Moroccan Chicken Recipe
A Tale of My Tangled Love Affair with Moroccan Chicken
Right—pull up a chair. Moroccan Chicken, or as my cousin Bobby calls it, “that spicy stuff with the sticky rice,” is a regular at our house, especially when I can’t decide what to make and have a craving for something that’s got a bit more oomph (and, honestly, when I find half a bag of apricots I forgot about). The first time I tried this, I burned the onions so badly my smoke detector went off twice—my kids still haven’t let me forget it. But since then, I’ve got it down to a science. Or, more accurately, a happy, slightly chaotic ritual with a lot of spices and the kind of smell that makes your neighbors jealous.
Why You’ll Love This (Trust Me, You Will)
I make this Moroccan Chicken when I want to trick my family into eating something that looks fancy but is actually dead simple. My husband goes crazy for that sweet-and-savory combo (he claims it’s magic). And honestly, the leftovers—if there are any—taste even better the next day. I’ve tried skipping the marinating part before and, well, just don’t. Plus, you can use whatever pan is clean. No judgement.
What You Need (and What You Can Get Away With)
- 1.5 kg chicken thighs, skin-on and bone-in (I use thighs, but my aunt swears by drumsticks; either’s fine)
- 2 large onions, thinly sliced—yellow or red, doesn’t matter much
- 3 cloves garlic, minced (or more if you fancy chasing vampires)
- 1 thumb-sized piece of ginger, grated (sometimes I’m lazy and use powdered; don’t tell ‘Mum)
- 1 tsp ground cumin
- 1 tsp ground coriander
- 1.5 tsp ground cinnamon (I’ve accidentally doubled this; it’s…intense)
- 1 tsp turmeric (or a bit of curry powder in a pinch)
- 1 tsp paprika (I go with smoked if I’m showing off)
- 1/2 tsp ground black pepper
- Salt, to taste (my grandmother always insisted on Maldon, but regular is fine)
- 2 tbsp olive oil (sometimes I use sunflower if that’s all I’ve got)
- 1 cup chicken broth (I’ve used veggie stock—no one noticed)
- 1 cup dried apricots, roughly chopped (dates are great too, just a bit stickier)
- 1/2 cup green olives, pitted and halved (skip if you hate olives, or use black)
- 2 preserved lemons, quartered (if you’ve never tried these, don’t panic—just use lemon zest plus a squeeze of fresh lemon)
- Handful of fresh cilantro, shredded (I occasionally substitute with parsley when my supermarket let me down)
- Toasted almond flakes, for serving (optional, but if you have them, they’re lush)
How I Actually Make It (Not Always Perfectly!)
- Get your act together—marinate the chicken: Throw the chicken thighs in a big bowl with cumin, coriander, cinnamon, turmeric, paprika, pepper, a hefty pinch of salt, half the olive oil, garlic, and ginger. Massage it in (pretend it’s a spa day for the chicken). Cover, then stick in the fridge for an hour—honestly, sometimes I forget and just leave it 20 minutes while I wrangle the kids. Longer is better, but whatever works.
- Time for a bit of sizzle: Heat a large heavy pan (Dutch oven if you’re feeling fancy, but I’ve used a battered old frying pan too) with the rest of the olive oil. Brown the chicken in batches—skin-side down first. This is where I usually sneak a crispy bit. Don’t cram ’em all in at once or you’ll get soggy chicken (been there!). Set the chicken aside.
- Soften and sizzle the onions: In the same pan, toss in the onions (feel free to add a little extra oil—sometimes I do!). Cook on a medium-ish heat until golden and floppy, about 8 minutes. Scrape up the brown bits; that’s flavor!
- Back in the chicken goes: Return chicken to the pan. Pour over the broth, add the preserved lemon wedges (or lemon zest + juice), olives, and those apricots (or dates). Give the whole thing a good shuffle around. Bring it to a gentle simmer.
- Let it do its thing: Cover (with a lid, or, in a pinch, foil) and simmer for 40 minutes or so. After half an hour, I like to uncover and let it bubble for another 10-15 min, so the sauce thickens. Oh, if it looks a bit weird at this stage—don’t worry, it always does. Taste for salt because sometimes it’s just not salty enough.
- Finish up and make it pretty: Scatter with cilantro (or parsley) and those toasted almonds just before serving. Honestly, sometimes I skip the almonds if I’m feeling lazy—it still tastes class.
Notes from My Many Attempts
- The preserved lemons are not as scary as I thought—the first time I tried them, I was (mildly) terrified, but they make the dish. If you skip them, a bit of zest really does do the trick.
- If the sauce is too thin, just simmer it uncovered until you’re happy. Once, I tried adding flour; don’t. It gets weirdly gloopy.
- I think the leftovers taste even better cold, especially at midnight, leaning over the fridge like some sort of food gremlin.
Variations and My Experiments (Not All Successes!)
- Swap chicken thighs for lamb (takes longer, but so hearty!)
- I once tried sweet potatoes instead of apricots—honestly not the best idea. Too mushy and the flavor just didn’t pop.
- Chickpeas make a good veggie addition, or even as the main if you skip the meat altogether. Bit less magical, but still comforting.
Equipment Chat—What Actually Matters
Supposedly, a tagine gives you an authentic touch…but, seeing as I’ve never owned one, I use my regular Dutch oven or whatever pan is clean and has a lid. If the lid’s gone walkabout, foil covers it up just fine.
Storage (Not that It’ll Last Long)
Just pop leftovers in the fridge and they’ll keep for up to 3 days—though, honestly, in my house, Moroccan Chicken never stands a chance that long. Freezes OK, but make sure you fish out any bones before freezing or you’ll curse yourself later.
