I wanted North Africa with no work. And it worked. I tempered the spices then fried the bnlss sknlss chicken breasts in the pan with some preserved lemons (I’m on a kick, plus I have an open jar of them.) and some onions. It wasn’t, you know, exactly like dinner in a Berber tent or a trip to the Kasbah, but it was good enough to scratch the North African itch without the annoying camels.
Lks gr8t, chkn gud, v tsty.