Musakhan

Palestinian roasted chicken with olive oil, caramelised onions and sumac on taboon bread

Origin: Jordan Valley & West Bank, Palestine

From the journey of Olive.

Musakhan is considered the national dish of Palestine, and it is, at its core, a celebration of olive oil. The Jordan Valley and the hills of the West Bank have been olive country since at least 6000 BCE; ancient press installations carved into limestone, stone weights, and clay vessels have been found across the region, testifying to an unbroken continuity of olive cultivation that is among the oldest in the world. In Palestinian cuisine, olive oil is not merely a cooking fat: it is the primary flavouring, the carrier of terroir, the thing that makes one family's kitchen recognisably different from another's. Musakhan concentrates this philosophy. Chicken pieces are slow-roasted until tender, then piled onto taboon bread: the flatbread of the Levant, cooked against the hot clay walls of a taboon oven; that has been drenched first in the fragrant, herb-scented olive oil left behind by the long caramelisation of three or four onions per person. Sumac, the brilliant crimson berry ground to a sour-fruity powder, cuts through the richness. Pine nuts and fried onion rings finish the dish. Musakhan is eaten with the hands, tearing the bread into the chicken and onion beneath, each piece soaked through with oil. The olive oil used should be Palestinian if possible; oil from the Jordan Valley or the Nablus hills has a grassy, slightly peppery character that no other oil quite replicates.

Ingredients

Chicken

  • 1.4 kg chicken, jointed into 8 pieces (or 4 bone-in thighs and 4 drumsticks)
  • 120 ml Palestinian or good-quality extra-virgin olive oil
  • 2 tbsp ground sumac
  • 1 tsp ground allspice
  • ½ tsp ground cinnamon
  • ½ tsp ground black pepper
  • 1 tsp fine sea salt

Onions

  • 1 kg white onions, halved and thinly sliced
  • 100 ml extra-virgin olive oil
  • 1½ tbsp ground sumac

To Serve

  • 4 taboon breads or large flatbreads (or substitute with pita or naan)
  • 50 g pine nuts, toasted in a dry pan until golden
  • 1 tbsp ground sumac, extra to finish
  • fresh flat-leaf parsley, roughly torn

Method

  1. Mix together the olive oil, sumac, allspice, cinnamon, black pepper and salt in a large bowl. Add the chicken pieces and turn to coat thoroughly. Leave to marinate at room temperature for at least 30 minutes, or refrigerate for up to 12 hours.
  2. Heat the oven to 200°C / 180°C fan / gas 6. Spread the marinated chicken pieces on a roasting tray in a single layer and roast for 40–45 minutes, until deeply golden and the juices run clear. Reserve any roasting juices from the pan.
  3. While the chicken roasts, make the sumac onions. Warm the olive oil in a large, heavy-based pan over medium-low heat. Add the sliced onions and a pinch of salt. Cook slowly, stirring every few minutes, for 35–40 minutes until deeply soft, golden, and beginning to caramelise. Stir in the sumac and cook for a further 2 minutes.
  4. To assemble: lay the flatbreads on a large baking tray. Spoon the sumac onions generously over the breads, covering them completely. Drizzle over any chicken roasting juices. Place in the oven for 5–7 minutes to warm through and allow the oil to soak into the bread.
  5. Transfer the soaked flatbreads to a large platter or wooden board. Pile the roasted chicken pieces on top of the onion-covered bread. Scatter with toasted pine nuts, an extra dusting of sumac, and torn flat-leaf parsley.

Notes

The quality of the olive oil is critical; use the best Palestinian or high-quality single-estate extra-virgin oil you can find. Sumac is available in Middle Eastern grocers and many supermarkets. Taboon bread (also called marquq or shrak in some regions) is a large, thin flatbread; pita or good naan works as a substitute. Traditionally, musakhan is made for the olive harvest celebration in October and November, when the new oil is first pressed.

The Gastrographer

The Gastrographer

Mapping Culinary History

To explore — select an ingredient below.

Journey Point Map Key

Ingredient originTrade or transit route
Became a culinary stapleColonial / trade control
c. 1836 CE
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14 of 14 stops
1836 CE
6000 BCE600 BCE150 BCE1836 CE
Olive

