Around My French Table (42 page)

I've taken to the Basque custom of putting a little bowl of piment d'Espelette on the table instead of the usual peppermill. The mildly hot red pepper takes its name from the village of Espelette, where the freshly harvested chiles are tied into braids and hung to dry against the walls of the white washed houses before they're ground. Piment d'Espelette is available at specialty stores and online, and no matter where you buy it, even in Espelette, it's expensive—fortunately, a pinch packs a lot of flavor. If you don't have piment d'Espelette, don't let it stop you from making the pipérade; use Anaheim chile powder (or even regular chili powder) instead.

You can prepare the pipérade without peeling the peppers; however, as they cook, the skins will separate from the flesh. If you don't mind a few floating skins, skip the peeling (it's what I do). If you'd rather peel the peppers, you've got a couple of options: You can use a serrated swivel-blade vegetable peeler to remove the peels, or you can roast the peppers just until the skins can be easily removed, but not until the flesh becomes soft. The fastest and easiest way to do this is to char the peppers over a gas burner or on an electric burner. As soon as the skin warms and blisters enough for you to remove it, you're on your way.

TO MAKE THE PIPÉRADE:
Cut the onions in half from top to bottom. Lay each piece flat side down and cut in half again from top to bottom, stopping just short of the root end; cut each half onion crosswise into thin slices.

Put a Dutch oven or large high-sided skillet with a cover over medium heat and pour in 2 tablespoons of the oil. Warm the oil for a minute, then toss in the onions and cook, stirring, for 10 minutes, or until softened but not colored.

Meanwhile, cut the peppers and chiles in half, trim the tops, remove the cores, and remove the seeds. Cut the bell peppers lengthwise into strips about ½ inch wide. Thinly slice the chiles.

Add the remaining tablespoon of oil to the pot, stir in the peppers and chiles, cover, and reduce the heat to medium-low. Cook and stir for another 20 minutes, or until all the vegetables are quite soft.

Add the tomatoes, garlic, salt, sugar, thyme, bay leaf, piment d'Espelette or chile powder, and freshly ground pepper to taste, stir well, cover, and cook for 10 minutes more. Remove the cover and let the pipérade simmer for another 15 minutes. You'll have a fair amount of liquid in the pot, and that's fine. Remove the thyme and bay leaf. Taste and add more salt, pepper, or piment d'Espelette if you think it needs it.

If you'd like to make the pipérade and eggs (see Bonne Idée), use a slotted spoon to transfer 2 cups of the pepper mixture to a bowl. Spoon in a little of the cooking liquid, and refrigerate until needed.
(You can pack all of the pipérade airtight and keep it refrigerated for up to 4 days.)

TO MAKE THE CHICKEN:
Pat the chicken pieces dry. Warm the oil in a Dutch oven or other heavy casserole over medium-high heat. Add a couple of chicken pieces, skin side down (don't crowd the chicken—do this in batches), and cook until the skin is golden, about 5 minutes. Turn the pieces over and cook for another 3 minutes. Transfer the pieces to a bowl, season with salt and pepper, and continue until all the chicken is browned.

Discard the oil, set the pot over high heat, pour in the wine, and use a wooden spoon to scrape up any bits that might have stuck to the bottom. Let the wine bubble away until it cooks down to about 2 tablespoons. Return the chicken to the pot, add any juices that have accumulated in the bowl, and spoon in the pipérade. Bring the mixture to a boil, then reduce the heat so that the pipérade just simmers, cover the pot, and simmer gently for 40 minutes, or until the chicken is cooked through. Taste for salt and pepper and adjust the seasonings as needed.

Serve over white rice, sprinkled with the basil and/or cilantro, if using.

MAKES 4 SERVINGS

SERVING
The colorful chicken and piperade is best served on top of plain white rice. If you'd like, dust the top of the dish with some minced fresh basil or cilantro. In the Basque tradition, have a small bowl of piment d'Espelette on the table or fill a small pepper grinder or shaker with the piment.

STORING
The piperade can be made ahead and kept in the refrigerator for up to 4 days or packed airtight and frozen for up to 2 months. The piperade and chicken can also be made ahead and refrigerated for a couple of days or frozen for a couple of months; defrost overnight in the refrigerator.

