What is rfissa?

Rfissa is one of those dishes that the guidebooks rarely mention but every Moroccan grandmother can make in her sleep, and the first time I ate it in a home in Salé I understood why it never leaves the family table. Imagine a deep platter of soft, torn msemen — those flaky layered pancakes — that have been left to dry slightly, then drowned in a glistening golden broth of chicken slow-cooked with brown lentils, sweet onions and a near-medicinal handful of fenugreek seeds.

The flavour is unlike anything else in the Moroccan repertoire. Fenugreek, which we call helba, gives rfissa a slightly bitter, maple-and-celery aroma that perfumes the whole house, and it is paired with a generous, almost extravagant amount of ras el hanout and a thread of real saffron. The bread drinks up the broth until it turns into something between a soup, a stew and a pilaf — you eat it with a spoon and your fingers, and the lentils pop softly against the silky shredded chicken.

There is a beautiful tradition behind it. Rfissa is the dish cooked for a woman in the days after she gives birth, because fenugreek is believed to restore strength and encourage milk, and the dense, warming spices are thought to comfort the body. So a steaming platter of rfissa always carries a sense of celebration and care; when a family invites you to share it, they are sharing something tender.

If you want to try it, ask your riad host or a home-cooking experience to make it rather than hunting for it in restaurants — it is genuinely home food, and the best versions come out of a family kitchen on a Friday or for a new arrival. I always tell guests to go in hungry, because rfissa is generous and you will be encouraged, warmly and repeatedly, to take more.