Back to the book! I made three recipes from the Jaffrey cookbook for dinner last night: kheema, a spiced ground beef dish; moong dal, a classic North Indian lentil recipe; and chapatis, a simple bread which I've done a few times before. Jaffrey recommends this combination, and I can see why-- the flavors mingled really well together. Also, they're both simple and good for leftovers, so we're pretty much set for next week's lunches now.
The dal has to simmer for an hour and a half, the kheema has to simmer for an hour, and the chapati dough has to rise for at least 30 minutes, so I made the dishes in that order.
The dal recipe is actually incredibly easy. I've made some fairly complicated dals in my time. When I first went on a gluten-free diet after being misdiagnosed with celiac disease, I was totally broke and didn't know what was safe to eat, and pretty much survived the first month on dal and rice. It's nutritionally fantastic and very versatile, but it can be an intricate pain to make. Not so much this dal. Anyone with a pot, a pan and an hour and a half can pretty much do this one with their eyes closed.
Get yourself some moong dal. The lentils should be split open, dark green on the outside and light yellow on the inside. Put 10 oz. in a pot with two pints of water, and boil. Clean the scum off the top with a strainer. Throw in a few cloves of garlic, some ginger (no need to chop), turmeric, a pinch of cayenne pepper, and chopped cilantro or parsley if you have it (I didn't). Turn down the heat, cover but leave a little vent open, and leave it for an hour and a half, stirring every ten minutes or so. Try to make sure it doesn't stick to the bottom of the pan. I was sure, initially, that this would run out of moisture, but it didn't. About ten minutes before it's done, throw in one lemon's worth of juice and some salt. Then, right before service, melt ghee in a pan-- about 3 tbsp-- and put in a pinch of asafetida and an equal amount of whole cumin seeds. When the asafetida starts to snap-crackle-pop, pour the whole thing into the dal. Sprinkle with a handful of fried onions and serve immediately, with a lemon wedge on the side.
While that's simmering: kheema. I halved the recipe, because two pounds of ground beef is too much for two people. This has both warm spices and a bit of heat. First, you need to fry some onion half-rings, because both this recipe and the dal are finished with them. Just put them in hot oil and keep stirring until they get nice and brown. You don't want them to burn. Make sure you start taking them out of the pan just before they are done, because these little suckers are slippery and you don't want them burning while you're still struggling to get them out of the pan.
Keep the oil from the onions. Throw in two bay leaves, a cinnamon stick and six cloves. Once the leaves change color, throw in a finely chopped onion, three cloves chopped garlic and a spoonful of chopped ginger (I admit it, I used the emergency ginger jar). Keep those going until things are just barely starting to brown, then add your classic North Indian spice mix-- ground cumin, coriander seeds and turmeric. Mix and fry. Then add a tablespoon of plain yogurt and stir that in very quickly. Give that a minute, then put in one chopped tomato. Fresh would be great, but I was out so I used canned chopped tomato, which actually works beautifully and even gives a slightly more consistent texture. Next time I use fresh, I think I'll run it through the food processor!
Give that a few minutes, then add the meat, chop it all up with your flipper, mix well with the sauce and let it start to brown. Then add your warm spices: mace, nutmeg, cayenne and salt, plus a few ounces of water. Bring to a boil, cover, lower heat, and simmer for an hour, stirring every ten minutes or so. If you are not making chapatis, what you can do at this point is go zone out in front of Law & Order, and get up at every commercial break to go and stir your pots. (I know, it's an awful show, but I'm addicted. You never know what character actor will show up-- Aasif Mandvi was on last night! Aasif-- if you're reading-- call me!) About halfway through the simmering, put the fried onions in (reserving some to top the dal) and stir. That's it.
Now for the chapatis. I was worried about having enough time, so I had Joe do most of the kheema prep while I kneaded chapati dough. I needn't have worried-- I had time to spare, as it turned out. Chapatis are the easiest Indian bread I've tried-- spelt flour and water in about equal parts, knead for 8 minutes, let rise for half an hour. Knead again, divide into 8 balls. Roll each ball into about a 5-6 inch circle, flouring all the while. To cook, put the chapatis, one at a time, on your very hot tava or cast iron pan. Once they solidify and start to get brown, grab with tongs and hold over an open flame until they puff. Brush with a bit of butter, and repeat with the next chapati. These ones came out fluffier than previous chapatis-- we had some excellent puffing action this time.
All this should be served with rice, by the way. We still had some of this rice left over, so we tossed it in the microwave and it went perfectly.
So: rice, kheema, dal with a lemon wedge and fried onions, chapatis, Wild Goose IPA. Both the kheema and dal had a kick to them, more so than a lot of the food I've made from the Jaffrey book so far. Joe and I found our sinuses clearing by the end of the meal, but it wasn't so hot that the flavors were disguised. We were amazed at how well the flavors complemented each other.
I wasn't sure I'd like this dal. When I was growing up, most of the veggies we ate were of the frozen-microwaved variety or the slimy-okra variety, and I didn't like them one bit. My stepbrothers still tease me about the time I gagged over a bowl of peas. It's only recently, under the tutelage of a former-vegetarian husband and Indian vegetable-eating friends, that I've started learning to like my vegetables. (My friend Gagan's mom's okra blew my mind.) But I'm still a bit leery about anything green and savory. So when I was cooking these lentils, and they were very green with lots of brown liquid, and they smelled sort of pea-like, I was worried. But once I added the spiced ghee, I started to relax. And by the time it got to my plate, I was thrilled. The vegetable-ness of the lentils is balanced with the richness of the ghee, the heat from the spices, the tang of the lemon juice and the sweetness of the fried onions. The lemon juice, in particular, really made the flavors from the spices bright and vivid. There's a lot going on in this deceptively simple dish, and I have to say that I am now looking forward to eating this particular vegetable. I hope you're reading this, Mom!
