Chicken

Many of the dishes popular in the court kitchens in Constantinople during the Ottoman period spread throughout the empire. This pilaf is one of the classics that you find in all the cities that were once the outposts of the empire. It goes particularly well as an accompaniment to roast chicken and it also often forms a stuffing for the bird.

Bulgur pilaf is an everyday dish in rural Turkey. Bulgur is whole wheat kernels that have been boiled, then dried and ground. In the old days in rural areas, before mechanization, and still today in some parts, it is made collectively. The men harvest the wheat, then the women separate the grain from the chaff. They wash the grain and boil it for hours in huge pots until it splits. It is then dried in the sun, spread out on large sheets laid out on the flat roofs of houses or in the fields. When it is dry and hard, it is taken to be ground in a stone mill. Three types of grind—coarse, medium, and fine—can be found in Middle Eastern stores in this country. The coarse-ground one is the best for pilaf, but the medium-ground one, which is the most widely available, will also do. The amount of bulgur here is quite large and enough for 2 chickens. You can make it in advance and reheat it in the oven before serving.

Sautéed chicken kebabs are more tender and juicy than the grilled ones on skewers, which are served in kebab houses. Accompany these with tomato pilaf and a Cucumber and Yogurt Salad (see page 156). The dark, wine-red spice called sumac (see page 7) lends a sharp lemony taste to the chicken

This is a dish of Georgian origin. Georgia, which borders on northwest Turkey, is famous for its plum trees and plum sauces. Our slightly sour, dark red plums will do well.

Traditionally, the Berbers first made couscous with barley, and barley couscous is still very popular, especially in the south of Morocco. It is now available in precooked form from some Middle Eastern stores. You can substitute ordinary couscous. You can make the broth with lamb, beef, or veal (preferably shoulder, neck fillet, or knuckle) and with a choice of vegetables. According to local lore, seven is a magic number that brings good luck. Onions, tomatoes, and chili peppers count as flavorings, so you must have seven more vegetables. I have listed eight, so drop one. The number of ingredients makes it seem a scary endeavor, but it is only a matter of throwing things into a pot, and it makes a spectacular one-dish meal for a large party. You will need a very big pot.

This specialty of Fez—shaariya medfouna, which means “buried in vermicelli”—is a fabulous surprise dish—a chicken tagine hidden under a mountain of vermicelli. It is a grand festive dish, a kind of trompe l’oeil, as the vermicelli is decorated like a sweet dessert couscous (page 124), with alternating lines of confectioners’ sugar, cinnamon, and chopped fried almonds. It sounds complex, but it is really worth making for a large party. You can leave out the confectioners’ sugar if you think your guests are likely to prefer it without, and instead pass the sugar around in a little bowl for those who would like to try. The vermicelli is traditionally steamed like couscous, but it is easier to boil it. It is more practical to cook the chickens in 2 large pans and to divide the ingredients for the stew between them. In Morocco they also cook pigeons and lamb in the same way.

This is marvelous! I use frozen artichoke bottoms that come from Egypt and are available here in Middle Eastern and Asian stores. You get about 9 in a 14-ounce package and that is enough for 4 servings.

This is the best-known Moroccan chicken dish. It was the only one, apart from appetizers, served during an evening of Arab poetry and storytelling, accompanied by musicians, that I attended in a Paris restaurant. The olives do not have to be pitted. If you find them too salty, soak them in 2 changes of water for up to an hour.

The couscous stuffing is the traditional one used for all birds, especially Mediterranean pigeons (the French pigeonneaux or squabs) and chickens. A generous amount of stuffing is made, enough to fill the chicken and to have some on the side, but it makes more sense not actually to bother stuffing the chicken. It is best to use the fine-ground couscous called seffa (see page 28) but you can use the ordinary medium one.

There are some excellent varieties of vacuum-packed or frozen chestnuts now available, making this dish very easy.

Morocco is a country of dates and there are several varieties. Use 3/4 cup dates of a soft, moist variety such as the Tunisian Deglet Nour or Californian ones that you can find in supermarkets. Remove the stones, replacing each one with a blanched almond.

This is one of the classics of Moroccan cooking and this version, with shallots or baby onions, is sensational. The art is to reduce the sauce at the end until it is rich and caramelized. It is important to taste it in order to get the right balance between sweet and savory.

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.

Chicken wings don’t have to be just chicken wings. This teriyaki glaze is incredibly easy to make and turns a boring concept into something sophisticated.

Really, is there anything better than opening up your fridge to find some beautiful cold fried chicken looking back at you? You glance to the left, you glance to the right. Nobody in sight. You don’t even bother with a plate, maybe just a paper towel. Maybe nothing at all. And then it’s yours, all yours to nibble at until you’re done and licking your fingers. Oh, yeah, this chicken’s also great for picnics (if there is any left over). Maintaining even oil temperature is key. That way the crust doesn’t balloon away from the skin but becomes part of it. You’ll need an electric fryer with a built-in thermometer, or use a clip-on deep-fry thermometer and a deep-sided skillet.

In translation, arroz con pollo simply means “rice with chicken.” When I was the chef at Cafeteria, the Latin American cooks made this dish for our staff meal just about every day. Its truly authentic flavors are homey and satisfying. I prefer using whole canned tomatoes and crushing them by hand because I have more control of the texture; plus the flavor is a lot better than chopped canned tomatoes.

Chicken Cacciatore is a dish that time has forgotten. It’s simple, rustic, and truly Italian, and my buddy Frankie DeCarlo likes it, too. I would serve this with Soft Polenta (page 244). If cutting up a chicken intimidates you, buy precut pieces or have the guy at the meat counter do it for you—that’s his job, right?