My fingers are permanently stained the color of turmeric. Some people look at me as though I am unclean. One helpful co-worker even suggested that I put a pot of water on the boil with a little Downey fabric softener mixed in to remove the stink from my clothes, my hair, my home. What has happened to me, you might wonder?
Mangoes & Curry Leaves : Culinary Travels Through the Great Subcontinent
Unfortunately for those around me, we (that would be my husband, The Town Mayor, and I) are quite happy -- incandescent, in fact -- to smell like we live deep within the folds of Curry Valley. We have worked our way through the recipes in this book with a vengeance, inhaling curries and dals and chutneys as fast as me and my two burners can crank this manna out. (Yes, I only have two working burners at the moment -- new kitchen is in the works).
We have visited our local Indian grocery India Sweets and Spices no less than three times this week, coming home with bagfuls of wonderfully exotic things, such as moong dal and ghee (and oh, I will wax rhapsodic about ghee momentarilee!).
Bless Jeffrey Alford and Naomi Duguid, for they have opened up a world I never new existed. Sure, I knew that I could hit a favorite Indian local (Bombay Cafe comes to mind), but I would never dream I could recreate these mystical, magical, mysterious plates at home.
We began our journey with Prawn White Curry -- a fiery white-hot dish pleasantly disguised by it's soothing creamy color. This is where the door opened and everything went Technicolor... I wasn't in Venice Beach anymore; I was in Sri Lanka. Traditionally, the shrimp heads and shells are ground up and added to the curry, but praise all the things good in the world, they don't call for us to do it here. It is just full of simple yumminess -- garlic, fenugreek, coconut milk, fresh chiles, shallots, fresh ginger, turmeric, tomatoes and limes juice... and of course, headless prawns. It is absolutely staggeringly delicious.
That same night begat another dish from the same region, Sri Lankan Beef Curry, a dish full of freshly ground coriander, cumin seeds, cinnamon, cardamom, turmeric, and tamarind. It was marred only by the fact that I need to learn that stew beef really needs to stew. The next day, upon reheating, the beef was meltingly tender.
Served on top of the beef as a condiment was Hot Sweet Date-Onion Chutney. Three words: Oh. My. Gandhi. So simple -- four ingredients -- dried red chiles, dates, onions and ghee -- but, WOW! The Mayor and I were undone. This will be a regular staple in the fridge from now on. In fact, last night, I reached for the jar, and characteristically and stereotypically, it was empty, because the Mayor finished it off and put it back where it belonged -- in the fridge, of course. When I quizzed him, "WHY?" he said, "Well, I was planning on licking the jar."
The final recipe was the simple, but exquisite Raita. I must confess that I hate cucumbers. Hate them. I can sniff them out in anything. I am a bit Howard Hughesian about them -- if they even touch other pieces of food on my plate, I swear I can taste their lingering essence. Yet, who has been scarfing down this cucumber salad like it was ice cream? Yes, me, The Town Tart. And I cannot explain it. Again, just four ingredients: the cukes, yogurt (full-fat, whole, please), cilantro and salt. I just know that it, when served with the rest of food, is one of the best culinary combinations I can think of at this moment... mind you, I am in a curry coma.
We supplemented this first feast with some delicious parathas, bought frozen from the above mentioned and now much beloved Indian grocer, and we were delirious with joy. Where has this been all our lives?
The next night brought us to new lands -- Nepal and it's Mountain Dal, made from Mung dal (split yellow lentils) spiced by an intoxicating mixture of turmeric, dried red chiles, coriander seeds, cumin, cloves, cinnamon and peppercorns. And a quick tip here: just go by yourself a cheap coffee grinder
This recipe was also our introduction to mustard oil. Now, Alford and Duguid warn that it is labeled "not for human consumption" only because it prevents all of those pesky little problems of importing food products from foreign lands... hmmm... that's comforting. So, sure enough, when we located the bottle at India Sweets, the label read "for massage use only." The lady behind the register assured me it was safe to eat and encouragingly said, "It's very, very delicious, and when it's heated, it changes the flavor to something beautiful." Good enough for me!
We tried another beef dish, Bangla Slow-Cooked Beef with Onion, which was more amazing than the previous beef curry. And with the addition of a topping of caramelized onions slow cooked in ghee, well... I'm sorry, I just can't go on... Talk amongst yourselves for a bit while I recover.
For a change of pace, we added vegetables to the menu and chose Cauliflower Dum. These people make one of the most boring vegetables on earth turn into something wonderful and interesting. The cauliflower maintained its crunch, but was tender and oh-so-spicy good.
As The Mayor and I work our way through, it's has become quite apparent that everything in this book is golden. It has been an absolute joy and an amazing adventure to try out these recipes, experimenting with ingredients never before found in my kitchen, and we are not nearly done yet. But, I'll leave that ride for you to experience yourself. Just find and support your local Indian grocer, get yourself a Penzeys Catalogue and get ready to be transported to the far-reaches of the earth.
My only complaint about the book is that it is too beautiful to take into the kitchen. So, for every recipe I followed, I left the book open on the dining room table, and walked back and forth to the kitchen muttering "quarter teaspoon fenugreek, quarter teaspoon coriander" as my mantra, so as not to splatter these beautiful pages. My suggestion to the authors: please, for your next book, include inside a disc so that we can print the recipes out. This is a book I want to keep beautiful forever.
Mountain Dal
Excerpted from Mango & Curry Leaves: Culinary Travels Through the Great Subcontinent
by Jeffrey Alford and Naomi Duguid
1 cup mung dal, washed and drained
5 to 6 cups water
1/2 teaspoon turmeric
1 teaspoon salt
2 to 3 dried red chiles, stemmed
1 teaspoon coriander seeds
1/2 teaspoon cumin seeds
3 cloves
One 1-inch piece cinnamon or cassia stick
Seeds from 2 green cardamom pods
5 or 6 black peppercorns
1 tablespoon mustard oil or vegetable oil
1 cup finely chopped onion
Put the dal into a large pot with 5 cups water and the turmeric and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat to maintain a strong simmer, partially cover, and cook for 30 to 40 minutes, until the dal is almost mushy. For a more liquid texture, add another 1/2 to 1 cup water.
Meanwhile, using a mortar and a pestle or a spice/coffee grinder, grind together the chiles, coriander, cumin, cloves, cinnamon, cardamom, and pepper. Set aside.
When the dal has finished cooking, add the salt and stir, then lower the heat to very low to keep it warm.
Heat a wok or karhai or a cast-iron skillet over medium-high heat. Add the oil, then the finely chopped onion, and stir-fry for 5 minutes. Add the ground spice blend and stir-fry for 1 to 2 more minutes, then transfer to the pot of dal. Stir the dal well and cook for about 10 minutes, then serve hot.
Serves 4
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