Couscous is steamed, not boiled. Equal volumes of grain and boiling liquid, a lid, and a fork — a pan of simmering water gives you paste.
Named from the ingredients as written, including those carried in from sub-recipes. This is not a guarantee — check the labels on what you actually buy, and note that a product’s recipe can change.
Put the couscous in a bowl with the 2 tablespoons of olive oil and the salt, and rub the oil through the grains with your fingers.
Coating each grain in oil before the liquid arrives is what keeps them separate. It is a two-minute job that decides the texture of the whole dish.
Pour over the boiling stock — equal volume to the couscous, no more — cover the bowl tightly with a plate or clingfilm and leave for 10 minutes.
Couscous is not boiled. It is tiny pasta, already steamed and dried at the factory, and all it needs is to reabsorb its water. A pan of simmering water turns it to paste and there is no way back.
Whisk the dressing ingredients together.
Uncover the couscous and rake it thoroughly with a fork until every grain is loose. Do not stir it with a spoon, which compacts it.
Pour over the dressing while the couscous is still warm and fork it through.
Fold in the tomatoes, cucumber, chickpeas, spring onions, apricots and herbs.
The herb quantity looks excessive and is not. This is a herb salad with couscous in it rather than the other way round, which is what makes it worth eating cold.
Scatter the pomegranate seeds over the top and taste for salt and lemon.
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Fresh and green from the herbs, sour from the lemon, with cumin warmth and sweetness from the apricots and pomegranate against it. Very little fat, which makes it taste light.
Mint and lemon, mostly. Cumin underneath.
Soft light grain with crunch from the cucumber and spring onion, chew from the apricot, and the pop of pomegranate seeds.
None.
Lemon and herb first, then cumin, then sweetness at the end from the fruit.
Room temperature. Fridge-cold flattens the herbs and the lemon.
Grilled lamb or chicken, roasted vegetables, or a bowl of hummus. It is a very good foil for anything charred.
Beginner.
Low.
A bowl, a plate to cover it, and a fork.
Lunch, a picnic, or alongside something grilled.
None, though it is a warm-weather dish by temperament.
Grains that separate cleanly under a fork and look distinct rather than clumped.
Light and separate. Wet and clumping means too much liquid; hard in the centre means not enough or not long enough.
Nothing unusual. As with any cooked grain, cool it and refrigerate it promptly rather than leaving it standing.
Clumped: rake harder with a fork and add a little more oil. Hard in the middle: another 50ml of boiling water, covered, five minutes. Bland: salt and considerably more lemon than seems right. Dry the next day: it keeps absorbing — add oil and lemon before serving.
Up to two days, with the herbs and pomegranate added fresh.
Three days in the fridge. Add the herbs fresh if making it more than a day ahead.
It can be steamed briefly to serve warm, which is closer to how couscous is eaten in North Africa.
No.
Excellent in a lunchbox, and good stuffed into a pitta with hummus.
Linear, and the one-to-one liquid ratio holds at any size.
Bulgur wheat works but must be soaked longer, about 25 minutes. Giant couscous is a different product entirely and IS boiled, for about 8 minutes. Quinoa for a gluten-free version, cooked as in the Quinoa Salad on this site.
Contains gluten — couscous is durum wheat pasta, which surprises people. Vegan if the honey is maple syrup. Dairy free, egg free and nut free as written.
Pomegranate molasses, if you can find it, is better than honey in the dressing and lasts a year.
Very cheap. Buy herbs as bunches from a greengrocer rather than in supermarket packets, which is where the cost is.
Entirely plant-based and among the lightest dishes in this collection. Chickpeas and other pulses fix nitrogen and improve the soil they grow in. The one thing worth attention is the herbs: buying them as bunches rather than in plastic packets cuts both packaging and the waste of a pot that dies in a week, and this recipe uses enough of them at once that a whole bunch actually gets used.
Good fibre from the chickpeas and vegetables, and a lot of fresh herb, which is genuinely nutritious rather than decorative.
Equal volumes, a lid, and twice as much herb as you think. That is all of it.
Couscous is Berber and North African; this salad is not.
Couscous, from the Berber seksu.
KOOS-koos.
From Berber seksu, thought to be onomatopoeic for the sound of the steam through the grain.
Couscous is a staple across Morocco, Algeria, Tunisia and Libya, where it is made from semolina rolled by hand and steamed several times in a couscoussier over a simmering stew, absorbing its aroma as it goes. It is a hot dish, communal, and central to family and religious meals — in 2020 UNESCO inscribed the knowledge and practices around couscous on its intangible cultural heritage list, jointly nominated by Algeria, Mauritania, Morocco and Tunisia. The instant product sold elsewhere is pre-steamed and dried, and the cold salad it appears in is a European invention.
Enormous in North Africa, where it is a Friday dish and a celebration dish. Modest here, where it is a lunchbox staple.
Packed lunches, buffets, and alongside grilled food.
Repeated steaming over a stew, which this recipe does not attempt and does not pretend to.
Pre-steamed instant couscous made a slow communal dish into a five-minute one, and the salad form separated it from the stew entirely.
Tabbouleh is the Levantine relative and is made with bulgur, not couscous, and with far more herb than grain — this salad's herb quantity is borrowed from it.
Sixty grams of soft herbs, which is more than most recipes call for and is the reason it tastes of something.
None.