2024-03-13 23:30:00
In Montreal, journalist Louis-Philippe Messier travels mostly on the run, his desk in his backpack, on the lookout for fascinating subjects and people. He speaks to everyone and is interested in all walks of life in this urban chronicle.
This week began the fast of Ramadan and someone suggested that I go to dinner at one of the many buffets in Montreal offering special menus, which start exactly at sunset.
“You should try a Ramadan buffet even if you don’t!” my barber told me.
He showed me a Montreal tiktoker who devotes videos to these buffets.
A few hours later, I arrive at Malak (“angel” in Arabic), a Moroccan restaurant in the Saint-Michel district on Boulevard Pie-IX.
Clientele 99% North African, according to the owner. All-you-can-eat buffet for $24.
A censer near the entrance spreads its smoke that I normally associate with the organ and Gregorian chants.
This perfume will not accompany a mass this evening, but a tempting and colorful feast of ftourthe Moroccan name given to breaking the fast each evening of Ramadan.
Appetizing aromas emanate from the kitchen. The light is bright, and the music festive; high volume.
“People arrive at the last minute!” exclaims Mouhcine El Meliani, the owner.
If his face seems familiar to you, it’s because he was the main media “anger” for Montreal taxi drivers once morest Uber, seven or eight years ago. Here he is, a restaurateur.
The waitress, Faïza, and the boss, Mouhcine El Meliani, behind the take-out counter. Louis-Philippe Messier
Last minute
Ten minutes before the start, Mr. El Meliani and an employee hurry to place everything on the service counter: breads, pancakes, soup, fish puffs, hard-boiled eggs, etc.; and I am still the only one there with my 7 year old son.
At 6:55 p.m., the first customers arrive, greet the owner warmly, help themselves and eat from 6:56 p.m. (precise time of ftour Tuesday evening).
Another arrives three minutes later: he started by smoking a cigarette outside before entering (since the deprivation of tobacco before the ftour is more painful than abstinence from food for some).
The majority of Ramadaners eat with family or friends.
“People invite each other, but soon they get tired of cooking, and then, my tables are reserved days in advance,” rejoices Mr. El Meliani.
During my visit Tuesday evening, the customers of Malak are Ramadan orphans.
“My wife is visiting her family in Tunisia and, instead of staying alone at home, I am here,” says Driss, a customer.
“I’m not very religious, I drink alcohol, but I really do the Ramadan fast,” another solitary eater told me.
A young couple arrives.
“In Morocco, we don’t go to restaurants because everyone invites themselves to eat during the thirty days… but here, there aren’t enough Moroccans for that… or it’s us who We don’t know enough!” Akram and Ikram Somatri tell me laughing.
Akram and Ikram Somatri toasting mint tea. Louis-Philippe Messier
Everyone is cordial with my son who finds a way to stuff himself with only dates, honey, cream cheese, bread and sweet fermented milk raib with strawberry coulis.
I treat myself to a fish puff pastry, then four mini-sandwiches batbout topped with liver, chicken, shrimp and corn, while emptying a bowl of soup to the and several glasses of mint tea.
These “batbout” sandwiches are small, but if you eat four of them, it fills a corner. Louis-Philippe Messier
Most customers stay and later order tagines (in addition to the buffet).
If my report had taken place in an Afghan or Pakistani restaurant, the menu would have been completely different… but the meal would have started at the same second.
1710386539
#Moroccanstyle #Ramadan #buffet #tasty