Showing posts with label tomato sauces. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tomato sauces. Show all posts
Sunday, July 8, 2007
Thursday, July 5, 2007
Zucchini Parmesan
We're big on Italian-American comfort food at our house. Joe grew up in a traditional Italian-American family in New Jersey, and I'm from Pittsburgh, so this is familiar territory for us. (My standard is the version they make at Minutello's in Shadyside.) We picked up some fresh, in-season zucchini at the Fair Food Farmstand and decided to forgo the traditional Fourth of July grill-fest.
Zucchini parm is a relatively simple dish, but there are a few stages involved in its making, so it can be a little time-consuming.
First: get yourself some good, fresh zucchini. Ideally, it'll be from your backyard, but if you're like us and don't have a backyard, the local farmer's market will do. Three or four small ones will be plenty.
Next: Slice it lengthwise, as thin as you can get it. We used a mandoline to do the slicing, which makes things much easier. Make an egg wash in a bowl: two eggs, a splash of water, and some salt and pepper. Then spread some bread crumbs out on a plate-- you can use boxed, but we just threw some leftover bread into the food processor for a minute. Dip the zucchini slices in egg and bread them, then fry them in about 1/4 inch of oil until they are nice and brown.
It's helpful to have two people for this stage-- one breading and one frying. If you're slicing as thin as you can, you'll have a lot of slices to fry!
As you finish frying the slices, let them cool for a few minutes, then put a layer of zukes at the bottom of a casserole pan. Cover the layer with marinara sauce. (Yes, we used a jar-- the organic stuff from Trader Joe's is perfectly fine if you don't have the time to Martha Stewart some from scratch.) You can add a bit of cheese at this point-- parmesan is good; we used Idiazabal. Add another layer of zucchini, top with another layer of sauce. Repeat until you're out of zucchini. Top with sauce and mozzarella cheese.
Put the casserole in a 350-degree oven. It won't need long-- 20 minutes at most, but keep an eye on it. You just want to heat it through and brown the cheese.
Slice and serve hot with a glass of red wine. Good stuff-- tasty, soul-satisfying, and great for vegetarians.
Zucchini parm is a relatively simple dish, but there are a few stages involved in its making, so it can be a little time-consuming.
First: get yourself some good, fresh zucchini. Ideally, it'll be from your backyard, but if you're like us and don't have a backyard, the local farmer's market will do. Three or four small ones will be plenty.
Next: Slice it lengthwise, as thin as you can get it. We used a mandoline to do the slicing, which makes things much easier. Make an egg wash in a bowl: two eggs, a splash of water, and some salt and pepper. Then spread some bread crumbs out on a plate-- you can use boxed, but we just threw some leftover bread into the food processor for a minute. Dip the zucchini slices in egg and bread them, then fry them in about 1/4 inch of oil until they are nice and brown.
It's helpful to have two people for this stage-- one breading and one frying. If you're slicing as thin as you can, you'll have a lot of slices to fry!
As you finish frying the slices, let them cool for a few minutes, then put a layer of zukes at the bottom of a casserole pan. Cover the layer with marinara sauce. (Yes, we used a jar-- the organic stuff from Trader Joe's is perfectly fine if you don't have the time to Martha Stewart some from scratch.) You can add a bit of cheese at this point-- parmesan is good; we used Idiazabal. Add another layer of zucchini, top with another layer of sauce. Repeat until you're out of zucchini. Top with sauce and mozzarella cheese.
Put the casserole in a 350-degree oven. It won't need long-- 20 minutes at most, but keep an eye on it. You just want to heat it through and brown the cheese.
Slice and serve hot with a glass of red wine. Good stuff-- tasty, soul-satisfying, and great for vegetarians.
Sunday, July 1, 2007
Prawns, Kerala Style, and Rice with Whole Spices.
This was by far the fastest, easiest recipe I've made from the Jaffrey cookbook, and it was one of the most flavorful. This, my friends, is a winner.
We got a pound of small tiger shrimp at the Reading Terminal Market, along with some absolutely bursting ripe tomatoes from Livengood Farms. I can't believe how juicy and flavorful those tomatoes were.
OK. Chop two tomatoes and put then in the blender with half a cup of dried coconut, three cloves of chopped garlic and just a bit of ginger. I ended up also putting a chopped onion in there, because I neglected to tell Joe not to grab it. Didn't seem to have any negative effect, though!
Fry a finely chopped onion. When it starts to brown and get soft, add the paste from the blender, three tbsp of tamarind paste (my new favorite ingredient), half a cup of water, ground coriander, turmeric, cayenne pepper and salt. Mix, bring to a boil and simmer for five minutes.
Then throw your (peeled, deveined) shrimp into the liquid and bring to a boil again. Keep stirring until they're cooked. You're done. Simple.
As for the rice: Our foodie friend Nagesh made this for a party last week. (I hope he won't mind my giving away his culinary secrets here.) I may have missed an ingredient or two, but it was quite simple: five cloves, five cardamom pods, and a generous pinch of black cumin into the water just before turning on the rice cooker. Lots of flavor, minimum effort.
This was delicious! The shrimp were done perfectly, and the sauce was sweet and coconut-y. I thought the bitter edge of the black cumin was a nice counterpoint to the sweetness of the sauce. It was a light meal-- we probably should have made some bread as well. Next time-- and believe me, there will be several next times for this dish.
We got a pound of small tiger shrimp at the Reading Terminal Market, along with some absolutely bursting ripe tomatoes from Livengood Farms. I can't believe how juicy and flavorful those tomatoes were.
OK. Chop two tomatoes and put then in the blender with half a cup of dried coconut, three cloves of chopped garlic and just a bit of ginger. I ended up also putting a chopped onion in there, because I neglected to tell Joe not to grab it. Didn't seem to have any negative effect, though!
Fry a finely chopped onion. When it starts to brown and get soft, add the paste from the blender, three tbsp of tamarind paste (my new favorite ingredient), half a cup of water, ground coriander, turmeric, cayenne pepper and salt. Mix, bring to a boil and simmer for five minutes.
