In the kitchens of Palestine there is a kind of quiet poetry. It is woven not from extravagant ingredients or ornate presentations, but from resourcefulness, memory, and above all, love. Among the many simple, nourishing meals passed down through generations, few meals embody this as deeply as couscous with tomato and onion.

Article continues after advertisement

In refugee camps and crowded urban apartments, in rural villages and stone houses surrounded by olive trees, this dish found its way to countless tables. Known for its affordability and ease, it became a staple for countless Palestinian mothers raising children through times of hardship, occupation and economic strain. Yet those who grew up in Palestine remember this dish not with pity, but with deep affection as a flavor of comfort and a taste of home. 

It reminds them of their mothers’ patience, standing over the stove after a long day, cooking without complaint. It reminds them of childhood dinners eaten cross-legged on the floor, of siblings fighting for the last spoonful, of the smell of tomato and onion wafting through small homes during the quiet hours of the afternoon. It’s also a favorite among Palestinians in diaspora, a dish that helps them reconnect to their roots and to the land and people they miss.

Every bite of this dish….is a story of longing, of belonging, of people standing resilient in the face of adversity.

This dish is a testament to the strength and ingenuity of Palestinian women. They are the keepers of tradition, the preservers of culture, and often, the silent bearers of the nation’s burdens. Through the act of making this simple meal, they passed down more than a recipe, they passed down values: hospitality, humility, endurance, and hope. 

In a region where political and economic instability often affects daily life, food becomes a form of resistance and a way of saying, “We are still here.” Making it was both an act of survival and an act of love.

The ingredients are simple: dry couscous, ripe tomatoes, onions, olive oil, and salt. Perhaps a dash of black pepper or allspice, a spoonful of tomato paste if it was available.

Couscous, in its various forms, has deep roots across the Arab world. In Palestine, the fine, grainy form was used in many daily dishes. A larger, hand-rolled version called maftoul also exists and it was traditionally used especially during colder months or on Fridays, when families gathered for a slightly more special meal. In some homes, bulgur, a cracked wheat, was used in place of couscous. It added a heartier, nuttier texture and was just as filling and inexpensive. When we speak of couscous with tomato and onion, we’re often referring to the most basic, quick, and accessible version but Palestinian mothers have always adapted this dish based on what was available. Each version had its own texture and character, but the soul of the dish remained the same: tomatoes, onions, olive oil, and love.

Tomatoes and onions were readily available, either homegrown or bought cheaply at the market. And olive oil, the liquid gold of Palestine, was often pressed from family-owned olive trees or obtained through communal sharing.

The method is also simple. The onions are chopped and gently sautéed in olive oil until soft and golden. Tomatoes are added, sometimes peeled and crushed, sometimes roughly chopped and simmered until they break down into a thick, fragrant sauce. The couscous is cooked in the tomato sauce, soaking in all the sweetness of the onion and the acidity of the tomato. It’s then served warm, usually with a side of yogurt or pickled vegetables, or simply with a chopped salad (Salata Mafrumeh).

Even today, in a world increasingly obsessed with gourmet trends and fusion cuisines, couscous with tomato and onion, continues to be served in many Palestinian homes. Young mothers now make it for their own children, sometimes adding new touches, a few chickpeas, some garlic, or fresh herbs, but always keeping the heart of the dish intact. 

Here, I’ve chosen to give the dish a new form turning the couscous mixture into golden, crisp fritters, pan-fried until they hold together in tender little rounds. I serve them with a tangy yoghurt sauce laced with preserved lemon, fresh dill, and capers a nod to Mediterranean brightness and contrast. While this is not how it was traditionally served, the essence remains the same: a modest base elevated by care and creativity. The fritters, though modern in presentation, honor the same spirit of making something beautiful from the simplest of means.

For those outside the culture, this dish may seem unremarkable. But for Palestinians, it’s deeply symbolic. Every bite of this dish, whether spooned from a steaming bowl or crisped into fritters, represents how food can carry the weight of memory, love, and history. It is, in its essence, a mother’s promise: that no matter what, her children will be fed, cared for, and loved. It is a story of longing, of belonging, of people standing resilient in the face of adversity. And through this dish, their legacy continues: quiet but enduring, simple but powerful, like the meal itself.

–Sami Tamimi

*

Couscous fritters with preserved lemon yogurt
Aqras Kosukson

This dish was inspired by my mom’s couscous with tomato and onion. This recipe is not only a testament to its easy and quick preparation, but also a clever way to revitalize leftover couscous. With just a simple mix of ingredients, your couscous becomes lovely fritters, pan-fried to golden perfection. These wonderfully comforting crunchy fritters are served with zesty preserved lemon yogurt.

For a vegan version, simply replace the egg with an additional 1-2 tablespoons of cornstarch, though the fritters will have a slightly more delicate and crumbly texture than the egg-based version.

2 tbsp olive oil
1 medium onion, finely chopped (1 1/4 cups / 160 g)
1 tbsp tomato paste
1 tbsp red pepper paste (page 29)
1 red bell pepper, finely chopped (7 oz / 200 g)
4 very ripe tomatoes, cut into 1/4-inch / 1/2 cm dice (12 oz / 350 g)
3 medium carrots, peeled and coarsely grated (1 2/3 cups / 185 g)
5 1/4 oz / 150g couscous
1 cup / 220ml boiling vegetable stock
1 egg
1/4 cup / 34 g cornstarch
1 tbsp lemon zest
1/4 cup / 60 ml sunflower oil, for frying
Salt and black pepper

For the preserved lemon yogurt:

1/2 cup / 150 g Greek yogurt
1 tbsp preserved lemon, finely chopped
1 tbsp capers, finely chopped
1 tbsp fresh dill, finely chopped
1 tsp fresh mint leaves, finely shredded

Start by making the preserved lemon yogurt: put all the ingredients into a medium bowl, along with 3/4 teaspoon of salt and a grind of black pepper. Whisk well, then cover and store in the fridge until needed.

Pour the olive oil into a 12-inch / 30 cm sauté pan and place it over medium heat. Add the onion and cook for 5 minutes, stirring often, until it has softened but not colored. Stir in the tomato paste and red pepper paste and cook for 1 minute. Add the red pepper, tomatoes, 1 teaspoon of salt and a good grind of black pepper and cook for 3 minutes. Add the carrots and cook for another 3 minutes.

Add the couscous to the pan and stir well. Add the hot stock and stir again, then cover the pan. Lower the heat and allow to cook for 10-12 minutes, until all the liquid has been absorbed and the couscous has softened and swelled.

Remove from the heat and allow to cool. Add the egg, cornstarch and lemon zest and mix well. Form into 12-13 patties (2 1/4 oz / 60 g each), about 2 1/2 inches / 6 cm wide and 1 1/4 inches / 3 cm thick.

Heat the oven to 400°F and line a baking sheet with parchment paper. Heat the sunflower oil in a large nonstick frying/sauté pan over medium-high heat and cook the patties for 3 minutes on each side, until golden. Place on the prepared baking sheet and cook in the oven for a further 5 minutes, until piping hot inside.

Serve warm, with the preserved lemon yogurt and a salad.

__________________________________

Reprinted with permission from Boustany: A Celebration of Vegetables from my Palestine by Sami Tamimi. Copyright © 2025. Published by Ten Speed Press, an imprint of Penguin Random House. Photographs copyright © 2025 by Ola O. Smit.