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I lift up the lid and inhale the aromas of what looks like a flaky pot pie, dusted with powdered sugar, the top scored in a crosshatch pattern. And holy moly, mother of the gods, I'm embraced by heavenly scents. Spicy. Sweet. Savory. Delicious. I commandeer a fork, take a bite, chew, and then swallow. Three layers of flavors infused with chicken, egg, and almonds melt on my tongue, the finish topped off with whispers of orange blossom, saffron, ginger, cumin, and turmeric. "This is absolutely incredible. What is this delight?"
"Bastilla," he says with a proud smile. "It's a typical recipe from Morocco, where I'm originally from, usually made with pigeon, but this one is made with chicken. My mother's recipe. It's also called pastilla.
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