Then throw your (peeled, deveined) shrimp into the liquid and bring to a boil again. Keep stirring until they're cooked. You're done. Simple.
As for the rice: Our foodie friend Nagesh made this for a party last week. (I hope he won't mind my giving away his culinary secrets here.) I may have missed an ingredient or two, but it was quite simple: five cloves, five cardamom pods, and a generous pinch of black cumin into the water just before turning on the rice cooker. Lots of flavor, minimum effort.
This was delicious! The shrimp were done perfectly, and the sauce was sweet and coconut-y. I thought the bitter edge of the black cumin was a nice counterpoint to the sweetness of the sauce. It was a light meal-- we probably should have made some bread as well. Next time-- and believe me, there will be several next times for this dish.
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Chicken in Light Sauce and Pooris
This is one of the simpler and quicker chicken recipes in the Jaffrey book, and it turned out very tasty. We used good free-range chicken from Godshall’s Poultry in the Reading Market, which has a better flavor and more natural texture than the hormone-pumped Perdue version. We used the breasts and legs for this dish.
First up: three tbsp of yogurt, one of tomato puree, and a cup of water, mixed well with a fork. I used Greek yogurt, which is absolutely terrible for you and incredibly delicious. Seriously, the texture is like ice cream. Next, ginger and garlic in the blender with a splash of water. No onions in this dish—I’ll have to remember that next time we run out of onions. The problem here was that the amount of garlic and ginger was so small that even the mini-blender was too big-- everything just flew to the sides. We ended up grinding it with the mortar and pestle, which worked perfectly well.
Brown the chicken in a small amount of oil in the bottom of a stockpot. I was careful to cook it a bit more thoroughly, since last time I found myself with underdone chicken. Set aside. Throw in your spices—a cinnamon stick, two dried red chilies, cardamom pods, cloves, and two bay leaves. Fry for just a few seconds, then add the ginger-garlic paste and turmeric. Fry for a minute, then put the chicken back in. Add the yogurt mixture, a tbsp of lemon juice, salt and pepper and mix.
Jaffrey says to bring to a boil and then lower heat, cover and simmer. I still don't really trust her on the whole boiling-yogurt business, especially when I can't whisk it because of the big chicken pieces. I brought it almost to boiling and then simmered it for 25 minutes.
While that’s simmering, roll out your pooris. These ones contained actual wheat flour—no more gluten-free stuff, woohoo! We've been finding that it's best not to make them too big and thin-- slightly thicker and maybe 4 inches wide is really all you need. The density allows the poori to sink into the oil for a second before it puffs up and floats, and you get a better puff. Our puffing went well, but they came out a bit too crispy. Joe’s getting really into perfecting the pooris.
We finished the pooris just as the chicken was getting done—go us. We served the chicken in a bowl with pooris, and it was damn tasty. The chicken was dark and flavorful enough to really complement the sauce, instead of just acting as a sauce conveyance device. It was quite filling and satisfying, especially paired with a Yard’s Philadelphia Pale Ale. And since it’s doable in half an hour and doesn’t require any onion chopping, I think this might become a work-night staple dish in our household!
First up: three tbsp of yogurt, one of tomato puree, and a cup of water, mixed well with a fork. I used Greek yogurt, which is absolutely terrible for you and incredibly delicious. Seriously, the texture is like ice cream. Next, ginger and garlic in the blender with a splash of water. No onions in this dish—I’ll have to remember that next time we run out of onions. The problem here was that the amount of garlic and ginger was so small that even the mini-blender was too big-- everything just flew to the sides. We ended up grinding it with the mortar and pestle, which worked perfectly well.
Brown the chicken in a small amount of oil in the bottom of a stockpot. I was careful to cook it a bit more thoroughly, since last time I found myself with underdone chicken. Set aside. Throw in your spices—a cinnamon stick, two dried red chilies, cardamom pods, cloves, and two bay leaves. Fry for just a few seconds, then add the ginger-garlic paste and turmeric. Fry for a minute, then put the chicken back in. Add the yogurt mixture, a tbsp of lemon juice, salt and pepper and mix.
Jaffrey says to bring to a boil and then lower heat, cover and simmer. I still don't really trust her on the whole boiling-yogurt business, especially when I can't whisk it because of the big chicken pieces. I brought it almost to boiling and then simmered it for 25 minutes.
While that’s simmering, roll out your pooris. These ones contained actual wheat flour—no more gluten-free stuff, woohoo! We've been finding that it's best not to make them too big and thin-- slightly thicker and maybe 4 inches wide is really all you need. The density allows the poori to sink into the oil for a second before it puffs up and floats, and you get a better puff. Our puffing went well, but they came out a bit too crispy. Joe’s getting really into perfecting the pooris.
We finished the pooris just as the chicken was getting done—go us. We served the chicken in a bowl with pooris, and it was damn tasty. The chicken was dark and flavorful enough to really complement the sauce, instead of just acting as a sauce conveyance device. It was quite filling and satisfying, especially paired with a Yard’s Philadelphia Pale Ale. And since it’s doable in half an hour and doesn’t require any onion chopping, I think this might become a work-night staple dish in our household!
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Joe's Spaghetti and Meatballs, with WHEAT!
To celebrate Sarah's return to the wheat world I made a classic that has always been one of her comfort foods. Like most of our cooking, we find using fresh ingredients is the way to go. So, after work I stopped by DiBruno's and picked up some freshly made spaghetti and a nice loaf of fresh ciabatta bread.
For the meatballs:
1 lb ground beef
3 cloves of garlic
1/2 to 3/4 cups of bread crumbs
2 eggs
salt and pepper to taste.
While preparing the meatballs heat a quart or so of red sauce of your choosing. I used to always make my sauce from scratch but in recent years there have been a number of jarred sauces come out that are quite good and preservative free. Last night I used Newman's Own Basil Marinara. Heat to a simmer over medium heat then reduce heat to low.
