Baked Jerusalem Artichokes with Bread Crumbs, Thyme and Lemon

I overheard a woman in the school yard yesterday saying how she was so bored with winter that she couldn't even find anything she wanted to eat.  It's easy to feel that sense of malaise in March, when winter feels interminable.  There may be a few more solid weeks of cold, so I'm trying to use this time to eat some really delicious warming foods.  Before long we will all be basking in the possibilities of really fresh salads and a new crop of Spring fruits and vegetables.

Sunroot, Jerusalem Artichoke, aka sunchoke.  It's not an artichoke, but it kind of tastes like one.  It's worth seeking it out and making this gratin before this winter passes us by, which surely it will.

As tubers go, this one is pretty special, coming from a sunflower. Knobby like ginger, so it takes some persistence to peel.  But a little stick-to-itiveness sometimes makes a dish even more rewarding. 

Baked Jerusalem Artichokes, Bread Crumbs, Thyme and Lemon

From Jamie Oliver

This would be a great accompaniment to any roast meat or broiled fish. Don't slice the artichokes too thick or you will wind up baking the dish a lot longer than 30 minutes.

Serves 4-6

1 ⅓ cup heavy cream 

juice of 1 lemon

2 cloves of garlic, peeled and finely chopped

1 good handful of fresh thyme, leaves picked from stems and chopped

3 handfuls of grated Parmesan cheese

salt and freshly ground pepper

2 ¼ lbs Jerusalem artichokes, peeled and sliced as thick as a pencil

2 good handfuls of fresh bread crumbs (I made mine in a food processor using rosemary sourdough bread)

olive oil

Preheat your oven to 425 F.  In a bowl, mix your cream, lemon juice, garlic, half the thyme and most of the Parmesan and season well to taste.  Throw in the sliced Jerusalem artichokes.  Mix well and place everything in an ovenproof baking dish. 

Mix the breadcrumbs with the rest of the thyme and Parmesan and some salt and a little olive oil.  Bake in the oven for around 30 minutes, until the artichokes are tender and the bread crumbs are golden.  

Pumpkin Cauliflower Macaroni and Cheese

I don't think the word lazy has ever been used to describe me.  Sometimes I take shortcuts like buying canned pumpkin.  Although I prefer the old fashioned route (which also happens to be healthier).   I was actually pleased when Whole Foods ran out of solid pack pumpkin last weekend.  It gave me the impetus I needed to make my own.  

So Monday morning before 8 am, I had peeled, seeded, cut into chunks, steamed and pureed in the food processor a whole sugar pumpkin.  Because another thing about me: I am always up early, as in hours before the sun- early (thank you, children).  It was nice to make good use of the time.

The resulting pumpkin has gone into fluffy pumpkin waffles and hearty muffins this week.  It also made a tasty appearance in this mac and cheese, which Roman, Ethan and I gobbled up at 9:30 am, because when you've been up since 5, lunchtime can come very early.  For our hungry tummies, it was a welcome treat to refuel until second lunch.

Creamy Pumpkin Cauliflower Macaroni and Cheese

I used the absorption method for the pasta (it's like making risotto)-- adding water and stirring until the macaroni is cooked.  The pasta releases its starch and makes for a creamier dish.

1 Tablespoon olive oil

2 shallots or 1/2 an onion, diced

2 cloves of garlic, diced

1 head of cauliflower, remove stalk and finely chop

1/2 bag of elbow macaroni (8 ounces)

2 cups of water (estimated)

1 1/2 cups pumpkin puree (you could also use butternut or acorn squash, steamed and pureed)

1 cup shredded whole milk mozzarella cheese

1/4 cup freshly grated parmesan

1/4 tsp salt

Sauté the shallots and garlic in a tablespoon of olive oil.

Add the cauliflower and cook for several minutes over medium heat.  

