What does a typical Moroccan lunch look like?

In Morocco, lunch — not dinner — is the heart of the day, the meal families gather for and businesses pause around. It usually begins with a scatter of cooked salads to scoop with bread: zaalouk, taktouka, carrots, perhaps lentils, set out to share. Bread is on the table from the first moment and stays until the last, because it is the tool you eat with. There is no rushing; people arrive, settle, and ease into it.

Then the centrepiece lands, often a single large dish set in the middle for everyone to share. On most days it is a tagine — chicken with preserved lemon and olives, lamb with prunes and almonds, kefta baked with eggs, or a fragrant vegetable version — slow-cooked until the meat falls and the sauce is concentrated. Everyone eats from the same dish, each person working their own section in front of them, pinching food with bread and the right hand. It is intimate and surprisingly tidy once you get the knack.

Friday is special: the traditional day for couscous, the great communal mound steamed and topped with seven vegetables and tender meat, eaten after midday prayers. It is the dish that says "family" more than any other, and many Moroccans return home specifically for it. Whatever the day, the meal usually ends simply — a platter of fresh seasonal fruit, oranges, melon or grapes, rather than heavy dessert.

And then, always, mint tea, poured from height and sipped slowly while conversation drifts. My advice: when you are invited to a Moroccan lunch, eat from your own side of the shared plate, use your right hand, accept seconds (refusing can seem ungrateful), and pace yourself — there is more coming than you expect. On our trips a home-hosted Friday couscous is one of the experiences guests remember most.