Naughty Curry

The Dinner-Date Redemption: A Lesson in ZEST A-Peel

       Entering the Naughty Curry Kitchen -- Alf and Kim, a couple with, ah, conflicting flavor-preferences.

         Alf likes his tastebuds to be hammered. ("Subtlety is not your forte," Kim tells him.) He likes it strong, heavy, and dominant. Without that pulsing degree of pungency, the result is just not good enough.

          For Kim, the main ingredient must always shine through, never to be overpowered. She seeks that shimmery razzle-dazzle.

          Thus, the two spend much of their early evening bickering about what to eat for dinner. I sit back and enjoy the show. I don’t get involved or take sides -- diversity is good. (Yet I had to laugh when Kim said to Alf: "You always add the same spice mix to everything, and so all your food is good, but it tastes the same!").

          Anyway. They surprised me on a recent evening. They had agreed to make burritos. Wise choice, I thought. The beauty of burritos is that they can be tailored to your liking. Guess there would be no sparks flying tonight (or so I thought at the time). Another agreement: they both wanted to make Lime Cilantro Rice in the style of our friendly local chain restaurant, Chipotle. They turned to Naughty Curry for the know-how. (After all, the Naughty Curry Kitchen is the place for spicing experimentation.)

          What spices, they wanted to know, were in the rice?

           I smiled. "Today, kids, you’re going to learn about zest."

           Blank expressions.

            "No trouble," I told them. "Easy. Three things. Get a lime. Get cilantro. Make rice. Then we'll talk."

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

And what was this mysterious 'zest'? "Lime peel. Grated to itty bitty bits. That's all." .

Moment of silence as the concept of using lime peel is mentally processed.

They were mystified as I demonstrated the crazy procedure of 'zesting'. "Just take a fork and scratch scratch scratch the surface. It’s a great trick for when you want the lime flavor but not the juice," I explained."The taste effect is uneven. You know, like rock salt on a pretzel. Flavor comes out at you in occasional bursts -- like fireworks."

I added that the same could be done with a lemon or an orange

*     *     *

"The best way, I find, to add cilantro is to use a kitchen scissors. Which we have in the drawer over there."

Moment of silence as the concept of using a scissors while cooking was mentally processed.

"Uh...can I just use a knife with that?" said Alf. Alf thinks he is some kind or kitchen ninja with our new knives.

"Use the scissors," said I. Using a knife on cilantro is doable, but can be annoying "Don't be scared. I usually just take a sprig and snip it up over the dish. Snip it as small as you can stand it."

I reminded him to start with two tablespoons and only add more after he tasted it first. Spice newbies, after all, tend to add too much at first. I know I did.

"And unless cilantro is going in the blender, you want to use the leaves only."

I mentioned that last part because I suspected Alf might get lazy and cut the pieces too large.

"And be sure and use only a couple tablespoons. In fact, how about you measure this first time."

"Well I was thinking of adding like a half a cup."

Yikes. (Note: he later agreed that 2 1/2 tablespoons was enough.)

*     *     *

"Oranges really suck to zest," Trobee announced after the photo shoot.

"Why do you say that?"

"I guess they don't suck too bad. They're just not as hard as lemons and limes. They just don't zest as nicely... But it looks cool."

"Ok then."

 

---

Lime Cilantro Rice

• 1 cup rice
• 1 tsp lime zest
• Juice of 1/2 a lime
• 2-3 Tbsp cilantro, minced
• 1/4 tsp salt

1. Cook the rice.

2. Stir in remaining ingredients.

3. Taste it. If you want more of anything, add more. Done.

SOUP-er Freaking

     Some days the wind seems to blow against you, no matter which way you turn. Which really sucks when it's 20 below zero outside.

           "Why the frick am I having such a bad day!?!" Trobee shouted after charging into the door carrying (well, nearly tripping over) several grocery bags. She fumed about her harrowing experiences on the road ("This town has the worst drivers!"), her thwarted quest in the aisles of the supermarket, her encounter with the ("bitchy and rude!") cashier. The radio pissed her off still further by playing lousy songs. Her shirt caught on something and tore. She stubbed her toe. Sprouted a new zit. So and so forth.

          For a short while, words of rage and frustration bounced around the NC kitchen like the little balls in a pinball machine. The plan today was to try the Potato Jalapeno Soup recipe from the Milky Way Diner. Hopefully it would turn out -- a good soup, after all, has magical restorative powers. It can make any boo-boo all better...

           But for now it was bubbling seething anger-energy -- the vibe continued at the stove, as vibes tend to do. Trobee seized the pan in a choke-hold. (Yet come spicing-time, she was, as always, respectful. She has learned.) At one point: "Aaahhh!!! I sliced my hand! Look!" (She had been the one that had wanted new knives.)

       Maybe, I thought, I shouldn't have chosen an unpracticed recipe that day. Even though we're used to experimentation here at NC, there are times when success is needed. The only way for her to calm down this day was for her dish to actually turn out.

          Indeed, the pan sizzled and hissed at her threateningly. "It's acting up all funky-like and I even have it on low!"

          Oh boy. This soup had better be goood

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

"C'mon, boil! Dammit, why won't you boil for me today?"

Pause. She turned to me. "See, all you have to do is start bitching and it boils up nicely."

"I'll make a note of that."

*     *      *

Bay leaf -- the Soup Spice. We figured we'd toss one in. What the hell. The leaf, which is always dried, adds a lot of flavor that doesn't clash with other spices."So... when exactly do we add the bay leaf?"
"You know, it varies. In Indian cooking, it is usually roasted along with the other whole spices. But it doesn't have to be. In the West, chefs just slip it into soups as is."
So we decided to find out for ourselves what the flavor difference would be. We made rice 2 ways: one version with roasted bay leaf, and one with the bay leaf slipped in the water.
"Not too much difference for me, to be perfectly honest."
I had to agree. "There probably is a subtle difference there, but it's not big enough to write about."
Hm.

*     *     *

Of course, our soup had to have garlic. As an afterthought, we tweaked it at the end with some ginger powder. And lime. Just to sex it up a bit.

Upon our third time cooking up this soup, all was perfected. The effect of the soup was extraordinary. People couldn't get enough of it. So much for quieting chaos.

