curry with a great provenance

The genesis of ideas fascinates me. Recipes, like family history, have a habit of unfolding, blending and recreating themselves. It excites me to find other people's scribbles and cross-outs in cookbooks (though never, ever in fiction!), a meeting of social anthropology and culinary exploration. It gives me a thrill to find a library book, splattered from a visit to a borrowers kitchen, with a secret message of a substitution or deletion pencilled into the margin.

I’m pathologically incapable of following a recipe exactly. I do my best to honour the spirit of the inventor but when it comes to savoury cooking I really struggle to toe the line if I don’t have all the ingredients. Perhaps it’s sheer laziness that leads me to be so adaptive?

For my final recipe post of the year I can trace back the provenance of the dish. This great curry comes to you from Jamie Oliver, via Reem's adaptation, wih a Food Nazi veganization for good measure.

I don’t own a single Oliver cookbook. I’ve always been ambivalent about his boyish charms, though I admit he’s likable… in a Shane Warne of Cooking kind of way. But what the man excels in is simple, flexible recipes. The Jamie/Reem curry is dead easy and quick as well, which always ticks my boxes.

So I bring you their favourite curry sauce for fish, from Jamie Oliver's Happy Days with the Naked Chef.

Only it doesn’t have any fish in it.

Though it would be very tasty with seafood.

Oh and I changed the flavouring just a teeny bit, with fresh turmeric, coriander seeds, kaffir lime leaves and some palm sugar. I swapped green chillies for red and dropped the curry leaves.

But does anyone know where Jamie got the recipe from in the first place?

My (new) Favourite Curry Sauce
(Quantities for two)

1 tab coconut oil
1-2 tsp Mustard Seeds
1/2 -1tsp Fenugreek Seeds (optional, I think I’ll give them a miss next time)
1 tsp fresh coriander seeds (or dried if you have to)
I tsp of finely chopped red chili (or this preserved version)
2-3 kaffir lime leaves, split in half
1 small onion
1thumb sized pieces of ginger, peeled & coarsely grated
1 thumb sized piece of fresh turmeric
2-3 tomatoes, chopped
200 ml coconut milk
1 tsp tamarind concentrate
1 –2 tsp grated palm sugar
A large pinch of salt
Vegetables, chopped into small pieces
1 block, Tofu – pressed to remove excess water, cubed

Heat a tablespoon of coconut or plain vegetable oil in a heavy based pan. Add the mustard seeds and stir. When they start popping add the fenugreek, coriander seeds and chili, stir some more. Take the onion, ginger and turmeric and chop in a food processor. Add to the pan. Cook for 3 or 4 minutes, stirring frequently. Now add the chopped tomatoes (or even better, whiz them in the already dirty food processor) and you guessed it, stir some more. Add the coconut, tamarind concentrate, kaffir lime leaves and palm sugar. Allow the paste to cook down a little and thicken. Add a pinch of salt and adjust sugar/salt/tamarind as necessary to balance the flavours.

Your sauce is ready to receive whatever you fancy. Jamie/Reem used seafood (which would work especially well with the citrus tones of the kaffir lime leaves) but I was on an end of the week vegetable crisper clean out – so in went carrots, cauliflower and chunks of zucchini. Make sure the vegetables are well coated in sauce. You may need to add a cup of water too loosen as it cooks down. Five minutes before serving add the cubes of tofu and allow them to soak up the flavours.

Garnish with fresh coriander if you want to be fancy.

Serve with rice or roti.

Notes – The curry is a gorgeous brick red colour and the fragrance is amazing. The fresh coriander seeds were wonderful. Keep it subtle and they marry with the other seeds. I had no curry leaves and though I know the kaffir lime gave the curry a different accent it was worth the deviation. As for the sugar, something tasted slightly bitter (maybe I’d scorched the fenugreek?) and the sugar along with the salt (what no salt in the original recipe?!) and the acid of the tamarind corrected the balance.

ANZAC biscuit-free zone

For the last few days we’ve been working our way through these ridiculously small but highly perfumed fruit. Home grown and picked by one of the guys at the market, last week I got a kilo of these under-sized feijoas for less than the price of a coffee. Each time I enter the kitchen, it’s like coming home. Literally. My olfactory senses tell me I’m back in New Zealand. The small, taste and texture is pure nostalgia.



