North African

I like to make this dish with cod, but other fish such as bream, turbot, monkfish, and grouper may also be used.

All kinds of white fish fillets can be cooked in this way, but I am particularly fond of skate wings with these flavors. The flesh is fine and delicate and easily parts from the layer of soft cartilaginous ribs. Small skate wings can be sautéed but the thicker, more prized wings of the larger fish must be poached (see Variations).

This is good hot or cold and can be made well in advance. The best fish to use is bream, cod, haddock, or turbot.

The marinade and sauce called chermoula that gives the distinctive flavor to this dish is used in most Moroccan fish dishes, whether fried, steamed, or cooked in a tagine. Every town, every family, has its own special combination of ingredients. Bream, haddock, and turbot can also be used.

Bessara is the name of the soup as well as a creamy paste, made in the same way but with less water (see Variation). You can buy the split and skinless dried fava beans in Asian and Middle Eastern stores. They look creamy white without their dried brown skins.

Harira is the generic term for a soup full of pulses—chickpeas, lentils, or beans—with little meat, few vegetables, and plenty of herbs and spices. Every day during the holy month of Ramadan, when Muslims fast between sunrise and sunset, the smell of this soup permeates the streets as every household prepares its own version to be eaten when the sound of the cannon signals the breaking of the fast. While ingredients and spices vary, a particular feature is the way it is given what is described in Morocco as a “velvety” touch by stirring in a sourdough batter or simply flour mixed with water. In the cities in Morocco, it serves as a one-dish evening meal, and in rural areas it is also eaten as breakfast before peasants go out to work in the fields. During Ramadan, it is served with lemon quarters and accompanied by dates and honeyed pastries. The soup can be made a long time in advance, but if you are adding the tiny bird’s-tongue pasta—douida in Morocco (you find it in Middle Eastern stores), orzo in Italian stores (or you can use broken vermicelli)—these should be added only about 10 to 15 minutes before you are ready to serve, otherwise they will get bloated and mushy. I have given measurements for a large quantity because it is a rich, substantial soup that you might like to serve as a one-dish meal at a party. The best cuts of meat to use are shoulder or neck fillet.

This is a “poor man’s” version of the famous pigeon pie called bstilla (or pastilla), which is such a favorite at weddings and festive occasions, and which Moroccans say was brought back by the Moors from Andalusia. I have to admit that this pie, which comes from Fez, is very much more to my taste than the grander version. Don’t be put off by what might seem like a difficult recipe; it is truly scrumptious and you must try it. In Morocco, the pie is made with trid, an oily puff pastry made by pulling an elastic dough until it is paper-thin and layering it. Since trid is not available in this country, use fillo, which is a perfect substitute. It comes in various commercial sizes. It is best to use the large-size sheets, which are available frozen in packages from Middle Eastern and other specialty stores. The sheets I use for this pie (from a popular brand) measure about 19 inches × 12 inches. If you can find only smaller sheets, you can have more of them overlapping. Wrap any sheets that are left over in plastic wrap and keep in the refrigerator for future use.

In Morocco, these briwat bil kefta are made with warka (see page 29) and deep-fried, but it is not only much easier to use fillo and to bake them, but the result is very good. See the note on fillo on page 9. I used sheets measuring about 6 inches × 12 inches. It is very good finger food to serve at a party.

These Moroccan fish cakes can be served as a first course with green salad leaves. They also make good finger food for a party. Use cod, haddock, or another firm white fish.

I am lucky enough to find freshly shelled fava beans and peas at my local supermarket. If you grow your own, or have a source of really young vegetables, use them, but it is better to use frozen petits pois and fava beans rather than old fresh ones.

In Morocco, this is considered “poor food.” It is eaten hot with bread to soak up the juices. You could make it with canned chickpeas, in which case it would take only a few minutes to cook, but for a large quantity like this, it is worth using dried chickpeas, as their taste and texture is better and they will have time to absorb the flavors. You need to soak them in water for a few hours or overnight.

I use the frozen artichoke bottoms obtainable from Middle Eastern and Asian grocers, who also sometimes sell frozen skinned fava beans. Some supermarkets sell freshly shelled fava beans. You do not need to remove the skins if they are young. If you wish to use fresh artichokes, see page 8.

