribal costumed waiters and waitresses, who also double as entertainers. The preparation of the savory couscous is supervised by none other than the owner’s mother. Cost is about $20 a person, for the show and a multi-course dinner.

An exotic atmosphere of a different sort awaits adventurous eaters who head for the food stalls lining the world-famous Djmaa el Fna Square, or the Square of the Dead. Every evening at dusk, the square serves as a gathering place for snake charmers, fireeaters and storytellers. Beyond the rings of bystanders, rows of rickety tables are jammed with locals savoring fast-food “Marrakech-style,” from sandwiches of freshly-grilled shish kebab to whole fish fried to a crisp to couscous topped with fiery green chiles, for a few dollars.

Although I enjoy sampling couscous in public eating places, none comes close in subtlety and flavor to our family friend Bouchaib Marzouk’s homemade fish couscous. Bouchaib lives 50 miles south of Casablanca in the picturesque town of Azemmour, a former Portuguese stronghold still protected by massive ramparts. Early in the morning, I like to follow him through the maze of streets to the fish market, where we stand toe-to-toe with dozens of locals crowding the fish stalls. Alose, a bony species of shad that inhabits the wide estuary of the nearby Oum er Rbia river, is what we are after for Bouchaib’s couscous. For that local specialty, thinly sliced onions simmer with raisins and an assortment of spices in the wide couscous pot, to serve as a topping for the lightly cooked fish fillets. While you can’t have Marzouk’s fish couscous, something similar can be sampled at La Perle de l’Atlantique, a little seafood place on Haouzia Plage (beach) in Azemmour.

But whether sampled at the source in Casablanca, Fez or Marrakech, couscous is not only the best introduction to Morocco’s regional cuisines. It is in most instances also a matter of great pride for the cook who will bid you “Bismillah!” May you enjoy this meal. And you must honor the host and eat heartily.

GUIDEBOOK

Mealtime in Morocco

Casablanca: Restaurant Al Mounia, 95 Rue Prince Moulay Abdallah; about $30 per person for a five-course dinner; telephone locally: 22-26-69.

Restaurant Le Basman, Angle Blvd. Biarriatz et Blvd. de la Corniche, Ain Diab (on the coast); tel. 39-19-95.

Restaurant Le Tajine, Centre 2000, Avenue Moulay Abderahmanne; tel. 27-64-00.

Rabat: Le Kanoun, 2 Rue d’Ifni; about $10-$15 for dinner; no phone number available.

Hotel de La Tour Hassan, 22 Rue Abderrahman Annagai (near Avenue Mohammed V); lunch about $12-$15 per person; tel. 73-38-41.

Fez: Palais Jamai Hotel, Bab el Guissa, Medina; about $30 per person for a four- to five-course dinner; tel. 63-46-31/32/33.

Meknes: Restaurant Palais Terrab, 18 Avenue Zerktouni, Meknes; multicourse meal about $20 per person; tel. 52-61-00.

Volubilis: Hotel Volubilis Inn, Jnane Zitoune, Village Fertassa, face ruines de Volubilis,B.P. 20, Zerhoun; multicourse Moroccan meal under a large tent, about $20 per person; tel. 54-43-69.

Rissani: Hotel Filalia Restaurant, on the main square; lunch about $7 per person; tel. 51.

Zagora: La Fibule du Draa, Route de M’hammid, B.P. 11, Zagora; dinner under the tent about $20 per person; tel. 84-73-18.

Marrakech: Yacout Restaurant, 79 Sidi Ahmed Soussi, Marrakech medina; dinner by reservation only, about $50 per person; tel. 31-01-04.

Chez Ali restaurant and folkloric show in the Marrakech palm grove; offices: 2 Rue Ibn Aicha, Immeuble Bella, Marrakech; dinner and show about $25 per person; tel. 481-87 or 430-77 for reservations.

Taroudant: Palais Salam Hotel, Taroudant;multicourse dinner about $20 per person; tel. 85-21-30.

Zagora: Dinner under a Bedouin tent on the outskirts of town; contact concierges at any of the town’s hotels or the local tour organization La Fibule du Draa; about $25 per person; no phone available.

Azemmour: La Perle de l’Atlantique, on Haouzia Plage; about $10 for lunch; no phone available.

For more information: Contact the Moroccan National Tourist Office, 20 East 46th St., New York; (212) 557-2520.