58 posts tagged “indian”
Yeah, yeah — that is mashed, garlic potatoes, heheh. And plain sliced tomatoes with salt, pepper and basil, grilled summer squash and cucumber (with salt, pepper and peanut oil). I think I'll call it the UN platter.
I started out by making a simple marinade with Thai ingredients (for the amber-colored chicken pieces on the right): red Thai curry paste and fish sauce. That ended up a little too liquid, and smelled very strong (basically, I used too much fish sauce) so I tried diluting and thickening it with some sour cream. That mellowed it out a bit, but I also left the marinate stand for a bit, which helped too. At that point, my "simple marinade" idea went out the window completely, and I added a lot of stuff, because I was still unhappy with how it smelled (and tasted)... I added a mild chili powder, cumin seeds, a touch of soy sauce, salt, pepper, and due to a last moment's inspiration, torn kaffir lime leaves and a little lemon juice. The kaffir lime leaves were definitely a good idea, but then those things are always great.
The marinade seemed much better, but I was still worried about the result, so I decided to do only half of the chicken with that, and make a simple (and actually keep it simple this time around!) Indian marinade for the rest. A sweet curry powder and a very small touch of cayenne pepper for a bit of kick (I used too little; it had no noticeable effect), salt and some more sour cream. Here, I made the mistake of using too much sour cream, and when I added the curry powder, the marinade's color barely changed. So I kept pouring curry powder in until I got the color I wanted — which meant I used way too much curry powder. To the point where the sour cream started lumping up. And of course, the curry taste was completely overwhelming.
The Thai style chicken actually turned out very well, though. Which I thought was funny... I think I might try to do another Thai style thing like this, but without pre-made things like the curry paste. Kaffir lime leaves, fish sauce, lime juice, cayenne pepper — I don't know, but should be worth experimenting with.
Oh and one thing I liked about this meal, is using two different marinades. It's not a lot of extra work, and having the same meat being served with two different flavors makes for a more interesting and varied meal. Plus, if you're experimenting, you'll get experience from two different experiments at the same time. And with two, if one turns out bad, there's always a chance the other one might be good.
The first recipe I tried for this Indian potatoes-and-cauliflower stew was from the special features section on the DVD for the movie "Bend it like Beckham." The director included this wonderful little how-to thing where she cooked it in a restaurant's kitchen, while her mother and "auntie" observed in the background and offered various um, criticisms... It was pretty funny, but also endearing. I must have played that clip about a dozen times, to try get the recipe from it (the DVD did include a recipe, but it didn't reflect what she actually cooked).
Since then, I've found a much better recipe — not just better tasting, but simpler also. Of all places, it was from this Betty Crocker book. The last time I made this, it ended up very watery, and with a really pale color. Didn't look appetizing at all. But I'm very happy with the way this turned out. This stuff makes great left-overs, too. It's very typical for Indian stews to improve like that — it gets better as the flavors gets a chance to mingle.
Western vegetarianism is far more obsessed with meat than meat-eaters, with fake hamburgers and things like that. Indian vegetarian food is different. If I had to become a vegetarian, there'd be a lot of things that I'd miss. But with this dish, you don't feel as if anything is missing. I always think that everything is better with bacon, but not this one. It's complete, as is.
There's just nothing better than collective cooking... When friends get together and cook together, that's the ticket, in my opinion. And if your friends happens to be better cooks than yourself, well, that doesn't hurt, either, heheheh.
This was another naan attempt by me. And they were quite decent. It seems that every time I make naan, I make some sort of mistake -- which is a good thing, since you only learn from mistakes. Like chess. But nevermind about the naan; the kebabs were the showpiece of this meal. These kind of minced meat kebabs are amazing. I encountered them first at Abdul's Takeaway in Manchester; as Seekh Kebabs -- that is, lamb.
Essentially, seekh kebabs are the equivalent of hamburgers -- uncomplicated, ground meat products. The only reason why us Westerners end up adoring foods like this, is because the equivalent food in our culture has become so commercialized, homogenized, trivialized and generally bastardized, that they no longer taste very good. (I mean, hell, I make hamburgers, and I'd put 'em up against any McTurdburger, any day of the week -- and I don't even think my burgers are all that spectacular, to be honest.)
The naan was -- as always -- very interesting. They tasted great. But the damn tile shattered. I initially did my naan on a pizza stone, in the weber kettle grill, but the poor ol' pizza stone eventually cracked. So I started doing them in the oven (on a much better pizza stone, that I didn't dare risk using on the grill). But as good as I thought my naan got in the oven, I still thought it'd be better over a genuine charcoal grill. So I went back to the grill, but using some cheap tiles.
The problem with a grill and a pizza stone/tile is, it heats up too fast, and cools down too fast -- and there's nothing much you can do about it. Or at least nothing that I've thought of, so far. I heat the coals up in a chimney, so when I spread those out and put the griddle on, and the tile/pizza stone, things get very hot, very fast. In an oven, the heating up process would be a lot slower. After the naan is cooked, I'd remove the tile/stone -- and that'd cool it down very rapidly also; much faster than what you'd get in an oven (the reason why I'd normally remove them, is because I'd cook something else on the grill, after the naan were done).
