I Dream of Tajinie

I might have discovered my love of meat sauce over rice from living in Taiwan, or my love of roast chicken over rice from living in a Latino neighborhood in Manhattan, or the whole affair might have been cinched when I bought a roast chicken from an Egyptian guy here in France, who said that the sauce was so finger-lickin’ good I’d have to be careful not to bite my fingers when I ate it. In any case, I have a love affair with meat (especially chicken) with sauce over rice.

A tajine (or tagine, or tajin) is a clay pot with a domed top from North Africa that is used to simmer dishes for a long period of time. My first introduction to this dish was when my Moroccan friend Amina (who reads my blog and will surely have something to say about my unorthodox way of preparing a tajine) took time from her busy family of five (with one more on the way) to make a chicken tajine for our whole family so we could enjoy this delicious dish from her country.

I remember learning this from her, and then my perspective broadened when another Moroccan acquaintance lent me her tajine recipe book, before moving back to Morocco without remembering to collect it from me. From this I learned that there are so many other possibilities of tajines – fish, seafood, beef, lamb, vegetables. And you can prepare it with so many different flavors: raisins and cumin and pears – oh my!

I have a recipe that I make all the time, loosely based on Amina’s recipe, loosely based on that book that is now in my possession, loosely based on this recipe, but largely based on what works for me.

Shall we get started? There are only two things to know. One – wear old clothes. Two – turn the chicken carefully with two long firm utensils so that it doesn’t fall back into the sauce and splash the turmeric all over your white walls. Not like I’ve ever done that or anything.  

Actually there are three things – the hardest part of making this is at the very beginning, so if you can get through that, you will have the most delicious dish waiting for your dinner that you have eaten in a long, long time. You will have to be careful not to accidentally bite your fingers.

I don’t have a tajine pot. So …

Cover the bottom of a large pot with olive oil and let it get really hot over a high flame.

Brown the chicken on all sides.

(This is hot and greasy and messy – I’m sorry. There’s no way around it unless you want to skip this step. But I wouldn’t).

Chop up 4 onions, 6 cloves of a garlic, and 2 pieces of ginger (according to taste), about this much – although if you feel like adding more you can:

You can probably use powdered ginger in a pinch, but I buy and peel a whole piece of ginger, cut it in large cubes and freeze it for just such a use. You could also probably make your life easier by adding frozen onions and garlic too instead of the fresh. Or you could just throw it all in the cuisinart.

The chicken will now be set on a plate to the side, and you will have to add more olive oil. You need a lot – probably a 1/3 to ½ cup in all.  

Stir the onion mix and add a tablespoon of turmeric

2 capsules of saffron. Or if it isn’t sold like that, probably the equivalent of ¼ teaspoon. I’m guessing. This is potent stuff.

Then a tablespoon of paprica.

Aren’t the colors so pretty? Aren’t they so Moroccan looking?

Then you’ll need a tablespoon of sea salt (maybe less if it’s table salt – not sure – start with ½ tablespoon).  I thought it was not enough until I added the olives. Then I found that amount to be just enough.

When the onion and spice mix is browned, add the chicken, and add 2 small cans of crushed tomatoes.

I like my dishes really tomatoey.

Then you need the juice of about 3 lemons. A proper tajine will call for pickled lemons, but I find I don’t like it as much.

These lemons had tons of juice, so I wasn’t careful about using every drop. I let quite a bit go with the pulp. It was perfectly to taste, I must say.

Let this mixture come to a boil (which is should quickly), and then simmer it for over two hours.

Turn the chicken every half-hour or so, and you’ll see that it will start to break up and get really tender and filled with spicy flavor.

When your chicken is done cooking, add a small jar of pitted green olives.

And wow. Honestly?

Serve it over white rice, which soaks up the spicy, colorful sauce, and you will be surrounded with slavish adoration on all sides – from your own kids all the way over to the surly neighbor who lives down the street. For yes – the perfumed aroma can woo even the surly.

(Optional additions: cilantro, chili pepper, black pepper, pickled lemons, but then cut down on the lemon juice to just one).  

And … hugs everyone.  If you were here I would make it for you.

If you’d like to see more recipes, click here for my recipe page!

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