Name: Authentic Moroccan Chicken Tagine Recipe
Prep time: 25 min
Cook time: 1 h 15 min
Total time: 1 h 40 min
Yield: 4 servings
Cuisine: Moroccan
Ingredients: 1.5 kg chicken pieces (bone-in, skin removed); 2 tablespoons olive oil; 2 large onions, finely sliced; 3 cloves garlic, minced; 1 teaspoon ground ginger; 1 teaspoon ground cumin; 1 teaspoon ground turmeric; 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon; 1 teaspoon paprika; ½ teaspoon ground black pepper; 1 teaspoon salt; 1 preserved lemon, quartered; 150 g green olives, pitted; ½ cup fresh cilantro, chopped; ½ cup fresh parsley, chopped; 250 ml chicken broth

Let Me Tell You About the Time My Cousin Ate Four Plates...

You know those recipes that have a story stuck to them like a post-it on a fridge? Well, this Authentic Moroccan Chicken Tagine Recipe is that for my family. First time I made it, my cousin Jamal ate so much he took a nap on the living room rug (true story, and not even the weirdest thing that’s happened during dinner at my place). Every time I cook this dish now, someone brings up that story; it’s become a bit of an inside joke. Anyway, if you’re in the mood for a dinner that’s part comfort food, part North African adventure, and all-around delicious, you’ve landed in the right spot. And hey, if you’re not afraid of a little mess in the kitchen (because who actually keeps their stovetop spotless while browning chicken?), let’s dive in together.

Why You'll Love This (or at Least, Why I Do)

I make this when I want to trick my family into thinking I spent all day slaving over the stove (spoiler: most of the time, it just simmers while I scroll through cat videos). My family goes crazy for this because the chicken gets all fall-apart tender and the spices just kind of dance around your mouth—especially if you’re generous with the preserved lemons. And... sometimes I throw in extra olives because my little brother will stage a coup if I don’t. Also, there’s something about the aroma that makes even the grumpiest person in the house wander into the kitchen, asking if dinner’s ready yet (even if it’s only 3pm!).

Here’s What You’ll Need (and How I Cheat Sometimes)

8 chicken thighs (skin-on, bone-in for full flavor, but I’ll swap for drumsticks or boneless thighs if that’s what’s in the fridge)
1 large onion, finely chopped (red or yellow, whatever’s on sale)
3 cloves garlic, smashed (I bought pre-minced garlic once, didn’t hate it)
1 teaspoon ground ginger
1 teaspoon ground turmeric (sometimes I use more by accident—no harm done)
1 teaspoon paprika (smoked is nice but regular will do)
1 teaspoon ground cumin
½ teaspoon ground cinnamon (my grandmother swore by Ceylon, but I just use what’s in the cupboard)
Salt and pepper to taste (I just eyeball it, honestly)
1 preserved lemon, quartered and seeds removed (or regular lemon zest if you’re in a pinch)
1 heaping cup green olives (pitted or not—it’s up to how much you trust your dental work)
2 cups chicken broth or water (I’ve used bouillon cubes, too—no judgment)
2 tablespoon olive oil (any neutral oil works, but olive keeps it classic)
A handful of fresh cilantro and/or parsley, chopped (I usually do both; sometimes I forget one and it’s still good)

How I Pull This Together (and Where I Sneak a Taste)

