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 vegetarian. Show all posts
Showing posts with label vegetarian. 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, June 10, 2007
Pork chops cooked with whole spices and tamarind juice; Maya's Potatoes with Yogurt
It's a lazy Sunday in Fishtown, Mythbusters is on the tube, and the weather is cooling off. Time for some nice Amish pork chops and potatoes. I was raised on meat and potatoes; this is just a more interesting variation.
First of all, you have to get good pork chops. We get ours at L. Halteman Amish Foods in the Reading Terminal Market. The preparation is really easy-- time-consuming, because of all the simmering, but not difficult. (Which is actually a common theme in the dishes I'm making.) You heat just enough oil to coat the bottom of your stockpot, and brown the pork chops. Jaffrey says to do this in two batches, but I was halving her recipe-- she called for 8 pork chops, and there are only two of us. Still, I had trouble fitting all four pork chops until they cooked down and shrank a bit. Brown them, take them out, put them on a plate for a minute. Put in two whole garlic cloves, a cinnamon stick, a couple of dried red peppers, and some cloves, peppercorns and cardamom pods. Fry for a few seconds and then add a bit of salt and a cup of water. (You have hot oil going here, so I'd really recommend shielding yourself with the pot lid while you do this.) Re-introduce the pork chops and simmer for half an hour, turning occasionally. Things will be smelling really good right about now. When the half hour is over, time for the remaining ingredients. Jaffrey doesn't tell you to do this, but I took out the pork chops for a minute while I whisked in the tamarind paste, sugar and salt-- it just seemed like a real pain to mix otherwise. Reintroduced the pork chops and simmered for another half hour, turning occasionally.
Now for the potatoes. I didn't start them until I had the pork chops simmering, which was a bit of a miscalculation-- the chops were done well before the potatoes. Best to start these at the same time. I made these potatoes back at the beginning of this blog, and they were quite tasty. But between then and now, I've made a few spice-buying trips, so I had things like dried chillies, fenugreek, caraway seeds, and fennel, which were missing before. I also decided to do the variation with yogurt. (Jaffrey has you prepare Maya's Potatoes and then adds a paragraph about adding the yogurt.) You fry your potatoes till they're nice and golden brown, then drain the oil. If you're me, you'll lose control of the heavy cast iron pan and end up dumping some potatoes into the sink and almost burning your hand. If you're not me, you may be able to avoid this.
Next, fry your spices. Now, technically, you're supposed to make this mixture in the stockpot, then introduce the potatoes from the frying pan and simmer in the stockpot. However, my stockpot was busy simmering pork chops, so I had to be creative. I made the spice/tomato mixture in a small saucepan-- fried the spices, then added the onion/garlic paste from the blender (no ginger this time) plus turmeric, fried that for five minutes, added tomatoes and sugar, and fried that for five minutes. The mixture smelled absolutely incredible. I added it back into the frying pan and coated the potatoes. I added in a pint of water, then remembered that I was supposed to be halving the recipe and that it should be half a pint. Yeah, I'm not too bright. I compensated by cooking this uncovered for longer than called for, then covering. This gets about 20 minutes of simmering, all told.
When that's done, turn off the heat and let the potatoes cool for a few minutes. Jaffrey says to mix in the yogurt and heat on low heat, not enough to boil it (that would curdle the yogurt) but enough to heat it through. I found that the cast iron pan retained enough heat that merely folding in the yogurt and waiting for a minute was enough to heat the whole thing through.
Served with Flying Fish HopFish Ale. The pork chops had a nice flavor, but were a little dried out. Spooning the pot juices over the chops helped, but I'd shorten the cooking time next time.
As for the potatoes-- holy shit, you guys. We both ate too much because we couldn't keep away from these potatoes. I can't tell you how much of a difference having the right spices made. We could taste the fenugreek and caraway seeds. It had this wonderful toasty, complex flavor that wasn't there before. So nice. Oh my.
Notes for next time:
-Don't cook the pork chops for the full half hour each time. Not necessary.
