North African Chicken and Spinach Stew

When I was seven years old, we lived in Elmhurst, Queens, surrounded by different cultures. We lived in what’s called a three-family house, which is simply a brownstone separated into three apartments, one per floor. The family upstairs was Indian and the family downstairs was Chinese. Our friends in the building to the left of us were from Afghanistan and told us stories of how they escaped their nation’s civil war. Our Italian friend across the street talked about his Sicilian grandmother and the desserts she made. The little Iranian girl who lived in the building to the right of us was Jussie’s first crush. Of course we all played together; there were no boundaries. Our favorite game was stickball. We played in the middle of the street and looked out for each other by yelling “car!” as a signal to clear out of the street every time we’d see a car coming. As kids, we didn’t care about the differences between us; we cherished the stories we shared about our lives and the different foods we tried while at each other’s houses. This particular dish came about from a meal we had at a friend’s birthday party down the street. We came home raving about it and had to try it! This is our mom’s version.