Learn the authentic Moroccan technique for steaming couscous. Discover how to achieve light, fluffy texture, and rich flavor, transforming your meals with this traditional method passed down through generations.
Dammit! All my life I've been doing it wrong, and didn't know I'd got this far without ever experiencing couscous zen! And this, after living in the Middle East for nearly 20 years! Thanks for a beautiful, informative and 'granular' post! :-)
Thanks, Will… Couscous is a serious matter in North Africa - especially Morocco where it is considered a national treasure. Most people don’t bother rolling their own couscous these days, but steaming it…well…that is how it’s supposed to be done and there isn’t a need to turn this majestic preparation into a McDonald’s-like fast food porridge… I hope you give it a try - I’m certain you will do it justice!
I got to love couscous when I lived in Algeria for a few months. But we always bought it from shops/restaurants, they gave us the couscoussier (I looked up your link, it looked exactly like that but was made from ceramics), and when all the couscous was eaten up we'd return it or exchange it for the next batch. Thank you for the trip down memory lane! Not sure that I have the patience for your method, but it sounds like it may well be worth it. And your memories -- so enjoyable to read!
What a fascinating story! It is so cool that the shops/restaurants lend you a ceramic couscoussier when ordering a meal. What a great customer retention idea!
I'm thrilled I sparked some memories of your own - food is a wonderful conduit to stimulate things we experienced but haven’t thought about for a long time.
This is so helpful, Jack. I was recently in Cagliari (Sardinia), where I had fregola with seafood. Am I correct that fregola is essentially toasted couscous? I rarely make couscous at home, just because I don’t have any experience cooking it. I may give it a go, because I really do enjoy it.
Thanks, Domenica. appreciate your thoughts and comments.
Some cooks and writers regard fregola as a variation of couscous. In terms of looks and cooking method, I find it to be comparable to Israeli or pearl couscous. These larger types of couscous are not the same. The larger pellet-sized variations of couscous are much closer to risoni – a rice-shaped pasta. The heartiness of these variations makes them suitable for being boiled or stewed rather than steamed. Much smaller North African couscous turns into a mush or porridge if boiled.
I hope you give the steamed variation a try – experiencing the process is marvelous and leads to incredibly light and fluffy couscous. Steamed couscous might be excellent when preparing a Tunisian-inspired Couscous Trapanese.
Thank you for going into such painstaking detail! A timely reminder that food prepared with love and care can be a thing of wonder.
It brings back memories of the way nasi lemak (coconut rice) was traditionally prepared in Southeast Asia - kukus (steamed) in straw baskets over a charcoal fire, not just tossed in a rice cooker.
You had to soak the grains, steam, cool, fluff, steam, cool, fluff, then soak in coconut milk, steam, cool, fluff... And repeat if the rice still wasn't perfectly done or infused with coconut. A true kukus was heaven on a banana leaf.
Thanks for reading and contributing a wonderful and perfect example of what I was trying to convey. Indeed, food prepared with a lot of love and care is exactly right, and an excellent way to put it...
Your description of nasi lemak and kukus sounds terrific - thank you for sharing those mental images!
Ahh what you put into the food shows. Sadly many people have never experienced the difference.
I can't claim my mum was the best cook in the world. She taught herself to cook, and mealtimes could be quite hit and miss.
But she was determined to get it right, and we got to taste every change she made along the way. Some worked, some didn't - I think she battled with her beef rendang for 3 years. It didn't matter, what did matter was knowing how much of herself she poured into every dish.
And she did get there in the end - I still make her rendang with pride, pounding all the spices by hand and frying the kerisik (grated coconut) over a slow fire for almost an hour.
I’ve learned a lot about couscous in this post, Jack. It’s a blessing to have so many wonderful food memories. Thanks for sharing them and your exceptional food knowledge.
Dammit! All my life I've been doing it wrong, and didn't know I'd got this far without ever experiencing couscous zen! And this, after living in the Middle East for nearly 20 years! Thanks for a beautiful, informative and 'granular' post! :-)
Thanks, Will… Couscous is a serious matter in North Africa - especially Morocco where it is considered a national treasure. Most people don’t bother rolling their own couscous these days, but steaming it…well…that is how it’s supposed to be done and there isn’t a need to turn this majestic preparation into a McDonald’s-like fast food porridge… I hope you give it a try - I’m certain you will do it justice!
I got to love couscous when I lived in Algeria for a few months. But we always bought it from shops/restaurants, they gave us the couscoussier (I looked up your link, it looked exactly like that but was made from ceramics), and when all the couscous was eaten up we'd return it or exchange it for the next batch. Thank you for the trip down memory lane! Not sure that I have the patience for your method, but it sounds like it may well be worth it. And your memories -- so enjoyable to read!
Thanks for reading and contributing, Jessica.
What a fascinating story! It is so cool that the shops/restaurants lend you a ceramic couscoussier when ordering a meal. What a great customer retention idea!
I'm thrilled I sparked some memories of your own - food is a wonderful conduit to stimulate things we experienced but haven’t thought about for a long time.
This is so helpful, Jack. I was recently in Cagliari (Sardinia), where I had fregola with seafood. Am I correct that fregola is essentially toasted couscous? I rarely make couscous at home, just because I don’t have any experience cooking it. I may give it a go, because I really do enjoy it.
Thanks, Domenica. appreciate your thoughts and comments.
Some cooks and writers regard fregola as a variation of couscous. In terms of looks and cooking method, I find it to be comparable to Israeli or pearl couscous. These larger types of couscous are not the same. The larger pellet-sized variations of couscous are much closer to risoni – a rice-shaped pasta. The heartiness of these variations makes them suitable for being boiled or stewed rather than steamed. Much smaller North African couscous turns into a mush or porridge if boiled.
I hope you give the steamed variation a try – experiencing the process is marvelous and leads to incredibly light and fluffy couscous. Steamed couscous might be excellent when preparing a Tunisian-inspired Couscous Trapanese.
Thank you for going into such painstaking detail! A timely reminder that food prepared with love and care can be a thing of wonder.
It brings back memories of the way nasi lemak (coconut rice) was traditionally prepared in Southeast Asia - kukus (steamed) in straw baskets over a charcoal fire, not just tossed in a rice cooker.
You had to soak the grains, steam, cool, fluff, steam, cool, fluff, then soak in coconut milk, steam, cool, fluff... And repeat if the rice still wasn't perfectly done or infused with coconut. A true kukus was heaven on a banana leaf.
Thanks for reading and contributing a wonderful and perfect example of what I was trying to convey. Indeed, food prepared with a lot of love and care is exactly right, and an excellent way to put it...
Your description of nasi lemak and kukus sounds terrific - thank you for sharing those mental images!
Ahh what you put into the food shows. Sadly many people have never experienced the difference.
I can't claim my mum was the best cook in the world. She taught herself to cook, and mealtimes could be quite hit and miss.
But she was determined to get it right, and we got to taste every change she made along the way. Some worked, some didn't - I think she battled with her beef rendang for 3 years. It didn't matter, what did matter was knowing how much of herself she poured into every dish.
And she did get there in the end - I still make her rendang with pride, pounding all the spices by hand and frying the kerisik (grated coconut) over a slow fire for almost an hour.
Beautiful!
I’ve learned a lot about couscous in this post, Jack. It’s a blessing to have so many wonderful food memories. Thanks for sharing them and your exceptional food knowledge.
Wow, I didn't know that is such work to make couscous properly. Thank you for sharing your wisdom.