A relative of couscous finds a wider fan base

Fregola, or fregola sarda, as it is known in Sardinia, has been around for a long, long time, a culinary gift from nearby Tunisia. A sturdy, spherical relative of couscous, it is handrolled from a mixture of semolina and water, then dried and toasted before it is ready to be steamed or simmered. Beautifully burnished and speckled, it has an alluring comfort-food appeal.

I admire fregola’s many guises. It can be served simply boiled and buttered, the better to show off its firm, satisfying, slightly chewy texture and its rustic, nutty flavour. Or fregola may replace rice for a juicy risottolike dish made with clams or other shellfish, with small amounts of broth added incrementally. Added to vegetable soups, cooked slowly along with the other ingredients, it provides body and rib-sticking sustenance. Many classic Sardinian recipes pair fregola with saucy fish stews or braised meats. Fregola salads, served at room temperature or slightly warm, are another delight.

Fregola has become an attractive ingredient for American cooks, especially among chefs. I quite like to cook it myself, and have for some time, but despite my fondness (and a certain amount of hands-on edible research), I wanted to know more, so I sent out a group email to a limited number of chefs and food lovers. I asked: Why do you like fregola? How do you like to cook it?

Paula Wolfert wrote back and told me to look at page 216 of her book Mediterranean Grains And Greens, published in 1998. “It’s all there,” she said. Aha! Sardinian fregola, Sicilian cuscusú, Israeli couscousou, Syrian and Jordanian mograbiah, Jordanian miftool, Tunisian mhammas and Greek and Turkish kuskus, she explained, are all versions of couscous, in various shapes and sizes, scattered about the eastern Mediterranean. New York chef Mason Lindahl makes “a luscious fregola salad with lemon, mint, parsley and shaved aged sheep’s milk cheese”, he said. Cookbook author Joan Nathan, who is a contributor to The New York Times, says she prepares fregola “like Jewish farfel, with fried onions and mushrooms”. Jennifer Sherman of Chez Panisse describes fregola as “a delicious blank canvas, ready to be painted with bright spring-green peas, Italian parsley and arugula”. Gabriela Cámara, the chef of Cala in San Francisco, said: “I do love fregola and my mouth just waters at the thought of it dressed with pesto and pecorino.”

During a recent cold snap, I opted for fregola in a hearty, spicy, tomato-y calamari stew, an homage to frugal times when fregola was considered cheap and belly-filling, like potatoes. Since squid is the least expensive offering at the fishmonger, we had a stellar meal for less than US$20 (705 baht).