Our farm had a broad swath of front lawn, peppered with long-standing shady elm trees. An old-fashioned wooden picnic table lived under one of these leafy umbrellas. “Having a picnic” simply meant taking our meal outdoors. Given that this was an earlier time and we raised our own meat, the dinner usually featured a slab of grilled meat known as the “set piece,” or main dish. It became a grand celebration on the evenings when my dad brought home a watermelon or we all strained muscles on the hand-crank ice cream machine.
I always had my own private celebration when the grill made its entrance from the garage out onto the driveway. I have no idea how my mother developed her skills on the charcoal grill. While she had a small repertoire of recipes, the dishes she grilled were masterpieces. Crisp crusted yet rare steaks. An incredible foil wrapped, slow grilled chuck roast with a succulent sauce of grilled onions and tomatoes. Juicy Asian marinated grilled chicken. Thick rosemary infused pork chops. There were soaked wood chips for smoking, drip pans, direct and indirect sides to the grill- you get the picture. She was not one to fling a hunk of meat over the fire, give it a squirt and hope for the best. (That is actually my style, as I did not follow in her footsteps on the whole grilling routine…)
Mom’s grill was no prize, either. It was an ancient metal event, boxy and black, encrusted with years of grease and BBQ goo, whatever that may have been… I suspect that it was actually those dicey substances that were holding the metal together. BBQ cement of a sort. I don’t know where it came from, but she used it for many years with delicious results. Sadly, while I loved the products, I never learned how to cook them myself. While I might season or marinate today, my husband mans the charcoal around here. For which we are all exceedingly thankful.
We are stalwart year-round grillers, no matter our locale of the moment. Midwestern rain and snow were overcome to grill throughout the winter months. Here in the desert southwest, the neighbors regard us with great suspicion in the mercilessly hot summer as my husband trudges out to start the fire. He prays that it kindles into coals that will actually cook something, then races back inside until time to put the to-be-grilled items over the coals. Since our meat consumption has been reined in considerably, this is usually fish or vegetables; occasionally steak, which we portion out into a summer salad. Grilled chicken also makes the cut, remaining one of my favorites from summers on the farm. While my mother’s recipe had a very simple soy based marinade, my usual grilled chicken marinates in a more complex Middle Eastern style marinade that features my preserved lemons. Yeah, still pushin’ the lemons. Somebody around here has to do it.
Moroccan Spiced Grilled Chicken
Ingredients
- 2 tablespoons diced preserved lemon peel
- 2 tablespoons lemon brine from preserved lemons
- ¼ cup lemon juice
- ¼ cup olive oil
- 3 green onions chopped
- ¼ cup chopped parsley
- ½ teaspoon coriander
- ½ teaspoon turmeric
- 1- teaspoon sesame oil
- 1 teaspoon dried oregano
- ½ teaspoon salt
- ½ teaspoon pepper
- 2 teaspoons Sambal Oelek
- 1 whole chicken cut into serving sized pieces
Instructions
- Combine all ingredients except chicken and blend well. Pour over the chicken pieces and marinate, refrigerated for at least 4 hours, or up to overnight.
- Remove chicken from marinade and grill over medium hot gas or charcoal fire until cooked through and juices run clear.
