The old mellah, its crumbled walls, its silent alleyways… The visit had barely ended when we set off down a small path through the valley. Our guide Fouad led the way, following irrigation canals, winding between almond trees in bloom. The air was scented with fresh almonds and damp earth. The calm, almost sacred, deepened the sense of mystery.
Around a bend, an old man appears with his donkey. On its back, an improbable jumble that jingles softly with every step: chairs, utensils, a table. A strange, touching procession. We keep walking, intrigued, curious. Then, at the heart of the valley, the surprise: a table set beneath the trees, white tablecloth, glasses glinting in the sun. This is Dar Ahlam, the house of dreams, where nothing is announced, everything is revealed.
I still remember that green bean salad, sharpened with an almond-based sauce. A simple but striking taste. Like the light in the flowers. Healthy, inspired, local cooking.
A surprise, beautiful in its simplicity. Nothing was planned, yet everything was perfectly thought through.
