If you’re already familiar with this Senegalese favourite, you don’t need me to convince you of its charms. Indeed, so good is it that, though the dish is native to the southern region of Casamance, it’s popular on menus as far afield as neighbouring Gambia. If poulet yassa is new to you, however, you have a real treat in store: a braised dish of chicken marinated in sweet onions, tangy citrus and warm chilli, it tastes, as Lerato Umah-Shaylor puts it so beautifully, like “sunshine on a plate” – and certainly, as my parents observed when I introduced them to it, far more than the sum of its parts. Simple ingredients, complex flavours – and a guaranteed crowdpleaser.
The meat
Alexa Weibel, who adapted chef Pierre Thiam’s recipe from The Fonio Cookbook for the New York Times, says that though Thiam uses chicken legs, “in southern Senegal, where the dish originated, you might be served other chicken parts, fish yassa or even lamb yassa”.
Legs are the most popular cut, with Umah-Shaylor also suggesting thighs in her book Africana, though both Gabonese chef and food writer Anto Cocagne and food historian and author Jessica B Harris start with whole birds, and joint them. I think the juiciness of legs makes them the superior choice, but go with whatever you prefer, leaving the skin on and the bones in, ideally – the skin will help keep the flesh moist and render fat into the sauce, while the bones provide flavour. (Note that, if you don’t eat meat, this sauce also works well with tofu or roast squash.)
The marinade
The common factor here is citrus juice, be that lemon or lime, though I prefer the richer, fruitier tang of the latter. Cocagne and Umah-Shaylor put in the zest as well, a nice idea that I’m going to save for the sauce, because I don’t think the flavour really transfers to the chicken while it’s marinating. Most recipes also add chopped or pureed onion (though Thiam and Dakar-born Khadim Mbamba, the chef behind London’s Little Baobab, both prefer the green spring onion variety). Other possible additions include thyme, bay and parsley, none of which my testers and I can really pick up in the meat – like the citrus zest, then, such aromatics are also better deployed later in the process, as are Mbamba and Cocagne’s ginger and mustard.
The latter makes a Senegalese red pepper paste, nokoss, to go in the marinade, which as well as the ingredients already mentioned features chilli, red onion, tomato, celery and soumbala powder, which is made from the fermented seeds of the néré, or African locust bean tree. I suspect peppers and tomatoes in the UK are more watery and less intensely flavoured than those in Senegal, because my version turns out noticeably paler and more liquid than the one in the photograph, and sadly doesn’t add much flavour when deployed in such a small quantity.
Mbamba’s green pepper version is far punchier, but I’ve elected to keep things very simple indeed and stick to salt, citrus and onion, and the same ingredients that flavour the sauce. Rather than adding all the onions to the marinade, as many recipes suggest, I’ve kept most of them back to speed up the browning process when it comes to making the sauce.
The cooking
Weibel explains that “the cooking method is flexible: the chicken develops the best smoky char when grilled, but will still be delicious seared in a grill pan or cast-iron skillet”. The consensus online seems to be that while yassa traditionally involves barbecued meat, these days home cooks are more likely to fry it indoors, though you could roast it, too, as Mbamba recommends, with similarly delicious results. Indeed, roasting or using a grill pan are both great options, as is Umah-Shaylor’s overhead grill, but I’ve chosen to fry them, as recommended by Cocagne’s book Saka Saka and Amethyst Ganaway’s recipe for Serious Eats, to render as much fat, and therefore flavour, as possible from the skins for use in the sauce. (My only caveat with roasting the meat is that it doesn’t leave the chicken quite as juicy as frying, grilling, or griddling to colour, before braising it with the sauce. Whichever method you choose, pour any fat or juice that’s escaped the chicken into the sauce when you add the meat to it.)
The sauce
Onions and citrus, with a backbone of chilli heat, are the building blocks here – pretty much everything else is an optional extra – so it’s essential to take the time to brown the onions properly, so they offer a caramelised contrast to the tangy juice. My testers and I also really like the sweetness Harris’ that carrots bring to proceeding (though you may prefer to use red pepper or Thiam’s green version, though they will, of course, be less sweet), as well as the saltiness of the olives that she and Mbamba both pop in.
