Naughty Curry

Encouraging Your Inner EGGPLANT

     We all like to see skin that is smooth, supple, perhaps even slippery-when-wet. Don't we, now? Like it or not, the surface of something equals its identity. Think apple, we think 'red' (though the actual fruit is not). Think eggplant, we think...well, 'eggplant' (as it is the trendy term for dark purple.)

          Eggplant, brinjal, aubergine... It has much more to offer than the chic hue of its peel. I have long been wanting to fiddle with the soft glory that lies beneath, by creating our own version of Baigan Bharta -- the soul food that is traditional in much of North India and Indian restaurants abroad. It consists mostly of roasted eggplant puree, slathered with heavy cream and lots of oil. (Of course, ours would not.)

        However...the word 'puree' or 'mash' doesn't always sound alluring -- at least to someone raised in the spiceless Midwest U.S.

          So how to bait the interest of my fellow Naughty Curry ladies with an eggplant puree? Hum-de-dum...

"It's like hummus," I told Trina. Really?, she said.

"Yeah...except it's with eggplant...and other stuff..." Ahem.

To Trobee: "It's kinda like that spinach dish. Y'know, saag paneer." Really?, she said.

"Yeah...except it's with eggplant...and there's no paneer..."

Hm.

RECIPE B-R-E-A-K-D-O-W-N

"I don't know about this, Court," said Trina as she held the Purple It."I've never cooked with eggplant before."

"So much the better," I said with a shrug. "You'll be fine."

And I noticed that soon, Trina was no longer awkward in handling the eggplant. This did not surprise me. But was that a trace of affection in her gaze, as she placed it on the baking sheet...?

"I think it's kind of cute," she remarked. "Like a little baby."

Of course, that was when the eggplant was fresh and new. Smooth-skinned. Nubile, if you will. When she pulled it out of the oven, she was a bit dismayed: "It's all wrinkled!"

"Oh, it's fine," said I with a laugh. Did it deserve less love now? "Hey, if it wasn't about to be all mashed up, I'd name it."

*     *     *

A seedy affair indeed...

Trina's voice was tinged with panic: "Court, it says to scoop them out, but they're everywhere."

"Don't fret. Just do your best."

Chinese or Japanese eggplants aren't so heavily endowed with seeds. Neither, I'm guessing, are baby eggplants. All of which are not easily available to us at the NC.

Later: "Ok, I guess it's not a big deal. Just tell them to scoop out what they can."

"Roger that."

*     *     *

Those of you who are savvy about 'traditional' Baigan Bharta may find our addition of corn a bit scandalous. It so happens that on our second occasion of cooking up this dish, Trina and I didn't have enough eggplant -- so we compensated with some corn we found in the freezer. We thawed it and threw it in the blender when it was whizz n' whirl time...and hence, corn has been included ever since. It fits. Really it does.

*     *     *

Behold! A Spicing Showcase

*     *     *

"Hey now! Hey now!" I said upon Tasting Time."I love it. Great stuff!"

"I was scared." Trina confessed.

I had to grin. "Well it turned out. And it's not so heavy, like the typical Indian restaurant stuff." Lowfat yogurt for heavy cream-- it works. Cool. Very cool.

"Yeah it's actually pretty light..."

"Tell you what, though. We'll tweak this recipe until it's just right, then well have Trobee finalize it...."

*     *     *

Trobee didn't bitch about having to cook with eggplant, but she looked like she wanted to. "I've never cooked with eggplant before," she grumbled.

"So much the better," I said with a shrug. "You'll do fine."

I wanted her to cook up this recipe that Trina and I had perfected over the past few months; since she had never cooked with eggplant before, it would be a good test of our recipe directions. Plus, I was curious of the 'Trobee take' on it. After all, she was completely unfamiliar with eggplant in the spiced-up sense. Naturally, she was skeptical about eggplant in general. Guarded. A bit suspicious.

What would her reaction be with an actual taste?