This week I also made my first green curry paste from scratch, ridiculous considering how many other curries I make from first principles. I based it on this recipe throwing in more liberal quantities of most ingredients (including lots more green chillies) and omitting the coriander root, being the only herb I was out of. At first I was very disappointed. Yes the flavours had a vibrancy to them but the concoction didn't knock my socks off. Then I remembered the paste is only half of the flavour balance. After frying off the fresh paste and then simmering with coconut milk, I got out the fish sauce, palm sugar and split open a lime. A Thai curry is an alchemical process. The paste may be the base metal but it's the final three ingredients that create the magic.

Staring at me accusingly in the kitchen is also a bag of lemons, gifted from a visitor from over the border. I’ve been hanging out to make more lemonade, a perfect antidote to the unseasonably balmy weather of late.

No ANZAC biscuits for me, to commemorate the day instead I’ve a round up of old posts from my Grandfather’s WWI diary at my other blog, there’s also a post on what he ate at the front, in hospital and at Christmas while waiting to be shipped off from camp in my archives.

Enjoy the long weekend, take a leaf out of Princess Prissy Paws book and take it easy!

from the garden: a simple chickpea and silverbeet curry recipe

Home late, craving good honest vegetables. I’d had the foresight to soak some chickpeas overnight and cook them before leaving for work. Why does such a simple act make me feel disproportionately virtuous? Really it’s no effort at all and the legumes cooked in 40 minutes, easy.

This easy combo hit the spot, with a nice rounded, spiciness thanks to the homegrown chilli.

Simple chickpea and silverbeet curry recipe

(quantities are flexible, just make sure there is enough liquid)
Vegetable oil
1 large onion, diced
2 cloves garlic, crushed
1 fresh green chilli, finely sliced
a small knob fresh ginger, finely chopped
2 tsp cumin seeds, roasted and ground
2 tsp coriander seeds, roasted and ground
2 cups cooked chickpeas
a big bunch of silverbeet (aka Swiss chard), washed, spines removed and roughly chopped
4 big tomatoes, chopped (or 1 can crushed tomatoes)*
1 cup vegetable stock
salt, to taste

Sauté onion in ample vegetable oil (I used coconut) over low heat til translucent. Add the spices and stir for a couple of minutes. Toss in the chickpeas. Add silverbeet a handful at a time til wilted. Throw in the tomatoes and stock. Bring to a simmer, stirring every now and then. Cook for about 30 minutes.

Serve with your favourite rice.


* I've made a similar version substituting tomatoes with tamarind water.

sri lankan inspired cauliflower curry

I loved Malaysia. I gorged on curries of all varieties from the spicy Assam, through to Indian and a mouth-blowingly hot Thai meal. But when I came home I thought it was time to have a rest from chilli for a while.

Within a week I was bored, perhaps I was addicted to our little friend in the capsicum family? I became determined to made a curry that was creamy and flavoursome rather than relying on the heat.

The mildest curry that I eat on a regular basis is a cauliflower and coconut version at my lunchtime haunt, Sheni’s Curries. I set about to make my own version and created the base recipe as follows. Over the past month I’ve made at least 3 versions, from no chilli to moderately hot, each has its merit.

Despite the list of spices this is a deceptively simple curry to make and can be on the table in under an hour. What’s more it’s vegan and gluten-free.

My favourite combination is to serve this with brown rice and some pan-fried firm tofu, splashed with tamari just before turning off the heat or the same method using tempeh and kecap manis.

Sri Lankan inspired cauliflower curry

1/2 cup cashew nuts
2 cups water

Dry spices
3 tsp coriander seeds
2 tsp cumin seeds
2 tsp fenugreek
1 tsp dried chilli flakes (to taste)

Coconut oil
1 clove of garlic
3 cm turmeric root (or a tsp of dried turmeric powder)
3cm ginger root
6 curry leaves
2 tsp brown mustard seeds
1 med onion, diced
1/2 large cauliflower, broken into florettes
1 head of broccoli, broken into florettes
1 tin coconut milk
1 cup vegetable stock
salt
juice of half a lemon



Boil the cashews in water for about 20 minutes – longer if preferred. This makes them softer and easier to digest. I usually put the cashews on then measure some brown rice and get that cooking, toast and grind the spices and prepare the vegetables in the time they take to cook.

Toast the dry spices in a pan, move them around frequently so they don’t burn. Transfer to a mortar and pestle or spice grinder and bash well.

Heat some coconut oil (or plain vegetable oil) in a heavy based, large pot. On a medium heat add the ground dry spices, garlic, turmeric and ginger and stir for a couple of minutes. Add the mustard seeds and curry leaves. Stir again, then add the vegetables. Once all the vegetables are coated with the spices add the coconut milk and good quality vegetable stock (I use Marigold organic bouillon). Drain the cashew nuts and add to the curry. Bring to a gentle simmer on low, cover with a lid slightly ajar and give it a stir every now and then. If you need more fluid add some more hot vegetable stock.

