Choumicha--Keeping It Real

If you've spent any time in Morocco, you are likely familiar with the smiling face of Choumicha. She has her own T.V. show and a magazine, both of which highlight la cuisine marocaine.

I have to say, while much of the country is enamored of her, I find her show (not necessarily her) annoying at times; perhaps it has to do with the fact that her clothes always remain spotless, even after tending a bubbling tagine.

However, petty grievances aside, she deserves our heartfelt gratitude for the simple fact that she takes her show on the road, seeking out masters and mistresses of rapidly vanishing regional culinary secrets.

For a couple of years now, I've been making the argument that the new generation of young Moroccan women, particularly from the upper classes, has forgotten (or never learned) how to cook. The reasons for this are varied; many wealthy families have women who are hired to do the cooking, and the daughters of the house never set foot in the kitchen. Another reason is that more and more women are working outside the home, and so can't stay at home with their kids to teach them how to cook. Also, take-out food is becoming cheaper and more accessible, and with hectic schedules, it's much easier to buy a pizza (when in Bourgogne, I recommend Pizza Lhabib)than to spend hours preparing a traditional meal.

If my arguments don't convince you, then maybe this will: out of all the Moroccan women I know, only two, including me (and I'm not even Moroccan) know or bother to make chebbakia, a traditional fried cookie, for Ramadan. The rest buy them (trust me, homemade are a thousand times better than store bought).

To make matters worse, the old dadas (family cooks, usually in Fassi families) are dying off, and they take their secrets to the grave.


What's to become of Moroccan cooking? Not the what-the-hell-am-I-eating fare, like the little canapes with "cacher" (suspiciously pink lunch meat whose name comes from the word for "kosher"), or quiche with canned corn and tuna, but the down home recipes that are a few hundred years old. Will Koutoubia meats conquer all, or is there still hope?

Enter Choumicha, always dressed for success, clad in a djellaba when visiting a mountain village, wearing a chic pantsuit while under the tutelage of a chef in a well-known Casablanca restaurant. While her regular T.V. show is one that I find less than stellar, her regional show is, simply put, marvellous. And it bears mentioning here that being a T.V. personality in Morocco does not come with all the perks that it does in the U.S. Sure, Choumicha is well-known, adored by most, and probably financially secure. But she does all of her traveling by bus, along with her crew, which in Morocco means grueling, day-long rides in cramped quarters over often bumpy roads. That's dedication.

If you read French and happen to visit Morocco, try to pick up a copy of Choumicha's magazine, Cuisine du Maroc. The recipes can be hit or miss, but the pictures, at least, are enough to make you salivate.


Shukran Choumicha! Tbark Allah alaik!