Last September, I was on the jury of a couscous competition in San Vito lo Capo, near Trapani in Sicily. Fish couscous is the local dish in the fishing village turned holiday resort. Songs and poems are written about it. It figures in legends and proverbs. There was always an annual festa del couscous, then it went international and every country that has a couscous tradition was invited to participate. The street was in carnival mood with lights, musicians, cooking demonstrations and tastings. The competition was carried out with pomp and ceremony. Each delegation marched with their couscous and their flag, accompanied by their national anthem.
The Italians won. Theirs was sublime. One of the volunteers was moved to tears when the Israelis (with a new-style couscous) and the Palestinians (with lamb stuffed with couscous) jointly won second prize.
A couscous that I saw being prepared in London 30 years ago is the one I always remember. I had taken a friend of mine to a young Moroccan woman's party. Three weeks later, Fatima called to say they had become lovers and would I join them for a couscous dinner. It was at his home and there were a few of us. We arrived at eight. She had barely started cooking. We sat around the kitchen table. While she cut up the meat and chicken, we lent a hand with the vegetables and a huge pile of herbs. The cooking took two hours, at least. Our appetites were aroused to a high pitch by the sight of every ingredient going in at different times, and by the mingled aromas of herbs and spices as the grain steamed over the broth.
Couscous is fashionable here now. Chefs use it in all kinds of inventive ways. For people at home, it can be the easiest thing to prepare in advance. There is something about the dish that inspires conviviality, while evoking the exotic charms of North Africa, and it is quite spectacular.
While for us it is becoming like pasta - a base on which everything goes - in Morocco, it remains wedded to tradition. Couscous is served there on all great occasions, both happy and sad. It is the food sent to the mosque to be distributed to the poor and the celebratory dish served at the very end of great feasts to make sure that no one could be left hungry. Usually, though, it is the musicians and the tolbas - the men who come to pray in expectation of a good meal - who get to eat it. It is also the traditional Friday family meal where any vegetables left over from the week's provisions go in.
Couscous is associated with the indigenous Berbers, who call it kesksou. In the Berber lands, steaming in a clay colander placed over a boiling pot is an age-old practice. Apart from using hardwheat semolina, they make couscous with grains such as barley, millet and maize and they also cook pasta and rice by steaming.
Until not very long ago, every family bought its durum hard wheat at the market and took it to the local mill to be ground to the degree of fineness they preferred. Back home, it went through a process of moistening and coating, or 'rolling', with fine flour. It took hours, but it was a day of fun and rejoicing when the women gossiped and laughed and sang. Nowadays, very few women roll their own grain, even in the countryside. The process has been industrialised and they buy it ready-prepared or an instant pre-cooked variety. Those who have the home-made couscous for a special event call professional artisans to the house to make it.
We have only the pre-cooked, instant variety in our supermarkets. If you treat it well, it will give very good results. The aim is to make it swell and become light and airy, each grain soft, delicate, velvety and separate from its neighbour.
There are many regional and seasonal versions of the dish. It can be very simple, with the grain and one vegetable alone, and it can be quite grandiose, with baby pigeons in a saffron and ginger sauce sitting on a mountain of grain with a scattering of almonds and sultanas. The common soup or stew is with meat - usually lamb, or chicken - and a number of vegetables. Chickpeas are often added, and sometimes raisins, too. Many spices are used, but sparingly, so that one can hardly define each individual aroma. In Algeria and Tunisia, a fiery sauce called harissa is prepared separately with some of the broth mixed with the chilli pepper paste, or with ground chilli pepper. This sauce is served beside the couscous.
Couscous also makes a great stuffing for chicken or meat. A 'fine' grain is normally used for stuffing, but the usual 'medium' one will also do. You can find the fine one at Le Maroc, 94 Golborne Road, London W10, and in other Moroccan stores.
Roast Shoulder of Lamb with Couscous and Date Stuffing This is sumptuous and extremely easy. The meat is cooked long and slow to melting tenderness, so that you can pull it off with your fingers. The stuffing is sweet, with dates and raisins, and crunchy with almonds. The grain needs a good amount of butter as there is no sauce, but you can substitute oil. Serves 4 - for a party of eight, just double the quantities.
1 shoulder of lamb weighing about 1.5kg
Salt and pepper
250g fine or medium couscous
1 tbsp orange-blossom water
1 tsp ground cinnamon
2 tbsps sunflower or vegetable oil
150g dates, pitted and cut into small pieces
50g raisins
100g coarsely chopped blanched almonds
65g butter, cut into pieces
To decorate: 8 blanched almonds 8 dates, pitted
Put the shoulder, skin side up, in a baking dish or roasting pan, sprinkle with salt and pepper, and roast in a 175ÁC-180ÁC oven for about 3¼ hours or until very tender. Pour off the fat after about 2 hours.
For the stuffing, put the couscous in another baking dish, add the same volume of warm water, mixed with half a teaspoon of salt, the blossom water and the cinnamon, and stir well. After about 10 minutes, add the oil, and rub the grain between your hands to air it and break up any lumps.
Mix in the remaining ingredients, cover with foil, and put in the oven with the lamb for the last half hour or earlier. Take it out halfway through and turn over gently with a spoon, so that the melted butter is absorbed evenly. Add salt to taste, if necessary.
Serve the meat and the stuffing. Decorate with the dates, each pitted and stuffed with an almond.
To order a copy of The Food of Italy by Claudia Roden, for £22 plus p&p (rrp £25), call the Observer book service on 0870 066 7989. Published by Chatto & Windus
· Nigel Slater returns next week
