Brochettes de Kefta

Kefta lives in the hands before it ever sees the fire. You don't just stir the meat with the spices, you knead it until it turns tacky and holds together, because that is what keeps the brochettes from crumbling on the skewer and drying on the coals.

The fire must be hot and ready. These are not brochettes for a slow, sleepy grill. Shape the meat long and slim around flat skewers, let the outside brown quickly, and turn them before the fat runs away from you. The cumin, paprika, parsley, coriander, and onion are there to perfume the meat, not bury it. Good meat first, honest spices after. La balance est dans les yeux, the scale is in the eyes.

Serve them the way they belong: with round khobz, chopped tomato and onion salad, olives, and mint tea or a cold glass at the side. At a Moroccan table, especially outdoors, kefta is la cuisine du lien (the cooking of connection), everyone reaching, tearing bread, making room. A table is a door you leave open.