Harissa and Yogurt Chicken with Persian-spiced Pilaf

Sometimes you’re in the mood for Indian food or Italian food or Chinese food. The other day, I was in the mood for Donna Hay food. I’m not sure that even makes sense to me, but I’ll attempt to explain it. Donna Hay recipes are always full of interesting flavors, and the preparations are never too fussy. That was the kind of meal I wanted to make for dinner. In her book, Off the Shelf, there’s a dish called Persian-spiced pilaf with harissa-seared beef, and there’s another one called harissa and yogurt baked chicken. I swapped the chicken for the beef, and that was my dinner plan. You can buy harissa in a jar, but I almost always seem to have some that I’ve made in the refrigerator. I started making it a couple of years ago and figured out it’s a perfect condiment for baked sweet potato fries which is why I usually have some on hand. I make the version from Sunday Suppers at Lucques, and it’s smoky and just spicy enough. So, the chicken was marinated in a mixture of yogurt, harissa, cumin, and mint, and that was sure to be a good thing. The Persian-spiced pilaf brought cinnamon, cardamom, and saffron to the meal, and the spice aromas filled the kitchen and lingered through the house.

Although this recipe doesn’t require the chicken to be marinated in advance, I always feel like chicken for any dish should be seasoned several hours or the day before cooking. But, I forgot this time. I mixed the marinade as suggested with cornstarch, yogurt, harissa, shredded mint, and cumin, and spread it over the chicken pieces. It sat while the oven pre-heated. There was no need to worry since these were big flavors, and they found their way into the chicken without any problems. As the chicken roasted, the pilaf was made with basmati rice steamed in vegetable stock with a cinnamon stick, three green cardamom pods, and a pinch of saffron. You know you’re in for a good meal when it smells as good as this one did as it cooked.

This delivered exactly what I was craving both in terms of preparing it and eating it. The yogurt kept the chicken tender, the spices worked their magic, and my work in making the meal mostly involved sitting down with a book while the chicken roasted and the rice steamed. And, when are you not in the mood for a meal like that?

The Ultimate Winter Couscous

I had a couple of little butternut squashes that I’d been neglecting, and a turnip collection sat hopeful but lonely in the vegetable bin. It was time to find a good winter dish where they’d be put to use. That didn’t take long once I grabbed my copy of Plenty. The recipe really is called the ultimate winter couscous, but I don’t think that means you have to stick to it too precisely. You could use any type of winter squash, and turnips weren’t even mentioned in the ingredient list, but I was sure they’d be fine. What was in that list was carrots, parsnips, shallots, dried apricots, chickpeas, chopped preserved lemon, harissa, and lots of spices. The vegetables were to be roasted until tender and sweet, and I could imagine the smell of the spices filling the kitchen before the oven was even warmed. I think this is the ultimate winter dish because it really couldn’t go wrong. It was full of warm spice flavors, sweet roasted charm, and perky acidity and heat.

First, big chunks of all the vegetables needed to be roasted, and I used carrots, parsnips, turnips, and butternut squash. Shallots were added to the roasting pan along with cinnamon sticks, star anise, bay leaves, ground ginger, ground turmeric, hot paprika, chile flakes, olive oil, and salt. After roasting for a bit, chopped dried apricots, chickpeas, and a little water were added to the pan. Just before the vegetables were ready, couscous was added to boiling water with saffron and olive oil. After the couscous had absorbed the water, butter was added, and the couscous was mixed and fluffed. When the roasting pan was removed from the oven, a big spoonful of harissa and some chopped preserved lemon rind were stirred into the vegetables. The couscous was served topped with the roasted vegetables and some chopped cilantro leaves.

This was such a fragrant dish, and it hit on just about every flavor you can name. The preserved lemon added little sparks of brightness here and there while the cilantro brought some fresh herbiness. The flavors of all the vegetables had become sweeter and more intense from roasting, and the spices permeated each bite. This was an ultimate winter dish, and I’ll remember it next time my butternut squash or turnips or parsnips are feeling overlooked.

Saffron Panna Cotta with Rhubarb Marmellata

Last Tuesday, I was reading a post on Cooked Books when I had to stop everything. You see, Rebecca mentioned that there’s a recipe archive on Babbo’s web site. Well, that set off a flurry of clicks, and I couldn’t get my printer flicked on fast enough. Babbo’s recipes are right there, ordered alphabetically, free for all. I don’t know how often the archive is updated or how complete it is or isn’t, but I quickly found several recipes to stack on top of my to-cook pile. The first of those was this panna cotta with rhubarb from Gina DePalma.

Part two of this story is that I had never before in my life cooked rhubarb. I have no excuse either, so it is clearly my Mom’s fault. She never cooked rhubarb that I remember, so I had no history with it at home. I’ve eaten it but never cooked it or had it at home. I had no idea what I was missing. It’s so easy, and it just makes a nice, thick sauce all by itself. And, now there’s sure to be rhubarb in my kitchen each time it’s in season. For this marmellata, it was chopped in one-quarter inch thick slices and cooked until soft with sugar and the scrapings of a vanilla bean. That was allowed to cool. For the panna cotta, gelatin sheets were softened while cream, sugar, lemon zest, and saffron threads were brought to a boil in a saucepan. That was left to steep for 10 minutes before the gelatin sheets were squeezed and added. Once the gelatin dissolved, the mixture was poured through a sieve, milk was added, and this was poured into ramekins. The ramekins were chilled until set.

To serve, the panna cotta was gracefully turned out of the ramekins, and the rhubarb marmellata was spooned on top. In reality, as I plopped the first serving out of its ramekin, it of course fell apart and broke into blobs on the plate. I had to try two more times before getting a photogenic one. All of this meant that we ended up with three desserts on plates for two people, and we didn’t mind that at all. I was feeling very full after dessert but happily so. I really love the unique flavor of saffron and with the lemon zest, the panna cotta was divine. The rhubarb topping which was thickened just enough all on its own, with its sweet and tart character and underlying vanilla, was a perfect match.

Shellfish with Saffron, Tomato, Shallot, and White Wine

Serves two:

1 medium to large shallot finely diced

3 garlic cloves, sliced

3 T olive oil

1 c diced tomato, canned if out of season

1 c white wine such as sauvignon blanc

2 pinches saffron

11 black mussels

11 littleneck clams

8 fresh Gulf shrimp, u20, shelled and deveined

2 T chopped fresh parsley

in a five quart pot, saute shallot and garlic in olive oil over medium heat until fragrant; add tomato, wine, and saffron and bring to a boil; add all shellfish and cover for five minutes; remove shellfish as it is done (mussels may open before clams and shrimp will cook more quickly if closer to the bottom of the pot); place shellfish in two big soup bowls with tomato-wine liquid ladeled over top; garnish with chopped parsley; serve with toasted garlic bread to soak up the delicious saffron tomato broth.

--This was an easy Sunday night shellfish meal. We enjoyed this with whole grain garlic toast and a salad of mixed greens.

*Kurt expressed his delight with this dish without even being asked!