When the dish won Trobee's approval ("YUM!"), I was delighted, if a bit smug. I stifled the 'I told you so' about eggplant's inner loveliness. And about this dish.

It was time now to broadcast it, let it out into the world lovingly, like a dandy little paper boat. Go, little one...go....go...

~Shout out to Splat Worldwide for the top-of-the-post pic, 'It Takes 3 To Tango'. See more cool pics at his online gallery HERE~

all photos by Trobee, but they were inspired by Trina. Like, totally.

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Zesty Eggplant Curry-Slurry

• a large eggplant (about 1 ½ lbs )
• 1 cup corn
• 2 tsp oil
• 1/2 tsp cumin seeds
• 2-inch cinnamon stick
• 1/4 cup diced onion
• 1 tsp garlic paste or minced garlic
• 3/4 cup diced tomatoes
• 5-10 jalapeno rings, chopped (Trobee adds many more)
• 1/4 tsp salt
• 1/2 cup plain yogurt -- low-fat or soy
• ½ tsp ginger powder
• (1/8 tsp nutmeg or mace, if you have some)
• 1/2 tsp turmeric
• a splash of lemon juice

Masala:

• 1/2 tsp paprika
• 1/2 tsp fenugreek powder
• 1/2 tsp cumin powder
• 1 tsp coriander powder
• 2 green cardamom pods, bonked slightly open

~Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.~

1) Pierce the eggplant's skin several times with a fork or knife. Place it on a baking sheet and stick it in the oven for 40 minutes; halfway through, flip it over. The eggplant should be soft and the skin should turn darker.

2) When the eggplant is done, slice off the stem and cut the eggplant in half. Scoop out the seeds with a spoon. Don’t worry about getting every seed out, just the large chunks. Peel off the skin. It should peel easily; if it doesn’t then it needs to be baked longer.

3) Place these baked eggplant halves in your blender with the corn and a ¼ cup of water. Blenderize until it is a smooth puree. Set aside.

4) In a medium skillet, heat the oil until it is sizzle hot. Add the cumin seeds and the cinnamon stick. Saute until the cumin seeds have darkened a few shades.

5) Add the onion, and cook until it is soft. Then add the garlic paste and the masala, and cook until all is lightly browned.

6) Add the tomatoes, and jalapeno pieces and cook for about 2 minutes. Then add the blended eggplant-and-corn mixture along with the ginger powder, nutmeg or mace, turmeric, and the salt. Cook until everything is heated through, stirring occasionally.

7) Add the yogurt and mix through. Splash in some lemon juice. Done.

Come On Over For Your Bowl of *Cheezy-Lime White Chili*...

    "Now's your chance. What do YOU want to create?" I asked Trina recently. It was a preliminary NC session-- the part when we hang out and catch up about Life, then discuss and plan our spicy NC projects. I usually have options and possibilities to play around with, in which case I rattle them off wait for a spark of interest to flare up...and we go from there. (Curiousity, after all, is our Pied Piper.) We may have a recipe to finalize. Or a photo shoot.

           "I have no plans today," said I. "It's all you, babe. What would YOU like to create? What do you think the NC needs? Anything--"

          "Chicken chili," she said, with uncharacteristic certainty. "Like, one of those white chilis. I've always wanted to make that."

         "Hey, sounds great. I like it," I said.

          And we brainstormed from there...

RECIPE B-R-E-A-K-D-O-W-N

  "I'm thinking of taking it somewhat gentle with this chili," I mused. "The spicing, I mean. Gentle...yet robust. (Trina patiently waited.) I want the spicing to be light, yet warm and hearty. (Trina patiently waited.) And what do you think of a tiny hint of coconut?"

"Ooh!"

"So that's a yes then? Ok. You know, I'm wanting a little ajwain in this chili....."

Trina admitted to not being familiar enough with ajwain to say.

"Oh but you should be, considering you're the `North Indian spicing-type.' It looks a lot like cumin seeds, but a little smaller. Strong, bold, great in hearty wintery dishes. Yes we're adding a bit of ajwain."

