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Published 2010
The Iceberg is the sort of place you’d want to live near if you had an apartment in Marrakech—a neighborhood corner restaurant with a charcoal-burning grill out front on which tall piles of spatchcocked baby chickens are roasted the color of burnt orange, then dispersed throughout the neighborhood from morning to midnight. Think your local rotisserie chicken joint with harissa (Moroccan hot sauce), and I’m not sure what would be more appealing: the aroma or the convenience. Serve the