Olive

Olea europaea

FruitsOleaceae

🌍Origin

Jordan Valley and Eastern Levant, Eastern Mediterranean — c. 6000 BCE

🌱Domestication

The cultivated olive, Olea europaea, was raised from its wild ancestor, the bitter, small-fruited oleaster (O. europaea subsp. oleaster), which still grows as a thorny shrub across the scrublands and rocky hillsides of the Mediterranean basin. The domestication took place in the Eastern Levant around 6000 BCE, and it ranks amongst the most consequential of all the early human partnerships with a plant, for the olive would in time come to define an entire civilisation and an entire sea. Archaeological evidence of olive oil pressing has been recovered from a scatter of early sites in the Jordan Valley, on the Carmel coastal plain, and in the Galilee, and the earliest confirmed oil press, a stone installation capable of extracting oil in quantity, dates to approximately 5500 BCE near modern Haifa, a remarkably early testament to organised production. The olive tree possesses qualities that set it apart from almost every other domesticated plant and that shaped the whole history of its cultivation. It is slow to mature, demanding years of patient tending before a young tree will yield, so that to plant an olive grove is to invest in a future one may not live to enjoy; but once established it is very nearly immortal, and individual trees in the Levant, in Greece, and on Crete are reliably documented at well over two thousand years of age, still bearing fruit, their gnarled and hollowed trunks the oldest living agricultural features of the European and Near Eastern landscape. The tree is hardy, drought-resistant, and content on the thin, stony soils where little else will thrive, and it can be propagated readily from cuttings, root suckers, and grafts, so that a prized variety may be multiplied true and carried far. What truly distinguishes the olive, however, is that, unlike a grape or a fig, it gives up its value only under compulsion. The raw fruit is intensely bitter and all but inedible straight from the branch, and its oil, the substance for which it has been chiefly grown for eight thousand years, must be wrung out by crushing and pressing. This single fact carried profound consequences, for the extraction of olive oil demands fixed infrastructure of stone mills and presses, organised seasonal labour gathered at the moment of the harvest, vessels for storage, and the accumulated knowledge of when to pick and how to press. The olive could not be a casual food of the gatherer; it required settlement, cooperation, and capital, and many scholars have seen in the discipline of the olive harvest and the press one of the quiet drivers of early social complexity, the bitter fruit that helped to build the organised societies of the ancient Mediterranean world.

Global Voyage

The olive is, more than any other plant, the very signature of the Mediterranean, and its distribution maps almost exactly onto the ancient idea of the Mediterranean world itself, the band of coastlands where the tree will grow and the civilisations that grew up around it. From its Levantine cradle the olive spread westward by sea, carried in the trading networks that bound the early Mediterranean together. The Minoans of Crete built the first great olive oil economy, storing oil by the tens of thousands of litres in the magazines of Knossos, and the Phoenicians, the master mariners of the ancient world, carried olive cuttings from their Levantine homeland to every shore they touched, founding Carthage on the North African coast and planting groves along the Atlantic edge of Morocco and the coasts of Spain. The Greeks, for whom no crop was more central, took the tree to all their colonial cities, to Massalia in Gaul, to Syracuse and Akragas in Sicily, and to Cyrene in Libya, distributing the olive across the sea as surely as they spread their language and their gods. It was Rome that turned olive oil into an industry on a scale the world had never seen. Roman soldiers were issued oil with their grain, Roman baths were scented with it, and the Roman kitchen used it for frying, preserving, and finishing alike, so that the empire's appetite was vast. To feed it, the Romans planted enormous groves across their provinces and above all in Hispania Baetica, modern Andalusia, whose Guadalquivir valley became the greatest olive oil exporter of the ancient world; the broken amphorae of that trade, piled over centuries, form the artificial hill of Monte Testaccio in Rome to this day. After the fall of Rome the Arab agricultural revolution of Al-Andalus and the wider Islamic world maintained, refined, and extended the groves, and the agronomists of Córdoba and Seville wrote treatises on olive cultivation and pressing that would guide Iberian agriculture for centuries. The olive's final age of travel came with the European expansion across the oceans, when it followed Mediterranean peoples to the new lands of similar climate. Spanish Franciscan missionaries carried olive cuttings up the coast of California, planting the first olives of the Americas at Mission San Diego in 1769, and the Mission trees they raised still stand. European settlers planted the olive in South Australia in the 1830s, and later waves of Italian, Greek, and Lebanese immigrants brought their olive oil culture with them, founding serious industries in Australia, in the Americas, and elsewhere. Wherever the climate offered the dry summers and mild winters of its homeland, the olive followed its people across the globe with the fidelity of an old companion, the tree that could not bear to be parted from the cooking it had shaped.

🍽Modern Culinary Role

The olive remains, eight thousand years after its domestication, one of the defining crops of the Mediterranean and, through its oil, an increasingly global one. Spain stands at the head of world production, growing roughly 44 percent of all olive oil, the great bulk of it from the vast groves of Andalusia and above all of Jaén Province, where some sixty-five million trees stretch in ranks to every horizon, the single largest concentration of olive trees anywhere on earth. Italy, Greece, Tunisia, Morocco, and Turkey follow, and between them the Mediterranean nations still account for the overwhelming majority of the world's annual output of around three million tonnes of oil. Olive oil is the defining fat of the Mediterranean diet, the pattern of eating built upon oil, grain, vegetables, pulses, and wine that has been recognised by UNESCO as an Intangible Cultural Heritage of humanity and studied exhaustively for its cardiovascular and other health benefits, which have made extra-virgin olive oil one of the most prized of all culinary fats in the modern health-conscious world. That reputation has driven a dramatic growth in global consumption well beyond the oil's traditional heartlands, as it has penetrated the North American, Chinese, and Japanese markets and entered kitchens that had never known it. Yet the olive is far more than its oil. The cured table olive, transformed from a bitter, inedible drupe by brining, salting, or lye-curing, is a food in its own right across the whole Mediterranean and beyond, from the meaty green Nocellara of Sicily and the wrinkled dry-cured beldi of Morocco to the purple-black Kalamata of Greece. The fruit and its oil are pressed into pastes such as the Provençal tapenade and the Turkish olive spread, braised into the slow zeytinyağlı dishes of the Ottoman table, and folded into the bread, the salads, and the stews of a dozen national cuisines. From the lamp oil and victors' crowns of antiquity to the supermarket bottle and the olive-oil cake of modern California, the olive endures as one of the most culturally freighted and most quietly indispensable foods on earth.

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