Add the raw macaroni.  Add 1 cup of water and stir, bringing to a boil and adding more water little by little, as needed until the pasta is tender. When the pasta is done (cauliflower should be tender by this time), stir in the pumpkin puree and remove from heat.  Pour this into a baking dish and stir in the mozzarella cheese and salt.  You can make the dish ahead to this point and keep it refrigerated until before dinner.  When ready to bake, top with parmesan and bake at 375 for about 20 minutes or until it begins to brown slightly. 

Spicy Mango Black Bean Salad with Roasted Corn

In a few weeks, we will be in Massachusetts.  Applying sunscreen, bug repellent, rinsing out bathing suits, licking ice pops, splashing in a baby pool.  Waiting for the corn to grow as high as an elephant's eye, see our laundry blow in the breeze, feel the cool grass sneak up between my toes, slightly prickly but also sort of soft.  Natural grass, not the very manicured kind, a nice shade of green.

Dad is positioned by the grill, watching it all. We are definitely singing.  Maybe he throws on some kabobs with marinated shrimp, certainly a sausage or two.  "Janma" offers me a glass of chilled white wine.  She takes Ethan and bounces him on her lap, making him laugh with paddy cake.  Lisa and the cousins come over and beach balls fly in the yard.  The kids start a game of badminton.  Yes, we should do that this year.  Dirty feet climb up onto the deck for dinner.

Perhaps we'll get to stay up late enough to see the fireflies come out.  I wonder what time they appear.

Spicy Mango Black Bean Salad with Roasted Corn

Lime juice, cumin, cilantro and heat from jalapeño peppers make this salad highly satisfying for sophisticated (grown up) palates.  Enjoy with any grilled fish, chicken, or pork on a gorgeous summer night.

1/2 red onion (about 1/2 cup)

Juice of 1-2 limes

1 red pepper

2 jalapeño peppers (start with one, or go for two if you like a lot of heat)

2 ripe mangoes

1 can of black beans, rinsed

2 ears of fresh corn

1 handful of cilantro

1 teaspoon ground cumin

1/2 teaspoon fine sea salt

2 Tablespoons of good olive oil

Dice the red onion and let it soak in the lime juice for several minutes.  Add the diced red peppers, jalapeño peppers (remove the seeds, or leave them in for full heat.) Cube the mangoes, add the rinsed beans.  Shuck and roast the corn either on a grill or grill pan for several minutes.  (If you can't do this, just microwave it for two minutes and run it under cold water to cool it.)  Cut the corn off the cobs and add to the salad.  Chop the cilantro, then stir it in with the cumin and salt.  Drizzle in the olive oil and stir to combine all the ingredients.  Serve immediately or chill slightly.  

What he eats

I still remember the day Roman turned six months old and we introduced solid foods.  It seemed like a major event.  I carefully mashed up a banana, sat him in his high chair and with a video camera rolling behind me, offered him a spoonful.  He swiftly rejected it.  Non-event.  I tried again over the next few weeks with other mashed fruits and vegetables to no avail.

At first I felt distressed that he did not take to food immediately. Wouldn't he inherit our love of gastronomy?  I knew he would come to the table in his own time, and when he did, a few months later, it was for meat sauce.  I hesitate to call this a bolognese at the risk of offending the purists, but it's a close cousin.  I've made this meat sauce at least twice a month for the last year and a half.  It's adored by Roman and his older cousins who call it their all-time favorite pasta sauce.

I hope I'm helping Roman form a healthy relationship with food.  Learning to eat, to taste, to savor -- these are all building blocks in his repertoire of life skills.  I want him to smell the onions simmering in olive oil and get excited about what might come out of that pot.  That's what I remember most about Saturday mornings as a kid.  It's not just food.  It's an investment in the next generation of foodies.

Roman's Favorite Meat Sauce
We love this with any shape of pasta, over polenta or even on a whole wheat bun like a sloppy joe.  It freezes well, so I freeze small portions that can be defrosted overnight in the refrigerator.  Feel free to replace some of the water with red wine.  What makes this meat sauce so good is actually the vegetables.  The finely chopped carrot, celery, onion and garlic provide a wonderful backdrop of flavor.  I have tried it with every meat combination possible: beef, pork, and veal, beef alone, even turkey (although that was not my favorite).  You can also add some diced pancetta or bacon before you brown the ground meat. Top with freshly grated parmesan cheese if you like.

