Passport & Plate - Moroccan Tfaya Couscous
Morocco | Friday, March 6, 2015 | 5 photos
Ingredients
Vegetables:
- 2 portobello mushrooms (thinly cut)
- 16 oz baby portobello mushrooms (quartered)
tomato (quartered)
- 2 potatoes (peeled and quartered)
- 2 turnips (peeled and quartered)
- 4 carrots (peeled, cut in half, and quartered)
- 1 onion (diced)
- 1 bunch cilantro (roughly chopped)
- 1 bunch parsley (roughly chopped)
- 1 zucchini (cut in half and quartered)
- 1 large can chickpeas (29oz) or 2 cups dried chickpeas (rinsed and peeled)
- 3 tbsp olive oil
- 2 tsp Ras El Hanout (traditional Moroccan spice blend)
- ½ tsp salt
- ½ tsp pepper
- 1 tsp ginger powder
- ¼ tsp turmeric powder
- large pinch of saffron
Tfaya (Caramelized Onions):
- 2 lbs onions (cut in half and sliced thinly)
- ½ cup of raisins
- 2 tbsp butter
- ¼ cup sugar
- 1 tbsp water
- 1 tsp salt
- ¼ tsp black pepper
- 1 tsp ginger powder
- ¼ tsp turmeric powder
- ½ tbsp ground cinnamon
Couscous:
- 2 cups dried couscous
- 2 tsp of olive oil
- ½ tsp of salt
- 1 tbsp butter
- 1 cup water
How to prepare this recipePrepare the Tfaya:
1. Soak the raisins in hot water and set aside for 30 minutes.
2. Add cut onions and 2 tbsp of butter, and spices to a large pot.
3. Pour 1 tbsp water over the mixture and stir.
4. Cover and cook on medium-low heat for 45 mins, stirring occasionally.
5. Drain the raisins and add to the onions, along with the ¼ cup of sugar.
6. Mix well and continue cooking on medium-low heat, stirring occasionally, until completely caramelized, which takes around 20 mins. Set aside.
Prepare the Vegetables and Steam the Couscous:
1. You should use a couscoussier—a traditional Moroccan couscous pot—for this recipe, but you can also cook the couscous separately.
2. Place the mushrooms, tomato, onion, olive oil, and spices in the bottom of the couscoussier. Cover and cook on medium heat for 8 mins.
3. Add the cilantro, parsley, potatoes, carrots, and turnips. Add 2 cups of water and continue to cook on medium heat for 40 mins or until vegetables are tender.
4. While the vegetables cook, prepare the couscous.
5. In a large bowl, mix the couscous with the olive oil and water.
6. Add couscous to the top section of the couscoussier and place on top of the section that contains the vegetables. Cover and cook until you seem steam coming up from the couscous (about 10 mins).
7. Remove the couscous, return to bowl, and let cool.
8. Add the zucchini and chickpeas to the other vegetables cooking.
9. Once cool, add salt and ½ cup of water to couscous. Stir with hands and return to the top section of couscoussier. Repeat couscous steaming.
10. Remove the couscous, return to bowl, and let cool.
11. If couscous is not cooked, repeat steaming. If cooked, let couscous cool and stir in butter with hands.
12. Serve by setting the couscous a large, shallow bowl. Push to the edges and add the vegetables to the center of the bowl. Top with tfaya and sprinkle with Ras El Hanout. Serve with thick, warm bread.
The story behind this recipeNo one is exactly sure where the tradition of couscous served after Friday prayer in Morocco originates, but it's as predictable as the call to prayer.
I’ll never forget my first smell of Moroccan Tfaya Couscous—one of the two most typical types of couscous traditionally prepared on Fridays. Sweet tfaya (caramelized onions) prepared with vegetables in a rich broth over a bed of couscous, with the light scent of exotic saffron. It is a complicated and time consuming dish to make from scratch. I was fortunate to have a Moroccan woman cook for me and my roommates while we studied at a local University. She didn't speak English, French, or much Standard Arabic. She spoke the local dialect and understood hello and goodbye; we understood each other with shakes of the head and smiles.
On the last Friday before I was scheduled to return home to America, I walked into the kitchen just as she had begun preparing couscous for the day. I couldn't leave without knowing the recipe to this dish that had become an irresistible staple, a weekly tradition, over the past four months. I showed her my notebook, feigned a writing motion, and she nodded.
The next few hours observing was an experience I will never forget. The entire recipe was in her head—the recipe had likely been passed down for generations. She poured half a kettle of water here, a dash of spice there, and cut onions so efficiently and ferociously that I had to step out of the room to clear my eyes. Along the way, she encouraged me to smell and taste.
Although we could not understand one another, we shared a different level of communication that morning. For the first time, I felt as though there was no barrier, only understanding.
To me, that's the power of food, the power of sharing traditions. It allows us to break barriers that before seemed unimaginable.
