a feast to feed an army and lucky chicken no. 7

It doesn’t seem quite right to be talking about chicken during Eid but I often fail to get things quite right and I think I’d better get this recipe down before I forget it.

as usual: lots going on

I picked up this recipe last week in Morocco, but it’s hard to believe I’d never jotted it down before. I’d like to call it something like Jama3iyya Chicken* because it’s a recipe I’ve seen most at large meetings, trainings, or visits in the spaces of Moroccan community associations (jama3iyyat). It’s similar to your Moroccan chicken tagine, but pared down a bit, so if you have to cook for 40 people, and not in a fancy-wedding kind of way but in a working-lunch kind of way, you can do it and still serve your chicken in a tasty zesty sauce.

sweet moroccan carrot salad

A simple and healthy salad, this is the perfect complement to a more traditional savory salad – not only does the texture and sweet taste provide a nice contrast to a veggie salad with vinaigrette, but the colors make a nice foil too – having colors that contrast well is a nice way to spice up the look of your table and carrots are a great way to do it.

eat it up

The recipe is very simple, too, obeying the rule that the best recipes are often those with fewer than five ingredients…

souss valley cornucopia

There is much to share in the way of culinary ventures from my trip last week to Morocco, including a few new recipes. For now, some highlights:

lunch with the ladies; chicken recipe forthcoming

brochettes spiced with cumin and cooked over coals

al-ruman

tunnirt + tamment + zit blady = souss valley breakfast

some photos

from michigan, ohio, pennsylvania

freedom smells like a mustang convertible and moroccan leather. until one of these items runs over the other one, at which point it just smells hilarious

longitudinal and blue

where the sidewalk bends

Foamhenge: The Greatest Tourist Trap You’ve Never Seen

FOAMHENGE

Traveling northwards through Virginia on I-81, we noticed a series of billboards advertising the Virginia Natural Bridge. It rang a distant bell in my memory, but I wasn’t sure if I’d been there as a child, or if I’d just been told stories about it as a child, or if it was all a dream.

In any case, it only took us an enticing billboard and a half to realize that the Natural Bridge really was something not to be missed. For one thing, it has the distinction of being located on US Route 11 (actually, technically, it’s directly under US Route 11), otherwise known as the Robert E Lee Highway south of the Mason-Dixon line and the Molly Pitcher Highway north of the Mason-Dixon line. I find this to be nothing short of remarkable: not only did the US produce two people as different and noteworthy as Robert E Lee and Molly Pitcher; it manages, to this day, to eternalize the memory of both in a single highway. And not just any highway, but one that passes right over a natural landmark once surveyed by George Washington, owned by King George III, and bought by Thomas Jefferson.

I mean seriously. I put it to any other nation on earth to assemble such a cavalcade of personages within a single geographic reality.

But I digress: the point is, there is something even better about the road to the Virginia Natural Bridge than all that, and that is all the tourist traps one passes on the way to visit it. The greatest of these harks back to something older and greater than George Washington, Bobby Lee and Molly Pitcher put together: Stonehenge. Who knew we had a to-scale replica of the most famous stone monument of England’s Salisbury plains and a life-size model of the central joke of the funniest and greatest scene in the movie This is Spinal Tap? The fact is that we do.

And it’s made of foam.

Sadly it was closed to the public the day we drove by so all we were able to do was to stare and marvel and photograph it from afar, our jaws agape with wonder at its existence.

I think you’ll agree that the best part is the sign.

across the mediterranean: tuscan food & wine

I’m writing this post from an altogether different place: an olive grove in Tuscany, in the heart of Italy’s Chianti wine region…the olive oil here is almost as good as the bladi olive oil in Morocco. It’s a little less earthy and with a little more of a kick to it…

whereabouts

I’ve been reading up on my Italian cuisine with the help of one Waverly Root, whose encyclopedic work, Foods of Italy, goes region by region and (and sub-region by sub-region), listing the specialties, manners, agriculture, and history of Italian food. And I was tickled (though not that surprised) to read that Italian cooking has been influenced by Arab cuisine for centuries – thanks to factors ranging from conquest to commerce to the Crusades. Of course it makes sense that Italy and Morocco should share culinary influences (since they share climates and so many basic ingredients), but it’s comforting to think of all the same.

