Morocco and Tea | A Love Story

A Story of Love and Travel

At the Origins: A Distant and Precious Encounter

Once upon a time, long before ships sailed the oceans and caravans left their mark on the desert sand, there stood a leaf rustling in the Yunnan mountain breeze. Modest, almost anonymous, it had no idea that one day it would become the beating heart of a centuries-old tradition.

In the 9th century, carried by the Silk Roads and the breath of exchange between civilizations, this precious leaf made its debut in Morocco. Initially rare, it was poured into subtle infusions, reserved for the refined palaces of sultans and scholars in search of mysterious elixirs.

But tea is a traveler at heart. It spans the centuries, crosses the thresholds of homes, and invites itself into vibrant souks and modest homes. It is no longer just a luxury; it becomes a habit, a ritual. Soon, it is no longer enough to drink it: it must be celebrated, honored, and given a soul.

When European Navigators Discover Tea in Morocco

In the 15th century, as Morocco looked toward Andalusia and the East, a new wind blew from the Atlantic. The Portuguese landed in Tangier, Mazagan, and Mogador. There they found a people already in love with tea, whose aroma wafted from clay cups and perfumed the shaded patios.

Ironically, it was a Portuguese princess, Catherine of Braganza , who, upon marrying the King of England, introduced tea to the British court. Europe, fascinated, discovered this exquisite drink that Morocco has enjoyed for centuries.

Essaouira, the Free Romance of Tea and Wind

In the 18th century, Sultan Sidi Mohammed ben Abdallah dreamed of a port that would open his kingdom to the world. Essaouira, Mogador the beautiful , became this gateway where the voices of the world intersect. In this city where the wind sculpts the waves and the ramparts sing in the golden light of the sunset, tea finds a land of expression.

On its quays, crates of tea from China sit alongside golden spices, shimmering silks, and ivories from elsewhere. Here, we drink it slowly, facing the Atlantic, letting time stretch out like a dream by the water.

Essaouira Mint Tea is a poem in freedom, an infusion of salty air and sea breezes. It is drunk without haste, among artists and poets, in this city that belongs as much to travelers as to souls in love with infinity.

Salty, the Memory of an Inherited Tea

But if there is a place where tea takes root in hearts even before embalming glasses, it is Salé , a city of a thousand stories, where the sea meets the memory of ancestors. It is here, on this native land, that the tea ritual is a heritage, a gesture learned as a child from mothers and grandmothers, a whisper passed down to each generation.

In the alleys of the medina, under the shadows of the peaceful riads, Mouima , with her gestures full of gentleness and mastery, always prepared two teas: a sweet tea for the sweet palates that we were as children, and a tea without sugar for Abu Sidi , whose diabetes required this delicate attention. Two infusions, two balances, but the same love of sharing.

Today, Maison NANA1807 perpetuates this philosophy: if it never sweetens its teas, it is to give each person the freedom to find their own balance. A choice of purity, an invitation to savor tea in all its authenticity, with or without added sweetness, but always with the same respect for taste and tradition.

In Salé, tea is more than just a drink. It's the heart of reunions, the witness to important decisions, the echo of shared laughter and silence. It's the invisible link between generations, the sweetness that comforts and the warm breath that welcomes.

Figuig, the Oasis of Tea and Friendship

At the other end of Morocco, where the desert seems to touch the sky, Figuig watches over you like a forgotten jewel. An oasis of water and light, it is the refuge of date palms and poets, the last salvation before the infinity of the dunes.

In this city where time stretches out under the song of the wind, tea is a sacred offering. It refreshes souls weary from travel, and it accompanies evening gatherings where stories as old as the world are told.

Omar, a brother in heart and in horizon , serves tea with the generosity of those who know that sharing is offering a part of themselves. His glass steams under the starlight, and each sip is a tribute to friendship, to the earth that nourishes and to the silence that soothes.

Mint Tea: The Soul of Morocco

There isn't a home, a medina square, or a nomadic encampment where mint tea doesn't flow in streams of liquid gold. More than a beverage, it is a symbol: of welcome, friendship, and peace.

A lost traveler, he welcomes you under the Berber tent and refreshes your soul under the burning desert sun. A passing friend, he seals reunions and warms hearts. He is at once humble and noble, popular and sacred, everyday and eternal.

The ritual is passed down from father to son, from mother to daughter. The teapot gleams in the dim light, the water simmers gently, the mint rustles beneath the fingers. Then comes the ancestral gesture: pour from above, let the air infiltrate, and enhance the aromas.

It's poetry in motion, an alchemy where each element has its place. Time slows down, conversations soften, the world hangs around a steaming glass.

A Living Heritage

Even today, Morocco imports nearly 25% of the world's Chinese green tea production. But beyond the numbers, it's a living memory that lives on.

Tea continues to tell its story in the bustling streets of Salé, beneath the breezes of Essaouira, and in the shade of Figuig's palm trees. It travels, it evolves, it reinvents itself.

What if Tea could talk?

He would tell of the rides of caravans, the wakes of ships, the bursts of laughter of a grandmother in Salé, the sighs of the wind on the ramparts of Essaouira, the peaceful silence of a starry evening in Figuig.

And he would also whisper his new chapter, written with passion in the workshops of Maison NANA1807.

Because here, in the heart of Berry, on these generous and delicious lands, the heritage of Moroccan tea continues.