-Remember, Sarah: cast iron pans are heavy.
-Spiciness! One of my continuing critiques throughout these posts is that whatever I make "could have been spicier." I'm thinking that Jaffrey, in writing an Indian cookbook for Brits, decided to be really conservative with the hot spices. She usually gives a range-- one to three chili peppers, to taste (optional). And when she does, I use three-- and it's still not that spicy. Screw that. Next time she tells me one to three, I'm adding four.
To be clear: I'm a recovering spice wimp. I grew up eating food with no spices whatsoever-- maybe some garlic salt if we were feeling really adventurous. When I went to college and started hanging out with Indians, my friend Deepa used to make her kebabs especially mild just for me, and I'd still be sweating and tearing up while I ate them. I've evolved since then, and I love spicy food, although I'm not a hot-sauce daredevil like my stepbrother AJ. In the last year or so, I've been deliberately trying to train my palate to tolerate hotter spices-- I plan to visit India in the next few years and I don't want to die! So: spice levels are going to rise. Be prepared.
I'm leaving on Thursday for the Socialism 2007 conference, and the food at the hotel is not allergy-friendly, so I'll be making several dishes this week to pack and take with me to Chicago. There's a big grass-fed chuck roast from Livengood Farms waiting for me, and some Fair Food Farmstand lamb stew meat that's going into a chana dal recipe. Mushroom dal is also on the agenda. Stay tuned.
First of all, you have to get good pork chops. We get ours at L. Halteman Amish Foods in the Reading Terminal Market. The preparation is really easy-- time-consuming, because of all the simmering, but not difficult. (Which is actually a common theme in the dishes I'm making.) You heat just enough oil to coat the bottom of your stockpot, and brown the pork chops. Jaffrey says to do this in two batches, but I was halving her recipe-- she called for 8 pork chops, and there are only two of us. Still, I had trouble fitting all four pork chops until they cooked down and shrank a bit. Brown them, take them out, put them on a plate for a minute. Put in two whole garlic cloves, a cinnamon stick, a couple of dried red peppers, and some cloves, peppercorns and cardamom pods. Fry for a few seconds and then add a bit of salt and a cup of water. (You have hot oil going here, so I'd really recommend shielding yourself with the pot lid while you do this.) Re-introduce the pork chops and simmer for half an hour, turning occasionally. Things will be smelling really good right about now. When the half hour is over, time for the remaining ingredients. Jaffrey doesn't tell you to do this, but I took out the pork chops for a minute while I whisked in the tamarind paste, sugar and salt-- it just seemed like a real pain to mix otherwise. Reintroduced the pork chops and simmered for another half hour, turning occasionally.
Now for the potatoes. I didn't start them until I had the pork chops simmering, which was a bit of a miscalculation-- the chops were done well before the potatoes. Best to start these at the same time. I made these potatoes back at the beginning of this blog, and they were quite tasty. But between then and now, I've made a few spice-buying trips, so I had things like dried chillies, fenugreek, caraway seeds, and fennel, which were missing before. I also decided to do the variation with yogurt. (Jaffrey has you prepare Maya's Potatoes and then adds a paragraph about adding the yogurt.) You fry your potatoes till they're nice and golden brown, then drain the oil. If you're me, you'll lose control of the heavy cast iron pan and end up dumping some potatoes into the sink and almost burning your hand. If you're not me, you may be able to avoid this.
Next, fry your spices. Now, technically, you're supposed to make this mixture in the stockpot, then introduce the potatoes from the frying pan and simmer in the stockpot. However, my stockpot was busy simmering pork chops, so I had to be creative. I made the spice/tomato mixture in a small saucepan-- fried the spices, then added the onion/garlic paste from the blender (no ginger this time) plus turmeric, fried that for five minutes, added tomatoes and sugar, and fried that for five minutes. The mixture smelled absolutely incredible. I added it back into the frying pan and coated the potatoes. I added in a pint of water, then remembered that I was supposed to be halving the recipe and that it should be half a pint. Yeah, I'm not too bright. I compensated by cooking this uncovered for longer than called for, then covering. This gets about 20 minutes of simmering, all told.