Finely chop the garlic or put through a garlic press. Add to the meat in a large bowl. Add half of the breadcrumbs and one egg. For the bread crumbs I cut up chunks of the ciabatta bread and put it in a 200-degree oven for a half hour or so. Then I put it in a mini cuisinart and pulsed it until I had bread crumbs. If you have the time, leave the bread out overnight. Mix well. (I find the only way to properly mix the meat is by hand.) Add the other egg and mix again. Then add breadcrumbs until the meat is solid and any slipperiness of the eggs is gone. You have to do this by feel, as the amount of bread crumbs necessary will vary depending on the moisture in the meat, the humidity that day, etc. Add salt and pepper.
Heat olive oil in a cast iron pan. Roll the meat into balls. The size is a personal preference. I usually get about 12-14 balls out of a pound of meat. Place meatballs in pan at least a half an inch apart. Brown on all sides. This will not cook them through. When browned add to the sauce that is simmering. They should be cooked through in 20-30 minutes.
About five minutes before the balls were done I cut up bread into four flat pieces about four inches wide. I put two cloves of garlic in a press and put them in a small bowl. I added a few tablespoons of olive oil and mixed it well. Then, I spread the bread with the garlic and olive oil and I put it under the broiler until crispy and brown.
I added the pound of fresh pasta to about 5 quarts of salted water. Fresh pasta only needs about 3 minutes to cook. It was wonderful. I have forgotten how pasta made with gluten has a slightly bread-like quality and is very springy compared to the gluten free variety. There are some very good gluten-free pastas out there but nothing equals fresh pasta. Also, real pasta is more filling than gluten-free pasta. I had forgotten this and got very full quickly.
Drain pasta, put meatballs in a bowl and serve. I topped mine with some Spanish cheese with a soft parmesan quality.
By the noises coming out of Sarah, it was a successful meal.
[Sarah's note: Yes. Yes, it was.]
Saturday, June 9, 2007
Chicken with Tomato Sauce and Butter (aka Butter Chicken) and Chapatis
Hello again! Joe and I have had rough stomachs for a few days, so we haven't been doing much cooking. But I've been enjoying this experiment so much that I actually got a little twitchy after not cooking for a few days! I'm really finding it relaxing to cook-- I put on my apron and my music and just get into my "zone," you know? And I'm really becoming much more confident in the kitchen. I read a new recipe, in the New York Times or whatever, and I think "that would be easy." I'm more competent every week-- and it's such a gratifying skill to learn!
Anyway. On to dinner. I made this dish-- Butter Chicken, Chicken Makhni, or in Jaffrey's case, Chicken with Tomato Sauce and Butter, it seems to be pretty much the same dish wherever you go. This dish was popularized by a restaurant in Delhi called the Moti Mahal, which seems to be mentioned in just about every article about Indian food as it appears on non-Indian tables. Apparently the Moti Mahal introduced this dish in the eighties, and pretty much immediately went from being a no-name hole in the wall to being a famous, tourist-destination hole in the wall. That's exactly the sort of restaurant I seek out in New York City, so the Moti Mahal is definitely first on my list of things to do when I get to Delhi (whenever that will be). (On that note: if you're in New York, check out Fresh Dumpling in Chinatown, Kabob King in Jackson Heights, Jorge's in Ridgewood and Tacqueria la Fonda in Morningside Heights.)
This dish takes a while, but it's pretty simple. Indian mirepoix (onions, ginger, garlic) goes into the blender, along with lots of whole spices. There are several spices in the mix that are normally cooked whole and taken out-- bay leaves, red peppers, cinnamon sticks-- that are crumbled and put in the blender in this dish. Whole cloves, peppercorns and cardamom pods also go in. Blend all that into a paste.
Brown the chicken in the bottom of the stockpot. (You're supposed to use breasts and legs, but we used tenderloins from Trader Joe's, chopped into cubes.) Take out and set aside. Put the blender paste in and fry for 5 minutes. Add a pound of chopped/crushed tomatoes (we used canned organic tomatoes), half a cup of water and a teaspoon of salt. Boil, cover, simmer for half an hour, stirring periodically. Then add the chicken, simmer and stir periodically for another half an hour.
In the meantime, make your chapatis. I rolled them thinner than before, and they puffed up beautifully when Joe put them over the flame. He brushed them with butter (a bit too much, I think, given the buttery nature of the chicken dish) and kept them in foil.
When the second half hour of simmering is over, take 4 tablespoons of butter, cut into pats, take the pot off the heat and stir in the butter until it's melted. This changes the color of the sauce from red to orange, which is cool. Serve over rice, with chapatis. I had it with a Flying Fish Belgian Dubbel, 'cause that's just how I roll.
This was very tasty and very rich. Jaffrey has you put the spices whole into the blender, but I think next time I'll grind them with the mortar and pestle before I put them in. They didn't really break up in the blender, and we spent a lot of time trying not to bite into whole peppercorns. I probably could have gone heavier on the red chillies, as well. That, and not so much butter on the chapatis. But definitely a success.
So full...
Next up: masoor dal with assorted local mushrooms. Yum!
Anyway. On to dinner. I made this dish-- Butter Chicken, Chicken Makhni, or in Jaffrey's case, Chicken with Tomato Sauce and Butter, it seems to be pretty much the same dish wherever you go. This dish was popularized by a restaurant in Delhi called the Moti Mahal, which seems to be mentioned in just about every article about Indian food as it appears on non-Indian tables. Apparently the Moti Mahal introduced this dish in the eighties, and pretty much immediately went from being a no-name hole in the wall to being a famous, tourist-destination hole in the wall. That's exactly the sort of restaurant I seek out in New York City, so the Moti Mahal is definitely first on my list of things to do when I get to Delhi (whenever that will be). (On that note: if you're in New York, check out Fresh Dumpling in Chinatown, Kabob King in Jackson Heights, Jorge's in Ridgewood and Tacqueria la Fonda in Morningside Heights.)
