From my 5th floor window, the light was sweet and warm for an Easter morn. I set up breakfast on the top floor where the view of the rooftops is equal to my sitting. I am in an extraordinary position between the Palazzo Vecchio of Piazza Signoria with my old …
It’s the first week in April, 2009 and the surroundings of Marrakech are covered in an unusual carpet of green. Wild flowers, wheat fields and stretches of land that have rarely known grass, are bringing a lushness to the desert that has not been seen in 40 years.
A Taste of Spring After two helpings of my asparagus risotto last night, and the um’s and ah’s around the table, I thought to bring to your attention how lovely this dish is. Risotto can be daunting, but it is rather easy to make while talking to friends in the …
“While researching a new culinary tour, food guide extraordinaire Peggy Markel visits palaces and home kitchens to learn the traditions and techniques of Northern Indian cooking.” Simply Indian: Recipes from Royal Rajasthan, written by Jen Murphy Food & Wine Magazine February 2009 Read full article. Read article excerpts.
“Although I knew her only from her “modern” life in Boulder and from traveling together in Europe, Peggy Markel actually grew up in Alabama. (Unrelated—or at least not directly related—to catfish, she runs a cooking school in Tuscany and food tours in Italy and Morocco.” Read more here.
“…For a more expansive culinary experience, including three classes with Bahija and ingredient-shopping tours of the Medina, Peggy Markel’s Culinary Adventures offers a ten-day trip to Marrakech with accommodations at Jnane Tamsna.” A Marrakech Cooking School Adventure, written by Lisa Abend Bon Appetit Magazine May 2008 Read more.
“I picked up the old-fashioned (and extremely beautiful) bellows and crouched down on the pavement to encourage the hot coals in my brazier. I was taking a tagging workshop, of all things, and one that just happened to be in paradise. Two colleagues and I were cooking and eating our way …
It was snowing in Colorado when I left. I hopped a plane to Marrakech and felt the warm winds descend and envelope me, stripping coats, shoes, and winter blues right off my body as if they dissolved into thin air.
Soban’s face has the mother love of India shining through it. Her veil comes off and on, off and on, curious and coy, respectful and shy. She is a graceful cook, her kitchen as clear and sweet as her smile. Vijay, a nobleman, was relaxed and happy to share his …