".. and what's really awesome here is how it's got light cream cheese instead of heavy cream," Trobee was telling an enthusiastic test-taster.

*       *      *

The presence of jalapenos does not guarantee a burning tongue. In this recipe, our 'mild-child' test tasters approved of the 1/3 cup amount.

"Of course my soup has jalapenos galore!" declared Trobee as she stirred the steaming cauldron. "Trina will be having none of this!"

And she laughed. (Cackled?)

As I had hoped, a warm aroma flowed from the stovetop like an invisible, yet gentle hug. I wanted that swell of flavor to massage my insides. A good soup can do that.

She was getting happier by the moment."Hurry up! I want this to get done really bad so I can eat it!"

*     *      *

Brother Chase sauntered into the kitchen, making a beeline for the fridge. As usual. Chase, if you have not met him yet, is the NC nemesis. That is, he is anti-spice. And he's vocal about it. Which doesn't bother us, usually. Diversity is good.

"Wow, it actually does smell really good. It smells excellent," he admitted grudgingly. I almost dropped my glass of water. Interesting. See, that's why it's good to have a nemesis. You know for sure that they aren't 'just saying' anything.

"This soup is definitely a hit, Courty."

Okay then.

*     *     *

However, the second time Trobee cooked up the soup -- at Chase's special request -- she was discontent with the result."This sucks!"
The soup had turned out smooth and creamy, without the potato chunkage that Trobee preferred. Turns out that she had cut the potatoes into smaller, dice-size pieces. This had caused them to mush together. But you know what? I personaly liked it that way. Maybe I even liked it better.

"So Trina," I said when it was her turn to cook, "Tell me. How big are the chunks?"
I hadn't specified how the potato should be cut. I wanted to see what she did.
She had chopped the potato in large chunks. I explained the creamy effect of Trobee's last version.
"Oh! I should have done that!"
"No, No, No. It all depends on what you want. If you want it creamy, cut it into small pieces. If you want it chunky, cut it into large pieces. There's no correctness here."
She had to think about that for a minute.

Trobee pointed out another option: One could do a half-and-half thing. Once the potato is simmering in the soup, some of the pieces could be mashed, thereby giving the broth some substance whilst retaining the chunky texture. ("Very good, Tro," said I.) This practice is often used in Indian dishes, such as with our Ting-Tangy Chickpeas....

photos by Trina and Trobee

Shout out to Rebecca Lopez for the top-of-the-post pic "Forever and Ever". Check out her other creations at www.diosaperdida.net.

Other Naughty Curry soup recipes:

Scarlet Desire Soup

Trippy Tomato Soup

---

Roasty Toasty Potato-Jalapeno Soup

• 1 tsp oil
• 1 bell pepper (we use 1/2 green, 1/2 red), seeded
• 1 medium onion, chopped
• 2-3 garlic cloves, chopped
• 1/3 - 1 cup jalapeno slices (Trobee uses a heaping cup)
• 1 can chicken/vegetable broth (2 cups)
• 1 cup water (or more broth, if you have it)
• 3 medium potatoes, chopped
• 1/2 cup light cream cheese (soy works great too)
• juice of lime or lemon (to taste)
• Dried cilantro flakes or parsley flakes
  
  Masala:

2 tsp cumin powder
1 tsp coriander powder
1/2 tsp fenugreek seeds powder
1/4 tsp ginger powder
1 bay leaf

1) Place the bell pepper on a baking sheet and stick it on the oven's top shelf. Broil it for 10 minutes. Cool and scrape away the burnt skin and chop.
2) In a medium pot, saute the onions in the oil until they are clear. Add the garlic and cook until golden-brown.
3) Add the bell pepper pieces, the jalapeno slices and the masala. Sauté for 1-2 minutes.
4) Add the broth and water. Bring to a boil. Cover and simmer for 10 minutes or until the potatoes are cooked through.
5) Remove the pot from heat. Stir in the cream cheese, lime or lemon juice, and the cilantro or parsley flakes. Done.

Our Photo Shoot: BEHIND THE SCENES

     We had been waiting for it. Waiting. Waiting. At last it came. A big box was deposited on the doorstep, courtesy of the postman -- and we seized it. Ripped it open. Yes. Yes. Inside were the Naughty Curry aprons. The last ones hadn't met our standards. Would these satisfy?

          "Now THESE are hot!" said Trobee. "I love em bad! "

          "Yeah, they did turn out pretty good. Finally."

           "Damn right they did. I LOVE that they're black- they'll hide spills and stuff. They have the nice big pockets. LOVE the material... it's all nice and sturdy-like. Yes. These bad boys are awesome!" She squealed. She strapped on and spun around.

          People soon arrived. Brianna breezed in, digital camera in hand. Jason bounced in and attacked the apron pile. He strapped one on. "Sweet!"

           To Jason: "OK, look. I know it's called Naughty Curry and all that, but remember: it's a cooking website. Food. So... nothing raunchy. OK... Jason?"

         He was busy digging in the utensils drawer. He brandished a rubber spatula as though he were a samurai warrior. Within seconds, he and Trobee were fighting with them. Naturally. After all, Trobee is territorial of the kitchen, being the 'head chef' and all. ("You are NOT gonna use that rubber spatula! I always use the steel one when I cook!") Now they were sword fighting-- with spatulas.

          When Jason wasn't looking, Trobee selected the tongs and stashed them in her apron pocket -- with a wicked grin. She was up to something....

          Suddenly they were looking at me. All of them."So... how are we gonna do this, Courty?" They wanted a plan. A photo-recipe. They should know better.

           "No plans," said I. "No rules. Play around. Have fun. Find the vibe and go with it. That's usually the best way."

            Didn't have to tell them twice. They went in search of a solid wall, talking up ideas. I was laughing too much to take notes. Sorry.

         Trobee's boyfriend Jeremy lurked quietly in the corner. I promised him his own special batch of Masala Ranch Oyster Crackers. For being such a good, patient boy. He followed the loud laughter and spoke for the first time: "I gotta see this."

Check out our Naughty Curry shop here.

---

We want to take this time to give a shout-out to folks who have cooked up our stuff. Here are some random posts we remember.

Did we not include you? Don't be hurt. Send us the link, and we'll add it. Promise.