This dish takes a while, but it's pretty simple. Indian mirepoix (onions, ginger, garlic) goes into the blender, along with lots of whole spices. There are several spices in the mix that are normally cooked whole and taken out-- bay leaves, red peppers, cinnamon sticks-- that are crumbled and put in the blender in this dish. Whole cloves, peppercorns and cardamom pods also go in. Blend all that into a paste.
Brown the chicken in the bottom of the stockpot. (You're supposed to use breasts and legs, but we used tenderloins from Trader Joe's, chopped into cubes.) Take out and set aside. Put the blender paste in and fry for 5 minutes. Add a pound of chopped/crushed tomatoes (we used canned organic tomatoes), half a cup of water and a teaspoon of salt. Boil, cover, simmer for half an hour, stirring periodically. Then add the chicken, simmer and stir periodically for another half an hour.
In the meantime, make your chapatis. I rolled them thinner than before, and they puffed up beautifully when Joe put them over the flame. He brushed them with butter (a bit too much, I think, given the buttery nature of the chicken dish) and kept them in foil.
When the second half hour of simmering is over, take 4 tablespoons of butter, cut into pats, take the pot off the heat and stir in the butter until it's melted. This changes the color of the sauce from red to orange, which is cool. Serve over rice, with chapatis. I had it with a Flying Fish Belgian Dubbel, 'cause that's just how I roll.
This was very tasty and very rich. Jaffrey has you put the spices whole into the blender, but I think next time I'll grind them with the mortar and pestle before I put them in. They didn't really break up in the blender, and we spent a lot of time trying not to bite into whole peppercorns. I probably could have gone heavier on the red chillies, as well. That, and not so much butter on the chapatis. But definitely a success.
So full...
Next up: masoor dal with assorted local mushrooms. Yum!
Monday, June 4, 2007
Chicken with Sliced Lemon and Fried Onions; Pooris; leftover Potato Patties
This wasn't one of my most successful meals to date, but it was still damn delicious.
This particular chicken recipe jumped out at me when I was flipping through the cookbook last night, trying to decide what to make. It sounded so good, I couldn't wait to get home and make it. And after the last wildly successful round of pooris, I was looking forward to more.
I made the poori dough first thing when I got home from work. It needs at least an hour and a half to rise. I figured dinner would take about an hour, so I had half an hour to chill before starting to cook in earnest. Joe and I were both getting hungry, so I broke out the two leftover aloo-ki-tikiya from the other night. We browned them in the cast iron pan and got a nice crust-- they did, however, turn bright yellow, which tells you just how much turmeric I've been using in that pan lately. Seriously, turmeric is powerful stuff. My cuticles have been yellow since I started this blog! And even my Tide Pen, the most amazing stain remover known to humanity, isn't removing the yellow stain from the sauce I spilled on my knee tonight. I got myself a nice laminated apron with extremely cute cherries on it to cook in; guess I'd better start wearing it when I eat!
Anyway. The potato patties held together much better after having the benefit of a couple of days in the fridge. We split a Flying Fish Belgian Dubbel with them and it was an excellent snack.
And when we finished... time to start cooking. I got the chicken from Godshall's Poultry in the Reading Terminal Market-- I went for the naturally fed free-range chicken, and had them cut it into piece when I bought it. I have to say, the quality was high. You have to skin it; apparently Indian cuisine, at least as interpreted by Jaffrey, who's from Delhi-- isn't big on chicken skin.
Onions, garlic and ginger go into the blender with a bit of water. We've been calling this "Indian mirepoix"-- mirepoix (yes, we had to look up the spelling) being the mixture of onions, carrots and celery that forms the base of so much French cooking. It seems like most of the North Indian recipes in this cookbook use onions, garlic and ginger as a mirepoix. It's a wonderfully flavorful base, and I'm violently allergic to celery so I like this one much better.
Next: fry some onions in oil the bottom of a stockpot, and get them good and brown and crispy. Mine came out perfectly, I was very proud. Take them out and put them on a paper towel. Next, the chicken pieces-- I had to do mine in two stages to give them room to move around. What you want to do here is brown them without totally cooking them through, because they'll be simmering for half an hour later. Jaffrey says to do this quickly over high heat. In the end, though, my chicken was a bit underdone, so next time I think I'll take a bit more time browning the chicken.
Remove the chicken and put on a plate with a paper towel. Now for the fun part: the sauce. First, take your mirepoix and fry it for ten minutes or so, till it's nice and golden brown and your eyes no longer fill with onion tears just from looking into the pot. Then add the next classic spice blend, another one that is becoming routine for me: coriander, cumin and turmeric, with the coriander/cumin ratio about 2:1. Fry that. Then two tbsp of yogurt go in, one spoonful at a time. I added the spoonfuls and then whisked quickly-- it's not in the recipe, but it seems to do the trick when it comes to keeping yogurt from curdling over the heat. (Thanks, Joe.) Then a tablespoon of tomato puree (I actually used paste), whisked in the same way. Then your warm spices: cinnamon, ground cloves, cayenne and salt, plus 3/4 of a pint of water. Mix it, bring it to a boil, lower the heat, pop on a lid and go chill for ten minutes.
Next problem: I did not spend this ten-minute period chilling, as I should have. No, I thought it would be a good idea to plan ahead and roll out my pooris ahead of time, so that after I got the chicken simmering we could just fry them up and be done. I rolled out my pooris nice and thin, laid them on (spelt) floured parchment paper, and then went back to the main dish-- I added the chicken and lemon slices, a tablespoon of sugar and some pepper, mixed it, and put it on to simmer.
Joe really likes to fry the pooris, and I'm kind of a wimp about large quantities of boiling oil, so I like to let this be his job. (He also gets to chop the onions, so I owe him.) He got the oil nice and smoking hot, just like Jaffrey says, but had a hell of a time getting the pooris to puff up. Last time it was like magic-- this time, not so much. They kept coming out flat and hard. We speculated about what might be different this time-- and all we came up with was that last time, I was rolling the pooris out while Joe immediately fried them. Maybe they were drying out in the intervening ten minutes? Joe took a rolled-out poori, balled up the dough, and re-rolled it, and it puffed better than anything had so far. I took the few remaining ones and did the same. They still weren't beautiful like last time, but they did start to puff.
