Lady Masala

Hello. It’s been a while. Past year has been a bit shit, hasn’t it?  

I’ve never been good at segues. Ask anyone I’ve ever broken up with. “Where do you want to go for dinner?” “I think we should see other people.” 

When I was at Sarah Lawrence, my professor, Dr. Lee Edwards proposed a field trip that was shot down by the administration. They said it was too expensive. “But you cannot study Impressionism without seeing La Bohème,” she argued. They begged to differ. She put her money where her mouth is and paid out of her own pocket to take a class full of art history students to the New York Metropolitan Opera. At intermission, she escorted us to a table laden with profiteroles, fruit, and cheese very near one of the Chagall murals. There she took out her pointer and gave a short lecture on Chagall. Eavesdropping strangers moved closer to hear better. 

     I will always remember Lee. Not just because she was sparklier than the chandeliers in the Met’s lobby, though she was. Or because of her legendary field trips, which they were. But because she talked me out of going to Glasgow age 19. I had been accepted to a combined writing and photography program with the Glasgow School of Art and was contemplating whether or not to go for my junior year abroad. We spent one of our conference meetings discussing it. “My concern for you is that you get depressed in New York in February. Winter in Glasgow will make you feel absolutely suicidal. Also, I don’t know why anyone who wants to write would leave Sarah Lawrence to do so.” 

     The first time I visited Glasgow I was 29. My husband and I went for a long weekend a few months before our first child was born. We spent the better part of a dreich Saturday in a pub called Stravaigin where the chicken curry was so delicious I ordered it twice during our 6 hour stay. This makes me smile because chicken curry is my panacea of choice when the weather is wet and cold and the sky is a soul destroying shade of slate grey. My favourite is tikka masala and though it’s probably apocryphal, some say it has its origins in Glasgow. Legend has it that a Bangladeshi chef created the dish in the 1970s in an effort to please the Scottish palate.

     A good tikka masala should never be so spicy that it burns, nor should it be bland. Instead, the garlic and ginger should spark a gentle flame that gives heat to the spices and makes them smoulder. Nothing smells quite so delicious as warm spices beginning to bloom. When their fragrance fills the house, it also fills my soul and I can’t be that sad anymore. Sort of like listening to The Beatles. This week I made chicken tikka masala and naan. Right as I called my family to dinner, Lady Madonna was playing. The Beatles recorded it right before their famous journey to Rishikesh to study with guru, Maharishi Mahesh Yogi. 

     Paul McCartney has said “The original concept was the Virgin Mary but it quickly became symbolic of every woman; the Madonna image but as applied to ordinary working class women. It’s really a tribute to the mother figure, it’s a tribute to women. . . I think women are very strong, they put up with a lot of shit, they put up with the pain of having a child, of raising it, cooking for it, they are basically skivvies a lot of their lives, so I always want to pay a tribute to them.” Ten months into Coronavirus and having given birth to a baby in the middle of it whilst still having an older child to care for and educate, I’ve definitely been feeling this even with the help of my husband. Many of us have. Men and women. All I can say is find joy and comfort where you can. Mine is in the glow of my family. And this curry.

INGREDIENTS: 

1 kg of chicken breasts, halved lengthwise

7 garlic cloves, finely grated

2 Tbsp finely grated ginger

3 tsp garam masala

4 rounded tsp turmeric powder

3 tsp ground coriander

3 tsp ground cumin

500 ml natural full-fat yoghurt

1 Tbsp sea salt flakes

2 Tbsp rapeseed or vegetable oil or ghee if you prefer

1 thinly sliced yellow onion

1/3 c tomato paste

12 cardamom pods, pounded to a powder

a pinch of chilli flakes

2 x 400 g tins of crushed tomatoes

1/3 -1/2 cup double cream

1 small bunch of coriander, chopped

METHOD:

In a medium sized bowl, combine the garlic, ginger, garam masala, turmeric, coriander, and cumin.

In a large bowl, whisk together the yoghurt, salt, and half of the spice mixture. Cover the remaining spice mixture and set it aside in the fridge. Add the chicken to the yoghurt mixture. Make sure to coat every piece well. Cover it and refrigerate for about 6 hours.

Heat your oil/ghee in a large saucepan over medium heat. Add the sliced onion, tomato paste, cardamom, and chilli flakes. Cook until the onions are soft and the tomato paste is dark. Then add the remaining spice mixture. Cook until the bottom of your saucepan starts to brown and you can smell the spices bloom.

At this point, stir in the tinned tomatoes. Bring to a boil then turn down to simmer. Stir often, making sure to scrape the bottom of your pot. Reduce and thicken.

Add the cream and half of the coriander. Continue simmering.

While the curry gently bubbles away, grill or griddle your chicken until it blackens in spots but is not cooked all the way through. Then, chop your chicken into large pieces and stir them into the pot. Put a lid on top and continue simmering until the meat is thoroughly cooked, about 20 minutes to a half hour.

Serve with basmati rice and naan. Top with the remaining coriander.

