KNIFE IN HAND, I stared intently at the carrots, peas, and peppers assembled on my cutting board. I was with a group of Brits, Aussies, and Americans in the kitchen of Heaven’s Way restaurant in the small village of Alma, Morocco, having arrived in the nearby port of Agadir that morning on board the Seabourn Ovation. In this class, we were learning to make tagine from local women. After picking up ingredients at a nearby street market, we followed our instructors’ directions, cutting each vegetable differently—zucchini into coins and potatoes into wedges—to best mound over chicken. As we passed around seasonings like nutty argan oil, ground ginger, and harissa, I caught a whiff of the fragrant ras el hanout, in which 35 freshly ground spices mingled, and grabbed a giant…