1 onion
2 carrots
2 stalks of celery
2 cloves of garlic
1 1/2 pounds (700 grams) ground meat (if you wish, use a combination of beef, pork and veal.)
1 28 ounce (800 grams) can of stewed, pureed tomatoes
2 cups water (500 ml)
salt to taste

Begin by cutting the vegetables into chunks and chopping them into very fine pieces in a food processor.  In a large pot or dutch oven, heat some olive oil (you don't need a lot). Sauté the chopped vegetables with a little salt for about five minutes.  Push all the vegetables to one side of the pot and add your ground beef.  Break it up with a wooden spoon as it browns.  Add the tomatoes, then refill the can with water and add this to the pot.  Now gently simmer the sauce for 1 1/2 to 2 hours until most of the liquid is absorbed.

Beef Short Ribs and Community Supported Agriculture

When we lived in Italy, I had a great relationship with my local butchers.  I loved the individual attention, the sense of community in their shops and I always looked forward to visiting them for a chat. Their meats were tender and flavorful, yet I was continually curious about the origin of the meat I was buying. Despite my probing questions, it appeared impossible to get accurate information on how the meat was raised and butchered.  I imagined animals roaming the idyllic Umbrian countryside, but my fairytale still left me in the dark about the Italian meat industry.  My organic grocer sold "organically raised" meat, so I knew there was some difference between that and my butcher shop purchases.  Since no one could really answer my questions, I balanced my purchases between the butcher and the organic grocer and hoped I was avoiding hormones and antibiotics.

Back in the States I certainly miss the colorful interactions with merchants in Rome.  Although I try to engage people at my local grocery store, no one has warmed up to me the way the Italians did.  So recently I've been supporting local farmers at my local Green Market who are much more open to conversation.  This winter I also joined a collective of small family ranches that offers a CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) share called 8 O'Clock Ranch.  They provide organically raised beef and lamb, as well as pastured pork and chicken. It's delicious and convenient and has the added benefit of supporting local, sustainable family businesses.

Part of the fun of a CSA share is using cuts of meat I don't normally make at home, like these beef short ribs.  I prepared them for the first meal of 2012,  using a recipe reminiscent of the hearty wild boar or ox tail I used to make in Rome.  It takes time to build community, but I'm on my way-- one sustainable purchase at a time.

Slow-cook Beef Short Ribs with Polenta

Serves 4 

This makes a wonderful, hearty winter meal.  I made it a day before serving it, which was helpful because this cut of meat is rich in fat, and refrigerating it overnight made it easy to skim off 3/4 of the fat that separated, making for a less greasy sauce.  You can easily double the recipe.  If you have extra sauce once the meat has been eaten, simmer it down in a pot and serve with pasta. I have learned from experience to eat a rich meal like this for a weekend lunch instead of dinner, allowing more time for digestion. 

Olive oil

4 lbs beef short ribs (about 4 ribs)

1 onion

1 celery stalk

2 medium carrots

3 garlic cloves

1 bay leaf

1 tablespoon tomato paste

1 cup red wine

5 cups beef stock

leaves from a sprig of fresh thyme

a small handful of parsley

fresh chives 

Coat the bottom of a dutch oven or soup pot with olive oil and heat the pan to medium high heat.  Season the beef with salt and pepper.  Working in batches if needed, sear the meat for a few minutes on both sides until brown.  Remove the meat from the pot and set aside. 

Process the onion, celery, carrots and garlic in a food processor to a fine dice. 
Adding additional olive oil if necessary, sauté the vegetables in the dutch oven until transparent, about 5 minutes.  
Add the bay leaf, tomato paste, red wine, beef stock and thyme leaves.
Return the beef to the pot and cover. Simmer over medium or medium-low heat for 2 hours. 
**You can cool the dish and refrigerate overnight if you wish (skim most of the separated fat off once cooled) or serve immediately.  Remove the bay leaf and sprinkle with fresh parsley and chives before serving.  It's wonderful served with polenta.