---

Nupur of One Hot Stove on our Magical Peppercorn' Cauliflower Korma

Courtney and her friends from Naughty Curry posted a recipe called 'Magical Peppercorn' Cauliflower Korma that sounded so tempting...and am I glad I tried it! The combination of peppercorns and cashewnuts was delicious and unusual. This recipe is a keeper.

---

Susan of Fatfree Kitchen on our Pineapple-Paradise Couscous Curry

I had in mind to make some kind of curried couscous salad, and just for fun I decided to check and see if the always-inventive cooks at Naughty Curry had done anything with couscous. And of course they had! Their Pineapple-Paradise Couscous Curry looked to-drool-for, and I promise you, I would have made it just as it was written except for one big problem: I didn't have any pineapple. But I did have a can of mandarin oranges, so I made a few changes in the recipe but left the spicing pretty much as the Naughty cooks had made it. And it was wonderful--lightly sweet, richly spiced, and delicious hot or cold. Thanks, Trobee and Courtney, for the inspiration. [photo is hers]

---

Kit Pollard of Mango and Ginger on our Bang Bang Bacon Bitches

"Given my love of the spice, it's no surprise that I've been a big fan of Naughty Curry for quite some time. Their philosophy is one I can firmly support. Sunday, however, was the first time I'd actually tried to make any of their recipes - for whatever reason, I don't cook a whole lot of Indian at home...

Besides the grinding, the recipe was super easy - and totally worth it, even with my substitutions. These bitches are delicious and were a huge hit at the party. They're salty and spicy hot and savory Indian spicy. It's a good combination.

And a good introduction to the world of the Naughty Curry. Next time, I'll make something harder. And next time, I'll do my best to actually make it to an Indian grocery...."

---

From the Imposterpockets blog on our Gajar (Carrot) Korma:

.my korma turned out very very dry (even though i decided to modify the instructions by splashing water into the pan fairly frequently) and by the time it was done cooking the carrots had taken on a really dark color and a consistency that reminded me of cooked hamburger.

i was really sad about the whole thing until i took a bite and realized that even though it was totally screwed up, it still tasted fantastic!  i cooked some rice and piled the korma on top and added a big scoop of plain yogurt.  DELICIOUS!!

i am definitely going to try it again….as far as the cooking goes, i could go on forever about how good the recipes are from the naughty curry kitchen.  you really have to take the plunge and do the cooking with the whole spices that you grind yourself, though.  i don't think the results would be as spectacular with pre-ground ancient spices you would find in a normal grocery.

---

Autumn of Perfection on a Curve on our Masala Scrambled Eggs/Tofu

I made this TWICE this week. It was that good! I made it last minute on Wednesday night, and then ended up making it for Matt & Nettie when they were here because we liked it so much. Now, the first time I made it, I made it with not enough eggs... this was because FireFox isn't always the best at seeing everything. (grrr) However, I emailed the girls, and they promptly, as ever, fixed me up with both the info and a readable website. Oh, wait? What girls?? Over at Naughty Curry - this is their recipe. I, of course, made a couple changes....[her photo]

From Sue of Ma Cooks! on our Masala Ranch Oyster Crackers:

I found this recipe on NaughtyCurry.com and since it is an original recipe from one of their contributers, I won’t copy it here but must recommend it. It is an amazing fusion of Indian spices with Ranch dressing mix on oyster crackers.

The other day, when I was at the Indian grocery perusing the spicy snacks, I saw several that I wanted to try out but I just couldn’t justify the expense: especially since I knew I had the very inexpensive ingredients for them at home. And with this recipe, I got more quality and quantity for way less cash, with ten minutes of labor (if you can call it that, you mostly pour and stir). How cool is that? These would be a unique contribution to social events, if I can ever make them last long enough to get there. However, I would feel it my duty to warn my Minnesota friends that these mild mannered looking snacks are NOT for the tender palated. (Which means we don’t have to share with JL! Yippee!)

They can be made without the cayenne, but what I love! love! love! about them is that first you get a rapid succession of flavor bursts from the masala mix: salty, sour, savory then a tiny bit of quiet with the bland cracker underneath, then the sour grabs your tongue again and just when you are going whoaaaa, dude! (I am 47 years old and these things make me say dude) THEN you get the after-burn from the cayenne– which compels you to take a swig of your favorite carbonated beverage, rinse and repeat.

I did make one substitution: Mango powder, made from dried green mangos, is hard to find here. Even our Indian grocer looked at me like I was from another country (he does that alot) when I asked for it. Maybe I wasn’t using the right name. But we do have sour salt in the house, which is dried concentrated citrus; thus contributing mango powder’s souring effect, without simultaneously increasing liquid content. Besides, I can’t really imagine anyone taking a bite and asking "Hey, where’s the mango powder?" They’ll be too busy either calling 911 or sitting back and enjoying the psychodelicious tongue trip.

Dude

---

Jocelyn of She Spills The Beans on our Peppy Green Pattycakes

I saw that the women at Naughty Curry had made some chickpea-flour bound Peppy Greens Pattycakes last week, which had been inspired by Rayma’s greens-potato-breadcrumbs Mustard Greens Cutlets.

I had leftover cooked chard in the fridge so I decided to make them into fritters, which helped the leftover greens disappear tout-suite.

These would be great dipped in yogurt, raita, or with a dab of chutney atop each. And you can do this with cooked or raw vegetables – in fact, I'm planning to inflict this method on some cooked carrots later in the week, and make larger cutlets, more like what Naughty Curry got up to. I'm in a vegetable cutlet mood – but it seems like I’m not the only one, huh?

---

Chef Andrea Froncillo of Sex and the Kitchen

Today I wanted to share one of my favorite sites with you: it's called Naughty Curry, and it's all about cooking with spices. It's written by four girls (excuse me - ladies? women? hotties?) from New York, who write each entry as if it was a story. They re-create recipes from dishes they enjoyed at a restaurant, or they invent their own, or they adapt recipes from cookbooks, and then they post dialogue and conversation about what happened along the way.

On their About page, the girls say that "the Naughty Curry project is a creative rebellion against blandness." I say: Bravo! It's so nice to see something completely fresh and different out there. Oh, and I like the word "naughty." Anything with "naughty" in the name is worth checking out.

