The Sahara, Johnny Cash, and Mint Tea Are a Surprisingly Good Combination
The Sahara, Johnny Cash, and Mint Tea Are a Surprisingly Good Combination
Mint tea in the Sahara
We had been driving off-road through the Sahara near the Moroccan-Algerian border for what seemed like a day, but was probably closer to two hours.
Every bump along the landscape became more pronounced. The rattling of the truck grew louder, drowning out the odd yet satisfying mix of music—Johnny Cash, Enrique Iglesias and Sting—favored by our driver. The air in the truck was stagnant and humid—opening the windows was not an option unless you wanted a sand shower.
As bleak as it was inside the truck, outside did not appear much better. Whirling winds made seeing anything through the flying sand difficult. The only signs of life were a few roaming camels.
So you could imagine our joy when our driver told us there was an oasis up ahead—which turned out to be a small, mud-brick guesthouse.
We were greeted by three men in djellabas who sought shade on wobbly plastic chairs under a tree. On a table in the middle of them rested a familiar sight: a traditional Moroccan teapot. After exchanging salams, one of the men raised his glass to us and said, “tea?” In Morocco, greetings are synonymous with mint tea.
Mint tea—or “Moroccan whiskey”—is the official drink of Morocco. But it’s a bit of a misnomer—it’s actually green tea imported from China. The name comes from the bushel of fresh mint added to the teapot during the brewing process—along with an obscene amount of sugar. It’s alcohol-free, but it’s a sugar-spiked glass of deliciousness.
One of the men got up and hurried to find chairs for us. Another went into the guesthouse to retrieve two additional glasses. The last of the men went about making more tea.
When the tea finished brewing (and not a second earlier), we were each served a glass—poured high in the customary way of aerating the tea and creating foam at the top. The first sip revealed something different, though— the tea tasted stronger, less sugary than the tea we had drank in Marrakech.
“Not as much sugar?” I said while holding up my glass. The men laughed and one of them responded, “Berber whiskey!” The men told us proudly how the Berbers native to this area prefer their tea stronger, unlike the sugar-infused tea of the cities. We also learned they drink tea throughout the day as a way to quench their thirst in the desert heat.
We needed to get going before dark, so we finished our tea, said our goodbyes and continued our journey. Our bellies burned with Berber whiskey while Johnny Cash took us deeper into the desert.