There was a boulevard in Marrakech named after his grandfather -- a man who had put his life on the line for a noble cause, fought off marauders of a terrible kind, and protected those who needed it most. You know the sort: a risk-taker, a gambler, a hero.
The grandson was a lawyer, by profession. The type who used to fly first class from country to country, meeting clients, brokering deals, and doing the complicated things that lawyers do. But he was more than that, much more. Perhaps that's why he had given up lawyering to become what he wanted most-- a chef. Not just any chef, mind you but a Harley Davidson riding barbecue chef. After all, he was a man who was crazy about speed and crazy about barbecue. But most of all, he was crazy enough to know that a life not worth risking for is not much of a life at all.
He was his grandfather's grandson, after all.
A cook of the most intuitive kind, his love for the ingredients was felt, was tasted, in the food itself. A man who milked his own cow, grew his own vegetables, and made his own butter. Only the most delectable sauces, only the most tender meat, only the most delicious sides. So you stood up from the table not only feeling full, but also deeply content. Then you scratched your head and wondered when you had last eaten a meal so good.
Andrea's Grill. Open June 15, 2010 in the Marrakech country side .....
Relaxed lunch only. Casual dress.
Bring your children, but leave the marauders behind.........
Route de Ouarzazate
Come hungry. Leave happy.