They are very funny, but they are passionate about food, and they often raise questions like: Is it worth the extra time to soak rice? and Is the Great Madhur Jaffrey REALLY all that?. They take the time to note when it is important to toast spices, and they give a lot of information on shopping for ingredients.

---

From Sara of I Like to Cook on our Curry-Spiced Avocado Butter:

This is a total must try recipe from the excellent Naughty Curry. This is completely to-die-for; rich and creamy and so flavorful. You can and will slather this on everything.

I under-estimated the power of the butter and only put out a small amount. It was gone in less than 5 minutes. We served some plain steamed cauliflower, but it ended up being tossed with the avocado butter. Damn that stuff was good. [her photo]

---

Wesa of Wesaturtle on Trina’s Trippy Tomato Soup:

I had a ton of tomatoes taking up counterspace. Tomatoes from my garden, tomatoes from Terri’s garden, tomatoes from the store, we were almost walking in tomatoes. Then I pulled up Naughty Curry’s website and found this recipe. Tomato soup, made with curry flavors? Indeed! I had most of the spices already, I just needed coconut powder. 5 stores later, I finally had a small package tucked into my pocket, ready to go into this tasty soup.

**Side note: we added 4 strips of bacon (had to use them or throw them out), a bag of tortilini, and a sprinkling of parmesan cheese. [her photo]

---

Shilpa of Flog & Rosbif on our Sunset Cabbage Strips

I was in the mood for something spicy and colourful, so took a peek at Naughty Curry. The fact that they had a cabbage listing totally won me over, so here is my adaptation of their Sunset Cabbage Strips!

Confession time - I didn't have urad dal and curry leaves on me, so I did without them. Instead I sprinkled chopped coriander leaves when the dish was done. I liked the dish all the same! [her photo]

---

Rosaline the Baker on our Yogurt Rice

There is a lot I could say about yogurt rice, but the girls of Naughty Curry have already said most of it. It is a very simple dish, one that I almost didn't try because it seemed too easy. Yogurt, rice, mustard seeds, curry leaves, chilies--that's it. (my adaptations: I used coconut oil to fry the spices and added a bit of salt rather than sugar). However, I learned long ago from cucumber raita that I LOVE yogurt in savory dishes, and since I needed something for lunch tomorrow and it is late and the recipe is so easy afterall, I gave it a try. Yogurt rice is creamy and comforting, yet nutty and complex thanks to the toasted spices. It will be good for lunches. I wish I could have some more right now.

---

Opening SESAME: South Indian Pappu and POTSTICKERS, Too

     "Here. Try this."  Floating inches before me was a dumpling-type thing dipped in a thin, dark sauce. Without knowing the dumpling's contents, I bit.  Curiosity, for me, nearly always wins out over uncertainty of the unknown.

          Or...maybe I'm just guilty to sink my teeth into whatever looks good. (Ahem.) Not wise, granted-- but I've found that acting wisely can sometimes be, well, bland.

          "Not bad.  A bit greasy, maybe. What is it?" 

          Behold the potsticker -- a Chinese dumpling stuffed with minced meat, fried on one side and steamed on the other. Chase admitted that this potsticker in particular, obtained from a local chain restaurant, was not special. But potstickers in general could be wonderful.

           Hm....We at the NC could do something interesting with this. Wait, just wait, for the right Indian-spiced dish to come along.....

         Idea: Let soak. Set aside.       

       Fast forward to an intriguing recipe I swiped from Tanuja of Kodalis Kitchen. I declared it to be cooked up at the NC simply because it seemed...peculiar to us Midwestern Americans. Unimaginable, even. Sesame seeds were the starring role in what wasn't a sauce (like tahini), but a stir-fry. It might not be good. But if it was, and you had no food in the house, how cool that would be to create a meal out of...sesame!

          But it was good. It was. Trobee cooked it spicy-hot, Trina cooked it spicy-mild. "There are a lot of possibilities with this," I said.

          Idea: Return to pan and stir.

         And so it happened that we at the NC decided to try stuffing potstickers with Sesame Pappu. Could these potstickers be made successfully using minimal oil?  We would find out. It might be ... cool.

          And it is cool. It is.

          Do bite into this one, especially if you hanker for the Indian-Chinese flavor.And double-especially if you like the idea of dumplings fried in just a DAB of oil...which is all they need.

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

"So... when would you use black sesame seeds and when would you use beige sesame seeds?" 

"With Indian cooking, you can assume they use beige [called til in Hindi].  Actually, sesame is more of a South Indian thing. You'll find the black seeds farther east."

And for the pappu? Beige, of course.

*     *     *

"So I'm wondering...," said I.  "What if a person couldn't get a hold of potsticker wraps, do you think wonton wraps could be used?"

"Absolutely," said Trobee.  "The reason I know is because I asked
the lady at the Asian grocery store.  She said, they're the same except wontons
are square and potstickers are round." 

"Wow, Trobee. You actually asked. Good for you."

*     *     *

Upon Trobee's cooking session of the pappu: "I think I effed this one up, Courty." 

"What do you mean?" 

She confessed to a coarse-grind of the soaked sesame, not cooking the dish long enough....It turned out more like moist breadcrumbs rather than the 'fine paste' the original recipe had called for. We blame our dorky blender.

But you know what? We like it that way.

*     *     *

I noticed from pictures of earlier attempts that our pappu was looking like scrambled eggs.  Can't have that.  Trina and I opted to reduce the turmeric to just an 1/8 of a teaspoon.

*     *     *

Although Trina had cooked the Sesame Pappu with great success, once adding it to a Chinese rice noodle dish, she wasn't enthusiastic about the idea of using it for potstickers. Reason: the girl said she didn't like potstickers.  Shocking, considering her penchant for Chinese and Vietnamese cuisine.  But then, Trina doesn't like some of the uncertain, fatty mixtures of ingredients that are often laced in restaurant potstickers. (Minced pork, for example.)

Once Trobee and I had tried it, we were confident that she would like our Sesame Pappu Potstickers.  ("These are a hit, Court!") Oh yes, we had a feeling that these would rock her world (without the jalapenos of course).

Sure enough... haha. Once Trina had finished cooking them up, she scrambled to mix up her beloved Hoisin sauce with lime juice -- and made happy sounds as she went at em. "You gotta try this!" she said to whomever entered the kitchen.

