Couscous

Anna Cornino Santoro’s memorable couscous with scorpion-fish brodetto inspired me to create this version when I got home. I use grouper, a delicious fish, widely available and easy to work with (and certainly with fewer bones than scorpion fish!). Making couscous by hand, as Anna does, is not feasible for most of us, I realize. Fortunately, good-quality packaged couscous is in every supermarket these days. Almost all commercial couscous is precooked, so it takes barely 5 minutes to make a flavorful, fluffy base for the brodetto.

There is something particularly irresistible about food that’s wrapped up like a parcel in an edible casing—especially when there’s a little something inside that you’re not expecting. For me, the subtle, slightly briny flavor of grape leaves represents the best of the Mediterranean. In this dish, there’s an appealing exchange between the fish, grape leaves, and couscous that results in a moist, aromatic, and savory package enhanced by a tangy olive vinaigrette and roasted red pepper garnish. The feta cheese is a tasty addition and a pretty garnish, but it’s not necessary. When it comes to choosing fish, a thick, super-fresh fillet of mahi mahi, grouper, amberjack, or snapper would be ideal.

I used to be very apprehensive about different ethnic foods until I studied abroad. The first time I had a tagine was in France and I wondered where it had been all my life! That first tagine was the furthest thing from being vegetarian-friendly, as it came with every kind of meat you can imagine, but an all-vegetable version is just as good. This is a great meal for when you have friends coming over or to take to a potluck.

Light and fresh, this couscous can be served hot as a side dish for any number of entrees, or at room temperature as you would any other pasta- or grain-based salad. Israeli couscous is a small, round semolina pasta resembling barley or large tapioca pearls. Traditional couscous is much smaller and is soaked rather than boiled; I prefer Israeli couscous for its uniform shape and its firm yet tender texture. Diced roasted red pepper and sweet green peas deliver a pop of color to the pearly couscous. Mildly assertive green onions balance the peas’ and pepper’s sweetness, as do tart lemon juice and its bright zest. Pine nuts, toasted to deepen their flavor, add their crunchy yet creamy texture to the mix.

I got the idea for packing pungent combinations of toppings onto fish before it cooks from Nate Appleman’s gorgeous book, A16: Food + Wine. I like to take it a step further and cook the fish over saffron-infused beads of Israeli couscous. This recipe is a great use for my 12-Hour Tomatoes (page 2), but if you don’t already have some in your refrigerator, you can substitute three or four sun-dried tomato halves packed in oil. Eat this fish with sautéed greens or a salad.

The ideal here would be the pale, plump zucchini varieties you find in Middle Eastern markets. I visit one near London’s Edgware Road that even has them ready prepared, their seeds removed for stuffing, and packed into little plastic crates. If these torpedo-shaped squashes escape me, and they often do, then I use the ubiquitous type, halve them lengthwise and scatter the filling loosely over the top rather than making a clumsy attempt to stuff them. The classic zucchini stuffings of the Middle East vary from family to family but usually include cooked rice or ground lamb, or occasionally walnuts, pine nuts, or hazelnuts, stirred into softened onion and then lightly seasoned with allspice, tomato paste, and parsley. The effect is a moist filling of elegance and pleasing predictability. I sometimes want something more unusual. A stuffing that intrigues as much as it pleases.

Rice has for centuries been the obvious contender for stuffing a pepper—and indeed eggplant or a beefsteak tomato—flavored with caramelized onions, golden raisins, and musky raisins, and seasoned with capers, anchovies, cinnamon, or cumin. Small grains—cracked wheat, brown rice, the underused quinoa—are eminently suitable fillings, as is any type of small bean, lentil, or the plump, pearl-shaped couscous known as mograbiah. Vegetable stuffings can set the pepper alight. Piercing, cherrysized tomatoes, such as Sungold or Gardener’s Delight, or chunks of sweet steamed pumpkin offer more than just jewel colors to lift the spirits. They have a brightness of flavor very different from the humble, homely grains. They offer a change of step. A few hand-torn chunks of mozzarella and some olive oil will produce a seductive filling. Ground beef, the knee-jerk filling, somehow makes my heart sink. Mograbiah, sometimes known as pearl couscous, takes the idea on a bit, having the comforting, frugal qualities of rice but possessing an extraordinary texture, poised between pasta and couscous. Made of wheat and similar to Sardinian fregola, it is available at Middle Eastern markets.

