CROUCH END - NOT SO FAR FROM MOROCCO AFTER ALL
I always thought Crouch End was one of those places that didn't really exist , like Surbiton. A sort of joke way of summing up a whole area of London through a funny name. I have since learned that it does exist and that it takes itself very seriously as an oasis of gentility unsullied by a tube station. Here is Bouga, a Moroccan restaurant that, once you push past the heavy doors, is redolent of the town it's named after with incenses and spices heavy on the air. We're here to have a simple cookery demo from Chef Fatima Antari who has previously worked in the Royal Mansour Hotel in Casablanca. Like many top Moroccan chefs Fatima is female as is her assistant and they both work out of a small kitchen open to the restaurant.
Perched on stools at the pass we peer into Fatima's lair as she shovels feta cheese, great handfuls of fresh mint and a rather hard and rubbery North African goat's cheese into a blender which makes the noise one always associates with traditional North Africa - a blender on deafening full power. I jest of course, it takes the hard work out of what must have been a difficult job. The resulting paste is blobbed in spoon sized lumps onto a half-round of folded filo pastry, one end is anointed with egg wash and, making it look easy, Fatima detly folds up the pastry to create the classic triangular Borek. A quick dunk in the deep fat fryer and perfect liitle parcels are scorching our hands as we juggle them into our mouth. Manager George looks on, " I like them best when they have cooled down a little," he observes dryly.
Next Fatima makes the classic tagine with chicken, olives, preserved lemons and saffron. The chicken pieces have been marinading overnight with the ingredients and now are removed before being flung into the large pot where they fry quickly. After a few minutes the ingredients join them again. Meanwhile a couscous with seven vegetables is prepared, each vegetable being cooked in the stock in an order which respects their different densitites and cooking times. Interestingly, the veg are suspended in the stock in a deep colander, this is to stop them sinking to the bottom where they would be too close to to the flame. Only when they are almost cooked are they released from the colander. It's a neat thing to know and makes the sort of scientific sense that Heston Blumentahl would appreciate.
And so to the table, where the affable owner of Bougal, Gama, joins us bemoaning the fact that he forgot about the lunch and had a full breakfast. What is immediately apparent is that the deceptive simplicity of what Fatima does belies the real skill. The chicken is superb, each flavour seperate and distinct, while the vegetable cous cous has each of the seven vegetables spot on for tenderness and taste. The dried fruits and the heady aroma of cinnamon all blend well and the stock is served seperately so that each diner can make the dish as wet or dry as preferred. Also served seperately is the harissa, the fiery north African paste that adds depth as well as heat to the dishes. Served as they are on Bouga's large collection of individual hand glazed bowls and dishes. each dish has a real ring of authenticity
As a final treat we try some of George's excellent cocktails. George is a skilled mixologist and refuses to use anything but the best brands of alcohols and only fresh fruit, nothing from a bottle.
This really is a great neighbourhood restaurant serving unpretentious but skilfully cooked food.
As well as the main menu there is a range of small dishes perfect for sampling alongside a cocktail or three. There have been a few teething problems which George was happy to admit too while explaining how they had been successfully adressed. I'd happily go to Bouga anytime I wanted a decent Moroccan meal and fun evening.
Words and Pictures: Nick Harman