Fortunately, poori duds still taste really good. We ate them with the chicken, which had cooked down to a nice, thick, lemony sauce. The chicken was a bit underdone-- not enough to cause alarm, but next time I'll let it simmer longer. Still, it was really tender and flavorful, and I was glad I'd gotten the good stuff. And that sauce? Holy shit, you guys. That sauce was really good. We served it with rice and "poori chips" and Belgian Dubbel, and it was satisfying and tasty.
Lessons for next time:
-buy good chicken that actually grew up eating normal chicken food;
-don't let Madhur rush you on the browning;
-simmer for more like 25 or 30 minutes;
-don't roll out your poori dough until you're ready to drop it into the hot oil;
-don't spill anything that contains turmeric onto your favorite tan pants.
Yum.
This particular chicken recipe jumped out at me when I was flipping through the cookbook last night, trying to decide what to make. It sounded so good, I couldn't wait to get home and make it. And after the last wildly successful round of pooris, I was looking forward to more.
I made the poori dough first thing when I got home from work. It needs at least an hour and a half to rise. I figured dinner would take about an hour, so I had half an hour to chill before starting to cook in earnest. Joe and I were both getting hungry, so I broke out the two leftover aloo-ki-tikiya from the other night. We browned them in the cast iron pan and got a nice crust-- they did, however, turn bright yellow, which tells you just how much turmeric I've been using in that pan lately. Seriously, turmeric is powerful stuff. My cuticles have been yellow since I started this blog! And even my Tide Pen, the most amazing stain remover known to humanity, isn't removing the yellow stain from the sauce I spilled on my knee tonight. I got myself a nice laminated apron with extremely cute cherries on it to cook in; guess I'd better start wearing it when I eat!
Anyway. The potato patties held together much better after having the benefit of a couple of days in the fridge. We split a Flying Fish Belgian Dubbel with them and it was an excellent snack.
And when we finished... time to start cooking. I got the chicken from Godshall's Poultry in the Reading Terminal Market-- I went for the naturally fed free-range chicken, and had them cut it into piece when I bought it. I have to say, the quality was high. You have to skin it; apparently Indian cuisine, at least as interpreted by Jaffrey, who's from Delhi-- isn't big on chicken skin.
Onions, garlic and ginger go into the blender with a bit of water. We've been calling this "Indian mirepoix"-- mirepoix (yes, we had to look up the spelling) being the mixture of onions, carrots and celery that forms the base of so much French cooking. It seems like most of the North Indian recipes in this cookbook use onions, garlic and ginger as a mirepoix. It's a wonderfully flavorful base, and I'm violently allergic to celery so I like this one much better.
Next: fry some onions in oil the bottom of a stockpot, and get them good and brown and crispy. Mine came out perfectly, I was very proud. Take them out and put them on a paper towel. Next, the chicken pieces-- I had to do mine in two stages to give them room to move around. What you want to do here is brown them without totally cooking them through, because they'll be simmering for half an hour later. Jaffrey says to do this quickly over high heat. In the end, though, my chicken was a bit underdone, so next time I think I'll take a bit more time browning the chicken.
Remove the chicken and put on a plate with a paper towel. Now for the fun part: the sauce. First, take your mirepoix and fry it for ten minutes or so, till it's nice and golden brown and your eyes no longer fill with onion tears just from looking into the pot. Then add the next classic spice blend, another one that is becoming routine for me: coriander, cumin and turmeric, with the coriander/cumin ratio about 2:1. Fry that. Then two tbsp of yogurt go in, one spoonful at a time. I added the spoonfuls and then whisked quickly-- it's not in the recipe, but it seems to do the trick when it comes to keeping yogurt from curdling over the heat. (Thanks, Joe.) Then a tablespoon of tomato puree (I actually used paste), whisked in the same way. Then your warm spices: cinnamon, ground cloves, cayenne and salt, plus 3/4 of a pint of water. Mix it, bring it to a boil, lower the heat, pop on a lid and go chill for ten minutes.
Next problem: I did not spend this ten-minute period chilling, as I should have. No, I thought it would be a good idea to plan ahead and roll out my pooris ahead of time, so that after I got the chicken simmering we could just fry them up and be done. I rolled out my pooris nice and thin, laid them on (spelt) floured parchment paper, and then went back to the main dish-- I added the chicken and lemon slices, a tablespoon of sugar and some pepper, mixed it, and put it on to simmer.
Joe really likes to fry the pooris, and I'm kind of a wimp about large quantities of boiling oil, so I like to let this be his job. (He also gets to chop the onions, so I owe him.) He got the oil nice and smoking hot, just like Jaffrey says, but had a hell of a time getting the pooris to puff up. Last time it was like magic-- this time, not so much. They kept coming out flat and hard. We speculated about what might be different this time-- and all we came up with was that last time, I was rolling the pooris out while Joe immediately fried them. Maybe they were drying out in the intervening ten minutes? Joe took a rolled-out poori, balled up the dough, and re-rolled it, and it puffed better than anything had so far. I took the few remaining ones and did the same. They still weren't beautiful like last time, but they did start to puff.
Fortunately, poori duds still taste really good. We ate them with the chicken, which had cooked down to a nice, thick, lemony sauce. The chicken was a bit underdone-- not enough to cause alarm, but next time I'll let it simmer longer. Still, it was really tender and flavorful, and I was glad I'd gotten the good stuff. And that sauce? Holy shit, you guys. That sauce was really good. We served it with rice and "poori chips" and Belgian Dubbel, and it was satisfying and tasty.
Lessons for next time:
-buy good chicken that actually grew up eating normal chicken food;
-don't let Madhur rush you on the browning;
-simmer for more like 25 or 30 minutes;
-don't roll out your poori dough until you're ready to drop it into the hot oil;
-don't spill anything that contains turmeric onto your favorite tan pants.
