Deep in the Sahara, a dry, desert wind blows, picking up speed as it travels north. By the time that it reaches North Africa, it collides with a cool, humid air mass that blows off the Mediterranean, forming the formidable ill wind known as the sirocco.
The chergui, as it is called in Morocco, wreaks havoc at the marketplace in Marrakesh, disrupting displays and covering wares with dust and sand. The spice merchants watch helplessly as the carefully formed cones of their finest spice are sent swirling into the air, caught by the chergui and carried off like loot as it makes its way east.
In Tunisia, it blows through plantations of date palms. The tall, slender trunks bow in its wake, mercilessly shaking the fronds and dislodging the drupes. These, too, are caught in the wind and carried north.
It makes its way across Malta, where it plunders a lemon grove, then up the coast to Naples, where it leaves the maccheronaros enraged as it makes off with sheets of pasta.
From there, it travels due west, across the Mediterranean, picking up speed and humidity. When it reaches Spain, it glides over ancient landscapes and makes its way to the elevated plains of Castilla y Leon. Approaching the fortified city of Avila, it sweeps over Romanesque walls, topples herds of goats, then takes off with their prized Montenebro cheese.
Turning south, it heads back towards the Mediterranean to Jerez de la Frontera. It rushes through a vineyard, uprooting vines of Pedro Ximenez and swipes multiple bottles of Fino off a shelf at a bodega. It hightails itself out of town, but not before ruffling the skirts of a group of flamenco dancers.
Propelled by a low pressure system on its tail, it makes its way across the Atlantic. Laden with mischief and loot, the wind tires and loses momentum. When it reaches the New World, it has barely enough energy to make its way through an open door, seeking a safe spot to deposit its spoils before going off to expire.
An unsuspecting resident enters the room and stares in disbelief at the scene before her. Every surface in the kitchen is covered with piles of fragrant spice, sheets of pasta, logs of cheese, lemons, dates, and bottles of sherry. She shudders as a cold breeze brushes past her and she closes the door.
ras el hanout raviolo filled with Montenebro
dried date and fino sherry puree
spruce powder
yogurt with sumac
puffed ras el hanout pasta
fresh date
preserved lemon
spruce
Playing with Fire and Water 
That is some imagination you got there. I need google maps just to follow the story.
Happy New Year.
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That’s quite the windstorm! Beautiful dish and I can imagine it to be a wonderful flavor.
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