Olives and dijon mustard, the probable legacy of three centuries of colonial occupation by France, are not obligatory, but the flavours do work really well. Orléans-based caterer Mamy Coco told food blogger and author Bernard Laurance in 2014 that in her native Casamance, poulet yassa tends to be less citrussy and mustardy than the versions now found in places such as Dakar, concluding that it was thus “for you to judge the level of acidity that best pleases your tastebuds”. I’d echo this, while urging you not to be too shy; this recipe sings at full volume.
We love the almost marmalade-like flavour that the lemon zest gives Cocagne’s dish, and the complementary warmth of thyme and ginger with the obligatory chilli. Which variety you use, and in what quantity, depends similarly on the pleasure capsaicin brings your tastebuds. I like the fruitiness of scotch bonnet, pricked so it gently infuses the sauce with its heat (and can be whipped out when it hits your specific sweet hotspot), but any red chilli will do, depending on availability and preference. If you’re not keen on chilli heat, use a milder variety and go big on black pepper instead – Thiam adds two whole teaspoons of the stuff to his version.
If you’ve barbecued or roasted the chicken, you might want to dilute the sauce with chicken stock, as Umah-Shaylor and Ganaway recommend, but if you’ve fried it, it should be rich enough without. (That said, though none of the recipes I try calls for it, a dash of Maggi seasoning is a common addition, so a pinch of MSG wouldn’t go amiss, if you feel so moved.)
To eat
Rice is the most common serving suggestion, but couscous is mentioned by Ganaway, “creamy mashed potatoes and green beans” by Umah-Shaylor and fluffy, nutty fonio, an ancient variety of millet that’s a staple in West Africa, by almost everyone else. Erica Turner tells readers of America’s Test Kitchen that “braised hibiscus leaves (widely eaten in Senegal) are a traditional accompaniment, but cooked spinach seasoned with lemon juice is a fine alternative”.
Perfect chicken yassa
This can be made ahead of time, because it reheats very well indeed.
Prep 20 min
Marinate 4 hr+
Cook 55 min
Serves 4
2 lemons, or 3 limes
Fine salt and black pepper
4 skin-on and bone-in chicken legs
4 medium onions
2 tbsp groundnut oil, or other neutral oil
2 carrots, thinly sliced at an angle, or 1 red pepper, thinly sliced
1 tbsp grated fresh ginger
1 tbsp thyme leaves, or 1 tsp dried thyme
1 tbsp dijon mustard
1 scotch bonnet, or other warm red chilli pepper
80g green olives
Finely grate the zest of half the citrus fruit, set the zest aside, then juice all the fruit into a bowl and stir in a teaspoon of salt. Cut a few deep slashes in the skin side of the chicken, then put it in a suitable container with the lime juice mixture and rub it in well.
Finely slice one of the onions, add this to the container and mix again, then cover and refrigerate for four to eight hours.
Put the oil in a large frying pan for which you have a lid, then set it over a medium-high flame.
Lift the chicken from its marinade (don’t throw the marinade away), pat it dry, then fry, in batches if necessary, just until well browned on all sides. Thinly slice the remaining onions (I use a mandoline).
Set aside the chicken and turn down the heat under the pan slightly. Add the sliced onions, season, and leave to cook undisturbed for four minutes, or until they’re beginning to brown.
Stir, then cook, stirring regularly, for 12-15 minutes, until the onions are soft and golden.
Add the onions from the marinade (save the citrussy liquid), then stir in the carrots, ginger, thyme and grated zest, and cook for another couple of minutes.
Stir in the mustard, marinade liquid and 125ml water, then nestle the chicken pieces into the the onion mix. Add the chilli and olives, and bring to a simmer.
Cover, turn down the heat and leave to braise for 30-40 minutes, until the meat is cooked through; lift out and discard the chilli halfway through, unless you like it hot.
Check the seasoning, adjust if necessary, then serve with rice, fonio, millet or couscous.
Poulet yassa: what’s the secret to greatness? Should I have barbecued the meat, and can the same method be used for other proteins?