Basic Polenta recipe
serves 4-6

6 cups water or broth
1 teaspoon salt
2 cups polenta (I like Bob's Red Mill)
1 tablespoon butter
1/4 cup grated parmesan cheese

Boil the water and salt in a heavy bottomed pot.  Add the polenta gradually and stir often while the polenta boils (this may take 20-30 minutes).  When all the water has been absorbed, stir in some butter and parmesan cheese.  Serve hot.

Simple Black Bean Soup

Just because a dish is simple doesn't mean it's not worthy of being called fantastic. Simple meals are often the most satisfying.  


What else is simple?

• Cherishing your relationships. 
• Loving yourself. 
• Doing "good," in small or big ways. Smile genuinely at a total stranger who looks like they are having a bad day.  Volunteer and change a life.

When all of the above feels complicated, start from scratch.  A warm bowl of black bean soup to "do good" for your body.

While you eat, enjoy the simplicity of it and remember how lucky you are to have a hot bowl of soup this season.  Simply put, it's one of life's small pleasures.

Simple Black Bean Soup
Makes enough for about 4 servings.


This is quick to prepare, hearty, filling and healthy. It's also very easy to improvise, making it great for a weeknight dinner or a weekend lunch.  Love heat? Kick up the chili powder and add some hot sauce.  Want to round out the meal?  Serve with a salad and some corn muffins.  
1/2 red onion, peeled and diced
2 cloves garlic, finely chopped
1 carrot, peeled and diced
1 stalk of celery, diced
1 red pepper, diced
2 cups (400 grams) black beans, drained
2 cups (400 grams) chopped tomatoes (I used a 14 ounce can.)
1/2 cup (118 ml) chicken broth, vegetable broth or water
1/2 teaspoon oregano
1/2 teaspoon chili powder
1/2 teaspoon cumin
1 bay leaf
Cilantro, avocado, sour cream or even grated cheese for garnish (optional, but encouraged)

In a medium soup pot, saute the onion, garlic, carrot, celery, red pepper for about 5 minutes.

Add the black beans, tomatoes, broth and spices.

Simmer for 30 minutes, remove bay leaf, then garnish and serve.

Creamy Macaroni and Cheese

There are days like today, where comfort is of the essence. A day to stay in my pajamas, organize plans for the week to come, do laundry, clean up, and eat really well.  Yesterday was stupid. I wore my rain boots out but didn't tuck my jeans into them. My umbrella was useless, it kept turning inside out with the wind. And despite the unseasonably cold, rainy-snowy-slushy weather, I went out three separate times. Not sensible.

Today is the day after the really rainy, snowy and strange late October day where I overdid it on the errands and ended up exhausted with a sore throat. It's the morning after the night where our neighbors partied too hard (again), accounting for a gross lack of sleep around here. So right around 11 a.m. before our stomachs started growling, I reached for Ruth's recipe box. While I grated, measured and stirred, I imagined her in her 1950's kitchen making this for her family. When did she make this? Was it a weeknight dish?  Something tells me this was more of a once in a while, for emergencies dish. Maybe someone was cramming for a test, or had a bad case of the doldrums and needed some comfort in a bowl.

Foods like this are important. They say, "I love you" and "let's just be a quiet family today." No need to go schlepping through the busy city, in search of adventure every day. Today we can just be together and share some creamy mac and cheese before our nap. Well, their nap. At least some people in this household are sensible.

Creamy Macaroni and Cheese

Serves 4-6

I adapted Ruth's recipe by adding about 1/4 cup of soft goat cheese and slightly reducing the amount of cheddar cheese and milk. If you don't have goat cheese, just use 8 ounces of sharp cheddar and 3 cups of milk. I also used orecchiete instead of elbow macaroni because I can't resist their slightly floppy shape. In addition, I replaced the margarine with butter. 

