A succulent lamb & apricot tagine that's truly effortless
Place all the ingredients in a pot and dinner's made
Hello friends and welcome back to Pen and Spoon. I’m very grateful that you’ve found your way here.
This week I’m still obsessing about gorgeous meals you can cook in one go in one pot. They just make life so simple on weekdays when life is hectic. Last week I offered you a dreamy all-in-one pasta dish that received lots of love, and today’s recipe is different but similar: an intensely flavoured tagine.
If you’re unfamiliar with tagine, it’s a succulent North African stew traditionally prepared in an earthenware pot of the same name. History is a little murky on how long it’s been on the menu, but the dish is now popular in many parts of North Africa and the Middle East, and dates to at least the 9th century.
It’s beloved of Jewish and Arab cultures alike, and it’s prepared in many different ways. But the cornerstones of a tagine is long slow cooking and, traditionally, the two-part pottery pot in which the magic happens. The pot comprises a shallow circular base and a cone-shaped lid, the shape of which is designed to return all the condensation to the food at the bottom during cooking. In other words, the food is gently steamed in its own juices, resulting in absolutely delicious, tender and succulent meat and chicken (although tagines are made with vegetables, too).
Most tagine recipes - least those I’ve read - require some form of liquid for the meat to braise in, like water, wine or stock. But a few years back I discovered that if you cook the meat gently and slowly in a tightly lidded pot, you don’t need to add any liquid at all. (I cannot for the life of me remember the source of this knowledge - I think I read a recipe that used this method - so, if you know of it, could you get in touch?)
By cooking the meat this way, none of the spicy juices are diluted by other liquids. There probably isn’t as much ‘sauce’ or ‘broth’ generated in mine compared with other versions, but to my mind, there’s more than enough to coat the meat and moisten whatever grains you choose to accompany it. Freekeh - with which I also have an obsession - is divine with this. But other grains, rice or couscous are terrific, too.
Like many tagine recipes, mine combines meat with dried fruit; I’ve used lamb and dried apricots to deliver that sublime savoury-sweet tang. Some might view my recipe (below) as rather parsimonious compared to authentic versions, which typically involve an extensive ingredients lists and a festival of spices. But the purpose of mine it to be quick and simple, and not to have you scrabbling around in your spice drawer at the end of a difficult day.
Rather than a traditional tagine (the cooking pot kind) I use a heavy casserole with a tightly fitting lid - it’s important it doesn’t have a steam hole. As with last week’s pasta dish, this does not look promising to start with. But as your kitchen fills with the beguiling perfume of lamb burbling away happily in its own spicy juices, I promise you you will change your mind.