They didn't last long.

photos by Trina and Trobee

Shout out to Francois of Paris, France for the use of his stunning pic 'Serenity' as a backdrop in our top-of-the-post pic. Check out his amazing online photo gallery here.

---

Sesame Pappu Stir-Fry

1 cup sesame seeds
1 Tb oil
1 medium onion, sliced
10-15 jalapeno rings (Tro tends to double this. Trina doesn't add any.)
1/2 tsp cayenne or paprika
1/8 tsp turmeric
Salt
1 tsp garlic paste or minced garlic


Masala:

• 1/2 tsp black mustard seeds
• 1/8 tsp asafetida
• 1/2 tsp raw chickpeas/chana dal
• 5 curry leaves

1. Soak the sesame seeds in 1 cup of water for about 20 minutes. Dump this sesame seed- water mixture into a blender and whizz the stuff into a paste. Set aside.
2. In a medium skillet, heat the oil until it is sizzle-hot. Add the masala. As soon as the black mustard seeds have quit popping, add the onions and jalapenos. Cook until onions are golden brown.
3. Now dump in the sesame paste. Cook until the water evaporates, about. 10-15 minutes. It should be like moist breadcrumbs.
4. Add the cayenne or paprika, turmeric, and salt. Mix well. Sauté for about 1-2 minutes.
5. Add the garlic and sauté for a few more minutes to heat it through. Done.

Sesame Pappu Potstickers 

18 potsticker or wonton wraps
1 cup Sesame Pappu Stir-fry
1 egg
dab of oil


In a bowl, combine the Sesame Pappu Stir-fry and the egg. Place about 1 tsp of the mixture onto the center of the wrap. As you might suspect, Trobee shoved extra jalapenos into the wraps. The little minx.

Dip your finger in water and moisten the outside of wrap. Fold over the filling, making it look like a half-moon. Push firmly together on the rim of thewrap to secure the inside.

Get out your medium skillet and heat a dab of oil. Place the little guys in the pan and fry until their bottoms are golden-brown.

Now add 1/2 cup of water. Cover and simmer for 10 minutes. Done.

And for the dipping sauce? Go wild. 

Dipping sauces we have used so far:

• Teriyaki sauce
• Hoisin sauce splashed with lime juice (Trina's contribution)
• our own Pineapple-Tamarind Dipping sauce
• and even ranch dressing mixed with a hot sauce

Can Trobee Help Your TUNA?

        Noodles should never be violated with warm tuna, I've always felt. Some people dig it. Good for them. Really. It's less 'damaging' then, say, piling on the cheese or butter or oil or what-have-you.

         But I gently let Trobee know in advance that I would try her latest pet project of spicing up Tuna Helper, but I wouldn't be having a whole helping, no matter how much the tuna-with-pasta was helped. Would she be willing to bring it home?

           "Hell yeah it's gonna turn out good." She'd been mentally shaping the masala, I could see.

          "Ok then. Go for it." Who knows? It might turn out cool.

          She was already filling a pan with water. As if on cue, one of her favorite hip-hop tunes blared from the radio. "Yessss!"

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

I was kinda' proud to have a can of tuna from a natural food store-- purchased months ago after I had read about how healthy tuna was. Never got around to eating it, though. The holiday season happened. You understand.

Trobee, however, wasn't so impressed with it. "This stuff is harder to break up, but I got it to work. Where the heck did you get this?""

"It's organic," I explained. "Gee, it makes me feel kinda gourmet."

"Tuna makes you feel kinda horny?" a random dude called out.

"Gourmet!" I said.

Said Trobee: "Well, it works okay..."

She herself prefers to use the cheap, common supermarket variety, packed in water. NOT oil. "When it's packed in oil, it doesn't taste bad. Just oilier." And she garnished these sage words with a repulsed expression.

*     *     *

"I gotta say, Court. Black mustard seeds are way better when they're popped in butter instead of oil," Trobee declared from the stove. "I think, anyway," she added. "Yep, that's right little guys. Pop pop away like popcorn."

"What do you mean by 'better?" I wanted to know.

"It's just faster, I think. See? They're done popping already, which is awesome. And the flavor...it's a little different, I don't know how to explain it."

"Or ghee--" I began.

"Orgy?" a random dude called out eagerly.

"No! No. Ghee. Just-- basically butter with the solids skimmed off."

"Huh?"

"Butter with some of the crap removed. It doesn't burn so fast. It's-- never mind."

"Oh."

*     *     *

There's a crapload of butter in this kind, like HALF A STICK -- but I lessened it," Trobee announced.

"Really? No way!"

"I used only two tablespoons."

"Gooood. There's no way a lot of Our People would deal with that much. Good job."

(Note: The missing butter was not missed.)

"This is cooking up real wonderful-like," Tro purred happily as she stirred. Frozen veggies, she commented, can turn out surprisingly terrific if spiced right...

*     *      *

"Oooh. Oooh, Courty this looks beautiful!" She honked down a few bites and nodded her head. "Good stuff, man.!"

"All right, all right, let's see this stuff."

She carried over the steaming pan and presented the spiced-up Tuna Fettuccine Alfredo to me like a kindergartener at show and tell. It looked... pretty, actually."So you want a bite?"

"Umm... sure..." Bite. Bite. Hm. "Oh, Tro. You have made Tuna Helper lovely. I'll be damned."

Brother Chase lumbered into the kitchen, stupid with hangover. Saw it-- "Mmm." Took a bite-- "Mmm!" NOTE: Chase does not like warm tuna. Nor is he very open to Indian-style food. Thus, his reactions always interest me.

"Guess it's a post," said I."We'll try this same masala on a few varieties and see how it plays out."

