Morocco is rich in movie history and the center of that history is Ouarzazate. So naturally there is a museum called Musee du Cinema because that’s apparently the way you say movie museum in French. And just like all other museums, this one has a cafe nearby for hungry travelers.

After glancing at the menu, I decided to get the Kefta Kebab and Fries. Unlike other kefta, this didn’t come in some sort of a tajine, but really was cooked like a kebab and then dropped on the plate. In fact, it’s hard to even call it a meatball because they came out rolled like logs. In addition to the fries, it came with some rice, a couple of olives and some tomato slices. I ignored those last two and concentrated on the real food.

The kefta was pretty good, but a bit on the dry side. The fries were also a bit disappointing, but at least the rice was rice. So, basically it was exactly what you would expect from a cafe next to museum. Not the worst meal, but nothing special in any way.

On our way back from the Sahara, we stopped in Nkob for lunch at a spot creatively named Kasbah Nkob. The place had a pretty stellar view of the city and surrounding oasis, but you don’t want to know about that. You want to know about their food. And this food looked almost exactly like it was pulled from the book of generic Moroccan food for tourists. Except for one thing.

That one thing was a tajine, but unlike other tajines I had encountered thus far, this one was made with plum and almond and our waiter even called it a specialty. I like feeling special, so I ordered this one and was eager to see how it would differ from the usual lemons and onions. And it was certainly different, topped with some hard-boiled egg and the aforementioned plums and almonds. Of course, it still had onions for flavor and whatnot. Unfortunately, as far as the chicken went, it was probably one of the worst tajines in terms of flavor. Although I know it isn’t true, the chicken breast tasted like it was cooked separately and just kind of added to the mix. I liked the bites of almond and plum, and assume with more prep the chicken could have been better. But alas this was not the case.

I did, at least, get to taste and egg and kefta dish that my wife ordered and it tasted pretty great. Oh, and we also got a bunch of fries for the table, so you can’t really go wrong with those. Well I guess you can, but Kasbah Nkob didn’t.

Anyway, Kasbah Nkob seemed to subscribe to the notion that many places with good views don’t have to offer good food. It wasn’t bad, but at least the special didn’t live up to being special.

While hanging out in Merzouga, we made our way to the Sudanese part of town (actually populated former slaves brought in from sub-Saharan Africa). It was there that we stopped to eat at a place called Cafe Restaurant Nora, which was apparently not named for my cousin Nora but for the daughter of the owner. Whatever. We were actually more excited about lunch than usual (I know, hard to believe), because we were told that Nora specialized in a “Saharan Pizza” (also known as “Berber Pizza.”)

What exactly would Saharan Pizza be, we weren’t too sure. One thing we did know, however, was that there was both a spicy and not spicy version and we ordered both. And also very quickly we learned that this unique meal came with its own unique version of Moroccan Salad. This iteration was mostly rice and a string of cooked vegetables like red peppers, but most notable was the hard-boiled egg shavings that I had never seen before and might never see again.

As for the Saharan Pizza, we were told that the old-school preparation process involved about a four-hour cooking period quite literally in the sand dunes in the desert. But even in Morocco time is money and the cooking process has shortened greatly because of like ovens and stuff. Our two pizzas arrived uncut and looking like giant, flat calzones. Without a pizza slicer in sight, our waiter cut our pizzas into slices using a scary-sharp knife instead.

The slices were pretty sizable, although not nearly as thick as Chicago-style deep dish. Each bite seemed to be a little different than the one before, but through it all I was able to distinguish what I believed to be beef, egg, onion and something like cumin. Oddly enough there was no cheese, pepperoni or tomato sauce to speak of. It was certainly an interesting mix of flavors, but for some reason I found the beef to be weirdly tough to chew. As a meat man, this did put a damper on the Saharan Pizza. I also found that my spicy pizza had no distinguishable kick compared to the other.

Our pizza was followed by a delicious desert dessert of orange slices sprinkled with cinnamon and pomegranate. It was a good way to close things out and while I doubt I will be craving Saharan Pizza anytime soon, I am certainly happy that Cafe Restaurant Nora gave me the chance to try it out. And let me be clear: it is certainly worth trying out even if you don’t exactly leave wanting more.

While “riad” may be a common word for “hotel” in Morocco, due to the French influence in the country, “auberge” comes up pretty often as well. So when we stayed right next to the Sahara in Merzouga our hotel was called Auberge Les Roches. Auberge Le Sable would probably have been a more appropriate name, but whatevsies. As with a couple other stops, our hotel was also our restaurant for the night and that could only mean one thing: tajine.

The tajine served at Auberge Les Roches was a variation of one I’d seen many times before, but never ordered by me. That’s because it was filled with about 7 or so different vegetables. Fortunately, buried beneath those that would ruin my meal was a bunch of chicken. And the chicken was fine, but it was really probably the least delicious of any I had eaten yet. It probably has something to do with a lack of awesome citrus flavors, but whatever the reason I will recommend Auberge Les Roches for the rooms and the view much more than the food.

On the way to the Sahara Desert, we stopped at a place called Restaurant Inass in Tinghir. Despite the name of the place, I assumed the was served in the mouth as opposed to…well…the name of the place. The restaurant had a deep back outdoor area and we found ourselves a seat. And before our meal came out, we were brought a nice little dish of noodles with nuts, cinnamon and sugar. But that’s not all.

We were also brought out some crushed lentil soup that was equally unexpected. Both of these were good and the lentil soup was even better when I added a bit of harissa to the stuff. As for my meal, despite the fact that Restaurant Inass had some Italian on the menu, I stuck with Moroccan for my meal. I ordered the Tajine with chicken, lemon and olives, because sometimes you just can’t get enough tajine.

The meal turned out to be pretty good and fortunately I was expected to eat it in the traditional way. Again, the chicken wasn’t as tender as I had had before and didn’t have quite as much flavor as the sauce itself, but it was certainly nothing to complain about. Well, especially considering how my dad reacted to the Italian food he ordered (hint: not a good reaction, but then my dad has an interesting taste in food).

It was a good stop considering the long road ahead of us to the Sahara. But if they could change their name I’m guessing they could do a whole lot better.

What’s chwarma? Some might say it’s simply how you spell schwarma in Morocco. At least that’s what I thought when we stopped at Cafe Restaurant L’Etoile in the Djemaa Al Fnaa (Big Square) of Marrakesh’s Medina. We kind of stopped there on a whim considering every other place we had been to was a success so far, and I proceeded to order a Chwarma Sandwich with a side of frites.

While unvegan travel rules stipulate that I can order my food with veggies, I still try to avoid any uncooked veggies for fear of beaver fever, so I ordered my chwarma without. This was a fail, so I sent it back and asked for it without salad this time and it worked. Unfortunately, while chwarma does appear to be how schwarma is spelled in Morocco, the version L’Etoile pumped out was more of a dry, flavorless compression of shaved chicken.

It was certainly disappointing, but perhaps a good example of the bad touristy food I had been warned against in the Big Square. Luckily I had already eaten some good food in the square and knew it wasn’t all like L’Etoile.