Israeli Couscous Salad with Artichokes and Roasted Red Peppers

Passover is Saturday and the house is in full preparation mode — the kitchen has been transformed from its everyday state into its Passover state, which is a parallel universe where flour is contraband and bread is exile and the countertops have been scrubbed with the thoroughness of a crime scene investigation, because chametz (leavened food) must be eliminated, and Ruth Feldman eliminates chametz the way she eliminates run-on sentences in student essays: completely, mercilessly, without remorse.

The brisket is marinating. The gefilte fish is ground and shaped and waiting. The matzo balls are rolled — forty of them, because I always make too many and too many is the correct number, because leftover matzo balls are breakfast food, reheated in broth, eaten at the kitchen table on the morning after the seder while the house is quiet and the dishes are washed and the table is bare and you think about what happened the night before, which was: you told the story. You ate the food. You remembered. The morning-after matzo ball is the epilogue. Every story needs an epilogue.

I made charoset — the sweet paste of apples, walnuts, wine, and cinnamon that represents the mortar the enslaved Jews used to build Pharaoh's cities, which is a dark origin story for what is essentially a fruit dip, but Judaism is not afraid of dark origin stories. Judaism is built on dark origin stories. We were slaves. We were freed. We eat the charoset and remember the slavery and taste the sweetness and hold both at once, because holding darkness and sweetness simultaneously is not a contradiction — it is a practice, and we have practiced it for five thousand years, and I practice it every Passover, and every Passover the practice gets more personal, because this year the slavery is Marvin's disease and the sweetness is the seven people who are coming to my table, and the charoset contains both, and I eat it, and I remember, and I go on.

The charoset was finished and resting in the refrigerator, the matzo balls were rolled and counted, and I found myself with that rare quiet hour before the chaos — the hour where I always make one more thing, the thing that isn’t strictly required but feels necessary, because a seder table should have abundance. This Israeli couscous salad has been on my Passover table for years now: the roasted red peppers bring the sweetness, the artichokes bring the brine and the depth, and together they hold the same two notes I was already holding — light and dark, celebration and remembrance, the mortar and the wine. It comes together in thirty minutes, it feeds a crowd, and it tastes even better the next day, when the quiet returns.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 15 min | Total Time: 30 min | Servings: 8

Ingredients

2 cups Israeli (pearl) couscous
2 1/2 cups low-sodium vegetable broth
1 (14 oz) can artichoke hearts, drained and roughly chopped
1 (12 oz) jar roasted red peppers, drained and sliced into thin strips
1/3 cup Kalamata olives, pitted and halved
3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, divided
3 tablespoons fresh lemon juice (about 1 large lemon)
2 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 teaspoon lemon zest
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes (optional)
1/2 cup fresh flat-leaf parsley, roughly chopped
1/4 cup fresh basil leaves, torn
3 oz crumbled feta cheese (optional, omit for pareve)

Instructions

Toast the couscous. Heat 1 tablespoon of olive oil in a medium saucepan over medium heat. Add the Israeli couscous and stir frequently for 2—3 minutes until the pearls are lightly golden and smell nutty.
Cook the couscous. Pour in the vegetable broth and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to low, cover, and simmer for 10—12 minutes until the couscous is tender and the liquid is absorbed. Spread onto a sheet pan or large plate and let cool for 10 minutes.
Make the dressing. Whisk together the remaining 2 tablespoons of olive oil, lemon juice, lemon zest, minced garlic, salt, black pepper, and red pepper flakes in a small bowl until combined.
Combine the salad. Transfer the cooled couscous to a large bowl. Add the artichoke hearts, roasted red pepper strips, and olives. Pour the dressing over and toss gently to coat everything evenly.
Finish and rest. Fold in the fresh parsley and basil. Taste and adjust seasoning. Let the salad sit at room temperature for at least 10 minutes before serving so the flavors can meld. Add crumbled feta on top just before serving, if using.
Make ahead. This salad holds well covered in the refrigerator for up to 3 days. Bring to room temperature before serving and refresh with a small squeeze of lemon juice and a drizzle of olive oil if needed.

Nutrition (per serving)

Israeli Couscous Salad with Artichokes and Roasted Red Peppers — A Table Set for Memory and for Seven