Moroccan Imperial Dinner Etiquette

A Moorish dinner excels the tea. If you can imagine all the cosmetics, pomades, jujube pastes, hair oil, tamar indien and cocoanut fiber patties being rolled into one, you can fancy the first dinner dish of a Moorish Prince. I am grateful that I survive to record this feature of an Imperial Morocco menu. May I never live to witness or taste another. What followed the first dish my mind wavers to remember. An easy chair in the open air is the last I recollect.

A Meal in Morocco

Table Etiquette at an Imperial Dinner Party

Witchcraft prevails in Morocco, and a sewing machine man dare not appear in the empire, writes a correspondent of the Baltimore Sun. As a horseshoe is an agent of good omen in England, so a wooden or painted hand is put over every door in Morocco to keep away evil. You will see a Moor of aristocratic mien sedately and stately arise from cross-legged pose, look up at this hand, and then return to his tea and toast. 

This tea and toast, or Moorish "kettledrum," is interesting. The four o'clock salon is carpeted richly. The doors are done in arabesque designs. The tray is of polished and inlaid metal. The teapot is of superb proportions and capacity. The tea is of that bright green color, and full flavor before being boiled. It is flavored with a compound like molasses, and is served up like a decoction of honey flavored with tea. This is a pioneer cup. A second cup (and, by the way, the china cups are all glass saucers, to speak Hibernianly) is made of tea and a peculiar herb which gives the taste of a boiled mint julep.  Then you smoke a tiny cigar made of a tobacco that resembles the perique of Louisiana, only not so pure. Then comes another cup of tea and composed this time of the green, pure herb itself with a mixture of Tonquin beans and lemon verbena, or a little prepared snuff. More smoke follows, then another cup of tea; and this time you have nux vomica, ambergris and wormwood mixed in the cup that cheers not but is likely to inebriate. 

In deference to our princely hosts, we had to do all these teasing things. I never before so well realized Mr. Samuel Weller senior's description of the old lady of the Brick-Lane-Grand-Junction-Ebenezer Teetotal association of Brick Lane, who was a wissibly a ‘swellin’ of tea. More smoke. Yet it is mere puffs, as the Moor is not given strongly to the solace of man. A Moorish dinner excels the tea. If you can imagine all the cosmetics, pomades, jujube pastes, hair oil, tamar indien and cocoanut fiber patties being rolled into one, you can fancy the first dinner dish of a Moorish Prince. I am grateful that I survive to record this feature of an Imperial Morocco menu. May I never live to witness or taste another. What followed the first dish my mind wavers to remember. An easy chair in the open air is the last I recollect. 

I recall the opening scene as the tall Prince lifted his hands heavenward, and turned his large, black eyes and said: “In the name of God and his prophet,” that being the entire grace. He dares not add, “make us grateful, etc.,” after the repast, for that would be sheer satire, at least from my point of view and feeling. A six-foot high stranger sitting cross-legged on a bilious-colored carpet at such a dinner is a terrible sight, and beggars description. Then behold him trying to feed himself, a la mode, by grabbing the aforesaid pomatum out of the big dish in the center of the carpet, and making force balls of the Imperial hash, and then deftly pitching them down his throat as invalid experts swallow pills without water. I admired the dexterity of the Princes, but spoiled my $15 vest. 

I hailed the relays of napkins and wash-bowls. I washed my face and hands seven times during dinner, and, though the room was reeking with the odors of incense, to this day I carry the fumes of that repast with my best clothes. The pale green and blue complextion I presented before half the banquet was over would have delighted James Whistler for a sweet little study of nocturne or symphony done in oleomargarine. And all this time the ladies of the Prince’s harem were invisibly looking on at my spasms. – San Jose Herald, November, 1884

🍽️Etiquette Enthusiast, Maura J. Graber, is the Site Editor for the Etiquipedia© Etiquette Encyclopedia

Etiquette for Moroccan Tea

Tea as Served by the Moors

“In Morocco, drinking tea together is an invitation to witness and participate in an important part of the culture.”
From www.partaste.com/

Tea a la Morocco is made by putting the requisite amount of leaves in the teapot, and pouring a small amount of hot water over them and immediately pouring it off again. This frees the tea from dust or any foreign matter, which by accident or design may have been mixed with it. After the first water has been turned off sugar is put in the teapot, one lump for each cup; the pot is then filled with boiling water and allowed to stand for a few minutes. Neither milk nor cream is ever used. Freshly gathered leaves of wild thyme, or verbena, are often added to give flavor to the beverage.

                                                   

Old Moroccan Tea Service

Etiquette governing tea-drinking among the Moors is curious. The host invariably takes a little from the cup before offering it to his guests. The Grand Vizier Sid Musa went further than this; he not only took a sip before offering the cup. but he invariably took it again when half had been drunk and finished the remainder himself. This ceremony arises from the fact that killing by poisoned tea is as common a mode of getting rid of a rival in Morocco as disposing of one's enemies by the deadly cup of coffee is in Turkey or Egypt. As in feudal Japan, a Samurai had always to leave his sword in charge of the servant at the outer gate, to prove that his visit was one of peace, so the Moorish host takes half of each cup of tea offered to his guests to show them that their lives are not in danger. —Los Angeles Herald, 1899

Etiquette Enthusiast, Maura J. Graber, is the Site Editor for Etiquipedia© Etiquette Encyclopedia