She wrote it down.

*     *     *

"You know, this chili would be cool to make with leftover chicken or turkey pieces..." I said to Trobee as she was taking happy bites by the stove.

"Oh, like after Thanksgiving! Frick yeah this would be wonderful for that."

"It would be a fast-easy-healthyish way to use up the extras too," I mused. Ah me.

*     *     *

When we cooked up the vegetarian version, Trobee was rather impressed at the ease in substituting the tofu for the chicken. (Yes, we froze it, then pressed out its liquid before using.)

Well, she was a bit leery at first as to the chili's end consistency, being that tofu absorbs rather than exudes as meat does: "Wow, tofu can really suck in all those juices!"

But in the end all was well with the world. I was thrilled with the tofu version. Trina, of course, is all about the chicken. Trobee is, as you might have guessed, a red-meat in red-chili kind of girl, but she approved of this. Knowing her high standards of chili, one of the few boldly spiced American dishes, this was a feat. (She'll let us in on her barbaric style of chili sometime in the future. Stay tuned.)

*     *     *

"Tro, I have a question for you. Come on over. Step into my office."

Trobee broke away from battle with the NC fridge's icemaker, and took a seat in my corner of the kitchen. "What up, Courty?"

"It's the chili," I told her. "The white chili that we cooked up the other day. I know it was good. Very good. But was it outstanding. Y'know...good enough for Our People."

  "Hell yeah it's outstanding. I'm gonna make some of that at home. Jeremy would really like it, I'm thinking."

"Should we call it chili...or should we call it stew? Cause people hear the word 'chili' and they think of the typical red-brown--"

"Oh, no," she affirmed. "It's chili. White chili. Well it's not really white, but whatever. Why? Are you not gonna do a post on it?" Her voice had suddenly become very loud.

"Oh, yeah," I assured her. "Just making sure."

"It's awesome. I love it."

"Ok. That's all I needed to know."

photos by Trina and Trobee

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Cheezy-Lime Chicken Chili

• 2 chicken breasts, cubed OR 1 lb. firm tofu (frozen, pressed, cubed)
• 1 cup diced red onion
• 2 tsp garlic paste or minced garlic cloves
• 1 can (15 oz .) Great Northern white beans, with liquid --any light-colored beans would probably be OK
• 1 cup diced frozen mixed vegetables (like corn, peas, carrots)
• 1/2 cup diced tomatoes, with liquid
• 3/4 cup chicken or vegetable broth
• juice from 1/2 a lime
• 1/2 tsp ginger powder
• 2 TB coconut powder
• 1/3 cup light or soy sour cream
• 2/3 cup shredded cheese (we used Mexican-flavored)
• salt

Masala:

1 TB cumin seeds
1 TB coriander seeds
1/4 tsp ajwain seeds
1 inch cinnamon stick
2 whole cloves
7 curry leaves
1/4 tsp black peppercorns

1) Get out your large skillet. Dry roast the masala until the cumin seeds have darkened a few shades. Then dump them in your coffee grinder and whiz it into a powder. Set aside
2) Back to the skillet. Heat the oil until it is sizzle-hot, then add the onion and the garlic. Saute until the onion gets soft is beginning to turn clear.
3) Add the chicken or tofu pieces. When almost cooked through, add the masala and fry for a few more minutes.
4) Now add the beans with their liquid, the tomatoes, the mixed vegetables, and the broth. Bring it to a boil, then cover it and simmer for 10 minutes, stirring occasionally.
5) Add the sour cream, shredded cheese, lime juice, coconut powder, ginger powder and salt. Mix well. Done.

*To serve, you can add a little more sour cream and cheese on top. You know you want to.

CARROTS Escaping the KORMA Police

     "Men in uniform are hot..." murmured Trobee during a recent NC spicing session.

          "You think so, huh?" said I. "That surprises me a little."

           Uniforms signify proper-ness, predictability and, well, uniformity. Don't they? Correctness, conformity...that sort of thing? I would've thought Trobee would avoid the uniform's presumptive authority -- we all know our Trobee likes to have the upper hand.