Yum.
Saturday, May 26, 2007
Chicken Korma, Maya's Potatoes, Parathas
Hello again! I went on another flat-out cooking binge last night-- three recipes straight from Madhur Jaffrey. This was the most successful effort yet!
I'd initially intended to make just Chicken Korma for Anthony and Gagan, but Gagan had to bail, and then Amy came and she's a vegetarian, so I decided to do the potatoes. This was a wise move on my part- they were delicious and I think this recipe might become a standby.
The recipe actually calls for lamb or beef in the korma, but I had neither. Having done it, I see now that a very flavorful meat like lamb would really shine in this dark, rich sauce. But chicken wasn't half bad.
I did the parathas first. The recipe calls for whole wheat flour, so once again I used spelt flour. I was very happy with it, but I've had white-flour parathas that were amazing, so I'd like to try these with white gluten-free flour sometime. Parathas are like chapatis but with a few crucial differences. There's a bit of vegetable oil and some salt in the dough-- you knead it for 10 minutes or so and let it rise for half an hour, just like chapatis. You split the dough into 8 balls and roll it out into 5-inch circles, just like chapatis. Then-- here's where the magic happens-- you brush it with melted butter or ghee (we're out of ghee, so it was butter this time). Fold it in half and brush that with butter, then fold it in half again and roll it out flat until it's really, really thin. Brush your smoking-hot cast-iron pan (or, if you're more Indian than I am, your tava) with butter and throw a paratha in there. Let it get bubbly and turn it over, until it's nice and bubbly and brown in spots. Do this with all of your parathas, then wrap them in foil and throw them in a warm oven ten minutes before dinner.
I'm absolutely shocked that my initial experiments with Indian breads are going so well. I thought there would be lots of failures before I got anything edible. I have a feeling that this is the sort of recipe that's easy to do passably, but very difficult to perfect.
I started on the potatoes next. The dish, Maya's Potatoes, is named after Madhur Jaffrey's sister-in-law, according to the cookbook. Well, Maya, if you're reading this out there in Delhi, this post is dedicated to you. Those potatoes rocked.
To make these potatoes, you start by making the fried potatoes that Joe and I always make when we have steak or some other good piece of meat. Peel your potatoes and cut them into 1/2-inch to 1-inch chunks. Boil them, if you are so inclined (it can't hurt). While they're boiling, grind your spices. Both the korma and potato recipes called for onions and garlic (and in the case of the potatoes, ginger) to be ground to a smooth paste in the food processor, so you can do that ahead of time too. Get your mise en place together before things get chaotic. (And before your guests come, if possible, so you don't get distracted while measuring.)
Get your cast iron pan nice and hot. (Yes, I'm a cast-iron junkie.) Get about 1/4 inch of vegetable oil, maybe even more, hot in there. Throw in the potatoes, make sure every chunk is touching the pan, and then WALK AWAY. Don't stir them, don't touch them. Sprinkle them with salt and then let the cast iron work its magic. When they get nice and golden brown to brown on the bottom, turn them over and leave them alone. Once the potatoes are good and brown, take them out with a slotted spoon and set them aside.
Now for the sauce. Drain out most of the oil, but leave a few tablespoons. Add the asafetida, mustard seeds (careful, they pop!), bay leaf and dried red chilies. (The recipe also called for fenugreek, fennel seeds and onion seeds, but we didn't have any. Clearly, it's time for a field trip to Edison.) Fry that for a bit. Add your onion-garlic-ginger mixture, mix well and fry for five minutes. Then add your tomatoes-- you can put fresh ones in the blender, but we were out so we used crushed ones from a can, along with water, salt and sugar. Fry a minute. Then add the potatoes, cover, and simmer for 10 minutes. Turn the potatoes and simmer for 10 more minutes. By this time, the water will have cooked off and you will have nice tender potatoes coated with tomato mixture.
I was making the korma simultaneously with the potatoes, but I failed to calculate the cooking time, and realized that, though the potatoes were done, the korma would be another 45 minutes. Which meant it was Amy the vegetarian's lucky day-- first course was potatoes and parathas, served with (of course) Yard's Saison. By the time I got to the table people were exclaiming, and when I tasted it I was happy too. Easy and seriously yummy. I plan to make this regularly!
As for the korma... well, first I made the rice. I threw a cinnamon stick into the rice cooker, which made the whole thing aromatic. The first step in the korma is to make fried onions for the topping-- just cut them into thin half-rings, as though you're making fajitas, and fry them in oil. Be careful not to burn them. Ours were in a bit too long, but still tasty. Then remove them with a slotted spoon, and add the chicken (chopped into 1-inch pieces). Brown it but don't worry about cooking it through. Remove to a plate, and let the pan juices and oil cool for a while.
Once it's cooled down, stir in the onion/garlic paste and turn the burner back on. Fry for ten minutes and then add coriander seeds, cumin and turmeric. Fry, then add tomatoes and the warm spices: mace (we substituted allspice), cinnamon, nutmeg and cloves. Fry that for 5 minutes. Then add water, salt, cayenne and black pepper, then the chicken. Simmer for half an hour.
Either before you start or during this simmering period, put 10 pecans and 1/4 cup blanched almonds into the blender with some water. (You can blanch almonds by boiling them in water for a few minutes until the water is brown.) Blend to a smooth paste. Once the half hour is up, stir this into the pan with 2 tbsp yogurt or sour cream (we used yogurt). Interestingly, I had no problems with the yogurt curdling this time around. You can simmer this for up to half an hour; however, if you're using chicken, it'll be tender enough well before half an hour is up. I was able to serve this after simmering for ten minutes. I just spooned it onto the rice and served with the rest of the parathas. It was GOOD. Seriously. I'm bringing Gagan some leftovers tonight to get the opinion of someone with an Indian palate, and I'll be curious to hear what he says, but just subjectively-- it was GOOD. Even our vegetarian had to try the sauce.
