Several years ago, while living and working in Germany, friends invited me to visit Paris with them over a weekend. They had been; I had not. On the drive over from Wiesbaden we talked about many things. Somehow the best pecan pie came up in conversation. For me it was on a Delta airlines flight out of Atlanta. The secret was bourbon. Anyway, Gwen suggested I needed a new challenge. Bill, who was driving at the time, agreed, probably expecting this would elicit some extended discussion. For some inexplicable reason citron tartes came up in the conversation. Gwen ended it; saying that must be my new challenge. Finding the perfect citron tarte in Paris. Now that would be a challenge.
As it turned out, after sampling something like twenty that weekend, the penultimate citron tarte had not been identified. On the way back to Wiesbaden, we stopped in Reims. It had the cathedral where Joan of Arc was present for the coronation of the first King of France. A worthy stop. Just up the street from the cathedral was a patisserie. There I found it. The citron tarte of my dreams. It seems it had a hardened meringue crust and a lemon filling that just leapt out of the shell and made me smile all the way back to my Wiesbaden apartment. Bill agreed with my finding. Gwen did not.
The reason I bring this up, is after several years of a settled question in my mind, there is a new number one in the world. We found it, not in Paris, or Reims, France, but at a Châteaux near Meknes, Morocco. Châteaux Roslane is a hotel of only a few rooms, attached to a winery by the same name. Meknes is the primary grape growing region in this Muslim country. I mention this only because Muslims are not permitted to consume alcohol. And yet they produce wine in nearly every Muslim country. As we also found in Turkey, the wines tend to be very drinkable and improving. I have found that even in the most restrictive Muslim nations, like the United Arab Emirates, western hotels serve wine to visitors.
We arrived at the Chateaux early afternoon and decided to have lunch.
We had scheduled a wine tasting of Chateaux Roslane wines. We needed to ask for it to be served with the lunch as a special accommodation. The tasting started with La Perle du Sud Blanc de Blanc bubby. It reminded of a French Crémant more than a Champaign or Prosecco. Dry and refreshing.
What we were not expecting was a meal that was on par with several Michelin starred experiences we have had. At least for lunch. The three courses included a salad whose presentation was artistic. Rolled up thin strips of cucumber, spirals of carrots and peppers, embedded into a beet puree, all surrounded by a pesto oil and dollop of tuna salad.
With the salad our sommelier served a Les Coteaux de l’ Atlas Blanc, 2023. It is a Chardonnay, although unoaked and very pleasant. We tend not to like the very buttery heavily oaked Chardonnays, but this was more in the Sauvignon Gris flavor profile.
The main course was split with Karen enjoying a well-presented Chilean Sea Bass, with red and yellow peppers in basil infused olive oil. I went for an incredibly crispy orange duck that was cooked to perfection. The best duck I have had.
With this course the sommelier served a Les Coteaux de l’ Atlas Rouge, 2023. It is a blend of Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot and Syrah. Karen tends not to like the aftertaste of most Cab Sauvignons, but found this blend tended to provide a more pleasing finish.
Before we talk about the final dish, let me say that we were served an M-17 Muscat to accompany it. Neither Karen nor I tend to like sweet wines, but it was not too sweet and more than worthy of serving with the dessert this evening.
Finally the piece d’ resistance. The citron tarte that reawakened a memory of lost innocence. I was no longer a citron tarte virgin after that trip to Paris. The tarte that changed what I thought I knew of the world of patisserie excellence and world gastronomic domination. A Moroccan chef, by the name of Houcine Belaabas. Remember that name. I expect he will earn that Michelin star some day. He is the chef who asserted a new standard upon my palate for both presentation and taste, by the happenstance of a booked trip to an unexplored world, at least for Karen and myself.