Preserved lemons bring one of the defining flavors to Moroccan salads and are often used together with olives. Cook the spinach in two batches if your saucepan is not large enough for all the bulky spinach leaves. Keep back 4 or 5 whole olives as a garnish.

A mild and soft fresh goat cheese, jban, is one of the rare cheeses produced in Morocco. If you are not keen on raw garlic, you can leave it out.

Bitter oranges—Seville oranges—are commonly used in Morocco, but this salad is also good with sweet ones. Argan oil (see page 31) gives it a nutty flavor.

These minty carrots are tasty and aromatic. Serve them hot or warm as an appetizer or to accompany grilled or roast meat or chicken.

Use pears that are ripe but still firm (Comice is a good variety) and salad leaves such as curly endive, chicory, cress, arugula, and lamb’s lettuce (mâche). You can stick to one type only or use a mix.

I love this popular Moroccan salad. It is best made several hours in advance so that the flavors have time to penetrate.

I’ve baked these spicy chicken breasts for crowds, and always receive lots of compliments. The original recipe was for grill-cooking, but this version works year-round.

This is my version of harira, the national soup of Morocco, which shows up in unending variations from city to city, street stall to street stall, and family to family. It can be vegan, vegetarian, or made with meat—usually lamb. Some cooks add chickpeas, chicken gizzards, or broken-up bits of angel hair pasta. But the result is always unmistakably harira, and that's what makes it so comforting and satisfying. Harira has the inexplicable quality of being both light and filling at the same time, making you feel perfectly content. That's why, besides being the national soup, it's also a religious institution: it's what every family in Morocco eats to break their daily fast all through the monthlong observance of Ramadan. All over the country, for an entire month of sunsets, the first thing the entire population tastes is harira, and breaking the fast with anything else would be like serving Thanksgiving dinner without turkey. During Ramadan here in the States, I fast all day, even though I keep up my normal schedule, shopping in the farmers' market and working in the kitchen. As soon as the sun goes down, I step away from my expediting station and have a quick bowlful of harira to get me through the evening. And on days off, I take home a quart of it to break the fast at my house. The first time you make this, try making a light meal of it, with just some bread and maybe a simple salad. You'll understand what I'm talking about. It's weirdly, wonderfully satisfying—in a way that fills your soul more than your stomach. I make harira with water, not stock, because I think this vegetarian (actually, vegan) version is lighter and cleaner tasting, but you can make it with chicken or lamb stock or half stock and half water. While its flavor is very true to the original, I've played with its preparation. For example, I cook the lentils separately, to keep them from breaking down too much. (My mom called that crazy, but she smiled when she tasted the result.) And if you cook them in the soup, they darken the cooking liquid and give the soup a muddy appearance. The yeast-and-flour mixture is my version of the traditional starter made from fermented flour and water, used exclusively for harira, that you'll find in every Moroccan kitchen. It's easier to manage but has the same effect as that sourdough original, thickening and lightening the soup, and keeping it from separating, while adding a rich, tangy flavor. I wanted to give people a little crunch without adding an extra element, so I took the celery out of its usual place in the sautéed soup base and reintroduced it at the end as a raw garnish. In Morocco, harira is classically served with dates, which add sweetness to balance the soup's acidity. Taste it without the dates, and then try it with them. You'll find it's an entirely different experience. When I first started serving this soup at the restaurant, I'd accompany it with a few beautiful (and expensive) California Medjools on the side. The dates kept coming back uneaten. People just didn't get the idea of savory soup and sweet dates, which drove me nuts. So I thought of a way to work the dates into the soup, rolling them into little balls and adding them as a garnish. People get it now. The date balls are never left uneaten. They're a part of the bigger idea, as they should be. This makes a big batch. That's how I always do it, even at home, because we love to eat it over several nights, and it keeps for up to a week.

In Morocco every meal is a special occasion, and almond-paste sweets are always part of the menu. M'hanncha (snake) is made from rolled phyllo pastry coiled to look like a serpent. The orange-flower water and cinnamon flavorings are very North African, revealing the Persian influences in the region.