When I visited my father in December of 2004 in Casablanca, he was diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer. He was weak, very jaundice with skin and whites of eyes were yellow as well. I was so shocked by his appearance that I started crying as I hugged him. I sat down next to him with my face buried in his shoulders as I cried my eyes out. I could feel his weak hands, touching my hair, and rubbing my back, whispering to me out of the side of his mouth in the way he always did : “ Matbkich abnti, rani bikhir ", which means: “My daughter, please don't cry, I am fine”.
Showing posts from March, 2015
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Finally, I put that cake in the box, ready to go! It took me two good hours to finish it. Such a torture to bake and smell a chocolate cake but not be allowed to touch it, it was meant for someone else's Birthday. The torture was getting worse when it came to finalise its decoration, and being a mad chocolaty myself, I let my imagination coming up with ways to fill this cake with a layer upon layer of chocolate and strawberry goodness. In total I sliced 4 layers, it was supposed to be a sky-high four-layered chocolate-strawberry cake, problem though, I ran out of chocolate icin g, so I decided to stop at the 3 rd layer.
Pour avoir de beaux enfants donnez-leur du LAIT GUIGOZ / Halwat L' Ghoraf” or “ Halwat Guigoz / حلوة الغراف
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I'm beginning to believe that I was born in the right place and on the right time, because I would have starved if I was born any earlier when sweets and cookies were a luxury! Blogging about food brings a lot of my childhood memories, and this post is one of them. My children always ask me what is in a dessert I am about to serve, but they never ask me how it got its name and frankly they don't care as long as it tastes good. The origins of cookies/sweets in Kingdom of Morocco are as interesting as the sweets themselves, and this is one special 60s/80s cookies, which deserves food blog attention.