A delicious Moroccan dish of the distinctively smoky, tangy and spicy flavours of harissa, lemon and vegetables that can be the perfect vegan meal, great with meat or chicken, or accommodate the needs of all of the above in one sitting.
Harissa, are you better? Are you well, well, well...?
This dish is based on the recipe a Moroccan friend's mother taught me many years ago, though I've adapted it somewhat since then. This dish would often be describe as a "tagine". The only reason I call it a hotpot is because it's not cooked in a tagine. I love tagine cooking—and there's no reason this can't be cooked in a tagine—but one of the reasons the dish has always stuck with me was the character of the funny woman who first taught it to me.
She was a busy person with a demanding job in one of London's local authorities. In her kitchen, she pulled me in conspiratorially and told me that she occasionally cooked it in a tagine, when she had time or when her fussy sister-in-law was around, but, "No!" she said, holding up both hands. "Cook it in a pot! It's so much easier."
When she taught it to me, you either had to go to special stores or make the harissa yourself. These days, harissa paste is available in many supermarkets and, having tested various versions of it, it works just as well. Just make sure that the one you buy contains a generous amount of smoked paprika—what the Spanish call pimentón—to really get the lovely smoky notes that should come through.
I still tend to make my own harissa in larger quantities and keep it in the fridge (or freeze it) and use it as desired or, in the case of this dish, make it in situ, though you'll end up with more than you need for one meal.
The original uses the method of browning the chicken in the pot, removing it, then re-adding to the pot, as do many Asian and Middle Eastern dishes. I favour pre-preparing the chicken separately first, mainly because you can cook the base sauce in larger quantities and later add your preferred protein, whether animal or vegetable, as the mood takes you.
Chilli out
Some people bang on about harissa demanding dried Tunisian Nabeul and Gabès chillies. Others demand that you use Guajillo chillies because they are "the closest thing to authentic". Frankly, getting snooty about something "the closest to authentic" is a bit like boasting about your state room on a ship that has already sailed.
The story takes an even more amusing turn because food historians think the chillies were brought to North Africa by Spanish occupiers in the 15th and 16th centuries and that, in fact, the varieties they brought with them might not actually have been cultivated by the Moors during the some 800 years they occupied the Iberian Peninsula.
Indeed, the whole idea of the chilli as having originated in the Middle East is a bit of a popular assumption. India had no chillies until the Portuguese took them there—imagine!—and some the chilli varieties beloved of the Spanish, Southern Italy, Turkey and the Levant all seem to have been the result of Mediterranean trade after the colonisers from the Iberian Peninsula brought them back to Europe from Latin America. Some traditions are simply not as old as they seem. Ho hum.
I've used all of the above chilli varieties as well as dried Turkish, Indian and African red chillies and I can't say I've ever noticed a negative outcome. As long as they are dried, red, fairly large and pack a punch, you'll be fine.
These things are all relative, but it's fair to warn you this recipe is fairly spicy. On those dodgy menus in cheap restaurants that show spiciness by the pictorial number of chilies, this is a 3 (out of 4 chillies); 2.5 at least. Pare back on the chillies and pimentón if you don't like it when it burns a bit.
This recipe serves 3 to 4 diners, depending on how much you like chicken. Scale up or down as needed.
Please note that the photos are taken from a range of occasions on which I have cooked this dish, so they don't necessarily reflect the quantities in the recipe.
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Shopping list
for the harissa paste
2½ tspn coriander seeds
2½ tspn caraway seeds
2½ tspn cumin seeds
2 large dried red chillies (see above)
1 heaped tspn pimentón (smoked paprika)
5 fresh red chillies, deseeded
Approx. 1 tbspn dates; from a pitted and pressed "block" (optional)
a generous clutch of fresh coriander
6 cloves of garlic, chopped
2 tbspns concentrated tomato purée
the juice and zest of 1 fresh lemon
2 chipotle chillies or 1 tspn of chipotle paste (optional)
Approx. 125ml olive oil
for the Moroccan smoky harissa hotpot
1 large red bell pepper ; de-seeded and cut into slices
2 onions, diced
5 cloves of smoked garlic, (or fresh garlic) very finely diced
1 tin 400g peeled plum tomatoes in their juice
1 tin 400g of chickpeas (or equivalent cooked, drained and cooled)
3 to 4 carrots, peeled and cut into irregular slices
2 fresh lemons
A generous clutch of fresh flat leaf parsley, chopped
Vegetable, rapeseed or olive oil; about 3 to 4 tbspns; enough to coat the base of your cooking pan/pot.
