MEGA MEAL
Perfumed with spices and amped up with fiery chili paste, this North African classic is what to eat now
By ALEKSANDRA CRAPANZANO
Justin Walker for The Wall Street Journal, Food Styling by Jamie Kimm, Prop
Styling by DSM
DIY DINNER | Guests can build their own bowls, spooning in their preferred ratios of couscous, chicken and vegetables, broth and harissa.
ONE MIGHT ASSUME that Moroccan food is best eaten in summer’s heat, but to my mind there is no better time to conjure the North African sun than on a cold day. A blizzard might be in the forecast, but with the heady spices of a couscous stew, the simmering chicken broth and the fiery heat of harissa, I can spin a fragrant cocoon and dream of the Mediterranean blue.
Before I came along to make such adventures impractical, my parents—an anthropologist and a journalist—spent two years in Meknès, in northern Morocco. It was the kind of carefree, romantic time that children never successfully imagine their parents having. They lived a stone’s throw from the Medina, wrote by day and cooked by night—a simple existence, and all the more intensely lived for being so. It was there that my mother learned to make a traditional couscous—the name for tiny beads of durum wheat semolina as well as for the delectable stew they are part of, which can only be described as an entire feast in one course.
If there is one essential element, it is most definitely a good ras el hanout. Translated roughly as “best-of-the-shop,” ras el hanout is the distinctive and very personal mix of spices that gives couscous its aroma and depth. One cook might include upward of 30 spices, another no more than five or six. For years, I’d go to a small, crowded shop on Atlantic Avenue in Brooklyn, N.Y., where a young clerk would take a little of this spice and a little of that from the bins and mix the most nuanced ras el hanout I’d ever tasted. One day, I showed up and found that he had moved away from New York, leaving me no choice but to re-create my own version from memory.
The next most important decision for the couscous maker concerns which meats to include. Lamb is traditional, but, like my mother, I prefer chicken for its capacity to absorb the perfume of the ras el hanout. And while seven vegetables is customary in a traditional couscous—seven being a lucky number in Morocco—I ignore that superstition (at my own peril, I’m sure) in favor of a more focused dish, showcasing perhaps two or three seasonal vegetables.
When I was growing up, the couscoussière (a purpose-built double-boiler used to cook couscous) would come down from the cupboard a few times a year, and my mother would make the dish for a dozen or so happy guests. Everyone served themselves, first the couscous grains, then the vegetables and chicken, a ladle or two of broth and a swirl of vibrant red harissa. I’d pick out my favorite bits—always the chicken, meltingly tender and falling off the bone. Little did I realize that over those many years I was tailoring my own recipe, which I share here. With an abundance of dried fruit and butternut squash, it is on the sweeter side. But countered with the hot peppers in the harissa, it becomes a complex marriage of sugar, spice and heat—the ideal foil for November’s chill.
Butternut Squash and Chicken Couscous
The harissa recipe used here was adapted from one in “A Mediterranean Feast” by Clifford Wright. The technique for making instant couscous as buttery and flavorful as the long-cooked variety comes from cookbook author Jeff Koehler.
Hands-On Time: 1 hour Total Time: 2 hours, 15 minutes Serves: 6
ras el hanout:
2 teaspoons freshly ground nutmeg
1½ teaspoons freshly ground black pepper
2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon ground allspice
1½ teaspoons freshly ground cardamom
2 teaspoons ground ginger
10 threads saffron, optional, rubbed between your fingers until powdery
1 teaspoon ground mace
1 teaspoon ground turmeric
¼ teaspoon ground cloves
¼ teaspoon cayenne pepper
1 teaspoon ground coriander
Harissa:
8 dried guajillo chilies, stemmed and seeded
8 dried New Mexico chilies, stemmed and seeded
½ teaspoon caraway seeds
¼ teaspoon coriander seeds
¼ teaspoon cumin seeds
1 teaspoon dried mint leaves
3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, plus more as needed
1½ teaspoons kosher salt
5 cloves garlic
Juice of 1 lemon
Stew:
6 tablespoons unsalted butter
4 tablespoons ras el hanout, plus more to taste
1 chicken, cut into 6 pieces, skin removed
2 medium butternut squash, peeled, seeded and cut into 2-inch chunks
2 cups white pearl onions, peeled
3 quarts chicken broth
12 ounces pitted prunes
½ cup golden raisins
½ cup dark raisins
Salt and freshly ground pepper
Couscous:
8 cups chicken broth
3 pounds instant couscous
6 tablespoons melted butter
Garnish:
1 cup almond slivers, toasted, until golden
½ cup red currants, plumped in warm broth
Zest of 1 orange
2 tablespoons orange blossom honey
1. Make ras el hanout: Mix ingredients together. Set aside.
2. Make harissa: Put chilies into a medium bowl, cover with boiling water and let sit until softened, about 20 minutes. Heat caraway, coriander and cumin in a medium-size skillet over medium heat. Toast spices, swirling skillet constantly, until very fragrant, about 4 minutes. Transfer spices to a grinder, add mint and grind to a fine powder. Set aside.
3. Drain chilies and transfer to the bowl of a food processor along with ground spices, olive oil, salt, garlic and lemon juice. Purée, stopping occasionally to scrape down sides of bowl, until paste is very smooth, about 2 minutes. Transfer to a sterilized 1-pint glass jar and fill with oil until ingredients are submerged by ½ inch. Refrigerate, topping off with more oil after each use. Harissa will keep up to three weeks. Before serving, emulsify paste with a little olive oil so it can be easily swirled into stew.
4. Make stew: Place a large heavy-bottomed pot over medium heat. Melt butter. Add ras el hanout and cook, stirring, until spices become fragrant, about 3 minutes. Add chicken, skinned side-down, and cook, turning once, until golden, about 5 minutes. Add onions, stir to combine and cook 1-2 minutes, being careful not to let butter brown. Season with salt to taste.
5. Turn heat up to high. Add enough chicken broth to cover meat and vegetables and bring liquid almost to a boil. Reduce heat to low and simmer, partially covered, 30 minutes. Add prunes and raisins and cook another 15 minutes, for a total of 45 minutes. Season with salt, pepper and additional ras el hanout, to taste, keeping in mind that harissa will bring piquancy to the dish, too. Strain stew, reserving spiced broth. Set chicken and vegetables and spiced broth aside.
6. Make couscous: Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Meanwhile, place a medium-size pot over high heat. Pour in broth and bring to a simmer. Remove from heat and let cool 5-10 minutes.
7. Place couscous in a large ovenproof baking dish or braising pan. While stirring with a fork to keep grains from clumping, pour in warm broth. Let couscous sit 10 minutes.
8. Stirring with fork again, pour in melted butter. Using your hands, separate grains by gently rubbing couscous between your palms and then tossing. Place dish in oven and bake, stirring every few minutes, 10-15 minutes. Remove from oven and fluff couscous using two large serving forks.
9. To serve: Place vegetables and chicken on a large, high-sided platter, scattered with toasted almond slivers, currants and orange zest. Place couscous and spiced broth in serving bowls. Allow guests to assemble their own bowls with couscous, chicken and vegetables and broth, making the couscous as soupy or dry as they choose. Pass harissa around the table for seasoning. For children, drizzle with honey instead.
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