Start by heating the olive oil in a big heavy-bottomed pot or your actual tagine if you’ve got one (I don’t always bother, my Dutch oven works fine). Toss in the onions and cook on medium until they’re soft. If they get a bit brown, I call that ‘flavor’.
Throw in the garlic, ginger, turmeric, paprika, cumin, and cinnamon; stir it all till your kitchen smells like you’ve booked a one-way ticket to Marrakech. Sometimes I sneeze from the spices—totally normal.
Season the chicken with salt and pepper. Nestle the pieces into the onion and spice mixture, browning them on each side. Don’t worry if they stick a little; it’s all part of the magic.
Now pour in the broth (or water, or whatever’s handy), and add the preserved lemon quarters and most of the olives (I keep a few for snacking while it simmers, no regrets). Bring it up to a gentle simmer.
Cover and let it cook for about 45 minutes on low—this is where I wander off and, inevitably, forget to set a timer. You’ll know it’s ready when the chicken just about falls off the bone if you poke it with a fork.
Take the lid off for the last 10 minutes if you want the sauce to thicken up a bit (I like it saucy, so I sometimes skip this). Taste and adjust the seasoning—this is where I usually sneak a taste (or three).
Scatter the chopped herbs and the rest of the olives on top, then serve straight form the pot (because honestly, who wants extra dishes?).

Notes from a Frequently Distracted Cook

If it looks too watery, just let it simmer uncovered for a bit longer—don’t panic.
I used to think you had to peel the preserved lemon, but actually, the rind is where all the flavor hides. Just chuck in the whole thing (seeds out).
Once, I made this with boneless breast meat; it was fine, but nowhere near as juicy. I mean, live and learn.

Variations I’ve Tried (the Good, the Meh, and the Oops)

Swapping in chickpeas for a half-veggie version—pretty good, especially if you’re running low on chicken. But don’t skip the lemon.
Adding dried apricots: my aunt loved it; my dad said it tasted “like dessert with chicken in it” (not a compliment, apparently).
One time, I got wild and tried it with lamb. Not bad, but it’s a different vibe—definitely richer and needs more time simmering.

Equipment (But Don’t Stress Over Fancy Gear)

If you’ve got a tagine, brilliant, use it. But honestly, I make this in a Dutch oven or even a big saucepan—once I made it in a slow cooker (not traditional, but hey, it worked). Just cover it tightly and you’re good.

Authentic Moroccan Chicken Tagine Recipe

How to Store It (Though It Rarely Lasts That Long)

Tuck leftovers in an airtight container and stash in the fridge; they’ll keep for about 2-3 days. Honestly, this gets even tastier the next day, if you can believe it. In my house, leftovers are basically a myth.

How We Serve It (And Why I Always Make Extra Bread)

I usually serve this with fluffy couscous or a crusty baguette (which is not traditional, but it soaks up the sauce like a champ). Sometimes we’ll have it with plain rice if someone’s being picky. Oh, and a simple salad or just a pile of fresh mint leaves on the side is great. My uncle swears by pickled turnips as an extra zingy side—try it if you’re feeling adventurous.

Pro Tips Learned the Hard Way

I once tried rushing the browning step and regretted it—the chicken tasted flat. Take the time for color, or you’ll miss that depth.
Don’t over-salt at the start. Between the olives and the preserved lemon, things get salty quick. Actually, I think it’s best to taste at the end before adding more salt.

FAQ (Because My Friends Ask All the Time…)

Can I use regular lemons if I don’t have preserved? Totally—just use a bit more zest and maybe a squirt of juice at the end. Different, but still bright.
Is it spicy? Not really; it’s warm and fragrant, not hot. Add a pinch of chili flakes if you want some kick (I do sometimes, for a bit of drama).
What if I don’t have a tagine? Use whatever big, heavy pot you’ve got. No need to buy special equipment—save your pennies for good olives!
Can I freeze it? Yep, but I find the olives get a little weird in texture. Still, the flavor holds up.
How do you reheat it? Either gently on the stove or in the microwave—don’t blast it or the chicken gets dry. Actually, I like it cold, straight from the fridge sometimes (don’t judge).

And if you want to go full Moroccan, check out this local cooking tour—makes me want to hop on a plane every time. Also, my favorite couscous hack came from Serious Eats (their couscous is fluffier than a cloud in July).

Anyway—make this, tweak it, own it. And if your cousin falls asleep on the rug, don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Authentic Moroccan Chicken Tagine Recipe