 

 

Vegetarian Eggplant Curry

More hot food for hot weather, I know!  Still, I can’t get off the stuff.  The flavors taste too appropriate–tropical, spicy, and hot.  Or maybe I just like an excuse to drink ice cold Tiger beer.  Or perhaps it’s all the old Panjabi MC and Devendra Banhart I rediscovered on my iPod.  Or maybe these aren’t excuses at all but reasons why I should keep making and eating curries until it’s cold.  Ah well.  If you’re interested, here’s the recipe.  If not, maybe I’ll soon share with you how I make my iced tea.  Which is delicious and would probably go well with a curry. . .

Ingredients:

1 teaspoon cumin seeds

1 teaspoon coriander seeds

1 teaspoon tumeric

1 cinnamon stick

2 teaspoons garam masala

2 medium eggplants (aubergines), sliced into rounds

2 medium potatoes, chopped and parboiled

2 tomatoes, each cut into 8 wedges

1 onion, sliced into rounds

4 garlic cloves roughly chopped

2 tablespoons of fresh ginger finely chopped

1 small chili pepper of your choice depending on how much heat you prefer

olive oil and tablespoon of butter

salt

Method:

In a heavy bottomed pot, heat your olive oil and butter over medium heat.  Add the cumin and coriander seeds until they sizzle, less than a minute.  Add the tumeric, cinnamon stick, and garam masala.  Sauté the onions, ginger, garlic and chili in the spices.  Now stir the parboiled potatoes into the spices until evenly coated and let cook for about 10 minutes.  Then add the eggplant and tomatoes.  Lower the heat and allow to cook down for about 40 minutes.  Stir often to avoid vegetables sticking to the bottom of your pot.  Also, if the seasonings and spices look a little dry, add a drop of oil and stir.  Finally, season to taste with at least a hefty teaspoon of salt and serve.  I like to add fresh chopped cilantro, Greek yogurt and chutney, but that’s because I love condiments.

Foul Weather Curry

England is famously damp.  It’s also cold, gray, and foggy.  Some people try to romanticize this fact.  Like George and Ira Gershwin who wrote a charming tune about it for Fred Astaire to sing.  Well bully for them and all their art deco, sunny, California splendor.  I have always loved “A Foggy Day.”  Still, its sweet melody does not change the nature of England’s foul weather–not even the Ella and Louis version which is my  favorite.

Only those built to last, as my father-in-law says, can sustain the tempests here.  Everyone else who is smallish, like me, gets whisked away by gusts of wind which leaves one feeling rather like Piglet in Winnie the Pooh.  Which is to say not very dignified at all.

I’m glad that I look good in tweed coats.  It’d be a pity if I didn’t as they seem to be part of my daily English uniform.  Ditto herringbone scarves.  Ditto cashmere knee socks.  Ditto my mother’s vintage Superga Wellies.  Still, I yearn for a little warmth come spring.  Especially when the rest of the world entire seems to be bursting with blossoms and basking in the sun.

This is when I pull out my curry recipe for a little heat.  What the English sun fails to provide outdoors, my culinary skills can make up for inside.  Ginger, chilies, and Indian spices can do wonders for increasing body temperature (and metabolic rate I might add).  Until the sun comes out for both me and the Casa Blanca lilies I recently planted , I’ll be making lots of this.  If you live in the U.K., maybe you will too.  Keeping warm never tasted so good and colonial.

Ingredients:

380 grams/0.837 pounds mini chicken breast fillets

2 tablespoons garam masala

1 tablespoon tumeric

1 teaspoon cumin

1/2 teaspoon cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon hot smoked paprika

1/4 teaspoon chili powder

2 teaspoons salt

2 small onions, sliced into thin rounds

2 sweet red peppers, sliced into thin rounds

4 roughly chopped cloves of garlic

1/4 cup freshly grated ginger

1 minced chili pepper

1 Knorr chicken bouillon cube

1 can coconut milk

vegetable oil

Method:  

Mix all the dry spices together in a large bowl.  Next, add the chicken pieces.  Roll them around in the spice mixture until uniformly coated.  Really rub the flavor into each piece.  Cover the bowl of dry rubbed chicken pieces and refrigerate for as long as you can.  Ideally, overnight.  If you’re pressed for time, three hours will do.

Heat a large skillet with about 2 tablespoons of oil in it.  Caramelize the onions and peppers over medium/low heat.  In the last 30 seconds before you take them off the heat, add the garlic and ginger.  Stir to prevent sticking.  Transfer the contents of your skillet to a large sauce pot.

Now, brown your chicken pieces in the skillet.  When they’re done, transfer them to the sauce pot with everything else.  Crumble the bouillon cube into the mix.  Mix everything with a wooden spoon and break your chicken pieces into smaller bits.  They should look roughly shredded.  Finally, add the chili pepper and coconut milk.  Set everything to simmer for about 30 minutes.  Stir often.

Serve with basmati rice.

I don’t intend to make pairing suggestions but I have to say that last night, my husband and I had this with a 2002 Karthäuserhof Eitelsbacher Karthäuserhofberg Riesling Spätlese and it was a perfect combination.  The wine smelled sweet like honey, but the sugar was not overpowering.  It was really well balanced and complimented the spiciness of the curry.  Also it had the freshness of peaches and crispness of apples.  I highly recommend it.