Assimilated Routines - The Family Platter

Dig in! Wait, did you wash your hands?

When I talk about the family platter, I'm not referring to the generous value size portions you can get at various American restaurants.  I'm talking about the tradition in which an entire Moroccan family typically eats from one giant dish.  At first, I found this practice a bit strange and unhygienic, but with time I have begun to see the logic in the custom and if proper protocol is followed as many Moroccans often do, you can easily make this routine as hygienic as eating from your individual plates and stainless steal silverware. 

In the U.S. every Thanksgiving many of us gather around a grand table and "ooh and aahh" as the house chefs bring out a series of platters of all sorts of steamed veggies, both sweet and tangy sauces, and creamy gravies all placed in what often looks like an ceremonial altar awaiting the arrival of the dish of all dishes, the properly dressed and painstakingly marinated baked turkey (makes me hungry just writing about it).  So large is the feast at times that it requires a collaborative effort to pass down or to serve everyone a portion of each dish.  Everyone has their own plate, silverware, glass, and napkin.  Drinks are served.  Then, the chowing begins.

Leid Kbir, bismillah and slice

In Morocco, I have had both humble and extravagant meals.  For the most part however, the tradition of the giant family platter is applied to both settings.  The equivalent of Thanksgiving in Morocco is Leid Kbir, a holiday in the Muslim calendar that commemorates the test of faith Abraham underwent when God asked him to sacrifice his first-born son.  The offering of an unblemished lamb was offered in its place.  Every Muslim family must in a sense do the same.  Many families slaughter a sheep and then go about dressing the entire animal.  This ritual produces a tremendous amount of meat that is then eaten over the course of three to four days.  In addition to the meat, families prepare salads and other vegetables as well.  Every meal that I have eaten during this time is grand even for those of meager resources.

Leid Kbir Morocco indoor grilling tradition

We all huddle around a small table no more than a square meter wide, which means that in some cases you are shoulder to shoulder with your host family, and then wait in anticipation as the different platters are retrieved from the smoked-out kitchens.  Smoked-out because most people engage in the still-odd-to-me custom of indoor grilling.  Some places are well ventilated, but others simply let the smoke permeate the entire house.  There's often a haze in the house, but kids go about playing their games and adults watching their television shows despite the tears swelling in their eyes.  Safe to say that everyone smells like barbecue for three to four days straight.

Let bread be thy fork...

Every platter is like your typical serving dish, but there are no individual plates.  A vegetable tray is often served first, which can include lettuce, radishes, carrots, tomatoes, and other seasonal fare.  Everyone is given a fork or spoon and then everyone begins the assault.  Sometimes small dishes of olives or sauces circle the main dish.  After the salad comes the meat, a giant serving of slow-cooked tender chunks of sheep meat resting on a pool of oil and spices served on another large serving dish.  With the arrival of the meat comes the breaking of the bread--a moment that always makes me think about the Last Supper and perhaps this is why I devote so much time to savoring every meal.  Most of the time people begin by dipping and dabbing the bread in the oils and spices and then once the moat surrounding the meat has reached a certain level, folks move on to the meat.  Your bits of bread serve as your edible glove that has permission to dig into and rip apart meat from bone.  No forks, spoons, and no individual plates are necessary.  You rip and dip and stuff your face.

For most of the holiday meals prior to any dipping and dabbing, someone is responsible for ensuring everyone has clean hands.  A basin is passed from one person to the other and the person in charge pours warm water over your hands.  For other meals, you hope and pray everyone took the time to wash.

The meals are then capped with a tray of fruit from which everyone grabs a bit of each type of fruit.  All peels and seeds are put on the table along with some of the meat bones.  Someone then brings out a dust pan (not the same one used with the sweeper) and rounds up all the scraps.  A soapy sponge then cleans the plastic table mat signaling the end to the feast.

For napkins, a medium-size towel is passed around and for drinks sometimes individual glasses are available when one is treated to a soda or juice.  When not, there's the ubiquitous community cup with a liter of the city's punch available for the thirsty.

Who needs plates and for that matter forks?

At first, I found the practice a little odd, but slowly I began to see its practicality although I doubt that's the sole purpose for its existence.  As a kid, I hated washing dishes.  It has got to be one of the most boring activities out there.  I was overjoyed when my parents would decide from time to time to use paper plates.  It made whatever meal I ate on those plates even that more delicious.

Dinner with host family

Eating from serving dishes has a lot of benefits.  Ecologically, without the dish washing, you're conserving energy from not using hot water, using less water in general, and using less soap.  Financially, you save on the use of water and electricity.  Without such a vast amount of plates to clean, you probably do not need a dishwasher or the vast amount of plates.

If you hate washing all together, replace the fork with the bread.  In Morocco, bread is the equivalent of the fork.  I remember one time during my home-stay my host father felt bad that the family had to leave for the weekend leaving me in their home all alone.  I told him not to worry and that I could cook for myself, which prompted him to ask, "Well, can I get you some bread?".  To which I responded, "No thanks, I don't need any bread right now."  He then gave me a bewildered look and asked me, "But how will you eat?" gesturing the motion of using bread to grab your food.  I smiled and said that I would use a fork.  He said, "Ah, waxa (Oh, okay)."  They only had a couple of forks and during my time there I never ate with one so it was natural to be perplexed by these bread-free meals.

I'm still leery of the community cup so I think in that regard I will continue to add individual glasses to my table for water and soda.

I gotta say though that I kind of like the towel idea as opposed to paper napkins or even individual cloth napkins as long as people don't abuse it.  There have been flagrant abusers who use the entire towel to wipe their face and hands leaving no part of it unsoiled.  I think rules can be spelled out prior to its use.

All in all this new adaptation of the family platter and family dining is a win-win for me and the environment.  I'll gain more free-time, use less energy and resources, and end up happier with less dishes to wash.  Don't worry, when you come to eat, I'll make sure everyone washes their hands before we dig in.