Tajine Msir Zeetoon

April 8, 2003

Last week when I wrote about tandoori cooking, I was thinking about a friend who had guided us through the menu at a local Indian restaurant some years back. An Indian from Bombay, he knew the dishes intimately and soon had the staff bringing out all sorts of treasures that we might otherwise have not been brave enough to sample.

The tandoor oven was in a glassed-in room but Hemendra insisted he and I have a closer look and charmed his way into the inner sanctum. I soon had a dew on my brow and a much better understanding of this method of cooking as we penetrated the chef's space.

A day after I had written my piece I was shattered to hear Hemendra had died suddenly that morning.

He was an architect and had worked closely with The Spouse on numerous newspaper plant projects over a dozen or so years. He quickly became a good friend and we shared numerous Sunday brunches together with him and one of his colleagues and their respective wives.

When we returned to Wellington last year and decided to renovate our home here, he willingly gave us some input and we ended up with a far more vibrant colour scheme and a more adventurous carpet than we would have sought out ourselves. The painters were hugely enthusiastic as they slathered on sleek aubergine, moody greeny-grey, and deep plum on feature walls, a nice counterbalance to warm creams on the other walls.

We owed Hemendra a meal for his help, but unfortunately it was not to be. Sometimes we think we have all the time in the world to get together with those special friends around the dining table. We are inclined to worry about perfect meal, perfect setting when really, most people are just happy to get together and catch up.

There was a time when I would knock myself out to produce the perfect meal. I can recall one of my more dedicated affairs. It was a labour of love because I knew the two guests would appreciate it.

We started with a light and frothy watercress soup, inspired by a few lines in a book I had been reading, where such a soup had been "lightly misted‚" with chives. It was served with a nutty sherry.

This led onto a rack of veal I remember tying little bundles of carrot matchsticks with wilted chives. The secret here is to loosely tie a bundle of carrot sticks then poke in three or four extras once the knot is tied. If you microwave the bundles, they will hold together. I think we had broccoli with toasted almonds and scalloped potatoes to accompany.

Dessert was Le Pithiviers - a superb almond cream tart in French puff pastry from my well-thumbed recipe book, From Julia Child's Kitchen.

The recipe for the pastry ran over 4-5 pages, the dessert over a further 3-4. But Julia Child never let me down. She led me through many a complicated dish when I had the time and will to impress. The Pithiviers, thanks to Julia, was astonishingly good.

We ended the meal with coffee, my own homemade crystallised orange peel dipped in bitter chocolate, and a nice sticky wine.

The next day a huge bouquet of flowers arrived from our guests and it made every single minute of my day in the kitchen well-spent.

Possibly, one of the nicest things we can do for friends, is cook them a meal. It can be a fantastically complicated affair, or it can be a simple spur-of-the-moment thing. But, either way, we should never underestimate that the important thing is the getting together.

With cooler weather around the corner in these parts, slow-cooked casseroles will be making a comeback and lately I have been doing some Moroccan cooking, inspired by some spice mixes I recently acquired.

Tagines are a tasty choice for a night at home with friends. They can be left quietly cooking away in the oven. Serve with couscous and some lightly cooked courgettes and red peppers for colour. Today's recipe is for chicken with lemon and olives.

Tajine Msir Zeetoon

2kg of assorted chicken pieces, fatty pieces removed
juice of 3 lemons
6 cloves garlic, chopped
1 tablespoon ground cumin
1 teaspoon dried ginger
1 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1 teaspoon turmeric
1 tablespoon dried thyme
1/2 cup chopped coriander
oil
1 cup chicken stock
2 tablespoons flour
1 cup pitted olives - a mix of green and black, including some stuffed with pimentos
1 lemon, cut into wedges (use a preserved lemon if you have one)
4 tomatoes, coarsely chopped seasoning

Sprinkle the chicken with the assorted dried spices then pour over half of the lemon juice and marinate for 3-4 hours.

Drain the chicken and brown in a little oil then place in a casserole and strain over the marinade. Whisk together the flour and chicken stock and add to the chicken with the remaining lemon juice, olives, coriander, garlic, olives and lemon wedges. Top with the tomatoes (above), season with salt and ground pepper.

Bake uncovered for about an hour or until the chicken is cooked and tender.