I just got back from a trip to Morocco, where the highlights included the ruins of a 12th-century mosque, a view from the Kasbah over the Atlantic and orange juice. That’s right, orange juice. Seemingly on every corner, there’s a kiosk where someone is squeezing juice to order—a far cry from the generally ersatz “fresh-squeezed” stuff in restaurants here. Another lesson in freshness was the mint tea, made with sprigs of bright-green leaves rather than dry-as-dust (and about as appetizing) mint sachets—though the pastries, full of sweet syrups and nuts, were even better than the tea, and the nougat and candied nuts, sold from carts in cleaver-hacked chunks with wasps buzzing around, were better still. I don’t think I can replicate the views, the pastries or the nougat at home, but I have a garden with mint in it, and I brought back an ornate little set of glasses, so at least I can brew up some tea.