Spiced ‘Chicken a la King’ & sticky morning buns
Marie Kondo has a messy drawer somewhere. I'm convinced of it.
A few years ago, she convinced millions to hold their possessions and ask, "Does this spark joy?" Everyone folded clothes into neat rectangles and thanked discarded belongings for their service. Then she had three children and admitted that perfect tidiness isn't always possible. Which made me think: she’s human after all!
I suspect we all have these little contradictions. The marathon runner with a secret smoking habit. The dentist with the sweet tooth.
I am no different. In my recipes, I advocate meticulous precision. An 1/8th of a teaspoon of this, 1.5cm of that; a pan with a tight-fitting lid, and it better be 24cm in diameter! The medium onion must weigh 170g, or your whole ragout will go to pot.
Yet come to my home kitchen, and you’ll be hard pressed to find any fitting lid; the measuring spoons have vanished circa 2022, and the spice drawer is a constant mess (I only tidied it up recently, in fear of a looming Substack Live with David Lebovitz).
I'm the Marie Kondo of cooking, and my own kitchen is my messy drawer.
The way I square this circle is by telling myself that there’s a difference between cooking, which is what I do at home, and recipe testing, which is what I do at work. Cooking is messy and real and generally quite fuzzy. It thrives on whims and inconsistencies, and it can live with chaos. Testing recipes is like writing a musical score; it’s a blueprint for all future renditions. It comes with responsibility so it needs order.
This point is true to all cooking, but it is illustrated particularly well with spice blends. In reality, there isn’t a formula for Ras el hanout, for example, or for curry powder. Cooks and spice blenders tend to make their own choices, based on a loose profile, on family traditions and on what they like. This will change slightly, just like my home cooking does, every time they flavour a dish or make a new batch. It’s light hearted and jumbled.
Yet when it comes to writing a recipe, the casual and loose are suddenly formalised. As soon as you scribble it down, it becomes a natural truth that we are all supposed to follow.
I am telling you all this as a (very long) introduction to Hawaij, a Yemeni blend with both savoury and sweet versions. As expected, there is no unanimity on what needs to be included. Some say fenugreek is essential, others emphasise coriander, while a third thinks that cardamom should dominate.
I've loved hawaij for years, using the savoury mix in soups, roasted vegetables and stews, and the sweet version for coffee, desserts and cakes. It somehow makes dishes feel both warm and bright at the same time. I love it so much we've just put a hawaij paste into jars, (also available at Waitrose in the UK and Australia).
Today’s two recipes are written with precise measurements, as you’d expect. They showcase the versatility of hawaij and how much it can add to a weeknight chicken or to weekend-worthy sticky buns. Follow them to the T, or even better, mess with them to your heart’s content.
Hawaij ‘Chicken A La King’
There's something fascinating about forgotten recipes that go out of fashion. I don’t think they disappear because they are inherently bad; they just need a fresh look at. Hawaij transforms this retro dish completely - warming, aromatic, with extra depth. The raisins add bursts of sweetness against the creamy backdrop. The whole thing comes together in 15 minutes, perfect for a weeknight with no fuss.
Sticky morning buns with hawaij, lemon drizzle and salted pecans
The smell of spiced baking is my kind of therapy. Cardamom, cinnamon, and ginger fill the kitchen while the dough rises - it’s olfactory meditation.
Here, the sweet hawaij blend brings complexity that plain cinnamon can’t, lemon cuts through the richness, and salted pecans add the perfect crunch.