 

photos by Trina and Trobee

---

Tuna Helper Masala Pasta

Trobee says: "This recipe has two really good things about it. First of all, of course, the spices. Perfect. It flavors it up, but it's not overpowering. Secondly, adding the vegetables. The vegetables make it a full meal. It really boosts it up."

box of Tuna Helper, any variety
1 tsp butter or ghee
¼ cup onion, chopped
1 tsp garlic paste or minced garlic
¾ cup frozen mixed vegetables

Masala 1:

• 1 tsp black mustard seeds
• 3 red dried chilies
• 5 curry leaves

Masala 2:

• 1 ¼ tsp cumin powder
• 2 tsp coriander powder
• ½ tsp paprika

1. In a large skillet, heat the butter or ghee. Add masala 1 and cook until the black mustard seeds have quit popping.
2. Immediately add the onions. When the onions are clear and soft, add the garlic. Cook until golden brown.
3. Add masala 2. Sauté for about 1 minute. According to the box directions, add the tuna, water, milk, and pasta. Bring to a boil.
4. Add the veggies. Simmer and cover for 12-15 minutes. Done.

Of GARAM MASALA and BELL PEPPERS

      We at the NC catch recipes like butterflies in our net --they are random and isolated, fluttering past and capturing our wonderings. In this case, however.....          

          "Go on to the Route 79 blog," I told Trobee one foggy day. "It's cool. By a British dude named Jag. He has lots of good stuff on there I wanna try, and I can't decide what. You choose."

          "Oh-kayyy...." Trobee took her position at the computer and entered the Route 79 site (-- "Reflections on a bus journey home"). She skimmed through the recipe roster, muttering comments and reactions that I really didn't pay much attention to. Why bother? There would eventually be one that she would seize upon, and other ideas would fall away from her memory like fallen autumn leaves. Give it a moment.

          "Oooh! Check this one out, Court. This looks really good: Chicken Rice. I think we have everything, too."

          Chicken Rice. Didn't sound earth-shatttering. But names of Indian dishes are often deceptively simple. Defiantly simple, in a most devious way. Oh yes. Pictures of Indian food, on the other hand...

          I checked it out. Hm. Possibilities there. "All right, go for it."

          I liked how the recipe had the attitude of working with humble ingredients that were on hand. Two 'decaying' bell peppers versus Jag's imagination; no need to toss them just yet. In their last gasp, this Chicken Rice dish could redeem them, meanwhile satisfying the day's supper space. (Says Jag in the post:"Well - it’s not bad given that it was scraped together from stuff in the fridge that would have been thrown out today. The chicken was leftover from a Route79 toasted club sandwich with avocado we had a few days ago...")

          Mastery of the moment into something tasty. Cool.

          Trobee liked the play-by-play of photography that demonstrated the recipe step-by-step. "I like this guy's style," she commented. "Where did you say he was from?"

           "He writes from London. He does his thinking while taking the bus home. You know, those cool red double-decker buses? I rode one at Disney World once. Anyway, he's different in the blogging world. Unique. Maybe because he's been at it since before blogging became the 'in thing'."

          I didn't think she was listening anymore at this point. Her mind was in foodie la-la-land. She was imagining. Taking mental notes. Fine by me.

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

Trobee murmurs to the food as it cooks -- a sort of spice-seductress Scherezade. With tattoos.

"Boil, boil up there, my pot of gold."

It works, so I pretend not to notice. Maybe it's like when gardeners talk to their plants....

*      *     *

"What does he mean by 'decaying'?" Trina wanted to know when it was her turn.

"Huh?" I looked at the recipe. Sure enough, it called for 2 'decaying' bell peppers.

"Oh. Oh, yeah. I think he just means that it's what he had, and what he was determined to work with. As in, use whatever you got, y'know?"

Which was the charm of Jag's recipe in the first place. Could Trina happily handle its 'whatever' vibe? Its un-recipe-like instructions? We would see. I was curious.

*     *     *

At any rate, we did not have bell peppers that were 'decaying'. Not today. As it happened, ours at the NC were juicy and ripe. Perky, even. Brother Chase had just selected them earlier that day in anticipation of his own thing. Which wouldn't be nearly as cool as our creation. I decided I would borrow the beautiful 'bells'.

"Chase is going to kill me," I acknowledged,"but whatever."

*     *     *

Garam masala, garam masala. It is in so many traditional and non- traditional Indian recipes. Yet despite our fascinated attraction for Indian spicing styles, you may have noticed that we include the popular spice blend in very few of our recipes. A few people have questioned us about this in e-mails.

Confession: We have created this recipe several times with great affection, but we on posting on it. The reason? It relies on garam masala. We at the NC harbor a scandalous (perhaps) attitude towards garam masala.

The truth is, we're prejudiced when it comes to involving garam masala in an NC recipe (We like Our People to share our eating experiences as closely as posible). It is, after all, a spice mixture that doesn't own up to any set formula -- an 'X-factor'. Sure, there are a few spices that are commonly featured, such as cloves, coriander, bayleaf, and pepper; it retains a mostly North Indian identity. But not even that is certain.

I frequently read that each household makes their own garam masala from scratch, turning up their noses at storebought varieties. However, Trina's buddy from South India claims that she has never heard of someone making their own. Buying a favorite garam masala, for her family anyway, is the way to go.

"Really?" from us at the NC. Okay then. We decided to try out a pre-mixed variety, since we couldn't settle on one homemade version. What better way to test the stuff with Jag's Chicken Rice Recipe?

Well, we also had a few pretty pictures to show off. So here goes.

photos by Trina and Trobee

top graphic by Mo Digital

---

Route 79 Bell Pepper n'  Chicken Pilaf

An evolution that began via Route 79.

1 cup rice
2 chicken breasts or 8 oz. seitan, chopped and cooked
1 1/2 tsp oil
2 dried red chillies
1 tsp garlic paste or minced garlic
1 red onion, chopped
1 carrot, diced
1 red bell pepper, chopped
1 yellow bell pepper, chopped
1 cup diced tomatoes
Splash of lemon juice
1 tsp salt


Masala:

• 1 tsp coriander powder
• 1 tsp turmeric
• 2 tsp garam masala
• 1/4 tsp ginger powder

1. In a medium skillet, heat the oil until it is sizzle-hot. Add the dried chillies ans saute until they are a bit darker.  Add the garlic paste, followed by the masala. Cook 1-2  minutes.
2. Add the carrots and onions. Sauté until the onions are clear in color. Add the bell peppers and the diced tomatoes . Cook until the tomatoes are cooked through.
3. Add the rice and sauté for 1-2 minutes. Add a splash of lemon juice, salt, and 2 cups of water. Bring to a boil.
4. Add the cooked chicken cubes. Cover the pan and simmer for about 15 minutes or until the rice is done.