1 1/2 cups elbow macaroni (or 2 cups orecchiete)

2 tablespoons butter

4 1/2 tablespoons flour

1/4 teaspoon mustard (I used coarse grain.)

3/4 teaspoon salt

1/4 teaspoon pepper

2 1/2 cups milk (I used whole milk.)

3/4 teaspoon worcestershire sauce

1/4 small onion, grated (about 2 tablespoons grated onion)

7 ounces grated sharp cheddar cheese

3 ounces soft goat cheese

1 slice bread (or 3 tablespoons fine bread crumbs)

1 1/2 tablespoons melted butter

Cook and drain the pasta and put into a 2 quart casserole dish. 

In a saucepan over low heat, melt the butter, blend in the flour, mustard, salt and pepper.

Remove from the heat and gradually add the milk.

Cook until thickened, stirring constantly.  

Add worcestershire sauce, onion, and cheeses.  Stir until the cheeses melt. 

Pour over the pasta.  

Combine the butter and fine bread crumbs (I made my own in the food processor using one slice of wheat bread.) Sprinkle the buttered bread crumbs over the dish and bake at 375 degrees for 30-40 minutes until browned. 

Orange Cumin Beef Stew

Recently a dear friend called on the phone sounding excited. "Nicole, I have two things to tell you," she said. "First, on the way to work, there was a car in front of me with a bumper sticker: Love people. Cook them good food.  That's what you do!!" I could hear the smile in her voice.  "Second, I made your chili last night and we're having it tonight. I'm about to make the muffins."  Bravo, I thought, people are starting to cook from my blog. I love it.

I guess I hadn't realized to what extent I do follow that mantra. Lucky to finally be in a city where we have both friends and family, I've been capitalizing on this and hosting miniature dinner parties during the week.  Entertaining mid-week breaks up any monotony and invites warmth into what might otherwise be just another night.  Well, there was nothing blasé about last Thursday night. I invited an old friend (with a great sense of humor) whom we've known for 13 years.  P arrived home from work and spontaneously pulled out a bottle of good Champagne.  What better way to celebrate life then to feast and be merry on a Thursday night?

Forgive my enthusiasm. Now I want to talk about stew.

There are foods that we expect to taste the same every time we eat them.  That's part of the attraction; they are foods we can depend on to make us feel a certain way.  This recipe, however, is the revival of beef stew, a trusty old comfort food. And watch out, this is not your grandmother's stew.  This one is daring and bold with a flavor combination that sets it apart from the classic and sends it into the realm of legendary.  A dish that you'll want to make over and over because it will be hard to forget.

My mother used to make this stew for "company."  It's special enough for any family gathering but also remarkable enough to share with friends, guests, or "company" in the old-fashioned sense of the term.  Serve with some crusty French bread and wait to hear the symphony of "mmmmmmm....!"

Orange Cumin Beef Stew
Serves 6
I suggest making this one day before you plan on serving it so that all of the flavors really pop.

3 pounds chuck for stew, cut into 1-inch cubes
cooking oil
1/4 cup orange juice
grated rind of one orange (choose organic)
1/2 cup beef broth
1 6-oz can tomato paste
1/4 cup red wine vinegar
2 tablespoons light brown sugar
4-1/2 teaspoons ground cumin
1 tablespoon oregano
3 cloves garlic, minced
1-1/2 teaspoons allspice
8 ounces fresh or frozen pearl onions
1 pound small mushrooms
butter for sautéing
salt and pepper to taste

Sauté the beef in medium/hot oil a few pieces at a time to brown. Transfer it to a large pot and add all the other ingredients except the onions, mushrooms, butter, salt and pepper. Cover the pot and simmer on medium-low, stirring occasionally for about 1 1/2 hours or until the beef is tender. If the sauce is too thin, add 2 tablespoons of cornstarch dissolved in water.

Saute the onions and mushrooms briefly in butter and add them to the stew.

Note: If you are using fresh pearl onions, boil them in water for 3 minutes. Then cut the root end off and the skins should peel off easily.