So: yeah, this was definitely a success. Main lesson: read the recipe carefully and calculate your cooking time before you start.
I'd initially intended to make just Chicken Korma for Anthony and Gagan, but Gagan had to bail, and then Amy came and she's a vegetarian, so I decided to do the potatoes. This was a wise move on my part- they were delicious and I think this recipe might become a standby.
The recipe actually calls for lamb or beef in the korma, but I had neither. Having done it, I see now that a very flavorful meat like lamb would really shine in this dark, rich sauce. But chicken wasn't half bad.
I did the parathas first. The recipe calls for whole wheat flour, so once again I used spelt flour. I was very happy with it, but I've had white-flour parathas that were amazing, so I'd like to try these with white gluten-free flour sometime. Parathas are like chapatis but with a few crucial differences. There's a bit of vegetable oil and some salt in the dough-- you knead it for 10 minutes or so and let it rise for half an hour, just like chapatis. You split the dough into 8 balls and roll it out into 5-inch circles, just like chapatis. Then-- here's where the magic happens-- you brush it with melted butter or ghee (we're out of ghee, so it was butter this time). Fold it in half and brush that with butter, then fold it in half again and roll it out flat until it's really, really thin. Brush your smoking-hot cast-iron pan (or, if you're more Indian than I am, your tava) with butter and throw a paratha in there. Let it get bubbly and turn it over, until it's nice and bubbly and brown in spots. Do this with all of your parathas, then wrap them in foil and throw them in a warm oven ten minutes before dinner.
I'm absolutely shocked that my initial experiments with Indian breads are going so well. I thought there would be lots of failures before I got anything edible. I have a feeling that this is the sort of recipe that's easy to do passably, but very difficult to perfect.
I started on the potatoes next. The dish, Maya's Potatoes, is named after Madhur Jaffrey's sister-in-law, according to the cookbook. Well, Maya, if you're reading this out there in Delhi, this post is dedicated to you. Those potatoes rocked.
To make these potatoes, you start by making the fried potatoes that Joe and I always make when we have steak or some other good piece of meat. Peel your potatoes and cut them into 1/2-inch to 1-inch chunks. Boil them, if you are so inclined (it can't hurt). While they're boiling, grind your spices. Both the korma and potato recipes called for onions and garlic (and in the case of the potatoes, ginger) to be ground to a smooth paste in the food processor, so you can do that ahead of time too. Get your mise en place together before things get chaotic. (And before your guests come, if possible, so you don't get distracted while measuring.)
Get your cast iron pan nice and hot. (Yes, I'm a cast-iron junkie.) Get about 1/4 inch of vegetable oil, maybe even more, hot in there. Throw in the potatoes, make sure every chunk is touching the pan, and then WALK AWAY. Don't stir them, don't touch them. Sprinkle them with salt and then let the cast iron work its magic. When they get nice and golden brown to brown on the bottom, turn them over and leave them alone. Once the potatoes are good and brown, take them out with a slotted spoon and set them aside.
Now for the sauce. Drain out most of the oil, but leave a few tablespoons. Add the asafetida, mustard seeds (careful, they pop!), bay leaf and dried red chilies. (The recipe also called for fenugreek, fennel seeds and onion seeds, but we didn't have any. Clearly, it's time for a field trip to Edison.) Fry that for a bit. Add your onion-garlic-ginger mixture, mix well and fry for five minutes. Then add your tomatoes-- you can put fresh ones in the blender, but we were out so we used crushed ones from a can, along with water, salt and sugar. Fry a minute. Then add the potatoes, cover, and simmer for 10 minutes. Turn the potatoes and simmer for 10 more minutes. By this time, the water will have cooked off and you will have nice tender potatoes coated with tomato mixture.
I was making the korma simultaneously with the potatoes, but I failed to calculate the cooking time, and realized that, though the potatoes were done, the korma would be another 45 minutes. Which meant it was Amy the vegetarian's lucky day-- first course was potatoes and parathas, served with (of course) Yard's Saison. By the time I got to the table people were exclaiming, and when I tasted it I was happy too. Easy and seriously yummy. I plan to make this regularly!
As for the korma... well, first I made the rice. I threw a cinnamon stick into the rice cooker, which made the whole thing aromatic. The first step in the korma is to make fried onions for the topping-- just cut them into thin half-rings, as though you're making fajitas, and fry them in oil. Be careful not to burn them. Ours were in a bit too long, but still tasty. Then remove them with a slotted spoon, and add the chicken (chopped into 1-inch pieces). Brown it but don't worry about cooking it through. Remove to a plate, and let the pan juices and oil cool for a while.
Once it's cooled down, stir in the onion/garlic paste and turn the burner back on. Fry for ten minutes and then add coriander seeds, cumin and turmeric. Fry, then add tomatoes and the warm spices: mace (we substituted allspice), cinnamon, nutmeg and cloves. Fry that for 5 minutes. Then add water, salt, cayenne and black pepper, then the chicken. Simmer for half an hour.
Either before you start or during this simmering period, put 10 pecans and 1/4 cup blanched almonds into the blender with some water. (You can blanch almonds by boiling them in water for a few minutes until the water is brown.) Blend to a smooth paste. Once the half hour is up, stir this into the pan with 2 tbsp yogurt or sour cream (we used yogurt). Interestingly, I had no problems with the yogurt curdling this time around. You can simmer this for up to half an hour; however, if you're using chicken, it'll be tender enough well before half an hour is up. I was able to serve this after simmering for ten minutes. I just spooned it onto the rice and served with the rest of the parathas. It was GOOD. Seriously. I'm bringing Gagan some leftovers tonight to get the opinion of someone with an Indian palate, and I'll be curious to hear what he says, but just subjectively-- it was GOOD. Even our vegetarian had to try the sauce.
So: yeah, this was definitely a success. Main lesson: read the recipe carefully and calculate your cooking time before you start.
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