Chicken stock; (or vegetable stock) fresh, cube or jelly as 500ml liquid
A pinch of salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
1 to 2 sections of chicken per diner (such as thighs or breasts); skin on
2 tspns of turmeric (for seasoning the chicken)
Cous cous or flatbreads , as an accompaniment
2 tspns cornflour (if needed)
8 pitted dried apricots (optional; see 'Alternatives' section below)
for the side dishes
Couscous or flatbreads , as an accompaniment
A fresh salad with orange and mint dressing (optional)
Cooking Method
the harissa paste
Make the harissa first. Do this directly before starting the main dish or days before and store, sealed in the fridge until needed. You can also freeze any excess. Defrost fully before using later
Toast the seeds—coriander, cumin and caraway—in a dry pan. When toasted, roughly grind using a pestle and mortar or spice grinder
Soak the dried chillies in a bowl, barely covering with boiling water. Once they've somewhat rehydrated, remove the seeds and break into pieces
To a food processor or suitable bowl, add all of the ingredients and the dates and blend (using a hand-held blender if easier) until a thick, rough paste. Use a little of the water in which you soaked the chillies to aid achieving the right consistency. The chipotle is a great addition, particularly if you love deeper, smokier flavours. But, as long as you add the pimentón, this smoky note will still come through, hence optional
the Moroccan smoky harissa hotpot
Place the chicken sections in an oven-proof dish, skin-side down. Using clean fingers, massage about ⅓ of the finely chopped smoked garlic into the chicken. Season all with a little salt, pepper and a liberal sprinkling of turmeric. Add a very fine layer of olive oil using a pastry brush or spray. Cook in a preheated oven—at 250°C for about 15 to 20 mins (or better still, in a halogen oven at 225°C for approx. 10 to 12 mins)
Turn the chicken, skin-side up and sprinkle the skin with a little more turmeric. Baste/spritz with olive oil and cook for a further 15 to 20 mins (less if using a halogen oven). The chicken should be roughly ¾ cooked, ensuring the skin shows some signs of browning. You can do this immediately before cooking the dish or some time before. In the case of the latter, keep covered and allow to rest until you cook the main dish, ideally before the chicken requires refrigeration
Add 4 to 5 tbspns of the oil of choice to a large saucepan with a lid and heat on a medium-high heat. Add the onions and sauté for 5 to 6mins. Add the remainder of the smoked garlic, stirring to prevent sticking. Allow it to turn slightly golden, then deglaze with a dash of the stock Reduce the heat to medium, cover and sweat for 5mins or so
Add the bell pepper slices and stir. Cover and sweat for a further 5 mins. Only when the red peppers show signs of softening add the juice and pulp of the lemon. Cook for a minute or so
Add ⅓ of the harissa paste if using the one made above (a little less if using a concentrated store-bought version). Stir, allowing the spices to release their scent
Add the squeezed out remainders of the lemon or slices of lemon and stir in. Cook for about 2mins
Add the peeled tomatoes and their juice and stir into the ingredients with a healthy dash of the stock. Increase the heat if needed and boil for 4 to 5mins
Add the sliced carrots and gently stir in. Add the clutch of flat leaf parsley and a the rest of the stock. Bring to the boil and allow it to to cook quite vigorously for about 2mins. Then cover and simmer on a low heat for at least 15 mins, stirring occasionally
Add the chickpeas and simmer for a further 5 mins and another heaped tspn of your harissa paste (less if using store-bought) and stir in.
Gently add the chicken sections to the pot. Squeeze the remaining lemon juice over the chicken. Re-cover and simmer for a further 10 mins
If, by this time, the liquid has not yet thickened suitably, gently stir in the sifted corn flour, one teaspoon at a time, to achieve the desired consistency. NB: it is actually better to wait until the contents of the pot are not too "wet" before adding the chicken and not using the cornflour. Once the chicken is fully cooked and the contents suitably reduced, cover the pot, turn off the heat and rest before serving
Meanwhile, prepare your couscous or flatbreads. You can also remove the lemon slices at this point—personally I love the flavour of the stewed lemon rind so always leave the detritus of the lemon slices in the dish.
The take to table. Bon Appétit!
Alternatives
Vegetarian and vegans: until you add the chicken, this is essentially a vegan dish. My personal favourite alternatives to the chicken are to substitute it with large whole mushrooms—such as Portobello mushrooms—or chunky pieces of aubergine. Roast these in exactly the same way as you would the chicken, seasoned with salt, black pepper and turmeric and spritzed/basted with olive oil. Obviously, this will take a little quicker and you should also add them slightly later in the cooking process, only about 10 mins before serving.
I personally avoid adding the apricots to the chicken version only because the dish is sweet enough already, especially if using butternut squash instead of chickpeas. However, there is something about the earthier flavours of large mushrooms and the almost bitter notes of aubergine that make the apricots work very well in the veggie/vegan version. Add them with the large veggies about 15 mins before serving.
Pescatarians: There are various pescatarian versions that almost make the chicken seem sad and insignificant. They include calamari and octopus. In the case of the former, I used whole "tubes" rather than calamari "rings"; in the case of the latter, large round slices from the upper end of the tentacles. In both cases, I roasted them in exactly in the same manner as the chicken—though for a shorter period of time—but with the addition of fresh lemon juice drizzled over the top before par-roasting. Both cook quicker than chicken, but slower than veggies—just keep an eye on the oven.
By far my absolute favourite—as well as the most decadent and messy—version of all is to add a generous number of pre-cooked langoustine in their shells about 5mins before plating. Delicious bliss with finger bowls and a slow dinner.
If you're going for a 100% pescatarian version, use fish stock (or vegetable stock) in lieu of chicken stock.
Carnivores: the default setting for this dish is chicken as in the recipe above. But, if you would like to do a slightly reduced fat version (or without the fuss of chicken on the bone), you can use bite-sized pieces of skinless thigh or breast. Rather than roasting as in the recipe above, brown them in a pan with the same ingredients used to roast the chicken above in a little oil. Then add these pieces back into the mix to finish cooking at the appropriate point. Use a separate frying pan if cooking for mixed dietary requirements. But, if you have no vegans or vegetarians at the table, brown them in the same pot in which you cook the hotpot.
It also works incredibly well with cubed lamb or "lamb trim". If using, ensure that the meat is thoroughly browned and then place to one side. Ensure that the browned lamb is returned to the pot far earlier—at lest 20mins before serving—so that it is fully cooked before taking to table. Of course, you can brown the lamb in a separate pan, but I personally only ever do the lamb version if everyone dining eats meat: browning it in the same pot in which you cook the hotpot and cooking those juices in proves sublime. You can still use chicken stock—not uncommon to use the two flavours together in many places—but I think using vegetable stock is actually better.
Pairings
My preferred tipples with this one is iced mint tea or a medium-bodied red—even with the chicken version—but I really want Karel to rise to the occasion for this one because I simply know he'll pull something out of the bag to blow us away.
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