Lemony Pasta with Roasted Cauliflower, Pancetta and Crème Fraîche

Any culture has its idiosyncrasies and Italy can be an interesting place to live and observe these quirks. I've never seen a city of people resist Spring to the extent that the Romans do. We've had a few days of bright sun with temperatures in the high 60's (near 19 celsius) and most people on the streets have yet to unburden themselves of their heavy scarves and hats or shed their down jackets.

I grew up in New England, and no matter what the thermostat said in March, I remember putting on last year's short sleeves and running outside to watch the last of the snow melt. Maybe I thought my behavior would encourage Spring to finally arrive. So here in Rome, where we've hardly had a winter by any measure, you'd better believe that I am not putting a jacket back on no matter what.

I buy things that smile at me when food shopping and that's exactly how this dish started. Two gorgeous heads of purple cauliflower, a bag of mezze maniche (literally "half sleeve") pasta that I bought for the name alone, and a walk home to ponder flavors that would pair well.

To welcome Spring, a bowl of short sleeve pasta seemed appropriate.

Lemony Pasta with Roasted Cauliflower, Pancetta and Crème Fraîche

As it turns out, those beautiful heads of cauliflower lost their luster once roasted, kind of like a top model without make up and styling. So feel free to use whatever cauliflower you can find. Paired with some salty but sweet pancetta, crème fraîche and the refreshing zest of lemon, this simple dish made for a nice lunch and goodbye to another winter. Short sleeves optional.

For two

1 large or 2 small heads of cauliflower

3 ounces (100 grams) cubed pancetta

4 large spoonfuls crème fraîche

zest of one lemon

1/2 bag of pasta

parmesan optional

Cut the cauliflower into florets and drizzle with olive oil. Roast at 400 fahrenheit for about 30 minutes.

Cook your pasta al dente.

In a sauce pan, drizzle a little olive oil and fry the pancetta until it begins to brown. Drain out some of the fat onto a paper towel. Turn off the heat and stir in about 4 good soup spoons of crème fraîche and stir to melt. Add the zest of one lemon and toss in the cooked pasta to coat. Serve with freshly ground pepper and some parmesan if you like.

Pasta with Broccoli and Sausage

Last weekend, the three of us went to our favorite restaurant for a post-Valentines day lunch celebration. Roman sat happily through three courses- an amazing feat for a toddler. We enjoyed this dish made with paccheri which I decided would be easy enough to recreate at home.

Paccheri are a floppy, oversized pasta, whose name is apparently derived from Ancient Greek and refers to a larger than usual hand and a non-hostile "slap," maybe something like a "high five." I've also seen paccheri served stuffed, frequently with seafood, or baked in the oven with cheeses.

There are an estimated 350 pasta shapes here in Italy. I find the names of pasta interesting, descriptive- almost obviously so (maltagliati- "badly cut") and sometimes almost comical (if you think about eating something shaped after little ears, "orecchiette"). Italians seem to inherently know what type of pasta goes with which sauce. When I stopped in to buy the pasta for another dish last week, I told the salesman I needed spaghetti because I was making spaghetti all'amatriciana and his eyes just about popped out of his head in disbelief. The proper pasta for the amatriciana sauce is bucatini (a tubular long pasta), not spaghetti. Well, not according to the street sign welcoming visitors to Amatrice, the town for which the sauce is named. But as a foreigner, it's usually better not to argue about these things.

It's not the first faux-pas I've made. If I'm being totally honest, I don't always follow the golden rule and use abundant amounts of water to cook my pasta because I'm usually too impatient to wait for a huge pot to boil. I never add salt to the water, and I often reheat leftover pasta the next day, something an Italian home cook would never do. Other than that, I do cook my pasta just until al dente, about 2 minutes shorter than American cook times, and after my first few meals here, I quickly adjusted to this consistency.

Here in Rome I buy organic broccoli grown in Sicily. Raw it is truly bitter, but I see no good reason to eat raw broccoli. Steamed or sauteed it becomes sweet, mild enough for a toddler to enjoy. It seems to be his new favorite food!

