Is the Great Madhur Jaffrey REALLY 'All That'?

      Groans of pleasure are difficult to suppress when experiencing Trobee's fiery-creamy chicken vindaloo. It is difficult, really, to even think straight. The afterglow is electric, and while your lips still tingle blissfully, the entire universe is in cosmic harmony. It's legal, too.

           But I wouldn't let her cook up her specialty last Friday night. I could stay strong on this stance only because I had just gobbled up twice as much Pad Thai as my stomach had room for, and I just hate not being able to partake of fine fixings on account of a stupidly full stomach. She and her friend Haley were coming over for an early-evening movie before a highly-anticipated boyfriend-less Friday night barhopping session. I was all set to order pizza for them, charitably allowing pineapple on half.

          Yet Trobee intercepted. (Trobee: note the football term!) She wanted to let Haley in on some behind-the-scenes Naughty Curry action. See what transpires during our spice-cookin' process."But it's Friday night," I said. Didn't she just want to relax? No. She wanted vindaloo. And this Haley chick, who I hadn't yet met, wanted to "try our food." (I have to smirk whenever I hear this; I am not kidding when I tell you, dear readers, that spiced food is totally renegade in the midwest U.S. Ha ha! Gotta love it.)

          Ok. Fine. Vindaloo we would make. But I'd be damned if I was going to let Trobee get too set in her ways-- even at the expense of my own momentary eating enjoyment. And besides, her cute little friend Haley was daring to enter the Naughty Curry lair. So of course there was going to be a twist.

          Naughty Curry, understand, is a happy, welcoming place--during our 'normal' office hours (anytime during daylight). But what can I say? It was dark now, it was Friday night, and therefore I would have no mercy on this Haley-girl's midwestern U.S. palate, friend of Trobee's or not. I simply wasn't in the mood for 'spice dumbing-down'. I mean really, in this part of the world, "liking it spicy" means dumping A-1 sauce on your steak,  using garlic salt instead of regular, choosing the chili cheese variety of Fritos. People who have been 'spiced,' such as Trobee, just don't realize.

          Her friend was doomed.

          "We are not going to make 'your vindaloo," I announced once Haley and Trobee had taken a seat. [We had just convinced Trina, at last, that she did indeed look beautiful in the exotic (to us) sparkly-blue outfit she had purchased in Hyderabad. She was on her way to India Night at the college; she fussed with the accompanying filmy scarf the way that a young guy would fidget with a tie.]      

          Anyway. "We're cooking up a recipe of Madhur Jaffrey's," I said. Blank stares. Ok. Ahem. "Madhur Jaffrey... she's like, this really famous person...like, the Indian cookbook author for Westerners-- y'know, Europeans, Canadians, Americans... um, what else. She blows all other Indian cookbook authors out of the water-- outside of India, that is. People love her. But the question is: Are her creations really so special, or are people simply lovin' her stuff because she is user-friendly?"

         And given Trobee's fetish for vindaloos, we would let this single recipe be a test. I paused dramatically.          

          "It's a no-lose situation," I told Haley, "If it turns out, yay, we have something good to eat tonight. And if it doesn't, well then we have reason to think that maybe the great Madhur Jaffrey really isn't so great. Which would be cool with me, actually, cause everywhere I look on the 'Net it's Madhur Jaffrey this, Madhur Jaffrey that. I'm just a total snob when someone gets too popular. It's like high school..." I shrugged. Haley laughed.

Showing Haley the Nitty Gritty of the NC's

RECIPE  B-R-E-A-K-D-O-W-N

Phase 1: "Now is when we take the recipe and look it over, translate, discuss how we're gonna do it, etc.." I quickly explained to Haley.

Trina, Trobee and I rapidly went through the ingredients, halving the amounts to feed just three people. We slightly increased the levels of black mustard seeds and the coriander powder because we felt like it. We decreased the cinnamon and cardamom just a bit (my single consideration toward Haley's midwest-American palate).

We shrieked at the amount of oil that was called for ("Daaamn!"  said I. Haley laughed.), and adjusted accordingly as we always do. "Most Indian recipes use a ton of oil," Trobee explained to Haley. "We usually cut it way down. "

I once heard someone say that voluminous quantities of oil in Indian cooking was a 'necessary evil'. We completely disagree at the NC. "Some added fat is necessary for the spices. It's a chemical thing," I told Haley. "So we use the bare minimum that we feel is absolutely needed."

In this particular recipe, five tablespoons (after the recipe was cut in half) was pared down to one.

Added Heat: Call me devious. "You know, Tro, it's weird to be making a vindaloo without adding at least one dried chile pod to the masala. But oh yeah ~ we've got Haley here. Never mind."

