Why do meals feel later than you're used to?

The short answer

Lunch lands around 1:30–3pm, dinner at 9 or 10. It follows the heat — you eat after it breaks, not when the clock says so. During Ramadan, the entire eating schedule shifts to after sunset, and the city's best energy happens between iftar and midnight.

It's 9:30pm. You're starving. The restaurant is empty. The waiter looks surprised you're here — not annoyed, just confused. Why would anyone eat at 9:30?

Dinner in Morocco starts at 10pm. Sometimes later. The day's main meal is lunch — between 1pm and 3pm — and it's substantial: tagine, couscous, salads, bread, fruit. After lunch comes rest. After rest comes the late afternoon revival. By the time the heat breaks, the evening prayer is called, tea is served, and the city finally exhales, it is 9pm and nobody is hungry yet.

The schedule makes thermal sense. Cooking heats the house. In a climate where you spend all day trying to stay cool, adding a stove's worth of heat at midday and again at 7pm is wasteful. One hot meal in the early afternoon, one late meal when the air has cooled — the kitchen works with the climate, not against it.

Ramadan shifts everything further. During the holy month, no food or water passes the lips from dawn to sunset. Iftar — the breaking of the fast — happens at sunset, around 7:30pm in summer. The real dinner follows at 10 or 11pm. A pre-dawn meal, suhoor, is eaten at 3 or 4am. The entire city operates on a schedule that would be unrecognizable to a visitor expecting breakfast at 8.

Hotel breakfast buffets open at 7am because tourists expect it. Moroccans think this is insane.