Paccheri with broccoli and sausage

Inspired by our lunch at Santa Lucia

I recommend using luganega sausage if you can find it. It's a mild sausage that's sold by the meter rather than in links. If it's not available, a mild or spicy Italian sausage will do. For this dish, the top of the broccoli, just the florets, is shaved so finely that it cooks really quickly and adheres nicely to the pasta. Save the stalks to use for something else, like soup or stir fry.

2 tablespoons olive oil

3/4 lb sausage, removed from its casing and broken into small pieces

1/2 a small onion, finely diced

The tops of about 2 heads of broccoli, depending on size (should yield about 3 big handfuls of finely cut broccoli)

paccheri or other large pasta, enough for 4 servings

parmesan or pecorino cheese for sprinkling

In a large frying pan, heat one tablespoon of oil and saute the sausage until brown. Remove from the pan. Add another tablespoon of oil and saute the onion until transparent. Add the finely cut up broccoli (use just the florets, and shave them off the head of broccoli with a sharp knife, and a few tablespoons of water. Cook this for about 10 minutes, adding small amounts of more oil or water so that the broccoli stays moist, then add the sausage back to the pan. Cover and cook for a few more minutes to make sure the sausage is cooked through. Watch carefully so you don't overcook the broccoli- it's prettier when it's still bright green. Meanwhile, cook the pasta according to the package, then drain and toss in the pan with the sauce to coat. Sprinkle with some parmesan or pecorino and serve.

Chicken with Dates and Pine nuts

If we are the sum of the places we've lived, the people we've known, the experiences we've had in life, then there's a little bit of Tunisia in me. When we first arrived in Tunisia in 2005, my first mission was to discover the cuisine. At our local market, I was perplexed that there was not a wide variety of produce. After all, Tunisia was once the breadbasket of the Mediterranean, and fed the whole Roman Empire. Under Ben Ali's regime, certain crops were subsidized, so that is what people grew, which meant one type of tomato, one variety of onion, and many of the best that the country had to offer of olives, dates, etc. were exported out of the country. In addition, because of the closed economy, very little imported produce was allowed to compete with the local economy, so at certain times of the year, onions were literally unavailable.

Strangely, the tourist restaurants rarely featured real Tunisian cooking, other than a few popular dishes. Fresh fish was always central on the menu, but it was hard to find what made Tunisian cuisine stand out. When I started eating in the souk, I began to discover really tasty, simple dishes. Kind of like eating street food, no frills, but intensely good.

I bought a cookbook and started to cook some of these dishes at home. This is the chicken dish I made most often, and I decided to make it again this week since it had been years, and like many others, I've had Tunisia on my mind.

Chicken with Dates and Pine Nuts

Adapted from Cuisine Tunisienne by Christiane Desbordes

This is a wonderful winter dish, rich, creamy and slightly sweet. It can be served over rice, but I chose spelt couscous for a little variety in our grain consumption. I've made versions of this dish substituting the dates with apricots, and using slivered almonds in the place of pine nuts.

1 3lb chicken (1.5 kg)

2 tablespoons oil

2 onions, chopped

a dozen dates, pitted and torn in half lengthwise

1 tablespoon curry powder

1 tablespoon flour

1 cup water

3.5 ounces (100 grams) crème fraîche

1/2 cup pine nuts

Cut the chicken into pieces (or you can use chicken thighs, or even breasts cut into morsels). In a medium saute pan, brown the chicken in the oil, then add the onions and saute for another three minutes. Add the curry powder, flour and water and simmer for five minutes. Add the dates, salt and pepper, then cover and simmer for about 40 minutes, stirring occasionally.

During this time, toast the pine nuts in a bare frying pan, watching carefully not to burn them.

Remove the chicken from the pan and let the sauce reduce slightly, then remove from the heat and stir in the crème fraîche.

Serve over rice or couscous, sprinkle with the toasted pine nuts.