I live in a 300-year-old house in the Marrakech medina. It sits in the Ksour quarter, near Jemaa el Fna, on a quiet derb where the neighbours know each other's bread by shape. The courtyard has a fountain and the kitchen smells like cumin and cinnamon and whatever I'm experimenting with that week.
I came to Morocco eleven years ago. I stayed because the food was extraordinary, the light was extraordinary, and the house wouldn't let me leave.
This is a journal about what I cook and what life looks like from inside these walls. My kitchen is a crossroads — Chinese and Mauritian and Canadian and everywhere I've lived, filtered through whatever is at the souk that morning. Sometimes there are recipes. Sometimes it's just what the courtyard looked like at six am with the steam coming off my tea.
The house also welcomes guests. If you're curious about that, you can find more at riaddisiena.com.