After about half an hour check to see if the vegetables are tender. If you want to develop the flavours more cook earlier in the day, leave covered off the heat and reheat before dinner.

When the vegetables are cooked add salt to taste and a decent squeeze of fresh lemon juice. Don’t forget the lemon, it really helps enliven the spices.

quickie - real food

Not AWOL just busy. Fingers required to type words, lots of them. I have been cooking. Simple things. Delightful things. Here’s part of the week or two that was, in food.

1. Soup under Lucy’s guidance. How nice when a friend says “I can’t come for dinner tonight but I can help you cook instead”. The SE and I have been having this informal winter thing. Friends that are in the neighbourhood on certain chilly evenings have been assured a glass of wine or some warming chai, dips, nibbles and a hearty bowl of soup. If they stay long enough the SE mother’s solstice cake comes out. Friends, wine and food. A random assortment each time. What could be better?

Lucy’s soup involved onion, garlic, coriander, cumin, little green (puy) lentils, and ribbons of cavolo nero. Finished of with fresh coriander and a squeeze of lemon – it was a winner.

2. Baked vegetables. Not rocket science, just comforting, especially when they go all crispy. Potatoes are mandatory; I like them cut quite small so there is maximum crunchiness. Depending on what is in the house there has been some sweet potatoes, pumpkin, cauliflower, Brussels sprouts – all roasted after a toss with olive oil, salt and pepper. A little fresh rosemary if its not raining (because as nice as the herb is, even a short dash to the garden in the cold and wet is no fun).

3. Pasta of the month (or two) is onion, garlic and masses of cavolo nero, we just can’t get enough of this wintry green. Often with tuna, sometimes preserved lemon and olives. Stirred through gluten-free pasta and we’ve happy campers indeed.

4. More marinated tofu and salad (yes the SE been eating meat again).

5. Vegetable tagine/tajine in the real thing – the vessel itself soaked for 24 hours, dried for another hour, oiled then in a very slow oven. A slow bake. Onion, leek, fennel and Japanese eggplants are my favourite base, flavoured with lashings of homemade harissa. Pumpkin and chickpeas replaced the fish from my earlier endeavours. The drizzle of tahini when serving makes all the difference.

6. Brown rice. With tagines and curries. The latter made from Sri Lankan spice powder, added garam marsala, extra chillies and garlic. Lots of tamarind water for tang. Vegetables – something green and leafy, potato and chickpeas.

No photos, no recipes, just food. Hope this inspires a vegetarian twist in your menu this week.

what I'm lichen at equinox time

Happy equinox. In this part of the world it is now officially spring. And how do I know? I had to slap on some sun block today, noticing my skin was going pink after a delicious hour of reading in the garden. The wind chime is tinkling in the breeze and there is dry cider and rose´ chilling in anticipation in the fridge – yes the weather has turned the corner at last.

Yesterday I blew some cobwebs out of my head with a spontaneous trip to Hanging Rock, sans picnic unfortunately but a delightful afternoon out taking photographs and soaking up the eerie vibes.

While I may be taking snaps of nature, there is still not enough light for dinnertime photography. I’ve been enjoying making more curries with Sri Lankan spices. The one below does not attest to any authenticity, just combining what was at hand. It was perfect for an early spring supper. The visual images I will have to leave to your imagination.

Pumpkin and Chickpea Curry with Sri Lankan Spices

coconut oil
2 heaped teaspoons Sri Lankan curry powder
2-3 cm fresh ginger, finely chopped
1 red chilli, finely diced
6 curry leaves
1 onion, diced
a wedge of pumpkin (cubed)
4-5 tomatoes, skinned and diced
1/2 cup of water (as needed)
silverbeet/chard/spinach – a big handful, chopped
cooked chickpeas 1-2 cups
fresh coriander
salt

Heat the coconut oil in a heavy based pot over a medium flame. If you haven’t got coconut just use a bland vegetable oil. Add your spices (curry powder, ginger, chilli, curry leaves) and stir for a few minutes until the aromas are released. Add the onion and stir some more.

