Moroccan Chicken Pitas

Moroccan Chicken Pitas takes roughly 45 minutes from beginning to end. One portion of this dish contains approximately 36g of protein, 29g of fat, and a total of 541 calories. This recipe serves 4 and costs $2.9 per serving. 2 people have tried and liked this recipe. Head to the store and pick up salt, cumin, olive oil, and a few other things to make it today. It is brought to you by Foodista. Taking all factors into account, this recipe earns a spoonacular score of 81%, which is excellent. Try Moroccan Chicken Salad Pitas, Chicken Salad Pitas, and Chicken Avocado Pitas for similar recipes.

Servings: 4

Preparation duration: -1 minutes

Cooking duration: -1 minutes

 

Ingredients:

1 package pita bread

1 pound boneless, skinless chicken breasts

1 teaspoon paprika

1 teaspoon coriander

1/4 teaspoon cinnamon

1 teaspoon cumin

of cayenne pepper

2 teaspoons minced garlic

1 teaspoon ginger

1 teaspoon salt

3 tablespoons olive oil

2 bunchs fresh Italian parsley, chopped

cup quinoa, cooked

2 cans petite diced tomatoes, drained and rinsed

1 small yellow onion, diced

2 lemons, juiced

4 Mahjool dates, pitted and diced small

1/4 cup olive oil – (I didn't measure!)

Sea salt

1 cup Greek yogurt

1/2 small cucumber, diced

1 tablespoon mint

1/2 lemon, juiced

Combine everything in a small glass bowl and chill

Equipment:

meat tenderizer

grill

Cooking instruction summary:

Combine all ingredients, from paprika down, in a small dish and stir thoroughly to combine. Using a meat mallet, pound the chicken breasts pretty thin about 1/2 inch thick. Generously rub the spice mixture on all sides of chicken breasts, cover and let it sit in the refrigerator for about an hour. Combine all tabbouleh ingredients and adjust salt and oil to your preference. Cover and chill while the chicken is marinating but first you should do like I did and dip a handful of pita chips in it. When the chicken has marinated, prepare grill to medium heat. Grill the chicken until done at least 165. I like mine very done, even with some crispy edges. Half the pita bread, and split open. Fill the halves with chicken, tabbouleh and finally the yogurt sauce.

 

Step by step:


1. Combine all ingredients, from paprika down, in a small dish and stir thoroughly to combine.

2. Using a meat mallet, pound the chicken breasts pretty thin about 1/2 inch thick. Generously rub the spice mixture on all sides of chicken breasts, cover and let it sit in the refrigerator for about an hour.

3. Combine all tabbouleh ingredients and adjust salt and oil to your preference. Cover and chill while the chicken is marinating but first you should do like I did and dip a handful of pita chips in it.

4. When the chicken has marinated, prepare grill to medium heat. Grill the chicken until done at least 16

5. I like mine very done, even with some crispy edges.

6. Half the pita bread, and split open. Fill the halves with chicken, tabbouleh and finally the yogurt sauce.


Nutrition Information:

Quickview
541 Calories
35g Protein
29g Total Fat
38g Carbs
36% Health Score
Limit These
Calories
541k
27%

Fat
29g
45%

  Saturated Fat
4g
27%

Carbohydrates
38g
13%

  Sugar
17g
19%

Cholesterol
75mg
25%

Sodium
1206mg
52%

Get Enough Of These
Protein
35g
72%

Vitamin B3
15mg
75%

Vitamin B6
1mg
69%

Selenium
44µg
64%

Vitamin E
7mg
49%

Phosphorus
471mg
47%

Manganese
0.88mg
44%

Vitamin C
32mg
40%

Potassium
1369mg
39%

Vitamin K
37µg
36%

Vitamin A
1678IU
34%

Magnesium
121mg
30%

Fiber
7g
29%

Copper
0.57mg
28%

Vitamin B2
0.46mg
27%

Iron
4mg
27%

Vitamin B5
2mg
25%

Vitamin B1
0.33mg
22%

Folate
70µg
18%

Calcium
167mg
17%

Zinc
2mg
15%

Vitamin B12
0.58µg
10%

covered percent of daily need
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Food Trivia

Death row inmates in Texas don't get to pick their last meal.

Food Joke

Calling in Sick... A Cat Owner's Story Calling in sick to work makes me uncomfortable because no matter how legitimate my illness, I always sense my boss thinks I am lying. On one occasion, I had a valid reason but lied anyway because the truth was too humiliating to reveal. I simply mentioned that I had sustained a head injury and I hoped I would feel up to coming in the next day. By then, I could think up a doozy to explain the bandage on my crown. In this case, the truth hurt. I mean it really hurt in the place men feel the most pain. The accident occurred mainly because I conceded to my wife's wishes to adopt a cute little kitty. As the daily routine prescribes, I was taking my shower after breakfast when I heard my wife call out to me from the kitchen. "Ed!" she hearkened. "The garbage disposal is dead. Come reset it." "You know where the button is." I protested through the shower . "Reset it yourself!" "I am scared!" She pleaded. "What if it starts going and sucks me in?" Pause. "C'mon, it'll only take a second." No logical assurance about how a disposal can't start itself will calm the fears of a person who suffers from "Big-ol-scary-machinephobia," a condition brought on by watching too many Stephen King movies. It is futile to argue or explain, kind of like Lloyd Bentsen telling Americans they are over-taxed. And if a poltergeist did, in fact, possess the disposal, and she was ground into round, I'd have to live with that the rest of my life. So out I came, dripping wet and buck naked, hoping to make a statement about how her cowardly behavior was not without consequence but it was I who would suffer. I crouched down and stuck my head under the sink to find the button. It is the last action I remember performing. It struck without warning. Nay, it wasn't a hexed disposal drawing me into its gnashing metal teeth. It was our new kitty, clawing playfully at the dangling objects she spied between my legs. She ("Buttons" aka "the Grater") had been poised around the corner and stalked me as I took the bait under the sink. At precisely the second I was most vulnerable, she leapt at the toys I unwittingly offered and snagged them with her needle-like claws. Now when men feel pain or even sense danger anywhere close to their masculine region, they lose all rational thought to control orderly bodily movements. Instinctively, their nerves compel the body to contort inwardly, while rising upwardly at a violent rate of speed. Not even a well-trained monk could calmly stand with his groin supporting the full weight of a kitten and rectify the situation in a step-by-step procedure. Wild animals are sometimes faced with a "fight or flight" syndrome; men, in this predicament, choose only the "flight" option. Fleeing straight up, I knew at that moment how a cat feels when it is alarmed. It was a dismal irony. But, whereas cats seek great heights to escape, I never made it that far. The sink and cabinet bluntly impeded my ascent; the impact knocked me out cold. When I awoke, my wife and the paramedics stood over me. Having been fully briefed by my wife, the paramedics snorted as they tried to conduct their work while suppressing their hysterical laughter. My wife told me I should be flattered. At the office, colleagues tried to coax an explanation out of me. I kept silent, claiming it was too painful to talk. "What's the matter, cat got your tongue?" If they had only known.

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