28 September 2011

travel through food; or why I feel the need to make faux Moroccan chicken

even when the weather is warm, September always feels like a return to school. After twelve years of regular school, three years at college, and a final year of post-graduate labor, not returning to the hallowed halls of institutional learning in the fall feels sort of funny. In that way, I sort of envy my teacher friends who still work on that school schedule. However, that doesn't mean that learning doesn't still happen. Sometimes the best learning comes from combining thoughts and tastes and memories in ways that never happened in school.

All too often, I do that by daydreaming about travel and end up thinking of history and wind up cooking a meal that reminds me of both. I have this fabulous cookbook that covers an overview of all Mediterranean cooking, from Spain, France, Italy, Greece, Turkey, to Egypt,  Libya, Algeria, and Morocco. Thinking of the latter few made me think of the legendary British expeditions through the desert. I was safely ensconced in happy little daydreams of T.E. Lawrence and travel across the desert when a couple of girlfriends asked to come over for supper.

It was cool day that just begged for braising and red wine and warm spices. However, we also attempt to be somewhat health conscious, so it's always a bit of madness to put as many veggies as possible in each meal we make for each other. So, armed with my cookbook, which is filled with recipes that involved ingredients that I do not stock in my pantry, a certain amount of time to play, and delusions of camel caravans under vast blankets of stars and roasted lamb, I set to work.

Vaguely Moroccan Braised Chicken
This isn't so much a recipe as a guideline for cooking an approximation of my delicious dish.
Lentils, dried
1 can stewed tomatoes (or 2 medium tomatoes, diced)
1 red bell pepper, chopped
chicken, amount necessary for number being served (thighs would be excellent, though I used breast pieces; also excellent would be lamb or rabbit)
1 tablespoon ground cumin
1 tablespoon ground cinnamon
copious amounts of red wine, your preference
3 cloves garlic, smashed
1-2 cups baby Portabella mushrooms
4 green, or spring onions, chopped

Essentially, I layered the above list in a baking tureen. First, cover the chicken in the ground spices (feel free to add more or less to taste and to cover the amount of meat being used). Then, begin layering in the (sprayed with non-stick spray) baking dish. Start with the lentils, then the tomatoes, pepper, and chicken. Pour in enough hearty red wine to cover the ingredients, then distribute the mushrooms and garlic evenly. Add more wine, if necessary, to bring it to the top of the lip of the dish, then sprinkle the green onions over everything. Place the lid on top and shove into the oven (at 375 degrees) for an hour, then remove the lid and increase the temperature to 425 degrees until the liquid has reduced. If the lentils are taking longer to cook, add more liquid or put the lid back on. Serve with couscous or any side dishes of your choosing.

So, set off on your own adventure through food, daydream, or just a good, old-fashioned storybook. I'll be dressing like some sort of luxury adventurer whilst remaining right at home in the woods of PA.


"Be well. Do good work. Keep in touch." - Garrison Keillor

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