Click here to see Jag's original recipe

Gettin' Our GOULASH to Go GiddyUp!

     It was not a dark and stormy night. It was Monday, just Monday, and we at the NC didn't feel like doing a damn thing. We just kind of sat there and talked about nothing. I was OK with that. Really.

          Trobee, on the other hand, eventually felt a ridiculous need to actually accomplish something. "So what should we do?"

          Shrug from me. "Whatever," I mumbled. "I don't think there's any food here anyway. Not even potatoes. See for yourself."

         A challenge. She rifled through the fridge, she poked through the cupboards. She came up with noodles, a cheap-o can of tomato sauce, frozen hamburger, half an onion, some shredded cheese...

          And so.... goulash it was. It had long been a 'someday' project. Guess today was the day.

           Now then. I'm not talking about the traditional Hungarian goulash. (See the Chili & Vanilia blog for a piece of that action -- written by real live Hungarian Zsofi.) I speak of the humble Midwest U.S. version, also generically referred to as 'hotdish'. Pasta hastily mixed up with the simplest of ingredients mentioned above. It is, to me, the unglamorous family dinner dish of Normalness. Something for busy moms to throw together to 'do the job'.

         American-style goulash. It's so very Monday.

         "Actually that just might work out well," I said. I was almost getting a little bit enthusiastic. We were going to jazz up the humdrum goulash, just like the NC catchphrase says (see banner at top of page). It would be just like all those 'old skool' teen movies when a nice dork was transformed to ultimate coolness -- with the help of someone 'in the know'.         

          Trobee took her seat and pulled out the notebook. "So how are we gonna do this?"

         Spicing-ideas bubbled forth. It was, after all, a familiar (though somewhat bland) dish. We knew the taste of it so well; spicing would be easily imagined. This would be fun...and eventually, I confidently believed, fantastically tasty.

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

"Do you think we should add fennel seeds?"

Fennel seeds seemed an obvious addition at first. Pasta with tomato and onion? C'mon.

But then, no. No. Fennel seeds our goulash would not have. The licorice-like spice would stamp it with an Italian-ish identity. Not that Indo-Italian was a bad thing by any means -- it had worked so well in our Masala-Mama Mostaccioli. But it was not for this.

Ajwain. Cumin, of course. Northern Indian spices seemed in order. A lashing of clove. Yes.

"Curry leaves?"

With pasta? Hm...

*     *     *

Celery. Without celery, it would not be goulash. I realized only then that celery is not a common ingredient I see in Indian recipes. Cripes, my mom put it in everything. Spicing it would be interesting.     

"Any whole spices in this?" Trobee asked as she jotted things down

"Hell no. We don't want seeds or leaves floating around here. We're going to powder-ize all the spices."

"Yeah, I agree with that." 

*     *     *   

"This is fantastic," I declared after a few giant bites. "It's great. Warm and bold and wintry." Just how I wanted it.

Quorn could easily substitute for hamburger. (My future version proved this.)And chileheads could easily crank up the heat as they chose (Trobee.) And cheeseheads? Why, they could have a heyday.

Trobee happily agreed. "Damn good!" I wasn't sure if she was talking about the food or her cooking. But I nodded anyway.

The end.

photos by Trina

Shout out to Majamom (Marybeth) for letting us use her cool vintage pic at the top of the post.

---

GiddyUp Goulash

2 cups uncooked egg noodles or elbow macaroni
1 lb. hamburger or Quorn pieces
1 small white or yellow onion, chopped
2 tsp garlic paste or minced garlic
1/2 stalk of celery, chopped
1 cup of diced tomatoes
1 (14.5 oz.) can of tomato sauce
1/2 tsp tamarind concentrate, dissolved in 1 Tb water
2 tsp sugar or honey
2 tsp paprika
1/2 cup shredded cheese
2 green onions, the green parts only (for a garnish)

Masala:

2 dried red chilies (optional)
1 Tb cumin seeds
1 Tb coriander seeds
1/4 tsp peppercorns
1-inch cinnamon stick
1 tsp fenugreek seeds
1/4 tsp ajwain seeds
4 whole cloves
10 curry leaves

1) Cook the pasta until it is almost done. Soft but just a bit firm. Drain. Set aside.
2) Brown the hamburger, if that is what you are using. Drain. Set aside.
3) In a medium skillet, dry roast the masala until the cumin seeds have darkened a few shades. Whizz it to a powder in your coffee grinder. Set aside.
4) Back to the skillet. Heat the oil. Saute the white onions until they are soft and clear. Add the garlic paste and masala, followed by the paprika. When the garlic is light brown, add the celery. Continue to cook until the celery is soft.
5) Now add the diced tomatoes, the tomato sauce, the tamarind water, and sugar or honey.
6) In a big pot, combine all of the ingredients (including the Quorn, if using) and cook until the cheese is melted. 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

---

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.

Giving SHRIMP a Naughty Reputation...

 

     "Come to me. Make sweet love to me," a woman's voice bleated from the television screen.

           Those two words buzzed at the back of my mind as I worked on my stuff' from 'my corner' of the NC kitchen. Sweet love. Sweet love. Why not spicy love? Sour love? Tangy-hot salty love? Love that is simply sweet is not nearly so alluring. Not to me. (Now Ruthie...)

          Love is a powerful and vital element at the spicy NC Kitchen. It is not safe, not predictable... potentially electric... Today, I decided then, we would focus on hot love. Tangy love. From the city with the fiery reputation....

              Nevertheless, it was the sacred Soap Opera Hour at the NC, when our Trobee is transfixed by an assortment of characters and events that completely contradict her 'Harley chick' persona.

           "Today " I announced at the show's end, when she was left breathless with suspense, "we're going to finalize the 'hot shrimp recipe'." From Stef Patag of Noodles and Rice.

          "Yesss!" She flew to the freezer and pulled out the bag of frozen shrimp that had been waiting for our spicy affections for nearly a month. "l forgot already what this dish is called."

          "Madras Shrimp."

          "Oh, OK." she muttered as she pulled out our large skillet. But I knew the name hadn't stuck -- she would probably forget it completely within minutes.

