Moroccan Beef Kabobs

October and the election was four weeks out and the country was vibrating with an urgency I had never felt in a political season before. I was sixteen and could not vote. I was going to be able to vote in 2022, when I turned eighteen. That fact — being this close to the age of franchise and not there yet — was its own education in the difference between being affected by a system and having a voice in it.

I threw myself into what I could do: I wrote a piece for the school paper about youth civic engagement and why it mattered even for people who couldn't vote yet. I helped Destiny, who was also sixteen, put together a voter registration event at our neighborhood community center for adults in the neighborhood who had not registered. We spent a Saturday at a folding table outside the center with registration forms and a sign Destiny had made. We registered eleven people. Eleven people who might not have registered otherwise, who now could vote. That felt like something real in a week of very large things.

MawMaw Shirley was already registered, obviously. She had voted in every election she was eligible for since 1969 and she was not going to stop. She called me the day I told her about the registration event and said, "You organized something." I said it was just a table outside the community center. She said, "That's what organizing is. One table. And then you keep doing it." I wrote that down.

October cooking meant the return of slow, warm things: I made my chili, the one with ancho and guajillo and dark chocolate, on Sunday afternoon. The house smelled right. Daddy had two bowls. Some things you count on. Some things come back every fall the way they should and tell you that continuity is real and that is a gift.

The chili was the Sunday ritual that made that October feel survivable — warm spices, dark and smoky depths, something slow-building and certain when so much else felt uncertain. These Moroccan Beef Kabobs carry that same spirit: bold spices layered over beef, the kind of recipe that fills a kitchen with the smell of something grounded and real. After a Saturday at a folding table registering strangers to vote and a phone call from MawMaw Shirley that I keep returning to, I needed food that felt intentional — spiced with purpose, the same way that week was.

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 12 min | Total Time: 32 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

1 1/2 lbs ground beef (80/20)
3 cloves garlic, minced
1/4 cup fresh flat-leaf parsley, finely chopped
2 tablespoons fresh cilantro, finely chopped
1 1/2 teaspoons ground cumin
1 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/2 teaspoon ground coriander
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 tablespoon olive oil, for grill or pan
Flatbread or pita, for serving
Plain yogurt or tzatziki, for serving
Sliced cucumber, tomato, and red onion, for serving

Instructions

Soak skewers. If using wooden skewers, soak them in water for at least 20 minutes before use to prevent burning. Metal skewers need no preparation.
Mix the kefta. In a large bowl, combine ground beef, garlic, parsley, cilantro, cumin, smoked paprika, coriander, cinnamon, cayenne, salt, and black pepper. Mix with your hands until the spices are fully incorporated — do not overwork the meat.
Shape the kabobs. Divide the mixture into 8 equal portions. Mold each portion around a skewer into a log shape roughly 5 inches long, pressing firmly so the meat adheres and will hold its shape on the heat.
Preheat and oil. Heat a grill, grill pan, or cast-iron skillet over medium-high heat. Brush lightly with olive oil.
Cook the kabobs. Cook kabobs 5 to 6 minutes per side, turning once, until cooked through and nicely charred on the outside. Internal temperature should reach 160°F.
Rest and serve. Let kabobs rest 3 minutes before serving. Serve with flatbread, yogurt or tzatziki, and fresh sliced vegetables alongside.

Nutrition (per serving)

Moroccan Beef Kabobs — When the Spices Come Out and the Work Gets Done