BONNE IDÉE
Pipérade and Eggs.
The traditional way to make pipérade and eggs is to heat the pipérade, stir beaten eggs into the mixture, and cook until the eggs are scrambled. Inevitably and invariably the eggs curdle, but no one (at least no one Basque) seems to mind. If you'd like uncurdled eggs, warm 2 cups pipérade in a saucepan. Meanwhile, beat 6 eggs with a little salt and pepper in a bowl. Heat 2 tablespoons unsalted butter in a large nonstick skillet over medium heat, and when the bubbles subside, pour in the eggs. Cook the eggs, stirring, until they form soft curds. Spoon the pipérade into four shallow soup plates and, with the back of a spoon, make a little well in the center of each. Fill each well with some scrambled eggs. Drizzle the eggs and pipérade sparingly with olive oil, dust with minced basil or cilantro, if you'd like, and serve immediately, with slices of warm toasted country bread rubbed with garlic and moistened with oil.

F
ALLING DEFINITIVELY ON THE SWEET SIDE
of the sweet-savory continuum, this tagine seduces with its haunting fragrances and conquers with its mix of spices, fruit, and vegetables. As is often true in tagines, it is built on a base of onions, cooked slowly, slowly, slowly, not to color them, but to concentrate their flavor, just about melt them really, and to get them ready to welcome the spices—saffron, cinnamon (if you can find full-flavored and slightly spicy Vietnamese cinnamon, it's lovely here), star anise, and bay. While this is a powerful blend, gentle cooking renders it mild and pleasantly puzzling; it won't be easy to put your finger on which of the spices is urging you to have another taste. The sweet potatoes and prunes only add to the exoticism.

Pour 2 tablespoons of the oil into the base of a large tagine or a Dutch oven and warm over low heat. Add the onions, stirring to coat them with oil, then mix in 1 tablespoon of the water, season with salt, and cover the pot. Cook the onions gently for about 30 minutes, stirring occasionally, until they are very soft but not colored.

Meanwhile, brown the chicken. Heat a tablespoon or two of oil in a large skillet, preferably nonstick, over medium heat. Slip the chicken into the pan, skin side down (don't crowd the pan—if it isn't large enough to hold the pieces comfortably, work in batches), and cook the chicken for about 4 minutes on a side, or until golden. Transfer the chicken to a plate and season with salt and pepper.

When the onions are softened, add the saffron, crushing it between your fingers as you sprinkle it in, the rest of the spices, the bay leaf, honey, broth, and the remaining ½ cup water and stir to blend. Scatter the prunes over the mixture, then top with the chicken pieces, skin side up. Strew the potato cubes over the chicken and bring the liquid to a boil. Adjust the heat so that the broth simmers gently but steadily, cover, and cook for about 45 minutes, or until the chicken is cooked through and the potatoes are tender. Wait until you hit the 45-minute mark before lifting the lid—the tagine should bubble away undisturbed.

Taste the pan juices, and if you'd like to concentrate the flavors, remove the chicken and vegetables to a serving bowl, cover, and keep warm. Boil the liquid for a few minutes, keeping in mind that this is really a
jus,
not a sauce, and it's meant to be thin. If you removed the chicken and accompaniments, pour the
jus
over them; if everything is still in the tagine or casserole, you can leave them there for serving.

In either case, taste for salt and pepper, scatter over the chopped walnuts, if you're using them, and serve.

MAKES 4 SERVINGS

SERVING
Because of the sweet potatoes, you really don't have to serve anything else with the tagine—it's a true one-pot meal. However, since the sauce is so good, it's hard not to want to pour it over something more. Couscous is a natural choice, and a fine rice, like basmati or jasmine, is also very good, but my personal favorite is quinoa: I think the grain's toastiness goes really well with the tagine's spices.

STORING
As with so many braised dishes, this one reheats well the following day.

C
OUSCOUS
IS THE NAME OF BOTH
a teensy-grained semolina pasta and the fragrantly spiced North African stew that's served with it. Most times, the stew is spooned into one bowl, the couscous into another, and the broth from the stew into a third; the harissa comes to the table in a small pot, and there might even be a bowl of raisins and one of almonds too. You take some stew and some couscous and then, if you like it spicy, put a little harissa in the ladle or a small bowl, add some broth, swish it around, and pour the broth over your fixings. The raisins and nuts are for sprinkling. It's a congenial dish and, like other participatory dishes, one that's great for a crowd.