          Yet it was important that Trobee, of all people, did remember. The name 'Madras' when linked to a food item is charged with meaning. Wicked for some, gorgeous-glorious for others (in a punishing sort of way), and most definitely NOT sweet and NOT nice....

       "Madras is a city in the south of India, famous all over the world for being super-spicy-hot," I told her. "So when you see Madras in the name of a dish, like on a recipe or a menu, it will be hot. Or at least try to be."

          "Cool."

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

The first thing Trobee and I had decided to do during our first attempt at the recipe was use Sriracha sauce instead of the tomato puree. We tend to avoid recipes that call for a tiny amount of tomato paste (a lot of Indian recipes do). We just don't want to open a can of tomato paste just for one lousy tablespoon, we don't normally have fresh tomatoes on hand, it seems like messy extra work to puree one anyway... and hey, we think Sriracha works just great! (Ahem. Where was I?)

Since this was Madras Shrimp, we substituted with Sriracha without guilt.

Sriracha sauce can be found in any Asian grocer or regular supermarket. Consisting of little more than red chillies and vinegar, I've also heard it referred to as Chinese ketchup. Just look for the rooster.

*     *     *

"What else?" I asked Trobee. "What else should we tell Our People about this dish?"

"Tell them." she said,"this recipe really isn't that hot. I mean, it is, but most people I know would be able to eat it."

"Even using Sriracha for the tomato puree? Let me try it again...." Yum. Pow. Burst of flavor that complements the textured mouthfeel of shrimp oh so well. But not scorching. No watery eyes, no tingly tongue.

"Yeah. You're right, Tro. Ruthie will have to have some then. She'll love it!"

"But not Trina."

We grinned the way people do when they're discussing cute children.

"No, not Trina."

*     *     *

To prove her point that this recipe is hot-yet-still-approachable (like her, I added), she fed some to her spice-fussy boyfriend, Jeremy (having used 1 Tb of Sriracha sauce).

"He totally demolished it," she said. "Didn't leave me any. The kid is a total sally [her slanderous term for not being able to handle spice-heat], but he loved it."

"So what would you do to make it hotter for yourself?"

"Add more Sriracha," she said. "More pepper. If it was for me."

photos by Trobee

graphic by Mo Digital

---

Madras Shrimp

• 2 tsp oil
• ½ tsp black mustard seeds
• ½ cup chopped onion
• 2 tsp coriander powder
• 1/2-1 tsp coarse-ground black pepper
• ¼ tsp turmeric
• 1 ½ tsp garlic paste or minced garlic
• ¼ cup water or broth
• 2 tsp lemon juice
• 1-2 TB Sriracha sauce (or tomato puree)
• 1/3 tsp salt
• 3/4 lb. shrimp (This was exactly half of our frozen bag)

1. In a large skillet, heat the oil until it is sizzle-hot. Add the black mustard seeds and saute until they quit popping.
2. Add the onion, followed by the garlic.
3. Next add the coriander powder, pepper, and turmeric. Cook the mixture until the garlic is light brown and the onion pieces are soft and translucent.
4. Now add the water or broth, Sriracha sauce (or tomato puree), lemon juice and salt. Cook for about a minute on medium heat.
5. Add the shrimp and stir to evenly cover the little guys in sauce. Cook for another 10 minutes, or until the shrimp is cooked through. Done.

Click here to see Stef's original recipe and scrumptious photo

Raiders of the Lost NEPALI Recipe

        ~In another dimension of time ~ (before the NC bloomed into a blog), when Trina was new to the NC kitchen and our spice-cookin' ways, there existed a flavor-moment experienced by Trina that we at the NC believed we'd never be able to recapture... until now.

          Let me explain.

          See, Trobee and I thought to cook for the spicing-newbie a dish that would demonstrate that spicy need not mean hot, that creamy need not involve cream. And we wanted to encourage Trina's blossoming tastebuds.

          So Trobee and I pulled out this recipe from the NC File Cabinet labelled 'Recipes to Try'. It looked like a dish that she just might like. Was I busy that day? cause I don't remember trying any, and I took no notes on it. Trobee was either full that day or in a hurry... she only vaguely recalls cooking it. Like I said, it was *another dimension of time* for the NC -- pre-blog, when I didn't always take notes.

          When Trina claimed to love it, I didn't take it seriously. She was new here and seemingly nice and polite. How was I to know that the dish truly rocked her world? Or that it would become the favorite chicken dish of another NC taste-tester (who at the time was new and seemingly polite. Hi, Brad.).

          Because since then, People, I have not heard the end of it. How could I have lost the recipe? Blahblahblah. Believe me, we have searched our files, raided the NC folders, only to conclude that the recipe was tossed. A flavor-moment lost and gone forever. (I swear there is a black hole existing in my karma universe that swallows up such things from time to time).

          Until this week...

          "Trina, I think... I do believe this is it! The one! The Lost Recipe!"

          We had been going through a stack of papers that had been shoved in an unlabelled folder -- a recipe for Creamy Chicken hid at the bottom.

           Trina scanned it suspiciously and commented that it didn't say where it came from. But suddenly it was all coming back to me. The paste made of ground almonds that lent the tell-tale creaminess. The fact that it was plucked from a list of tantalizing Nepali recipes. (The spicing style of Nepal had intrigued me). And --

          "Tulsi Regmi," I said. "Yes, Tulsi Regmi!"

          This utterance was not, as Trina might have thought, the Hind or Tamil name of the dish. Nor did it mean 'victory' in Sanskrit. It is a woman's name -- the source of the Nepali recipes, including this one.

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

"Now, Tro. Be questioning of this recipe. Trina made it the other day without a peep. No questions, no discussion. So I'm guessing it's pretty easy..."

"Wow. Ok."

*     *     *

"No! Chicken does NOT need oil when you're just cooking it up by itself."

"Oh. Well Trina only used like a teaspoon. And I'd have to say, her chicken was melt-in-your-mouth tender..."

I hid my wicked grin. Trobee and Trina have this thing as to who can cook the tenderest chicken. I figure, competition is good. For me.

"Just do what you want," I said. "Really."

"So I can just add drops of water to tenderize it? That's Ok?"

"Yes! And if your oil-free version is as good, we'll finalize the recipe that way."

Trobee got out the skillet and began adding the chicken pieces, muttering  all the while about how her chicken was damn t