When my daughter was away at boarding school, she used to phone my mother every weekend and say: “What are you making for dinner tonight abuela, go on torture me!”
Her grandmother was the ultimate domestic goddess and for as long as I can remember, the kitchen was her uncontested realm. So much so that when I was a child, she discouraged me from helping to prepare our daily meals as she was so particular about the way things should be done.
She travelled regularly for work and consequently the influence of other cultures permeated the kind of dishes she prepared. Whilst my friends looked forwards to traditional fare English fare for dinner, such as toad in the hole or lamb cutlets, I would often be greeted by the exotic smell of Moroccan Chicken Tagine or one of Madha Jaffrey’s spicy curries when I came home from school. At first my inexperienced tastebuds protested at being assaulted by such sophisticated and unusual flavours, but I soon came to appreciate a wide variety of different food. So much so that by the time I was 10, I would just as happily eat Coq au Vin for dinner as fish fingers and chips!
One of her signature dishes, and a personal favourite of mine, was her Lebanese Chicken recipe. The aroma of this mouth-watering dish as it slowly cooked in the oven would make my mouth water in excited anticipation.
She would begin by peeling the potatoes and cutting them into cubes. Then she would season these with salt and pepper and put them in an oven-proof dish along with the organic chicken thighs, which had been finely coated in top quality olive oil. She would then add onions, lemon and garlic to the dish and liberally sprinkle this mixture with allspice, nutmeg, and cinnamon. Once the chicken was cooked, she would garnish it with fresh coriander and serve it accompanied by, Fattoush, a traditional Lebanese salad.
This colourful salad was almost as delicious as the main event itself. The basic ingredients consisted of cucumbers, tomatoes, lettuce, radish, and green onions. To this she would add two cups of roughly chopped fresh parsley leaves (with their stems removed) and one cup of roughly chopped fresh mint leaves. Finally, she would sprinkle the leaves with bite-sized fragments of toasted pitta bread, fried in olive oil until they turned golden-brown. Just before serving, she would dress the salad with a delicious mixture of fresh lime juice, olive oil and mixed spices. As a special treat, I was sometimes allowed to help her knead the mixture used to make her homemade flatbread, which was always served with houmous on the side.
Throughout my childhood years, the knowledge that my mother was making this dish for supper would brighten my whole day. Later, when I became an adult, I discovered that a sure-fire way to impress a prospective boyfriend was to lure him back to my place with the promise of homemade Lebanese Chicken. I was sure to follow my mother’s time-honoured recipe to the letter, which by that time, I had finally learned to make!
