
I’ve never been to North Africa, but I’ve taught classes about francophone culture and literature. I’ve also taught a class about food and we read novels set in Morocco and Algeria that go on and on about olives, olive oil, couscous, eating goat and making yogurt. I love reading about food and I love North African food. My husband has already been to Morocco and is not itching to get back there, so I’m thinking that I’ll just keep making food like this and begging to go to North Africa until I wear him down. My friend Mercedes, transplanted from France to the U.S. against her will (it was her heart that did it), also loves food from North Africa. That’s why she gives me things like the world’s largest couscoussier, a lovely tajine dish and books on North African cuisine. If you don’t know what it is, I’ll write about the couscoussier some other time. Today it’s tajine, a traditional Moroccan dish that is prepared quite often in France.
Tajine is one of those funny words in French that has been borrowed from another language, in this case Arabic, and it means both the serving vessel and the food that is prepared in it. It’s funny because unlike most other words in French, this one seems to slip gender, masculine or feminine, depending on the speaker. If you follow the rules, it should be le tajine, because any word borrowed from another language is automatically tagged masculine, so you would say le hot dog, le ketchup and le whisky, for instance. However, some words just look and sound feminine or they are feminine in the original language, and so some speakers of French use the feminine articles la and une with these words, like Nutella or tajine. It’s really funny to bring up words like this with French people, because it will inevitably start a long discussion about grammar and they can be pretty passionate about their opinions, especially when it’s related to food. In the end, it’s really a tomato, tomahto or rose by any other name question. I just want to eat le or la tajine that’s been prepared in le or la tajine.
So, Tajines, by Ghislaine Benady, that Mercedes gave me is full of amazing recipes. I haven’t gotten around to making all of them, but I do make the classic one, chicken with preserved lemon and green olives. I’ve made it following the recipe in Tajines, from the one from Paula Wolfort’s book, Couscous and Other Good Food from Morocco, and also from websites, including the Moroccan Ministry of Communication, which has a lot of really good looking recipes for Moroccan food and some pretty funny translations to boot. Smelted butter anyone? I’ve finally settled on a method that combines several recipes.
There are some important things to keep in mind when making this dish. Don’t believe other recipes that state that you can use fresh lemon peel in the place of preserved lemons. Either make some preserved lemons using the guidelines provided below, buy some preserved lemons in your local fancy food store or order some on-line. Amazon.com sells a 7.5 oz. jar of Mustapha’s Moroccan Preserved Lemons for $7.95 and Kalustyan’s sells one of about the same size for about that price and they also have a one pound jar for $10.99 and a two pound jar for $16.99. I’m thinking that the large size is a good deal, but you might not want it taking up room in your refrigerator. I say just make some preserved lemons with a few dollars worth of the fruit and good salt and wait a week before you make this dish. Some recipes for preserved lemons say to use olive oil. It’s really not necessary. Also, you should use good quality green olives, preferably the kind that aren’t really big and that are a little brownish, not bright green. Many of the recipes that I’ve read in French that use olives say that if your olives are bitter or really salty, you can boil them in water for just a minute or two and then proceed with the recipe, but I usually try to find olives that suit my taste. My recipe has a nod to French method, because I say to brown the chicken first and then to saut? the onions and garlic. In traditional North African cooking, you would just put all of the ingredients in with the liquid and let the liquid cook everything. While this produces a very fine and more authentic dish, I really love the flavor that you get from browning the meat in the pot before you cook the rest of the food. I’ve been obsessing about the Maillard reaction lately and trying to apply things I’ve learned from Harold McGee, but I’ll write more at length about it some other time. Finally, I lightened up the recipe by not using tons of olive oil, just enough to get the chicken browned. I also usually lighten it further by cooking it a day ahead and scraping the fat off of the top before reheating it.
Chicken Tagine With Lemon and Green Olives: Djej M’Chermel
- 1 chicken, 3- 4 lbs., cut into 8 pieces, plus liver and giblets or 8 chicken thighs
- 2 medium onions, finely chopped
- 4 cloves garlic, finely minced
- 2 teaspoons paprika
- 1 teaspoon ground ginger
- 1 teaspoon ground cumin
- 1/2 teaspoon ground turmeric
- 1/2 teaspoon saffron, crushed
- 1 bunch cilantro, chopped
- 4 tablespoons flat-leaf parsley, chopped
- 1 teaspoon salt
- 1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
- 2 T extra virgin olive oil
- 2 cups chicken stock
- 2 cups water
- Peel from 1/2 preserved lemon, pulp discarded, chopped
- 1 cup green olives, pitted and cut into slivers
- Juice of 1 or 2 lemons
Warm the olive oil in a Dutch oven over high heat and add the chicken pieces, skin side down and cook until skin is golden brown. Remove chicken pieces to a plate. Once they have cooled, you may peel off and discard the skin and other fat, if desired (I always do this). Reduce the heat to medium low and add onion, garlic, paprika, ginger, cumin, turmeric, saffron, half of the cilantro, parsley, salt and pepper. Cook until the onions are translucent, but not browned. Add the chicken back to the pot along with the chicken stock, water and liver and giblets (if using). Turn heat to high until the liquid just comes to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer, stirring occasionally, until chicken is tender, about 30-40 minutes. Add the preserved lemon peel, olives and lemon juice and continue to cook until the chicken is very tender, about 15 minutes longer. Remove chicken and (optional) liver and giblets from the pot and turn heat to high. Boil the sauce to thicken it somewhat. Chop the (optional) chicken liver and giblets finely or put them in a food processor and pulse until smooth. Stir this mixture into the pot and add the chicken and all of the liquid from the plate back in as well. Taste and adjust the seasonings, adding more lemon juice or salt if needed. Serve with quick couscous (see below) and sprinkle cilantro generously over everything. We ate this with some zucchini saut?ed in olive oil with garlic.
Quick couscous
- 2 cups couscous, also called semolina grains
- 1/4 cup golden raisins
- 4 cups chicken stock or water (or a combination)
- 1 t salt
- 1/4 cup slivered almonds, toasted.
Boil water in a pot large enough to hold all of the ingredients. When water comes to a boil, turn the water off, add the couscous, raisins and salt and put the lid on the pot (you can use a plate if your pot has no lid). After 2 or 3 minutes, remove lid and use a fork to fluff and separate the grains of couscous and break up any lumps. Place the lid back on the top and wait about 10 minutes before serving. Serve with the toasted almonds sprinkled on top.
Preserved lemons
- 4 lemons, preferably organic, scrubbed
- 1/2 cup sea salt
- 1/2 cup freshly squeezed lemon juice
- Enough boiling water to fill your jar
- A sterilized jar, with a tight fitting lid, that is large enough to hold the fruit (to sterilize, boil in water or run it through the dishwasher right before using)

Take each lemon in your hand and make vertical slits from the blossom end to the tip without cutting all the way through the fruit. Place the lemons, salt and lemon juice in the jar. Add enough boiling water to fill the jar. Put the lid on the jar. Place the jar in the refrigerator for at least a week before using the lemons. When you want to use a lemon, use a clean utensil to fish one out, not your hands.
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