Experimenting with TAJINES!

     Want to see my tajine? I pretty much asked every single person this question on Sunday at work. (And most people said yes!)

     It wasn't an entirely inappropriate request. I had just bought this traditional Moroccan pot across the street at Sur La Table, and was hella excited about it. Not only because it was 20 percent off - making it  appx. $14 - but also because I'd been eyeing it for months. I don't want to seem like a trend slave/hack, but the foreign flavors of Morocco are the new it-thing: a slew of cookbooks inspired by Michelin-starred restaurants like Aziza have thrust Morocco to the forefront of Bay Area fashion stuff. 

I bought most of my ingredients from Marwa
Halal (pictured) and Oasis on Telegraph and 30th. This
neighborhood hosts a variety of Middle Eastern and
Ethiopian markets.  

     Blah. I'll never have enough money to eat at Aziza, and unfortunately there's only one Moroccan place that I know of in Oakland/Berkeley, but I'm scared to go in because it's in Temescal and it's always empty. (Can anyone tell me if it's good?) But I have eaten one of the best meals of my life at a place called Aicha on Polk Street. The North African juxtaposition of sweet and savory - lamb with prunes, chicken baklava with honey and cinnamon - makes me swoon. 

     The tajine is the symbol of all this greatness. And although it's technically Tunisian (seriously if someone would pay me to go around Tunisia and write a cookbook for someone or other, I would be so indebted to you, and you could feel good about yourself too because you brought that cuisine to the world, so hit me up) its simple but ingenious shape creates the characteristic rich, viscous sauces and silken soft meats that Morocco is known for. The high, conical lid allows air and steam to flow through the pot, moistening the meat and thickening the sauce on the bottom. And depending on whether you buy a glazed or unglazed pot, the earthenware can give your dishes a rustic flavor. 

      It's all a little intimidating, but I'm convinced that once you get the technique down, it's extremely easy to create Moroccan masterpieces with minimal effort. With the perfect stove-temp, cook-time and amount of water, all you need to do is set the ingredients in and let them transform. 

      Honestly, my first attempt was mixed. After several failures obtaining ingredients at the market, I went without a set recipe, and managed to achieve an amazing sweet prune cardamom sauce. But the lamb was a little tough for how long I cooked it, and I'm scratching my head as to why. 

     This was my combo off the bat: A couple pounds of lamb shoulder, cut into medium chunks and rubbed with a mixture of salt and ground garlic. I also threw in cardamom, fresh ginger, cinnamon, black pepper, sliced onions and a few prunes I had sitting in the cabinet. Instead of searing the meat first, I simply melted some butter on the bottom of the pan and then added olive oil and then my stuff. In traditional Moroccan food, the meat is not seared first, but placed in with the sauce so that they exist in harmony.

     This picture, taken after about 45 minutes of medium-low cooking, shows what I may have done wrong. When I started out before I put the lid on, I decided to add some water to make everything moister. I think I may have added too much, despite the INCREDIBLE smell of garlic butter and hearty meat emanating from the pot, my dish had turned into a stew. I thus had to remove the lid for a half an hour so that the water would evaporate. (It also started a vicious cycle of putting the lid on, taking it off again, etc.) This could have disturbed the natural cooking process.

     This is what it looked like after about 1 and a half, two hours. Ready to go! The water had thickened to a beautiful complex sauce, with luscious plumps of rich prune and hearty onions. We dipped pieces of fresh pita bread from Oasis Food Market, and dolloped Greek yogurt on the top. We also made some couscous on the side. Not 100 percent authentic (what is authenticity anyway, not to be all serious and crap) but really great for a first try. If you decide to give it a go, make sure you soak your tajine in water overnight before you use it. And although I didn't, try to follow these care instructions. Be safe! Your tajine will thank you...