When that's done, turn off the heat and let the potatoes cool for a few minutes. Jaffrey says to mix in the yogurt and heat on low heat, not enough to boil it (that would curdle the yogurt) but enough to heat it through. I found that the cast iron pan retained enough heat that merely folding in the yogurt and waiting for a minute was enough to heat the whole thing through.
Served with Flying Fish HopFish Ale. The pork chops had a nice flavor, but were a little dried out. Spooning the pot juices over the chops helped, but I'd shorten the cooking time next time.
As for the potatoes-- holy shit, you guys. We both ate too much because we couldn't keep away from these potatoes. I can't tell you how much of a difference having the right spices made. We could taste the fenugreek and caraway seeds. It had this wonderful toasty, complex flavor that wasn't there before. So nice. Oh my.
Notes for next time:
-Don't cook the pork chops for the full half hour each time. Not necessary.
-Remember, Sarah: cast iron pans are heavy.
-Spiciness! One of my continuing critiques throughout these posts is that whatever I make "could have been spicier." I'm thinking that Jaffrey, in writing an Indian cookbook for Brits, decided to be really conservative with the hot spices. She usually gives a range-- one to three chili peppers, to taste (optional). And when she does, I use three-- and it's still not that spicy. Screw that. Next time she tells me one to three, I'm adding four.
To be clear: I'm a recovering spice wimp. I grew up eating food with no spices whatsoever-- maybe some garlic salt if we were feeling really adventurous. When I went to college and started hanging out with Indians, my friend Deepa used to make her kebabs especially mild just for me, and I'd still be sweating and tearing up while I ate them. I've evolved since then, and I love spicy food, although I'm not a hot-sauce daredevil like my stepbrother AJ. In the last year or so, I've been deliberately trying to train my palate to tolerate hotter spices-- I plan to visit India in the next few years and I don't want to die! So: spice levels are going to rise. Be prepared.
I'm leaving on Thursday for the Socialism 2007 conference, and the food at the hotel is not allergy-friendly, so I'll be making several dishes this week to pack and take with me to Chicago. There's a big grass-fed chuck roast from Livengood Farms waiting for me, and some Fair Food Farmstand lamb stew meat that's going into a chana dal recipe. Mushroom dal is also on the agenda. Stay tuned.
Sunday, May 27, 2007
Mushroom Polenta, and Leftover Breakfast Mushroom Polenta
Joe invented this riff on the Moosewood Cookbook's plain polenta recipe last night for a party. Then I got a migraine and we ended up not making it to the party, so now we have a ton of polenta to doctor up for brunch today. The recipes, courtesy of Joe:
Joe's Mushroom Polenta
5c water
1 1/2 c cornmeal (we used roasted cornmeal, which has a distinct, delicious flavor)
salt
pepper
4 shiitake mushrooms, sliced thin
1 tbsp black truffle oil
1 ripe, fresh tomato, peeled and diced
1/2 c aged gouda, shredded
1 tsbp parmesan, shredded
olive oil to taste
Boil 4 cups water. While it's boiling, mix 1 cup of water with the cornmeal. Mix until it forms a batter. When the water boils, spoon the batter into the boiling water. Whisk until smooth.
Lower heat and simmer for approximately 10 minutes, gently stirring occasionally. Keep an eye on this-- it likes to bubble over.
Turn off heat and add the mix-ins-- mushrooms, gouda and some olive oil. Stir in. Taste, and add salt and olive oil as needed.
In a separate bowl, mix diced tomato, truffle oil, parmesan, salt and pepper.
Serve in a bowl, topped with tomato mixture. This should be enough for several people, 4-6 maybe? This made a bowl big enough to bring to a party, at any rate.
And if you have leftovers...
Breakfast Polenta
Bacon
Leftover polenta
Leftover tomato mixture
Get your cast iron pan nice and hot, and fry the bacon in it. Remove bacon to drain on a paper towel.
