Homemaker, MD

A couple of years ago, my husband gave me a tagine for Christmas. We had a number of medical friends who had just spent time in Northern Africa treating the ill and loving the lost (and ended up immunizing sheep as well!). Between my husband’s hospital requirements and my pregnancy, neither of us were able to join them that particular year, but the stories they brought back inspired prayer for the few Christians that do live and labor there.

One story our friends told was described by one of the missionaries who live in the region. He and his wife had come to North Africa to spread the Good News of the gospel of Christ. But their first weeks and months were frought with struggle, pain, and discouragement. She had fallen and been seriously injured, and the challenges to building relationships, not to mention sharing Christ, had seemed almost impossible. One day, a local villager they had been able to befriend wanted to show the missionary his garden. Intrigued by the possibility of anything green growing in the rocky, barren and dry landscape, the missionary followed him. Assured the spot was not far away, the villager led him several miles before they finally stopped at the villager’s home. He waved his arm to indicate the hill behind his home and proudly indicated that the hillside was his garden. The missionary looked, and saw that the dusty hillside had been carefully cleared of every rock. The ground had been broken up and plowed, the hostile soil carefully furrowed. But not a single spot of green or color broke the expanse of dry ground. He could see nothing growing. He turned to the villager, confused. 

“But is it dry, and nothing is growing.”

The villager looked at him with confidence, “Yes, right now it is dry. But one day, perhaps it will rain. When it does, my garden is ready.”

The missionary returned home stunned by the blind faith of preparing a garden in what could only be currently described as a desert, and in a moment of clarity saw the allegory the villager had painted, unknowingly, to the missionary. He and his wife were preparing a garden in the desert as well, and finding the soil to be rocky, dry and unwelcoming did not mean that the rain would never come. 

Those missionaries and many others labor in dark places to till the soil, remove the rocks, and plant the seeds, as they wait and hope for the rain to come, for Hope to spring forth from the barren ground. They covet our prayers.

My little family has “international night” every couple of weeks or so, when I prepare the food of a particular part of the world, we pray for the people there, missionaries we know and those lost in darkness, and try to educate ourselves a little more about what that country is like. As our daughter grows older we hope to cultivate a love for the nations through exercises like this.

This past weekend I cooked Moroccan, and even had plenty to share with friends. Of all the Moroccan tagines I’ve cooked, I think this time I uncovered my favorite combination of spices and ingredients. Moroccan cuisine is known for the sweet taste of fruit and the savory warm spices. It’s not a hot type of spicy, so if you are aren’t into your mouth being on fire don’t worry, just keep the cayenne pepper to a minimum.  If you don’t have a tagine, the traditional moroccan oven of choice, you could easily cook this in a covered non-stick pot on the stovetop. I’ve also heard of people using slow-cookers for moroccan dishes.

This recipe is an absolute MUST to try. It is sweet, savory, and quite healthy. It is perhaps my new FAVORITE dish to make. If you don’t own some of these spices, they are worth the investment, since you’ll make this dish over and over again! Everyone loved it, including my 15 month old!

Moroccan Tagine

1. Heat the olive oil over medium high heat in a large non-sticking pot (or tagine base). Brown the garlic, chicken, and onion, until the onion is soften and the chicken browned on all sides, about 10 minutes

2. Once the onion is soft and the chicken browned, add the butternut squash, garbanzo beans, tomatoes and juice, broth, lemon juice, and apricots. Add the rest of the spices listed above, and mix well.

3. Allow the mixture to come to a boil, then adjust the heat to a low simmer. Cover and allow to cook slowly until the vegetables are soft and the chiken done. This will take around 30 minutes.

You can serve this by dishing it over some plain cooked couscous, or just rice. In Morocco, people eat this sort of thing with their bare hands, but you can use a fork and spoon. To complete the Moroccan theme enjoy some mint tea after dinner. To learn more about Morroco and other coutries at your own family’s “international night,” Operation World has a great website with details to help you pray for each country. Just click on the continent and choose the country.