Naturally, one turns to Claudia Roden for guidance on all things tagine. Her intimate knowledge of Moroccan cuisine leaves us in generous, well-seasoned hands. From Arabesque to The New Book of Middle Eastern Food, we’re transported across a diverse terrain of flavor, tradition and culture. Of the tagine, she shares, 'I love the sharp, lemony flavors and the enticing aroma of mingled garlic, turmeric and ginger. These are the same smells that waft over the nightly food stalls in Djemaa el-Fna – the great square in Marrakesh which, during the day, is taken over by Berber musicians, storytellers, comedians, fire eaters and snake charmers.'
A ceramic tagine is not just a pot, but a vessel of scent and memory. Conical and earth-colored, it sits on the stove like a relic from an older world, quietly transforming humble ingredients into something layered, luscious, and deeply forgiving. The shape is not merely aesthetic, but allows steam to rise, condense and return, saving precious moisture — critical in desert environments. Its origins lie with the Berbers of North Africa, nomadic and ingenious, who understood how to coax flavor from scarcity. A little meat, a handful of olives, a lemon dried by the sun and spices; cumin, cinnamon, saffron, drifting through the air like a prayer. Over the centuries, the tagine has woven the stories of the Arabs, Andalusians and Ottomans melding their influences into its very essence. Even now, in the kitchens of Fez or Marrakech, it remains a vessel for more than sustenance, it’s both ritual and welcome and an inheritance passed from hand to hand.
Lift the lid and you release a cloud of saffroned steam, the sweetness of fruit nudging up against the savory heft of meat, the brightness of herbs softened by the warmth of earth. It’s a dish that carries its history with grace, and offers, in return, a moment of pause and a reminder that some of the most exquisite pleasures are the ones that take their time.
Tagine is saucy and garlicky, rich with the bracing glow of preserved lemon and meltingly soft olives. One of the truly great dishes of Morocco and simple to prepare, it’s perfect for entertaining. Serve with fluffy, fragrant couscous. Based on an original recipe by Claudia Roden. Serves 8.
Ingredients
- Juice of 2 lemons
- 6 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil
- 11/2 tsp ground turmeric
- 1 1/2 tsp ground ginger
- 1/4 teaspoons saffron threads, crushed
- 1 cinnamon stick
- 11/2 tbsp honey
- 1 cup dry white wine
- 1 head of garlic, cloves crushed
- Salt and freshly ground black pepper
- 16 chicken thighs
- 8 ounces pitted green olives
- 1 preserved lemon
- 1/2 bunch cilantro, chopped
Directions
- In a large bowl, stir together the lemon juice, olive oil, spices, honey, wine and garlic. Season the chicken with salt and pepper and add to the spice mixture, turning well to coat (if time permits, refrigerate overnight).
- Transfer the contents into the base of a ceramic tagline or baking dish. Remove pulp from the preserved lemon and slice the peel into thin strips. Scatter the olives and preserved lemon on top. Bake for 45 minutes. Sprinkle with freshly chopped cilantro.