When the onion is translucent throw in the cubed pumpkin, once coated with the spices add the tomatoes. If your tomatoes aren’t very juicy add enough water to just cover the vegetables. Cover with a lid and turn the heat to low. Stir every now and then. After about 15 minutes the pumpkin will soften, then add the silverbeet or spinach. Stir. Add more water if it looks like it is drying out. After 5-10 minutes add the cooked chickpeas and coriander. Combine the ingredients well. Add salt as required. Heat the chickpeas through and serve with basmati rice and pickles.

bonito and me - Sri Lankan fish curry with tamarind

I’ve done it again! Not once but twice followed the “cook a recipe to the letter” challenge.

This time I used a recipe the Significant Eater had hunted down and recently made - a delicious tamarind based, fish curry. The ingredients are simple, as long as there is a good Asian grocery near you to buy the Ceylon curry powder. If not, this version of the powder is probably a close match to the one we used.

I am a recent convert to the tang of tamarind, in this recipe the water from the soaked pulp is mixed with the curry powder, turmeric and chilli to form a marinade for the fish. A short time later you fry off some curry leaves and fenugreek and throw in the fish and spicy juices.

For the curry, I used bonito. This is sometimes referred to as a type of tuna, though it is a member of the mackerel family. It is quite a striking medium sized fish. It’s skin is shiny, with lines down it’s body and appears to have no scales. But here in Australia it is not a popular fish. This may be because it is rarely offered as fillets and still there are too many people with an aversion to cooking whole fish. I have cooked with it whole once before and just the mention of bonito still attracts an extraordinary amount of hits. It is a remarkably cheap fish, coming in at under $10 a kilo. This time I got the fishmonger to fillet it for me and all that was left was for me to remove a small strip of bones and I was left with rich, red chunks of flesh. Baking it whole, I’d thought the flesh was quite dense but handling it as a fillet it was clear it is actually softer than tuna, necessitating some respect in order to not turn it to shreds. Accordingly, I cut the cooking time in half. But I swear that was the only adjustment to the recipe!

So here it is – Sri Lankan Fish Curry with Tamarind, I didn’t create the recipe so you will have to honour it by clicking the link. A simple, tangy fish dish that goes well with rice and salad.

seasonal eating

This is the point in winter when eating seasonally can become a little tiresome. While nature is gathering energy for the abundance of spring we are left with hardier plant foods – root vegetables, dense fruits like apples and traditionally a store cupboard of dry goods like beans, nuts and grains.

Of course living in the middle of a big city I don’t strictly need to adhere to such a diet. There are grapes and cherries flown in from across the world. I could swap the leathery silverbeet for greenhouse grown tender greens. Fresh tomatoes appear all year round, even if they are tasteless.

You see my choices are equally about taste as they are a tentative foray into the world of ecological consciousness. There is a nuttiness in the pumpkin roasted at this time of year. My belly feels satisfied with a serve of potato when it is cold outside. Parsnips are tender and sweet when freshly picked.

But as much as I like these foods, with a smaller amount of fresh vegetables on the menu for these weeks – familiarity begins to breed if not contempt, just a lack of excitement for things culinary.

This season’s most cooked vegetables revolve around sweet potato, carrots, pumpkin, potato, parsnips, and beetroot. There is a head of cabbage or cauliflower thrown in. More silverbeet than I would usually cook with, other than times that I have grown it. The organic stall has stockpiled enough onions, they hope, to last these months and kept them at a good price even though technically they are out of season. Life without onions or garlic tends to get very dull.

The upside is that in order to avoid boredom, though the ingredients tend to remain constant, it encourages me to use old vegetables in new ways.

This week the last serve of a large pumpkin needed to be eaten. It was the end of the shopping week and the challenge was to make a tasty dinner with only onions and pumpkin as the fresh ingredients. It could have been a curry with tofu, a pumpkin soup with a dash of spice or with beans and pasta to be a cousin of minestrone. Instead it became an even more distant relative of kedgeree.

I sautéed a large amount of diced onion for a long time til it was soft, then added small cubes of pumpkin plus garlic, chilli, a little fresh turmeric and some mild curry powder hiding in the spice drawer. While this slowly cooked in a lidded frypan I put on a pot of basmati rice and another with eggs to boil. When the rice was cooked I stirred it through the vegetables, adding a little butter and salt to carry the flavours. This was finished with a generous amount of parsley from the garden (a de facto green vegetable at this time of year), a large tin of red salmon and topped with the boiled eggs.

I was surprised how well it all came together. The little cubes of pumpkin lent sweetness but didn’t dominate. The salmon worked surprisingly well as a substitute for smoked fish. The combination might alarm a food-combining fascist but the protein and starch made our bellies satisfied.

Sure, I’m looking forward to the fridge brimming with variety but in the meantime I don’t mind having more rice, quinoa, beans and lentils. Salads will return soon enough.