Faïçal Zahraoui

Voices of Morocco is a storytelling series that highlights the creatives shaping Morocco today. From designers and curators to artists and makers, each feature offers a personal lens into life, place, and process. Through their words, we explore what inspires their work, how they navigate Morocco, and the spaces, rituals, and ideas that continue to influence their craft, both within and beyond their daily practice.

Faïçal Zahraoui, known as FZ, is a Moroccan chef based in Marrakech and the co-founder of Azalai Urban Souk, a boutique restaurant in Gueliz where he redefines Moroccan cuisine through a contemporary lens. His cooking is rooted in forgotten local ingredients, ancient techniques like fermentation, dehydration, and smoking, and the creative energy of Morocco’s street art and design scenes.


Before opening Azalai, Zahraoui trained in France at the Michelin-starred Le Saint-James and represented Team Morocco at the Bocuse d’Or Africa, where he won the silver medal and qualified for the world final in Lyon. In 2023, he was named a finalist at the Bocuse d’Or World among the 24 best chefs in the world. Azalai has since been recognized by Condé Nast Traveler as the first modern Moroccan bistrot and, in 2025, was nominated by La Liste 1000 as a Discovery Gem.

We asked him to reflect on Morocco, the rituals that shaped him, and how Azalai has become a space for storytelling, gathering, and contemporary Moroccan expression.

How has Morocco shaped the way you see the world or yourself?

Morocco shaped everything: the way I cook, the way I think, the way I see ingredients.

I grew up following my mother through the farmers’ market in Rabat. She would touch every tomato, smell every bunch of mint, negotiate with the sardine vendor like it was the most important thing in the world. That ritual is still with me. It gave me a profound respect for produce, for the people who grow it, and for the stories food carries.

Morocco also taught me to be proud of where I come from. For a long time, Moroccan cuisine was underestimated on the international stage. I wanted to change that, not by abandoning our roots, but by going deeper into them.


What does “home” mean to you in Morocco?

Home is the kitchen. Always.

My mother’s kitchen in Rabat is where everything started for me: the smells, the sounds, the rhythm of cooking together. Marrakech became home later. There is something about this city that constantly feeds you creatively. The medina, the colors, the energy. I find it impossible to be uninspired here.

Home now is also the restaurant itself. When the kitchen is alive, when guests are gathered around the table, that is where I feel most at home.

Is there a specific place in Morocco that feels especially grounding or significant to you?

Rabat’s old market.

I go back to that image constantly: my mother moving through the stalls, completely in her element. That place, and that ritual, are the source of my entire culinary philosophy.

In Marrakech, the Mellah and the souks of the medina have that same effect on me. Walking through them, seeing the spices, the dried fruits, the artisans at work, it grounds me. It reminds me that what I do at Azalai is connected to something much older and much bigger than any one restaurant.



What originally drew you to creating Azalai Urban Souk?

I came back from France with years of training in Michelin-starred restaurants, competitions across four continents, and one question I could not stop asking: why wasn’t Moroccan cuisine taken as seriously as French or Japanese cuisine on the world stage?

I knew the answer was not that the food was inferior. It was that no one had pushed it far enough yet.

Azalai, which means “salt caravan,” was born in 2020 as a boutique restaurant in Gueliz, Marrakech. The concept is simple but demanding: take the soul of Moroccan cuisine, its spices, its techniques, its forgotten ingredients, and elevate it without losing its identity.

Every dish has to tell a story. That was the guiding principle from day one.

How do you approach the menu and overall experience at Azalai?

Every dish on the menu starts with an ingredient that excites me, often something local and overlooked. I use techniques like fermentation, dehydration, and slow smoking to transform it into something unexpected.

The smoked eggplant with crispy chickpeas and fresh goat cheese, the beef pithiviers with dried fruit tajine jus, the gyoza with chicken and foie gras in a smoked broth. These are dishes that are deeply Moroccan in flavor but disruptive in form. I want the first bite to surprise, and the last bite to feel like a memory.

For the space itself, I think of Azalai as a sensory extension of the menu: warm, intimate, layered. The open kitchen is essential. I want guests to feel the energy of what is being created, not just receive a plate.


Are there rituals in Morocco that feel essential to understanding the culture you represent?

The weekly souk visit is sacred.

I still do it because it keeps me connected to the source: the farmers, the seasons, the freshness of what is actually available. That is where real cooking starts, not in the kitchen.

There is also the ritual of Moroccan tea: the pouring, the waiting, the sharing. It is a gesture of hospitality that says, I have time for you. I think about that every time a guest sits down at Azalai. We want them to feel that same unhurried generosity.

What have you learned from working with Moroccan artisans, designers, or makers?

That mastery is quiet.

Moroccan artisans do not always talk about what they know. They show it. A potter who has been working clay for thirty years does not need to explain the process. They just do it, and the result is extraordinary.

That has influenced how I cook. I try to let the dish speak rather than over-explain it. I have also learned that handmade things carry energy. When I use a piece made by an artisan from Marrakech, it adds something to the table that a factory-made plate never could.

How do you think about Azalai as a gathering place, beyond the food?

Azalai is a place where people slow down.

In a city like Marrakech, which moves fast and loud, having a space that invites you to sit, breathe, and be present is already meaningful. I think of it as a kind of urban oasis: intimate, tucked away, easy to miss if you do not know where to look.

Beyond the food, it is a place where ideas circulate. Artists, travelers, local creatives. They all pass through, and something interesting usually comes from that collision.


When someone walks into Azalai for the first time, how do you hope they feel

Surprised, then immediately at ease.

The entrance is discreet: an old wooden door, a narrow passage. Then the space opens up and there is warmth everywhere. I want that first moment to feel like a discovery, like they found something real.

Then I want the food to confirm that feeling with every course. Each plate should feel a little unexpected, a little generous, and unmistakably Moroccan.

Can you share a challenge or learning moment from creating Azalai?

The hardest moment was the beginning.

We opened Azalai as the world was coming out of the pandemic. At first, we could only open from noon to 4 p.m. It was incredibly tough, but what still amazes me is the support we received. People were genuinely moved that a small restaurant had the audacity to open at a moment when the whole world was still uncertain.

That trust from the very beginning carried us through. It also forced us to be very precise about what we wanted Azalai to be, not because we had options, but because we had nothing to lose by being exactly ourselves. That clarity saved us.

Right now, the work in progress is growing the Azalai ecosystem, from catering to chef’s table experiences, including the upcoming MISRÂJ Immersive Dining Experience in collaboration with Medina Mirage, as well as Azalai Urban Souk Medina. Each one is a new chapter, but they all come from the same place: the belief that Moroccan cuisine deserves to be told fully, without compromise.

Thank you, Faïçal, for sharing such a generous reflection on food, memory, and contemporary Moroccan creation. Through your perspective, Morocco emerges as a place of deep flavor, quiet mastery, and constant reinvention, where the souk, the kitchen, and the table become spaces for storytelling, preservation, and possibility.

Continue to follow his work here, and be sure to visit Azalai Urban Souk on your next trip to Marrakech.