How to Make Moroccan Mint Tea

The base is always Chinese gunpowder green tea — rolled pellets of Camellia sinensis, typically grade 3505. The pellets unfurl as they steep and produce a stronger, slightly smoky infusion than other green teas. You will find it labelled "thé vert Chine 3505" in every Moroccan grocer and souk spice stall. Loose-leaf sencha or matcha are not substitutes and will produce a different — and to most Moroccans, incorrect — flavour.

Pouring from 30–40 cm above the glass serves two purposes: it aerates the tea, producing the foam (natcha) that signals a skilled pour, and it drops the temperature just enough to drink quickly. There is also a social dimension — the drama of the high pour is part of the hospitality ritual. A host who barely lifts the pot above the glass is considered to be hurrying guests. In competition among tea makers, the height can exceed 50 cm.

There is no single answer, which surprises many visitors. The standard is three to five teaspoons per 400 ml pot, stirred in before steeping rather than added to the glass. Sugar in the pot means every glass poured has the same sweetness. In the Sahara and rural Souss region the tea is extremely sweet — sometimes described as "tea-flavoured syrup" by foreigners — while coastal and urban households often reduce it significantly. Asking for tea without sugar (bla sukkar) is understood and never rude.

The traditional saying is that you should drink three glasses: the first is as bitter as life, the second as strong as love, the third as sweet as death. In practice, one pot typically fills three to four small glasses and a respectful guest accepts at least two. Declining the first glass is awkward; declining after two or three is perfectly acceptable by placing your hand over the glass or gently tipping it. Leaving a glass fully undrunk is mildly impolite.

Yes, but the timing matters. Accepting the first glass honours the host's hospitality; declining before the first sip is more likely to cause mild awkwardness. To decline gracefully, say "shukran, barak Allahou fik" (thank you, God bless you) and place your hand lightly over the glass. Dietary or health reasons are always understood. Refusing on principle — for instance because you dislike sugar — is best softened by simply accepting and taking small sips rather than declining outright.

Both use gunpowder green tea and fresh mint, but there are two meaningful differences. Tunisian tea often incorporates pine nuts floated on the surface of the second glass (a peanut-like garnish rarely seen in Morocco), and it is commonly flavoured with a small amount of orange-blossom water. Moroccan tea, by contrast, is straightforward: tea, mint, sugar. Algerian tea sits somewhere between the two, sometimes adding geranium leaves. Moroccan tea also tends to be poured in a more theatrical style — the high pour is a specifically Moroccan flourish.

Dried mint is a widely used substitute and produces a perfectly acceptable result, though the flavour is flatter and slightly dusty compared with fresh spearmint. In winter or in regions where fresh nana is scarce, Moroccans themselves use dried mint. Some households add a sprig of wormwood (chiba / Artemisia absinthium) alongside the mint, which gives a slightly bitter, anise-adjacent note — particularly common in northern Morocco. Peppermint extract or herbal tea bags are not substitutes that any Moroccan would recognise.