How sharing cakes—and kitchens—helped me feel right at home
You never know how—or when—you’ll feel like you truly belong somewhere. For me, it happened slowly. Through small smiles, unexpected invitations, and the universal language of food.
When I first moved into my neighborhood in Tangier, I didn’t know what to expect. I was the foreigner with the strange accent and a slightly different rhythm to life. But the moment I started baking, everything changed.
A Slice of Denmark in Morocco
In Denmark, we always bring cakes to mark a moment—birthdays, holidays, coffee dates, or just because it’s a Tuesday. So naturally, when I visited my Moroccan neighbors for the first time, I brought my homemade Danish cakes. My signature treat? Our beloved national dessert, the kind that tastes like comfort and family.
I expected polite thank-yous. What I got instead was open arms, excited smiles, and empty plates.
Suddenly, I was “the one with the cake.” And every visit afterward included not just tea, but tagine, harira, msemen, chebakia… and of course, requests for more cake, please!
Kitchens Without Borders
Over time, our visits turned into kitchen sessions. I would spend hours side-by-side with mothers, grandmothers, and daughters—learning how to roll couscous, fold briouats, or perfect the balance of spices in a tagine.
In exchange, I taught them how to make cinnamon rolls, birthday cakes, and other sweet slices of Danish tradition. No fancy recipes—just flour, sugar, stories, and laughter.
And in those kitchens, something beautiful happened. The divide between “me” and “them” disappeared. We were just women, cooking together, laughing at each other’s accents, and tasting our way through each other’s worlds.
More Than Food—A Feeling
Morocco is known for its hospitality, but nothing prepared me for the genuine warmth of local neighborhoods. Here, doors stay open. Coffee is always on. Kids run in and out like they own the block. And when you show up with kindness (and something sweet), you’re welcomed not as a guest—but as part of the rhythm of daily life.
Integration, I’ve learned, doesn’t happen all at once. It comes in small, shared moments:
- Sitting on a floor cushion with mint tea
- Helping shape cookies for Eid
- Being offered leftovers wrapped in love
- Swapping recipes, life lessons, and second helpings
If You’re New Here…
My advice? Bring something from home to share. Ask to learn. Say yes when invited—even if you’re nervous. You don’t need perfect French or Arabic to be welcomed into a kitchen or a heart. Food breaks the ice—and often builds lasting bridges.
And if you’re ever unsure about how to meet people, get involved, or settle in, we’re here to help you make those connections that matter.
Want to learn how to cook Moroccan food—or share your own recipes? Looking for a welcoming neighborhood or someone to show you around the medina?
Reach out to us here and let’s make you feel at home—one plate at a time.
