Where there’s smoke, there’s fire. If you take one look at Merguez, and then one sniff, you’ll know nothing proves that old adage quite like this Moroccan sausage. The smoke comes from the cumin seed and the waft of the grill; the fire from the flames that lick its charred casing, and the burning heat of chili that you find within. If you read my weekly column French in a Flash, then you know that I tend to produce what might be called artistic French home cooking. And if you read that column you’ll also know that I have a French-Moroccan grandmother. What you may not know, my best worst-kept secret, is that I absolutely live and breathe for...
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