First of all, a funny story. A couple of years ago I came back from some months away in England (my wife and I split our time between our two countries). I went into the local pharmacy and spotted a big old weighing machine, the old fashioned kind you stand on and read your weight off its clockface. So on I got. And leapt off again in horror. Somehow between England and Morocco I had gained 10kg! My strangled yelp attracted the attention of the assistant. “I think your weighing machine is out of order,” I told her, and explained the problem.
She laughed. “Ah, I see. Don’t worry, you’ve not gained weight: we always add a few kilos … to flatter the ladies.”
You’re probably frowning now: confused. But here in the Berber area of Morocco till very recently only a poor man would have a thin wife. We valued women with curves, voluptuous curves: the bigger the better. Things are changing a little now as global culture pokes its fingers into every living room via satellite television; but I can still remember when mothers here would feed their daughters up in order to make them more marriageable. Rich pastes of melon seeds and oil and nut butters: and amlou, a combination of almonds, argan oil and honey.
Here in the southwest of Morocco there grows a very special tree. You can see it everywhere in our landscape: the solitary trees stand out like sentinels on the dry and dusty hillsides, on the granite plateaus, in deep mountain gullies. By the side of the road you may find them infested with climbing goats – an extraordinary sight! Ancient, gnarled, spiny and with a rough, deeply striated bark that looks like dragonskin, these are argan trees, a sort of Moroccan ironwood.
Their fruit is a large, hard, olive-like nut. This is the source of what we call Moroccan gold – argan oil – reputed to be the most expensive condiment in the world. Argan trees are ancient and rare: they can't be cultivated and it takes over 50 years for them to bear fruit. It takes an average of 30 kgs – 75 pounds – of the fruits to produce a single litre of oil, with much of the rendering process done by hand. It takes an average of 30 kgs – 75 pounds – of the fruits to produce a single litre of oil, with much of the rendering process done by hand. A few argan trees can be a family's most valuable asset. Traditionally, goats are sent into the trees at harvest time and allowed to strip and eat the fruit. Once the goats digest their feast, the hard kernels of the fruits left behind are collected, washed, roasted and pressed to produce a fine, nutty oil with a flavour lying somewhere between hazelnut and sesame. But in case you're wrinkling your nose now, don't worry: the production of most argan oil skips the goat intestines bit nowadays!
For centuries, argan oil has formed the basis of many Berber health and cosmetic treatments. In our village people have long taken a spoonful of the oil as a digestive aid. They rub it on their skin to prevent wrinkles; they massage it into the body to keep it supple. Women treat their hair with it to make it strong and shiny. We now know it is extremely high in antioxidants and omega-3, that it is good for diabetes and high blood pressure; and you can hardly go anywhere in Europe without seeing extortionately expensive hair and beauty treatments containing argan or ‘Moroccanoil’.
But its most traditional use remains culinary. Argan oil is drizzled on salads and soups, like truffle oil; rubbed through the last steaming of the Friday couscous.
My region is the chief almond-growing area in Morocco, and the combination of almonds and argan is a very happy one indeed, and has given birth to that most traditional of breakfast spreads: amlou, a rich nut paste that has been eaten here for centuries.
I could give you the traditional recipe, but I won’t – not unless you are the proud owner of a granite quern – necessary for pulverising the cooked almonds to the finest of grains, ready to mix with argan oil and the strong local honey, harvested from bees that feed on mountain herbs – lavender, thyme and rosemary.
Amlou is like the pampered offspring of Nutella and the best ever peanut butter: but with a softer texture, made for dipping bread or hot peace pancakes into. It is the most delicious thing, the perfect luxury with which to start your day. The only trouble is fitting back into your jeans when it’s time to go back to England…