Throwback Thursday: Chermoula chicken with dried figs and other fruity ideas

Before there were tin cans, freezers, or the means by which we can process a food into a lesser version of itself, there was dried fruit. The first dried fruit that comes to most minds is the raisin, which accounts for half of the world’s dried fruit production, followed by the humble date, prune and fig, with the morsels beloved of South Africans – apricots, peaches, apples and pears – bringing up the rear. Many of us have flung any or all of those dried fruits into a chicken curry, with the more adventurous among us using them to make chutney.

What could be more ordinary or ubiquitous than the dried grape, the dried fruit that invented itself; whoever was the first human to gaze upon the shrivelled grapes on a neglected vine could claim to have discovered the raisin, but not invented it. The raisin is the original accidental food, created by neglect by whoever first forgot to pick the fresh, ripe grapes that hung abundantly from the vine.

Chew a raisin and you’re tasting a grape whose flavour has intensified and sweetened; is it a better grape for having had the sun and time to dry it out, yet make it more delicious? It loses that juicy burst of joy on biting into a fresh grape, but arguably it gains so much more. But the fresh grape exists only for that instant hit, unless it’s to be made into wine; the dried grape, the raisin, can last almost indefinitely. They need no preservatives, and there’s no need for a label to advise you to eat them by a certain date. Just store them until you need them, although for optimal flavour and texture I wouldn’t leave them for more than a year.

There’s much more potential for dried fruit than the stewed fruit served for breakfast when you were growing up, with the better versions having been simmered with cinnamon and citrus peel and a bit of brown sugar. Nor do they need to be relegated to the Christmas cake and plum pudding and then be forgotten about for another year, but for a brief outing at Easter in the hot cross buns.  

Dried fruits are one of those things that can be divisive, like coriander leaves (cilantro/dhania) and marzipan. I’m always amazed to hear someone say they hate Christmas fruit mince, but the intensified flavour and perhaps texture of dried fruit is not to everyone’s taste. If that’s you, you could revisit such ingredients and use them sparingly so that they are not the dominant ingredient of a dish. 

I’ve made fruity sauces for pork and game involving dried fruit along with a liqueur or other strong liquor, and herbs for balance, that have been a hit with friends who would pull a sour face if you offered them a slice of Christmas cake or a fruit mince pie. Such sauces can be a match for chicken too, or used in a stuffing.

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