Moroccan Chicken Thighs

Passover is in nine days and I am going to do it. I am going to do it alone — not alone, with Marvin, but without the family, without the twelve or fourteen or sixteen people who usually fill this table, because the pandemic means no gathering, no travel, no David from White Plains, no Rebecca from Manhattan, no grandchildren climbing on chairs and spilling grape juice and asking the four questions. The seder will be me and Marvin. Two people. Two settings. The haggadah and the seder plate and the matzo and the brisket and the soup and the entire apparatus of liberation theology, performed for an audience of one man who may not understand what we're doing but who has sat at this table for every seder for thirty-eight years and will sit at it for this one too.

I called David. He wanted to do a Zoom seder, all of us on screen. I said yes, because David's generation believes that technology can replicate presence, and I will let them believe this, because the belief is kind even if it's wrong. Nothing replicates presence. Nothing replicates the sound of twenty people saying the blessings together, the weight of a full table, the specific joy of watching a child find the afikomen. But a Zoom seder is better than no seder, and no seder is not an option, not for Ruth Feldman, not for the woman who has hosted Passover for thirty-eight years, not for the granddaughter of people who crossed an ocean to be free and whose freedom included the freedom to sit at a table and tell the story of that freedom, every year, without exception.

I have begun the Passover preparations. The dishes are washed. The chametz will be removed. The brisket is ordered. I will cook everything I always cook — the full spread, for two people, because the food is not calibrated to the headcount, the food is calibrated to the ritual, and the ritual is unchanged. I will cook for twenty and serve two and put the rest in containers and leave them on doorsteps — the Bermans, the Goldbergs, Harriet — because Passover food should be shared and the doorstep is the new table, and I will adapt to this as I have adapted to everything: by cooking through it.

The brisket is ordered and accounted for, but it’s the secondary dishes—the ones that fill the kitchen with warmth while you work—that keep the hands busy and the heart from getting too quiet. These Moroccan Chicken Thighs have become part of my Passover spread because the spices feel ancient in the best way: cumin and coriander and paprika, the kind of seasoning that belongs to the story we’re telling, the lands the Israelites came from and passed through. I’ll make the full batch. Some will go into containers for the Bermans and Harriet, and that is exactly as it should be.

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 45 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour | Servings: 6

Ingredients

6 bone-in, skin-on chicken thighs (about 3 lbs)
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1 teaspoon ground coriander
1 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 medium yellow onion, thinly sliced
4 garlic cloves, minced
1 can (14.5 oz) diced tomatoes, drained
1/2 cup chicken broth
1/3 cup pitted green olives
1/4 cup golden raisins
Fresh cilantro or parsley, for garnish
Lemon wedges, for serving

Instructions

Make the spice rub. In a small bowl, combine cumin, coriander, smoked paprika, cinnamon, ginger, cayenne, salt, and pepper. Pat chicken thighs dry with paper towels, then rub the spice mixture evenly over all sides of each piece.
Sear the chicken. Heat olive oil in a large oven-safe skillet or Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Add chicken thighs skin-side down and sear without moving them for 6–7 minutes, until the skin is deep golden and crisp. Flip and sear the other side for 3 minutes. Transfer to a plate.
Build the sauce. Reduce heat to medium. In the same pan, add the sliced onion and cook, stirring occasionally, for 5 minutes until softened. Add the garlic and cook 1 minute more, until fragrant. Stir in the drained diced tomatoes and chicken broth, scraping up any browned bits from the bottom of the pan.
Braise. Preheat your oven to 375°F. Nestle the seared chicken thighs back into the pan, skin-side up. Scatter the olives and golden raisins around the chicken. Transfer the pan to the oven and roast, uncovered, for 30–35 minutes, until the chicken is cooked through and registers 165°F at the thickest part.
Rest and serve. Remove from the oven and let rest 5 minutes. Taste the pan sauce and adjust seasoning if needed. Garnish generously with fresh cilantro or parsley and serve with lemon wedges alongside.

Nutrition (per serving)

Moroccan Chicken Thighs — Cooking the Full Spread, Even for Two