Foodie pal — and guest blogger Tom Fakler’s better half (sorry, Tom, Anita made me say that!) — Anita Breland of Anita’s Feast, finds herself back with Tom at their guest house in Fez’s medina creating new Moroccan food memories that she has graciously offered to share with you, my darling FW warriors.

Anita’s a well-seasoned traveller and food writer and I’m honoured to have her as today’s guest blogger.

Take it away, Anita!

Anita’s Couscous memories

Last Friday, Tom and I shared couscous with our medina friend Abdelnasser and his family. Within minutes of our meeting up with him at Place Sefarine, he had asked after our “ami Canadiene,”[that's me, your humble Fridge Whisperer, who along with Anita and Tom broke bread with Abdelnasser and his family in the fall of '09] and invited us to dinner.

Of course we said yes!

As before, there was quite a run-up to the meal. This time, Saida served an appetizer of sweet harcha, Laughing Cow cheese and olives; and mint tea, frothed into glasses with a characteristic swoosh.

She let me help with meal preparation, too, and set me peeling and chopping with one of those do-everything paring knives. Carrots, potatoes and zucchini for the couscous and more. When a fleck of carrot threatened to leap onto my white blouse, she was there in a flash, admonishing me to take care.

The pressure cooker spit and whistled while Saida tossed couscous with oil and set it to steam. Ouija and Mustafa showed us highlights from family photo albums: a recent wedding; a family holiday in Tangier; a picture of you, dear Fridge Whisperer, and me with Abdelnasser and his copper creations.

When, with a flourish, the couscous was brought to the table, it was as always: right hands spooning up salads from tiny plates, then couscous and vegetables, and finally, everyone tearing lamb into delectable bits. Following custom, Saida selected the choicest pieces for Tom and me.

When we were down to couscous remnants, Saida reminded us of her mother’s attempt to teach us how to roll and toss balls of couscous. She demonstrated the technique once again, and motioned for me to give it a try. My efforts set off gales of laughter and earned me a pan and towel for washing up.

It was a Moroccan family day of the best kind, and though it’s been almost two years since you, dear Fridge Whisperer, joined me in kitchens here, it felt like yesterday. The connections we made then are remarkably current — the four kisses greetings; the frequent evocations of our previous visit; and not least, an invitation to join the family to break the fast during the upcoming month of Ramadan.

How I wish you could be with us for that!

Me, too, Anita. Me too!