Is Moroccan food spicy? What if I don't like spicy food?

This is one of the biggest misconceptions I correct, and it relieves a lot of people: Moroccan food is not spicy in the burning, chilli sense. It is deeply spiced — there is a difference. The kitchen leans on warm, aromatic spices like cumin, coriander, cinnamon, ginger, turmeric, paprika and saffron, and the famous ras el hanout blend, all of which add fragrance and depth rather than heat. A tagine tastes layered and complex, not hot. People who cannot handle a vindaloo eat Moroccan food happily all day.

Where heat does exist, it is almost always on the side and under your control. Harissa — the fiery red chilli paste — is the one genuinely spicy thing, and it is served as a condiment in a little dish for you to add as you wish, never stirred into the cooking pot. So you simply leave it alone. Street-grilled merguez sausages can have a gentle kick, and a few Berber dishes use a little more pepper, but none of it is the eye-watering heat you might fear. The default Moroccan plate is mild.

If you are heat-sensitive, the phrase worth knowing is 'sans piquant' in French (not spicy) or 'bla harr' in Arabic, and you can say it when ordering. Honestly you rarely need to, because the food is mild to start with, but it is a useful reassurance and kitchens respect it instantly. I have taken plenty of clients who describe themselves as 'really can't do spice' through a full Moroccan food trip without a single uncomfortable mouthful — the flavour does all the work without the burn.

For nervous palates I usually start people on the gentlest, most universally loved dishes: chicken tagine with preserved lemon and olives, lamb with prunes, kefta, couscous, the fresh salads, harira soup, and bread with olive oil. These showcase exactly what Moroccan cooking is about — aromatic warmth — and prove the point on the first night. By the end of the trip most 'no spice' travellers are pleasantly surprised by how flavourful, comforting and un-fiery the food turned out to be.