Internet is limited here, though, so I’ll just go ahead and list the dishes I’ve sampled so far:

Baked pecorino cheese (made from ewe’s milk) with honey and walnuts
Parmaggiano aubergine pie
Green gnocchi with gorgonzola sauce
Ravioli stuffed with clams and fresh fish
Octopus served on potatoes with tomatoes and a tomato & basil sauce
Gnocchi with artichokes and prawns
Turkey rolled with ricotta, sausage, and zucchini
Pecorino cheese served with sweet onion jam
Ravioli stuffed with asparagus served with carrots and zucchini

seafood in cinqueterre

Needless to say, everything is seasonal, fresh, and delicious. And served with local wines (which are always, always good…). My favorite touch so far was the presentation and service in a little seafood place in Cinqueterre, where all the food was brought out in its pans and baking dishes to the table and then plated beautifully in front of us. This place really is a feast for the senses…

prettiest octopus you have ever seen

road trip by the numbers

on the road in western michigan

Days it took to travel from Charlotte, NC to Monroe, Michigan: 14

Days it took to travel from Monroe, MI to Charlotte, NC: 1

Dead deer seen on the side of the road on trip from Monroe to Charlotte: 6

Percentage of trip from Monroe to Charlotte spent on I-77: 80

Number of times the Moroccan dish chicken rafisa was made on the road trip: 4

States visited in two months of traveling: 9

Countries visited in two months of traveling: 2

Number of community theater/student productions seen: 3

Number of professional theater/music/dance productions seen: 4

Museums and galleries visited: Too many to count

Number of vineyards visited: 5

Magnitude of shock and awe and disappointment at the American people for voting Siobhan off American Idol: immeasurable (seriously, we go to Canada for a DAY and this is what happens??)

roadside glass sculpture in honor of siobhan. we will buy your records, ms. magnus!

best barbeque in nc/sc/va

…is at the Three Lil Pigs in Daleville, VA, outside of Roanoke.

oink

You can see for yourself; it was so good that we didn’t even have time to take a photograph before we ate it all:

yummy

what’s the difference between a symphony in detroit and a symphony anywhere else?

…it turns out the answer is the Ford Motor Company.

Last night I went to see the Detroit Symphony Orchestra perform, and there was a large car in the lobby. Also a Ford representative spoke beforehand about the company’s long-time sponsorship of the symphony. Oh and the drive to the hall included a trip through an industrial complex so enormous it reminded me of an industrial Lord of the Rings landscape (like there were factory smokestacks spewing fiery fumes and stuff…it was intense).

In short, Detroit is crazy, and their symphony is crazy good.

The program started off with two pieces by Richard Strauss. The first was a Serenade for Wind Instruments, which was lovely. It was composed when Strauss was only 16 years old, so it’s among the more traditional or even conservative of his compositions – full of perfectly woven, lushly Romantic harmonies. Next was a more familiar piece, the tone poem Tod und Verklärung - Death and Transfiguration. Strauss was a student of philosophy and it shows – his best moments feel like they contain all the wisdom and brilliance of Schopenhauer and Nietzsche with about a millions times the transcendence. Strauss is no easy feat for an orchestra but watching this performance was like being transported somewhere else.

The program closed with a performance of Mozart’s Requiem, the composer’s final work, complete with a full chorus and four solo vocalists. It was beautifully performed as well, though I feel like in any requiem nothing is ever quite as exciting as the “Day of Wrath” section, which happens kind of early on.

It was the first time in a long time that I’d been to a performance like this, and it was one of the most cathartic experiences I’ve had since returning from Morocco. It’s amazing to me what people can do together; amazing to see a hundred highly trained artists so highly attuned to one another, and amazing to see hundreds and hundreds of people gathering simply to hear them play. So many people crammed into one room, and all quietly focused on one thing at a time. It’s not your typical everyday American experience, and yet it happens every day in America. It was a reminder of many of the things I missed while I was abroad – parts of myself and parts of my culture – and in many ways it made me feel like last night, for the first time in a long long time, I was home.

The drive home through the rain, past that menacing industrial smokestack (which was still spouting fire), was a reminder of the things we have in common: that in a city as new and foreign and strange to me as any, in a corner of our country I am just getting to know, there are more than enough chances to celebrate humanity in profound ways. And that is a comforting thought.

somewhere in pittsburgh

First things first: Pittsburgh is a great city, and not just because that kid in Weeds said so.

skyline late in the day

It boasts three rivers and lots of sweet bridges:

bridges bridges everywhere

The best part might be the following gem, however, tucked away in a nondescript corner of one of the city’s many distinctive, hilly neighborhoods:

yep that's right

...one of many

hanging out

you can almost hear the choir