          But hey, whatever floats your boat. We all have different flavor n' spice preferences here at the NC, and I like it that way. Diversity is good.

          And she persisted: "Oh hell yeah." She elaborated on that sentiment with a sordid story from her eventful Halloween night at one of her nightlife hangouts. Something involving (dressed-up) police officers, her (pretend) arrest and... furry handcuffs? Something like that. (Yes, plenty of drama, gossip and entertainment swirling about here at the NC kitchen.) And maybe Trobee looked upon uniforms as a challenge. A mystery to master. An inner truth to expose beneath a polished facade.

          Or she just thinks men in uniform are hot.

RECIPE B-R-E-A-K-D-O-W-N

          "So what's our plan today, Courty?"

          A fitting project indeed. "We're going to finalize a dish that Trina and I have breezed through a few times," I told her. "It's healthy, it's easy, it's tasty... a carrot korma."

          Trobee nodded. She was familiar with the word korma, a term found in many titles of North Indian dishes, including Indian restaurant fare.

         "So it's mild and creamy-like."

         "See that's the thing," said I. "There's nothing creamy in this dish, not even a sauce with ground nuts. In fact there isn't a gravy at all. But it's a real cool little dish. I think you'll like it." I was looking forward to trying it with the full amount of chillies as the recipe listed -- Trina had cut back, as she usually does in the spicy-hot department.

          The recipe, Gajar Korma, comes to us from Sushma, who is behind the Indian cooking blog [humbly] called 'Recipe Source'. Well, actually it wasn't the one she sent, but this humble number twinkled out at me like a snappy little star. For it was a bit rebellious, yes, as it was labelled korma when it was so unkorma-like (a false uniform?). I thought of asking Sushma about it, but I couldn't come up with the right words. (Plus I forgot.) And anyway, who was I -- the Korma Police?

          So long as it tastes good. And that it's do-able and healthy-ish.

*     *     *

          And when the Carrot Korma was all cooked up:

          Trobee looked upon it with affection. "It is pretty. Looks a lot like our Spunky Carrot Relish. Probably tastes way different though, huh?"

          "Go on and try it."

            She scooped up a bite. Her eyes widened. "Mmm. I can't even believe it.... Carrots! Frickin delish."

           "Yeah, I'm seeing visions with this one. Just think of how you could use the leftovers, too..."

         

Below: Leftover Carrot Korma with cream cheese, crackers and fixings.

Below: Some Carrot Korma in a frittata (an omelette-type thing.) Cheese or NO cheese?

Below: Sprinkle Carrot Korma over Ramen or Maggi Noodles.

Photos by Trina and Trobee.

Top graphic by Mo Digital. Shout out to Erik Patterson for letting us use his cool 'Carrots Blurred' pic to jazz it up.

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Gajar  (Carrot) Korma 

• 2 cups grated carrots
• 2 tsp oil
• 4 garlic cloves
• 1 tsp black mustard seeds
• 1 tsp cumin seeds
• ¼ tsp turmeric powder
• 3 Tb coconut powder
• 2 tsp lemon juice
• salt

Masala

• 1/4 tsp fennel seeds
• 1/2 tsp coriander seeds
• 1/4 tsp cumin seeds
• 3-4 dried red chilies, broken to bits (Trina de-seeds them)

1) Prepare a paste: Add the Masala to the coffee grinder and whiz it to a powder. Then add the garlic and create a smooth paste. (Add a bit of water if necessary.) Set aside.

2) In a medium skillet, heat the oil until it is sizzle hot. Add the black mustard seeds and the cumin seeds. As soon as the black mustard seeds have quit popping, add the paste, and cook until the mixture is light brown.

3) Add the carrots, turmeric, coconut powder and salt. Cook 15-20 minutes or until the carrots are tender.

4) Add the lemon juice and stir it all up. Done.

Click here to see Sushma's original recipe