I have eaten this for supper with a spot of harissa sauce stirred in (let down with a little water) but that is not really the idea. It is meant as an accompaniment to grilled lamb or fish, or perhaps some spicy meatballs. Instantly comforting, and as soothing as a pashmina.

Onions are used in most stuffings, both lightening the rice, couscous, or breadcrumbs and introducing sweetness. As they melt down, they keep the filling moist. Ask the butcher to prepare your shoulder of lamb for stuffing. When the bone is removed, it provides a neat pocket that will hold just the right amount.

I tasted grilled mussels for the first time last summer and they were a revelation. Grilled mussels cook in their own brine and have a rich, undiluted flavor. This Mediterranean-style meal pairs them with fluffy couscous and a quick tomato sauce. This recipe also works beautifully with clams. You can cook the tomatoes a day ahead and warm them up just before serving.

Jill and I fell in love with Moroccan food while we were studying in France and had to include a dish with those amazing flavors. The cinnamon, curry, and raisins that are commonly found in Moroccan cooking combine to give this stew an unexpected depth. When all the flavors are cooked together and served over the couscous it’s sure to be a crowd-pleaser.

I created this recipe when I was living in France, where they use a lot of couscous. Since I love peppers I started experimenting with different combinations and found that there really is no bad combination. You can use any vegetables and even throw in some cooked meat, if you have some that needs to be used up.

Because I am a vegetarian and the rest of my family is not, we are often at odds to come up with a dinner that will make everyone happy. Ratatouille (ra-tuh-TOO-ee) has saved the day more than once. I always make a double batch and freeze the extra in resealable bags. It reheats well in the microwave and is really good on pasta, rice, or whatever starch the rest of your family is eating.

Surprisingly, this couscous recipe has its origins in Italy. I was in Sicily, deep in the land of linguini, when out came couscous as part of our meal. “Couscous?” I thought. “That’s Moroccan, not Italian.” Well, it turns out that every invading army passing through Sicily left a bit of its cuisine behind. And couscous, despite the exotic name, is actually a tiny, beadlike pasta. I love it because it’s easy to prepare—no huge pots of boiling water necessary, just a little steam or hot broth and, in 10 minutes, voila! It’s also so soft and delicious in the mouth, like a gentle massage. Pistachios are my secret ingredient here. Most people think of them as something you only see at a ballgame or in ice cream, but their buttery texture, great vitamin content, and wonderful pale green coloring make them a great choice anytime. I love to put a dollop of Sweet and Savory Yogurt (page 189) on top of this dish. This recipe works beautifully with a drizzle of Moroccan Pesto (page 186).

A soup that looks and tastes garden-fresh, this is a good one to serve all summer long.

This hearty curry becomes the centerpiece of a satisfying meal served over hot cooked grains, and accompanied by Chapatis (page 158) and a simple, palate-cooling salad of cucumbers and tomatoes.

This delicious stew looks and smells as enticing as it tastes. My sister-in-law, Toni Atlas, provided the inspiration for this recipe.

Believe it or not, eggplants have genders. Look for male eggplants, which have a shallow scar at their base, rather than female eggplants, which have a deeper indentation like a belly button. Male eggplants have fewer seeds and supposedly taste less bitter.

This meal sings with the Mediterranean flavors of garlic and olives. Substitute 4 ounces of ripe pitted California olives for the kalamatas, a 14-ounce can of diced tomatoes for fresh tomatoes, and 1 1/2 cups of frozen broccoli florets for the zucchini to change this meal from a taste of summer to an easy midwinter solution without losing the essence of the dish.