Out of North Africa

A Moroccan restaurant on a fogswept corner of the outer Richmond is hardly the makings an insta-hit. But Marrakesh native Mourad Lahlou, 40, who opened Aziza at Geary and 23rd eight years ago, is a man of tenacity and talent. Instead of hype, Lahlou has quietly cultivated a stellar reputation by working doggedly on the line, slowly taking Moroccan food in new directions: preparing a spice-infused guinea hen sous vide, using gelatin with the essence of preserved lemon in a salad. This is clearly his year. On February 25, Lahlou received a three-and-a-half star rating from Michael Bauer; four days later, he coolly destroyed Cat Cora on Iron Chef. He’s producing a 13-part cooking show for public television that will take place in Marrakesh and SF, along with a companion cookbook. One day soon, he hopes to move Aziza to a more likely location, but ultimately it’s all about the food: “I just want to have a place where I can take Moroccan food as far as I can without disrespecting it.”

How has your food changed?

We’re trying to take Moroccan food to a place it could be, not to a place that it doesn’t belong. The guinea hen dish, for example. We used to take the leg and thigh and braise them in saffron, cumin and turmeric, in the typical Moroccan way. Now I debone the whole bird, put the same spices over it, then sprinkle it with Activa, glue it into a roll and cook it sous vide. It’s juicy, it’s perfect.

Is this interpretation of Moroccan a hard sell?

Well, 99.99 percent of Moroccan restaurants are serving the same recipes that they’ve been serving since the ’70s—like stews and braises. People have the perception that this is what Moroccan food is about.

I say “ethnic” and “fusion”—you say …

What the f— is ethnic anyway? Manresa uses dashi, soy sauce—does that mean they’re ethnic? In food, I don’t think there should be categories. “Ethnic” creates borders and lines, and food shouldn’t be political. It should be good food or bad food. Fusion? I don’t like that word at all.

Aziza is named after your mother. Has she been to visit?

My mother’s visited [from Marrakesh] once. She was blown away that we could cook with our style but still taste authentic. I gave her a piquillo pepper salad. We’d roasted the peppers, put gelatin in the pepper water and infused it with preserved lemons. She could taste the preserved lemon but she couldn’t see it.

You recently won an Iron Chef battle. Were you nervous?

The day of the battle, half an hour before I was supposed to go on, I said, “I have a problem. I’m not nervous.” One of the cooks working with me said, “Well, I have enough butterflies for both of us.”

David Kinch, Chris Cosentino— a lot of Bay Area chefs have been doing battle on that show.

But there weren’t at first. When I went to New York to meet the Food Network people, I realized they have this perception that chefs in the Bay Area can’t cook without their local produce—like they have to have their perfect carrots, meat to cook. One guy told me, “You can give a decent chef from New York shit and he or she will make something decent to eat. But if you give chefs from the Bay Area shit, they’ll make shit.” That really upset me.

What’s your secret ingredient?

Fermented black garlic. It’s Korean. It loses all the taste of garlic and tastes like molasses. I put whole cloves in my gypsy pepper salad.

Has the current economy affected Aziza?

Labor used to be an issue, but now the talent level has shot through the roof. It’s kind of cool, but it’s kind of sad—we placed an ad for a part-time server position and asked people to show up between 1 and 3 p.m.: 327 people showed up.

What’s your stress release?

Basketball. This Monday, I’m playing with chefs Laurence Jossel from Nopa, maybe David Kinch and James Syhabout. Sometimes we grab a bite to eat after, at Fish or Sushi Ran.

If you weren’t a chef?

I’d be a waiter and make more money. No—I’d probably be a farmer. I like the whole circle of cooking. Or a writer. Too bad I’m not good at that.