One of my strongest childhood memories is waking up on Shabbat morning to the smell of my father’s cooking. My dad, Moshe Tourgeman (or Mosh, as most call him), shows his love through food. Cooking the most delicious Morrocan dishes, many of our moments center around the meals. This is also a cultural way of life, as his dad was born in a small Jewish village up in the Sahara mountains, and his mom in Algeria (very close to the Moroccan border), where family, meals, and the sense of tribe and togetherness was very dominant.
I asked him a few questions about the role of food in his life and about three traditional dishes and their origins.
When did you start cooking?
“I used to see my mother and aunt arguing over the cooking pots and how much they loved and cared for us – they cared if we liked the food and ensured everyone had enough. I started to inquire more about how things are made around age ten. I asked my mother ‘so how much salt should I put?” and she always just said, “Like this!” And gestured with her hand. There are no exact quantities in traditional Moroccan cooking; it’s all about the feeling of things and the emotion you put in. My dishes got many compliments, sometimes my sisters said it’s even better than mom’s! And it went on from there. I am curious by nature.”
What is cooking for you?
“Cooking is love, plain and simple. When you cook for someone, you show them you care, that you’re willing to invest time and attention in them. It’s about nourishing not just their body but also their soul. For me, it’s one of the most meaningful ways to express care.”
And how do you feel this is represented in the Moroccan culture?
“In Jewish Moroccan culture, family is at the heart of everything. Cooking is always generous, meant to feed not just immediate family but also children, grandchildren, and their spouses. You never cook just for yourself. Families are typically large, and children often remain close to their mothers well into adulthood. Cooking is more than preparing food; it communicates, brings people together, and gives unconditionally.”
Here are three traditional recipes my dad treasures:
Hamin | חָמִין (Skinha in Morrocan)
This hearty dish is packed with potatoes, beans, garlic, wheat, eggs, chickpeas, meat, and a ton of turmeric. It’s cooked low and slow overnight, turning into a rich, aromatic stew. The name “Skinha” means brown in Moroccan, referencing the beautiful color it takes on after hours of cooking. Back in the day, to avoid cooking on Shabbat, kids would carry the pot to a communal stove called a “Frana,” which could hold up to thirty pots heated by giant stones. It was a true communal tradition. “My mother used to cover the pot with three wool blankets to keep it warm. When we opened it, the smell was amazing,” my dad recalls.
Tanzia Rice | אורז טָנזִיָה (also called ‘Festive Rice’)
This sweet, celebratory dish takes its name from Tangier, a northern Moroccan port city near the Strait of Gibraltar. It’s a bit of a fusion, blending Moroccan and Spanish-European influences. “It’s the perfect mix,” my dad says, combining dried fruits like plums, apricots, raisins, and cranberries, lightly fried with wine and (of course) turmeric. This mixture turns into a jam, which cools down before being added to rice with olive oil. My dad explains, “Its sweetness symbolizes optimism and celebration, making it perfect for holidays and special occasions. It’s about joy and family time.” Bonus tip: you can make the fruit jam ahead of time and store it in the fridge to quickly transform any rice into something special. “I always have a jar of Tanzia in the fridge for Friday night dinners,” he adds.
Matbucha | מָטבּוּחָה
This slow-cooked dish truly tests your patience, but it’s worth it. Matbucha, known as the queen of cooked salads, is made from a simple mix of tomatoes, red peppers, garlic, paprika, and a touch of heat, all simmered for three hours on low heat. Once cooled, it’s served alongside other salads or paired with challah for dipping. “Salads are a big deal in Moroccan cooking,” my dad says. “They balance out the meal and show abundance and generosity.” He jokes, “It takes three days to make a meal, and we eat it in five minutes.” For him, cooking these dishes—especially for Shabbat and holidays—is about pouring love into every step. “I don’t like being called a ‘cook’; I just love cooking for the people I care about.”
These are just a few of the amazing dishes my dad Mosh makes regularly, and I’m so lucky to have his love and be part of this heritage. Today, when I call him to ask for a recipe, I ask again and again, “But how much (of this and that) exactly should I put?” and his answer, you guessed it right, is always “lIke this! כָּכָה” meaning, I should feel it, and not measure it.
Fun fact!
Did you know? Turmeric is the most essential spice used in Morrocan cuisine for its health advantages and vibrant yellow color. If you walk in the cities of Morroco, Yellow is everywhere: in the architecture, natural desert, clothes, ornaments, and, of course, food.