This time around, I learned two things about naan: you've gotta oil the dough before you rest it in the fridge. I read that the dough should be covered with oil so that it could expand without getting stuck to anything, but this sounded kinda dumb to me. I was right. But there is another reason why the dough should be covered with oil -- so that it won't develop a "skin." I rest my dough in a "tupperware" type container, which I figured would eliminate any coagulated skin problem -- I was wrong. Covering the dough with oil is important.
The second thing I learned was, there really is no need to do any fancy-pants hand-stretched forming of the dough. Roll the stuff out with a standard rolling-pin (or a freakin' wine bottle -- it makes no nevermind) -- if your dough is good, and it has had time to do its magic, you can roll it hard and rough, and it'll expand and puff up wonderfully. Even on shattered tiles. I'm getting a hang on this whole naan business, methinks. :)
It was just a matter of convenience, but I was curious to see how the dough would react to being put back in the fridge for storage, after the whole proofing process.
One noticeable difference was that the -- oh, I'm not sure what the word is, elasticity or whatnot -- of the dough was such that it tore a lot easier. It wasn't as sturdy. So I got some holes -- you can see the hole at the top there, with the two, charred bits on either side. But below it, there is another "tear," except it doesn't go all the way through the naan. The rest of the naan is also marked by a lot of similar, irregular tears all over its surface. It seems the integrity, or sturdiness (or whatever the right culinary term is) was adversely affected by this prolonged storage. This had no negative affect on the taste of the naan though. And it actually had a positive affect on the surface texture -- I like a slight crust on my naans, and a variation in thickness of the bread itself, as well as an irregular surface texture is really very nice.
Well, this bread was anything but deflated and dense. In fact, it was far airier and fluffy than the one I stretched. It didn't have the interesting, pock-parked crust -- but then again, it didn't have holes surrounded by carbonized dough, either.
This was extremely interesting to me, since shaping the dough with a rolling pin is FAR easier than stretching it by hand. I rolled it out fairly thinly, but I didn't want to take it too far, in case it would burn. Turns out I was too timid -- this naan actually ended up fluffing up and becoming far thicker than the stretched naan. Also, it developed some of those typical bubble puff-ups that restaurant naans have.
I guess I'll go back to rolling them again next time around -- and I'll try not to be timid about rolling them really thin.
Man, you learn something every time you cook. Unless you're smart enough to get it right the first time around of course, but what fun is that? :)
I wasn't paying much attention to this poor aloo gobi, because I was completely preoccupied with my naan (I've been on a roll with those suckers lately).
Oh well, they can't all be Cadillacs.
This particular bread was used to accompany a Meen Kari, which is a very aromatic, and slightly hot fish soup (at least this recipe is -- there are variations). And what I wanted, was a thick naan, to soak up the soup. Shaping a naan is just about as important (and, I have discovered -- as difficult) as all the other elements that goes into creating the thing. In a way, I guess it's pretty much like shaping a pizza dough. The consistency and general attributes of the dough itself obviously influences what you can actually do to the dough. I'm reasonably confident (but by no means certain) that my dough is right at this point -- but my abilities to shape it leaves a few things to be desired. This is a little frustrating: I didn't realize I'd have to become a pizza pie-tossing, juggling acrobat just to create a simple naan bread.
I think this certainly is better than a typical restaurant naan. The air-bubbles in the crumb are bigger, which creates a lighter, fluffier feel to it. The crust is crispy. But most important of all, the crumb has an actual taste to it.
My third go at this dish, and I'm becoming very comfortable with it. I had the dough for some naan to go with it -- cooking it isn't a big deal (not anymore, at least, now that I've got the hang of it), but I knew I was gonna be pretty tired, so I wanted something easy, and that's Meen Kari in a nutshell.
1 Tbsp ghee or butter
6 shallots (Occasionally I use a red onion, since I always have them on hand)
1 1/2 tbsp AP flour
3 tbsp tomato paste
1 tsp mild chili powder
1 tsp ground coriander seeds
1/2 tsp ground turmeric
1 finely diced Serrano chili
1 tsp salt (or to taste)
3 cups of water
1 lb. Salmon fillet or steak, deboned, skinned and cut into 1" pieces
1 cup thick coconut milk (make sure to include the thick bits of the milk)
1 tsp white wine vinegar
Freshly crushed black peppercorns
Chopped cilantro (coriander) leaves
1. Sautée shallots in ghee/butter until browned.
2. Add flour, tomato paste, chili powder, coriander, turmeric and salt. Mix well.
3. While stirring constantly (to avoid lumps), slowly add the water and bring to a boil.
4. Add fish, cover and let simmer for 15-20 minutes, until the fish is cooked.
5. Remove from heat and stir in coconut milk and vinegar.
6. Sprinkle with crushed black pepper and chopped cilantro (coriander) leaves and serve.
If you don't have naan, some plain rice in the bottom of the bowl would work very nicely for soaking up the juices, too. And of course, there's no strict need to stay on an Asian theme, either: you could just get a baguette. After all, the Vietnamese learnt to make a baguette from the French -- theirs is made from rice flower, and called Bánh mì.