Polenta should be easily slice-able. Fry in the bacon fat. Serve with bacon and top with either tomato mixture or dark honey (we used buckwheat honey).
Joe's Mushroom Polenta
5c water
1 1/2 c cornmeal (we used roasted cornmeal, which has a distinct, delicious flavor)
salt
pepper
4 shiitake mushrooms, sliced thin
1 tbsp black truffle oil
1 ripe, fresh tomato, peeled and diced
1/2 c aged gouda, shredded
1 tsbp parmesan, shredded
olive oil to taste
Boil 4 cups water. While it's boiling, mix 1 cup of water with the cornmeal. Mix until it forms a batter. When the water boils, spoon the batter into the boiling water. Whisk until smooth.
Lower heat and simmer for approximately 10 minutes, gently stirring occasionally. Keep an eye on this-- it likes to bubble over.
Turn off heat and add the mix-ins-- mushrooms, gouda and some olive oil. Stir in. Taste, and add salt and olive oil as needed.
In a separate bowl, mix diced tomato, truffle oil, parmesan, salt and pepper.
Serve in a bowl, topped with tomato mixture. This should be enough for several people, 4-6 maybe? This made a bowl big enough to bring to a party, at any rate.
And if you have leftovers...
Breakfast Polenta
Bacon
Leftover polenta
Leftover tomato mixture
Get your cast iron pan nice and hot, and fry the bacon in it. Remove bacon to drain on a paper towel.
Polenta should be easily slice-able. Fry in the bacon fat. Serve with bacon and top with either tomato mixture or dark honey (we used buckwheat honey).
Saturday, May 26, 2007
Guacamole
I made guacamole this afternoon for a picnic our friends Wayne and Jen threw in New Jersey. It's always a hit at parties, and it's actually really easy. You just get the best, ripest avocadoes you can find, mash them up with a potato masher, and mix in chopped garlic (a few cloves, depending on your taste), onions or shallots (optional-- I usually don't bother) and cilantro (as much as you like-- also optional). Then add a generous amount of salt and lime juice—just keep tasting it till it seems right to you. Don't be shy about the salt, the avocadoes really suck it in. It's really all about good quality ingredients. Also, if you can, make it a bit ahead of time and let it sit (covered, with the plastic touching it) so the flavors can blend together.
By the way, do you know the best way to pit and slice an avocado? I learned this from Alton Brown. First, get yourself a ripe avocado. If you make a fist and feel the flesh underneath your thumb, that's about how the avocado should feel when you squeeze it (gently). Use a large chef's knife. Slice down the middle of the top of the avocado until you reach the pit. Then bring your knife around in a circle until you've cut the whole thing in half around the pit. Grab each side in one hand and twist, and it'll come right apart (if it's ripe). To remove the pit, take your knife and hack it with a bit of force into the middle of the pit. Twist the knife and the pit will come off, then pinch the knife and push down on the pit to remove it from the knife blade. To remove the flesh from the skin, score the flesh into cubes-- just carve a grid into the avocado flesh with your knife. Remove any brown spots with your knife. Then use a spoon to scoop the cubes right into your bowl.
Serve with tortilla chips.
By the way, do you know the best way to pit and slice an avocado? I learned this from Alton Brown. First, get yourself a ripe avocado. If you make a fist and feel the flesh underneath your thumb, that's about how the avocado should feel when you squeeze it (gently). Use a large chef's knife. Slice down the middle of the top of the avocado until you reach the pit. Then bring your knife around in a circle until you've cut the whole thing in half around the pit. Grab each side in one hand and twist, and it'll come right apart (if it's ripe). To remove the pit, take your knife and hack it with a bit of force into the middle of the pit. Twist the knife and the pit will come off, then pinch the knife and push down on the pit to remove it from the knife blade. To remove the flesh from the skin, score the flesh into cubes-- just carve a grid into the avocado flesh with your knife. Remove any brown spots with your knife. Then use a spoon to scoop the cubes right into your bowl.
Serve with tortilla chips.
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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