Msemen

If you think pancakes are a global thing, wait until you meet msemen. The name might sound like a mysterious ancient relic or a Marvel character no one’s heard of, but in truth, msemen is Morocco’s flat, flaky, golden gift to the breakfast table—or lunch, dinner, or anytime someone casually walks past with mint tea and a wink.

Msemen (sometimes spelled msemmen, msamman, or even rghaif just to keep you on your toes) is a type of square-shaped pancake, though that word barely does it justice. Layers upon layers of dough, carefully folded, then fried or cooked on a griddle until crispy on the outside and chewy within. It’s the kind of thing that makes toast look like a punishment.

Msemen has Berber roots, though trying to pin down its exact origin is like trying to trace the first person who decided to deep-fry something out of sheer curiosity and hunger. What is certain is that it has travelled all across North Africa—Algeria, Tunisia, even sneaking into France via immigrant communities—but nowhere does it shine quite like in Morocco.

It is, essentially, the flaky soulmate of Moroccan mint tea. And just like tea is never just tea in Morocco (there are rituals, layers of sugar, and probably a whole conversation about your mother involved), msemen is never just bread. It’s the centrepiece of breakfast gatherings, street stalls, and that one auntie who always manages to make it better than everyone else. She knows it, too.

There are variations, naturally. Some msemen comes plain, ready to soak up honey, butter, or jam like a carb sponge sent from heaven. Others are stuffed—with onions, meat, herbs, and spices—turning it into a kind of flatbread pasty hybrid. Algerians sometimes roll theirs a bit thinner and make it into a sweet treat with a drizzle of date syrup or powdered sugar. Tunisians might sneak in harissa because, well, Tunisians and harissa.

Moroccan msemen is traditionally made with a mix of semolina and flour, though some families have sworn oaths upon their tagines to only use one or the other. Water, salt, yeast (sometimes), and a lot of oil go into the mix. The real magic, though, is in the folding: you flatten the dough into a disk, spread it with oil and semolina, fold it into a square, rest it, then cook it on a hot griddle until it bubbles like a tiny golden mattress of joy.

What makes it special? It’s that satisfying contrast between the crispy, buttery outer layer and the soft, steaming, stretchy inside. Tear one open, and the steam puffs out like you’ve just released the soul of a Moroccan bakery. The process is simple, but the technique is pure artistry—you need just the right touch to get it thin enough without tearing it, to fold it evenly, and to time the cooking so it crisps without burning.

It’s also communal. You rarely see someone making msemen just for themselves. It’s a shared experience. Mamas teach daughters, cousins hover nearby to pinch a corner, neighbours sniff the air and mysteriously “pop in” at just the right moment. If you’re ever in a Moroccan home around 10am and you smell something toasty, don’t be shy. You might find yourself elbow-deep in honey before you know it.

Pairing msemen with drinks is an art of its own. Obviously, the go-to is mint tea—hot, green, and dangerously sweet. The kind that makes your dentist weep, but your soul rejoice. Coffee also works, especially the thick Turkish-style brew or French café noir. Some even go for a glass of buttermilk or laban, for a tangy contrast.

Food-wise, msemen doesn’t like to be alone. It gets on well with honey and butter (the classic), fig jam, olive oil with a sprinkle of za’atar, scrambled eggs, or even soft cheese if you’re feeling fusiony. The savoury stuffed versions play beautifully with soups like harira, lentil stew, or even a good old spicy shakshuka. Think of msemen as the diplomatic envoy of the Moroccan table—it works with everyone, even the ones you wouldn’t expect.

Health-wise, let’s not kid ourselves. Msemen isn’t winning any kale awards. It’s not low-carb, sugar-free, or detoxifying. It is, however, nourishing in a different way—a balm for the weary, a treat for the celebratory, and a nostalgic bite for Moroccans abroad. It’s made from simple ingredients, especially if you go easy on the oil (good luck with that), and it’s a lot better than pre-packaged pastries with unpronounceable preservatives.

Of course, if you really want to be health-conscious, make them smaller. Or share. Or do that thing where you eat half and say you’ll save the rest for later. (You won’t.)

Finding msemen outside North Africa used to be a challenge, but no more. In Paris, Marseille, and Brussels, you’ll find it steaming on street corners or lovingly handmade in Maghrebi bakeries. In London, some Moroccan delis or cafes have taken up the torch. And with TikTok and YouTube full of enthusiastic home cooks, you might even find someone flipping msemen in suburban Minnesota.

Still, nothing beats the real thing—hot off the griddle, served with loud conversation and an overfilled glass of mint tea. Preferably outdoors. Preferably at a table covered in patterned plastic and surrounded by plastic stools. Preferably with someone’s uncle in a djellaba telling you a joke that makes no sense but everyone laughs anyway.

If you want to try your hand at msemen, you’ll need a bit of time, a lot of love, and an apron you don’t mind oiling up. Here’s how it goes:

Msemen Recipe

Mix 2 cups of fine semolina with 2 cups of plain flour, a teaspoon of salt, and 1½ cups of warm water. Knead it until it’s smooth and elastic. Not sticky, but not stiff either. Think baby cheeks.

Let it rest under a damp towel for at least 30 minutes. Use this time to clean the kitchen, question your life choices, or text your cousin who always makes msemen better than you.

Divide the dough into golf-ball-sized pieces and coat them lightly in oil. Let them rest again for 10-15 minutes. Then, on an oiled surface, start flattening each ball into a very thin disk. Use your fingers, not a rolling pin. Gently. Like you’re trying to persuade the dough into something beautiful.

Sprinkle a bit of semolina on top. Fold each side inward to make a square. Let it rest a few minutes more. It’s a needy dough, but it’s worth it.

Heat a griddle or flat pan on medium heat. Add a little oil. Cook each msemen square on both sides until golden and crispy. Press lightly with a spatula to encourage even cooking and polite bubbling.

Serve immediately. With honey. With tea. With a sigh.

And there you have it. Not just a pancake. Not just bread. Msemen: flaky, chewy, golden layers of Moroccan magic. Try it once, and you’ll wonder why you ever wasted your mornings on soggy cereal.