So yeah, I was in Kingston, Jamaica. I'm sure the tourist resorts are fantastic, but man oh man -- the rest of the place was a mess. They were killing each others like it was going out of fashion. And they'd just recently ruined a power-plant that provided one third of the country's electricity, so I hung out (ie., drank) with these dudes who were repairing the plant. Well, their company's suggestion, for the country of Jamaica, was to bring a couple of barges over, to tie them over. But the Jamaican government declined, seeing as how the last time they brought those barges over, those barges didn't operate very well. Which is understandable, seeing as how those barges were manufactured during WWII, as temporary power plants that were moved up and down the Mississippi river, as a backup plan in case of a German invasion of the US.
So the company did the only reasonable thing -- they renamed the barges. And the Jamaicans said "yeah okay, man." And that was that.
Sorry, can't think of anything sensible to say about this dish. I guess this is more of a diary, than a blog. But how can you resist something called "Saag Ghosht"?
The last three meals I made were great. So I got a little ambitious and went for something unusual. I tried to create a galette -- well, hell, to cut to the chase: a tandoori spiced salmon pizza with pâte brisée in lieu of the pizza dough. It didn't turn out too good, though. The pastry wasn't cooked through -- only the edges had that lovely crispy crust... The tandoori paste was overwhelming. It looked good, but the taste -- not so good.
Considering the rather obvious (in retrospect) fact that short crust pastry is very rich, maybe I should have done something to the tandoori paste, to lighten it. I don't know.
This is a tricky one. But I still think the overall idea is sound, though.
And yeah, the rice is the same as the last dish I made. I guess I can be a bit predictable.
Well a few years ago they apparently had a vote on the matter, and now Chicken Tikka Masala is their new national dish. This is pretty funny -- and sad -- in several different ways. Funny, because it's like Germany ending up with gefilte fish as their national dish after occupying Israel. And a little sad (but a funny kind of sad) because CTM has such an odd, and/or controversial origin.
CTM is the most popular Indian restaurant dish in the world. But the recipes I've found for this dish have always been a complete disappointment. The only way I've managed to create a CTM that I liked, is when I tried to recreate it the way it was supposedly invented: Ie., an angry (and ignorant) customer sent his Chicken Tikka back, demanding that the chef put some gravy on it... According to the story, the cook warmed up some tomato soup, slopped it on the plate, and sent it back out again. The customer was happy, and thus Chicken Tikka Masala was born. I've heard many variations on this story. One took place in England, one in Scotland (one of them even involved Swedish royalty, for some odd reason), and at least two that happened in India itself. The first time I heard of CTM, it was a British military officer who demanded gravy, and the second one was an all-Indian affair, with no British persons involved whatsoever -- but that bit just might be a tad influenced by nationalistic fervor. Not that I'd blame 'em: it must be a bit upsetting for a country such as India, with what is arguably the most amazing culinary heritage in the world to have an occupying force bastardize a dish of theirs, make it their own national dish -- and now, Marks & Spencer is actually selling microwave TV dinners with CTM to India. I think Gandhi woulda kicked Churchill in the bollocks over that kinda stunt.
Well, so the way I do this CTM is simply to do a Chicken Tikka -- marinated chicken grilled on skewers. It's traditionally done in a Tandoor oven, but a simple Weber kettle works just as well. The marinade uses yogurt, flavored with all sorts of goodies: garlic, ginger, cumin and coriander seeds, green cardamom pods, lime juice (and sliced up pieces from that lime), fenugreek seeds, panch puran and of course, turmeric. Chicken Tikka just means chicken pieces (I guess Murgh Tikka didn't fly, for some reason), and it can be done in lots of different ways. But the Chicken Tikka I saw first was very yellow, from the turmeric. So that's how I do it.
The rice was flavored with minced red onions, cumin and coriander seeds, curry leaves and a few, precious strains of saffron. The sauce -- well, it had a little of everything. It was like freakin' ragù alla bolognes -- simmered real slow, bits and pieces thrown in as it went, zapped with an Evinrude, pressed through a sieve, bit of cream added, bit of this, bit of that...
But the real star was the naan. This was the first time I used instant yeast, and I was worried about how it would work since I've been using active yeast up until now. I'm either on to something, or I got lucky -- because that was some fantastic naan. If I can reproduce it a couple of more times, I'll put a proper recipe up.
Bread making is the most challenging thing I've ever attempted. I'm not at all religious, but I was brought up a Christian -- and I remember that prayer about daily bread, and in particular the descriptions about how Jesus would break bread with people, as a sign of friendship. That always confused me -- why would Jesus break a loaf of bread, instead of slicing it up like a civilized person? The only people I'd ever seen who'd do such a thing, were drunken hoodlums who'd steal a loaf of bread and some sliced ham and then rip and tear at it, shoving the stuff down their throat, like -- well, like drunken hoodlums...
But with this kind of bread, I understand. I get it. Breaking bread with someone is a sign of friendship. I like that. This naan; this bread, it would make Jeebus and Judas best friends forever.
- For he today that breaks bread with me
- Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
- This act shall gentle his condition.
