A palace restaurant is one of the gastronomic suggestions to us by Mohamed Ait Bahadou, our tour operator and, as the name suggests, a palace restaurant is an old palace or a great house that’s been turned into a restaurant, with normally a fixed-price, three- or five-course meal, and a live show thrown in. Our first foray in Fes to one such establishment close to the riad we were staying in proved abortive due to the very high table d’hote charges and the absence of any prime seating. In Marrakech on one of our nights out, we threw caution to the winds, or rather my daughter did, as she offered to pick up the tab to celebrate her upcoming job. As the famed Le Comptoir was booked out, we chose the Palais Jad Mahal. Large and lavish it was, and strewn with long-legged women at the reception, who gazed at us balefully and then whisked us in. There were more women at the entrance, but these had trays of lights balanced on their heads. Hmm, I thought to myself, a great idea for a Fevicol ad. Surreally enough, there’s also a Cossack presence, in the form of more lithe-limbed lasses, clad in Cossack finery, all for that Instagram moment.
Seated at our table, we space out our food and drink order so that we can at least justify our presence when the floor show begins at 10 pm. I decide to order a Mojito (160 Moroccan Dirhams / ~ INR 1,200) made with the famed Moroccan mint. Duly at 10 pm, the music blares and the show begins. A series of belly dancers makes their way across the tables, picking out the more prosperous-looking gents or ladies at each, and inviting them to sway a while. I clearly did not make the cut. They’re followed by the ladies with the lamps and then some fire breathers. The Palais is arranged in a hexagonal shape with a large courtyard in the middle, that is glassed off from the tables around. The performers make their way around all the tables and then to the courtyard for their last stop. A tick mark on our itinerary, albeit an expensive one, but when in Marrakech…
It’s ironic that I’m using the back of the public health form given to us on the flight to scribble this review. Googling Marrakech bars throws up a number of results, and a bar called Barometre appears top on the list on quite a few of the pages. And although I’m tired after our long drive through the Atlas Mountains to reach Marrakech, I decide to venture out. Rue Moulay Ali, where Barometre is located, is lined with bars, and I discover as I reach that it’s a speakeasy bar, albeit one with a bouncer at the gate, who guides you down the steps to a cosy cocktail bar, with seven tables and a few bar stools, and buzzing on a Tuesday night. The first thing that strikes me is the interesting look of the front and back bar. The bar counter is lined with small jars with a range of spices, and the back bar with larger jars filled with strange-coloured liquids bubbling away silently (okay, I made that last part up). Cocktails are 140-160 Moroccan Dirhams each (INR 1,000-1,200).
Wissal, our well-trained waitress, informs my brother (who’s just joined me) and I that Barometre’s been around for six years and is Marrakech’s only speakeasy bar. I ask her favourite from the menu. “I’m a strong woman,” she replies, “and I like Crystal Meth [Tequila / Citric Acid / Blue Curacao].” So, I go with that, hoping it’s not something that gets me seven years in solitary. My brother orders an Apotecary (Vodka / Gin / Citron / Ginger / Geranium Miel / Aromatic Herbs). My cocktail is served playfully with a syringe of tequila on top, a glass and a beaker filled with the cocktail. I inject some tequila into the glass, some into the beaker, and some into my mouth. “What next?” I ask Wissal. “Now I’ll see you next week,” she says. The Crystal Meth was nice and balanced, but my brother had his thumbs down for the Apotecary. The last time we were out drinking together was at The Aviary in Chicago in 2018, so Barometre had high standards to live up to.
The place is filled with couples, the music is buzzy and the vibe is nice. So, we decide to stay on for one more drink. “Why’s this drink called Churchill?” I ask Wissal, in the mood for some more of her dry wit. “When he was asked if it was early to drink,” she replied, “he said ‘somewhere it’s time’.” Clichéd but true. I go with the Churchill (Cognac / Whisky / Thyme honey / orange bitters / almond liquor), served in a cigar-smoked glass and my brother has a Tulum, their version of a Pina Colada (white rum / coconut liquor / pineapple juice / cream / orange blossom). The Tulum is excellent — creamy and coconutty — and clearly the star of the show for the evening.
The drinks on the whole are gimmicky and colourful, served in a variety of vessels, from a ceramic flask for the Apotecary to the beaker for my drink and a cylindrical glass vessel for the Tulum. Wissal is kind enough to serve us a shot each on the house, as she presents the bill. Hmm, I think to myself as we leave, I do hope that Marrakech has more to offer for the cocktailian.
Suchita Salwan, the LBB founder, stays true to her role as a content discoverer. She spots a story of mine indicating that I’m in Marrakech and drops me a message. “You must visit El Fenn, a rooftop bar in the Medina,” she says. Rooftops are indeed the vibe in Marrakech, especially those with views of the Moorish minaret of the 12th-century Koutoubia Mosque. El Fenn is a boutique hotel, with a designer store at the ground level, and a winding staircase that takes us up to the rooftop. There’s a pool on the rooftop with sunbeds around it, a well-stocked island bar and a gorgeous view of the Koutoubia, with the Atlas Mountains in the far backdrop. We grab the last bit of shade and scan the menu, appreciative that there’s a due nod to local ingredients and fresh ones. Cocktails are priced at around 160 Moroccan Dirhams (~INR 1,200), which appears to be par for the course pricing in Marrakech.
We start with an El Fenn Mule, with saffron-infused vodka and a Hibiscus Ginger Margarita, with fresh homemade hibiscus syrup and fresh ginger. Both cocktails are on point, and perfectly balanced with a sharp bite of ginger in my Mule. I ask for a taster of the saffron-infused vodka. It has a nice flavour to it and I upend the remnants into my Mule Mug. For my last drink, I order a Marrakech Negroni, that uses cardamom and citron-infused vermouth, proof of which is a bottle I’m shown with the infusion.
I’m feeling a bit under the weather, but I don’t want to waste our last evening in Marrakech, curled up in our riad, so I drag my wife out for a quick one at Morocco’s historic La Mamounia Hotel. Churchill had spent a night there (or maybe more) in the 1920s, and there’s not just a suite named after him, but also a beautiful jewel box of a bar called, naturally, Le Churchill. Le Majorelle, another bar located on the ground level, is a large sprawling space, with also a beautiful bar that is unfortunately distanced from the guests. No such fear at Le Churchill though, a U-shaped bar with 10 stools around it, and a two-seater for at least a semblance of privacy. It’s a bar that, due to its design, provokes conversation between guests, and we get chatting to the one next to us, who is originally from SF, but now settled in Mexico. The lady has travelled extensively to India on work and amassed a collection of fine Indian textiles, that she plans to donate to a museum in her will. It strikes me that it’s a beautiful template for a hotel bar to follow, and something that bars in India might be well advised to emulate.
In tribute to Sir Winston, I order a cocktail called Where there’s a will there’s a way, with Calvados at its heart. My wife orders a Dragons Den, with Vodka, seaweed cordial, ginger and Yuzu. The cocktails are excellent, with the Calvados providing a nice bite to my drink. They’re priced at Moroccan Dirham 250 and 210, respectively.
Vikram Achanta is founder and CEO of Tulleeho, a drinks training and consulting firm, and a co-founder of www.tulleeho.com, a drinks website. He is also co-founder of 30 Best Bars India, India’s first bar awards and ranking platform. His Instagram handle is @rumdoodle69.
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