How I Like to Serve This
My personal favorite is piling it over steaming couscous (the instant kind is fine, friend) and a sprinkle of extra herbs. For a special dinner, I bring out crusty bread to mop up the sauce—my daughter’s ritual is to claim the last olive as a prize.
Pro Tips (Learned the Hard Way!)
- Don’t skip browning the chicken; I once did this in a rush and it looked so sad and gray. Don’t be like Past Me.
- Actually, I find this dish works better if you let it sit for 10 minutes before serving—lets the flavors chill out and mix a bit.
- Watch the salt if your olives and preserved lemons are super salty; I’ve ruined my own dinner with salty overkill before. Taste as you go—no shame.
FAQ (People Actually Ask Me These!)
- Can I use boneless, skinless chicken? You can, but honestly, you lose a bit of richness. I mean, it’ll work, just not as hearty. I’ve done it when I forgot to buy thighs, though!
- Do I have to marinate for a whole hour? Not strictly! If you’re in a panic, 20 mins will give you some flavor (just not quite the same depth).
- What if I can’t find preserved lemons? Don’t sweat it. Zest and a squeeze of lemon is my go-to swap; once I even used a dash of vinegar (not my brightest moment, but it worked…sort of).
- Is this spicy? Nah, mostly aromatic. But you could totally chuck in a pinch of chili flakes if you want a kick.
- Can I make this in advance? Yes—and in fact, I think it tastes better the next day. Something magic happens overnight in the fridge (no idea what, but it’s true).
Oh, and before I forget, make yourself a cup of mint tea while it simmers—you’ll feel slightly regal. Enjoy!
Ingredients
- 1.5 kg chicken thighs, skin-on and bone-in (I use thighs, but my aunt swears by drumsticks; either’s fine)
- 2 large onions, thinly sliced—yellow or red, doesn’t matter much
- 3 cloves garlic, minced (or more if you fancy chasing vampires)
- 1 thumb-sized piece of ginger, grated (sometimes I’m lazy and use powdered; don’t tell ‘Mum)
- 1 tsp ground cumin
- 1 tsp ground coriander
- 1.5 tsp ground cinnamon (I’ve accidentally doubled this; it’s…intense)
- 1 tsp turmeric (or a bit of curry powder in a pinch)
- 1 tsp paprika (I go with smoked if I’m showing off)
- 1/2 tsp ground black pepper
- Salt, to taste (my grandmother always insisted on Maldon, but regular is fine)
- 2 tbsp olive oil (sometimes I use sunflower if that’s all I’ve got)
- 1 cup chicken broth (I’ve used veggie stock—no one noticed)
- 1 cup dried apricots, roughly chopped (dates are great too, just a bit stickier)
- 1/2 cup green olives, pitted and halved (skip if you hate olives, or use black)
- 2 preserved lemons, quartered (if you’ve never tried these, don’t panic—just use lemon zest plus a squeeze of fresh lemon)
- Handful of fresh cilantro, shredded (I occasionally substitute with parsley when my supermarket let me down)
- Toasted almond flakes, for serving (optional, but if you have them, they’re lush)
Instructions
-
1Get your act together—marinate the chicken: Throw the chicken thighs in a big bowl with cumin, coriander, cinnamon, turmeric, paprika, pepper, a hefty pinch of salt, half the olive oil, garlic, and ginger. Massage it in (pretend it’s a spa day for the chicken). Cover, then stick in the fridge for an hour—honestly, sometimes I forget and just leave it 20 minutes while I wrangle the kids. Longer is better, but whatever works.
-
2Time for a bit of sizzle: Heat a large heavy pan (Dutch oven if you’re feeling fancy, but I’ve used a battered old frying pan too) with the rest of the olive oil. Brown the chicken in batches—skin-side down first. This is where I usually sneak a crispy bit. Don’t cram ’em all in at once or you’ll get soggy chicken (been there!). Set the chicken aside.
-
3Soften and sizzle the onions: In the same pan, toss in the onions (feel free to add a little extra oil—sometimes I do!). Cook on a medium-ish heat until golden and floppy, about 8 minutes. Scrape up the brown bits; that’s flavor!
-
4Back in the chicken goes: Return chicken to the pan. Pour over the broth, add the preserved lemon wedges (or lemon zest + juice), olives, and those apricots (or dates). Give the whole thing a good shuffle around. Bring it to a gentle simmer.
-
5Let it do its thing: Cover (with a lid, or, in a pinch, foil) and simmer for 40 minutes or so. After half an hour, I like to uncover and let it bubble for another 10-15 min, so the sauce thickens. Oh, if it looks a bit weird at this stage—don’t worry, it always does. Taste for salt because sometimes it’s just not salty enough.
-
6Finish up and make it pretty: Scatter with cilantro (or parsley) and those toasted almonds just before serving. Honestly, sometimes I skip the almonds if I’m feeling lazy—it still tastes class.
Approximate Information for One Serving
Nutrition Disclaimers
Number of total servings shown is approximate. Actual number of servings will depend on your preferred portion sizes.
Nutritional values shown are general guidelines and reflect information for 1 serving using the ingredients listed, not including any optional ingredients. Actual macros may vary slightly depending on specific brands and types of ingredients used.
To determine the weight of one serving, prepare the recipe as instructed. Weigh the finished recipe, then divide the weight of the finished recipe (not including the weight of the container the food is in) by the desired number of servings. Result will be the weight of one serving.
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