Paula Wolfert’s Lamb Tagine

Wait a minute! Weren’t we here already? Indeed we were, just about a year ago to the day. But the recipes are different–Lamb Tagine With Preserved Lemon hails from Claudia Roden’s marvelous Book Of Middle Eastern Food. Today’s tagine comes from another seminal cookbook, Paula Wolfert’s Couscous And Other Good Food From Morocco.

Fifty years later, Paula Wolfert is losing her memory to a rare kind of Alzheimer’s Disease. It is incumbent on us, her adoring fans, to keep her flame.

So when a good friend and loyal reader, himself a professional writer, appointed himself unpaid proofreader of the IK, catching all manner of spelling errors and worse, I asked how I could thank him.

A recipe utilizing preserved lemons and lamb was requested. What better source than Paula Wolfert, who along with Claudia Roden, brought Moroccan food to English-speaking readers?

Before moving on, let’s discuss these preserved lemons for a moment. These were made in January 2015 from the lemons in my yard. The white stuff in the jar–a technical term–is harmless; Eugenia Bone, writing in Well-Preserved, explains it is “a precipitate of salt, oils, and whatever from the pith.”

Returning to our regularly scheduled post.

It is difficult, if not impossible, to understand the impact of Couscous And Other Good Food From Morocco today. Even readers living in locales where “exotic” ingredients or “foreign” markets are scarce need only an internet hookup and a credit card to get the world delivered to their doorstep.

Not so in 1973. Consider Gael Greene’s introduction to Couscous And Other Good Food From Morocco. Invited to Wolfert’s for dinner, she knew exactly what to bring:

Do I bring flowers? Wine? Bonbons? No, I bring cilantro (green coriander) because fresh cilantro is the badge of our friendship. (She can’t buy it in her neighborhood. I can. A friend would not cross town without cilantro.)

Cilantro, an herb so utterly prosaic today that we don’t give it a second thought, much less require an explanation. Cilantro is pedestrian enough to be found less than a block from my home, in not one but three markets. Gift today’s host or hostess with cilantro and be greeted with astonishment. Or worse.

I have to laugh. Cilantro is in fact so prosaic that in adding photographs –the final step before posting–I realized I had none of cilantro. Two days ago, it was the parsley that caught my eye.

Like all stews–regardless of what they’re called or what part of the world they come from–this one is best when built rather than tossed together. That said, if time is not on your side, Wolfert herself writes that the ingredients may all be placed in the pot, brought to a boil, and simmered for two hours.

Which brings me to cooking method: lacking home ovens, Moroccans cooked their meals over burners. Baking was sent out. When stewing or braising, I prefer starting the dish stovetop, then moving it to a low oven–325-350F. Lamb Tagine will also cook beautifully in a slow-cooker, should you have one.

A few other random mutterings: the original dish calls for saffron, omitted here not only due to expense but because–gulp–I am not fond of it. Maybe I’ve never had good saffron, but I’ve always found it harsh. I’ve also reduced the amounts of onion, because of John. What onion I did use required grating, and got that way in a food processor, because I find box graters instruments of torture.

Finally, the preserved lemon. Wolfert’s recipe calls for two whole lemons, but they are used decoratively rather than being integrated into the dish. Claudia Roden’s recipe calls for mincing the peel and adding it in, maximizing taste. To that end, I used one whole preserved lemon, rinsed, chopped, and stirred in, peel, flesh, and all.

Don’t let a lack of preserved lemons deter you. Short of whipping up a batch yourself, you can buy them at Middle-Eastern markets and some well-stocked gourmet markets. Or you can just use lots of fresh lemon juice, which this recipe calls for anyway.

 

(Not lemons. But the better photograph.)