"But... Haley told me she likes it spicy," Trobee said. "Right, Hales?"  Haley nodded. (Uncertainly?)

"Oh. Well OK, then."  I hid my smirk as Trobee extracted the chile pods from the pantry.

Phase 2: Trobee prepares. She chops, rinses, makes sure we have everything, gets the spices out and arranges the masala in a small  bowl "so it can be added at once," I told Haley.

As Trobee shifted into her kitchen-whirlwind mode, I explained a bit to Haley about what a vindaloo is. I got out a map. "See this itty-bitty blob here?"I pointed to a spot on India's west coast. "This is the state of Goa. Its pretty unique to the rest of India. The Portuguese colonized it, so it's very Catholic, they eat beef and pork, they like vinegar. Vindaloo, in a nutshell, is a hot n' zingy meaty curry, cooked in vinegar."

"Really?" she said.

I wasn't quite sure what she meant by that.

Phase 3: "This is where the magic happens," said I to the spice virgin.

"Magic is right!" Trobee echoed from afar.

"The spice-roasting process; we put it all together, sort of like Tetris," I continued. "All the details matter. Exact timing matters."

"Damn right it matters!"  echoed Trobee from afar.

"Once things are cooking away, one can relax."

Haley nodded. She looked mystified.  This amused me, but I played it cool.

Phase 4: "The fun part," I said to Haley. "We eat. Analyze. Discuss. Decide if something needs to be added."

Trobee brought the steaming skillet over for us to have a look-see. "Looks great," I said. I took a bite.

"You likes?"

"Oh, Tro. This is outstanding. Thumbs up. I like how you added the coconut milk in here. Yum."

Ironically it was Haley who brought us back to reality. "So you really like this  Madhur Jaffrey recipe then."

Oh yeah. This creation wasn't 'ours'.  And by raving about this dish, we were admitting that this ever-popular icon was, well, maybe deserving of her position. We nodded, a bit reluctantly.

"Would you say that hers is better than yours?"

Trobee and I practically answered in unison: "Almost."

graphic by Mo Digital

photos by Trina

---

Chicken Vindaloo ~ A modification of a Madhur Jaffrey adaptation. See 'Soulflake's' original adaptation here

• 2 1/2 Tb white vinegar
• 1/2 tsp salt
• 1/2 tsp cayenne (or paprika)
• 1/2 tsp sugar (original recipe calls for light brown)
• 1-2 Tb oil
• 1 large onion, sliced in half and lengthwise
• 3 Tb water
• 5 garlic cloves, peeled and coarsely chopped
• 2 tsp coriander powder
• 1/4 tsp turmeric
• 2 chicken breasts, cut into bite-sized pieces
• 1/2 cup tomato sauce
• 1 large potato, peeled and chopped
• (we added 1/4 cup light coconut milk at the end for added creaminess because we like it that way)

Masala:

• 1 tsp cumin seeds (or powder)
• 1/2 tsp peppercorns (or powder)
• seeds of 5 green cardamom pods (about 1/3 tsp)
• 1-inch cinnamon stick
• 1 tsp black mustard seeds
• 1/2 tsp fenugreek seeds (or powder)
• (Trobee added 1 dried chile pod since Trina wouldn't be around)

1. Blenderize the masala together. In a small bowl, combine the ground masala with the vinegar, salt, cayenne (or paprika) and the sugar. Set aside.
2. Heat the oil in a large skillet, then saute the onions, stirring frequently, until they are a rich, dark brown. Remove them with a slotted spoon and turn off the heat, but do not discard the oil. Blenderize them, adding about 1 1/2 Tb of water (or more if necessary) until you have a smooth paste. Add this onion paste to the spices in the bowl. This mixture is the vindaloo paste.
3. Now blenderize the garlic with 1 1/2 Tb of water and blend until you have a smooth paste.
4. Back to the skillet. Heat the remaining oil in the skillet over medium heat. When hot, add the garlic paste. Stir until the paste browns slightly. Add the coriander and turmeric and stir for a few seconds. Add the chicken, a little at
   a time, and brown lightly.
5. Add the vindaloo paste, tomato sauce and potato pieces to the skillet. Add the coconut milk, if using. Stir and bring to a slight boil. Cover the skillet, reduce the heat to low and simmer for about an hour, or until the potato pieces are tender.
   Serve over rice.

Click here for a vegetarian vindaloo recipe, from Jonathan of Washing the Dishes

Other chicken posts:

• RED HOT CHILI CHICKEN
• CHICKEN CURRY (Chicken Dahi-Wali)
• Spicing up VEGETARIAN "CHICKEN" CURRY ("Chicken" Dahi-Wali)
• Spicing up CHICKEN~ preschool for spice virgins