660 Curries

Flaky Breads Stuffed with Spinach and Cheese (Palak Paneer Parantha, from 660 Curries, p.734) takes the traditional Indian flatbread parantha and jazzes it up with spinach and paneer. Though the recipe looks long, it’s the detailed explanation that makes it so. After you’ve made these once, you’ll not need to refer to the guidelines again. Here’s a step by step process simplified:

Step 1 - Make a simple dough of roti flour, which is a soft whole wheat flour, with a touch of salt, oil, and water to hydrate.

Step 2 - Make a filling of spinach, paneer (cheese), mango powder (amchur), chiles and salt.

Step 3 – Roll out the dough pieces and divide the filling evenly among them.

Step 4- Fold to cover, gently roll out again, and cook in a skillet brushing them with ghee.

Step 5 Devour these at snack-time or as part of a meal.

I was short on one ingredient and did a little substitution. Can you tell by the first picture what the change was? I’ll give you a hint. Look at the color of the filling.

Give up? Well, I was a little short on frozen spinach, but had a little red chard, so I wilted it and added it to the spinach. OK, I’ve never seen chard in any Indian cookbook, but I believe in being flexible, and they tasted good, which is really the key. I made them a second time with spinach, and found that the secret to the filling is making sure you squeeze the spinach dry, so remember that when you make these tasty breads.

You may have heard of Mulligatawny (660 Curries, page 649), seen a recipe, or eaten it at a restaurant. It’s a familiar Anglo-Indian dish, and one that can vary almost as much as chili does in America. The one common ingredient you’ll likely find is English style Madras curry powder, a spice blend meant to capture Indian flavors in one bottle for the English who colonized India.

This Mulligatawny recipe is full of vegetables – onion, green pepper, carrot, tomato, and peas, along with chicken, creamy coconut milk, and, of course, curry powder. I enjoyed reading Raghavan’s introduction, with a brief history of the soup. The name comes from “molagha tanni” or “pepper water”, a Tamilian word, though it’s not particularly peppery. I just call it healthy and delicious.

Begin by cooking the pigeon peas (how did they get that name?); meanwhile sauté your vegetable mélange.

Add chicken and spices and stir-fry. Things start to smell good around now. After combining the pureed dal and vegetable/meat mixture, you simmer with coconut milk, then it’s ready to serve.

It’s a brothy soup, so I recommend serving it with rice, either alongside or atop, as you’ll see below.

The recipe says serves 10, (I’d say more like 7-8) so there are leftovers for a delicious lunch. Your coworkers will be envious. Just tell them you got the recipe from 660 Curries!

I‘ve decided let the kids each select a recipes to try (and help make). I chose the section of the cookbook, and they picked the recipe. My son, the youngest, was instructed to select a potato recipe from the Vegetable Curries section. There were over 40 from which to choose.

His curry choice was “Potatoes with a Spicy Tomato-Cilantro Sauce” p.559. His only suggestion was making is a not-too-spicy sauce, which I accomplished by reducing the cayenne from 1 tsp to ¼ tsp. I also reduced the salt , as the amount seemed a bit much. Since a recent recipe from the test kitchen was Fish Filets with a Cilantro- Cream Sauce, and I know that some of you might not like cilantro that much, I’ve got a suggestion. You could substitute 1 cup finely chopped spinach leaves for the cilantro and get a similar color, though different flavor.

My son peeled the potatoes and we were off. Whenever I let the kids select the dish and help prepare it, they seem to like it more. Give that a try if you’ve got reluctant curry eaters. A sauté of the potatoes in oil with cumin seeds, addition of a few spices by my young assistant, then the tomato/cilantro sauce, and 30 minutes later we were ready to eat our potato curry.

Looks good enough to eat, right?

To quote my sous chef son, “Mom, this is the best one you’ve made so far. It’s really good”. Personally, I have a very difficult time deciding which is my favorite. Others in the family agreed that this recipe is a winner, though some said it could use a bit more cayenne. The recipe says serves 8, but we’ve only got enough leftovers for one lucky individual.

Once in a great while a curry comes along that blows everyone’s palate, including my own. This Maharashtrian-influenced potato dish will appeal to all, and I have no qualms betting my first-born on it. Even though it is a great side dish, I often stuff it into slices of pita bread for a substantial lunch, along with a bowl of creamy kidney beans (pages 357–359).
Serves 8

2 tablespoons white sesame seeds
2 tablespoons raw peanuts (without ths skin)
4 medium-size cloves garlic
3 dried red Thai or cayenne chiles, stems removed
2 tablespoons peanut or canola oil
1 pound russet or Yukon Gold potatoes, peeled,
cut into 1-inch cubes, and submerged in a
bowl of cold water to prevent browning
1/2 teaspoon ground turmeric
1 can (14.5 ounces) diced tomatoes
2 teaspoons coarse kosher or sea salt
2 tablespoons finely chopped fresh cilantro
leaves and tender stems
12 medium-size to large fresh curry leaves

1. Combine the sesame seeds, peanuts, garlic, and chiles in a food processor, and pulse to form a gritty, sticky, mellow-smelling blend.

2. Heat the oil in a medium-size saucepan over medium-low heat. Scrape the sesame-peanut blend into the warmed oil and roast the mixture, stirring, until it starts to release its own oils and loosen, turning crumbly and nutty brown, 5 to 8 minutes.

3. Meanwhile, drain the potatoes.

4. Stir the turmeric into the sesame-peanut blend and cook for 5 seconds. Then add the potatoes, tomatoes (with their juices), 1 cup water, and the salt. Stir once or twice, raise the heat to medium-high, and bring to a boil. Then reduce the heat to medium-low, cover the pan, and cook, stirring occasionally, until the potatoes are fork-tender and the sauce has thickened, 25 to 30 minutes.

5. Stir in the cilantro and curry leaves, and serve.

Excerpted from 660 Curries, page 550

Check out Raghavan’s guest blog entry for basilandspice.com where he discusses the health benefits of curry dishes!

Let’s make cheese! Some types of cheese are difficult to make and take months, even years, to age and develop optimal flavor. Not paneer, the typical Indian cheese (pg 286). It’s quite simple. Heat milk to boiling . . .

add vinegar, which makes curds form . . .

drain the liquid, and press out more whey to firm up the cheese.

Here’s what the end result looked like wrapped in plastic wrap.

The alternative, a trip to the Indian grocery store also yields acceptable paneer. Of course, with this simple cheese production, flavor is a bit lacking, but the herb rub in “Herb-Marinated Cheese with a Blackened Chile Sauce” (pg. 305) comes to the rescue.

One of my daughters tends her own herb garden in summer, so this recipe caught her eye when I asked her to select a recipe from the Paneer curries section. The herb blend of mint and cilantro along with curry leaves, green chiles and yogurt combine to make an aromatic blend that is rubbed on the cheese as a marinade. By the way, I’d suggest that when you press your paneer, try to mold it into a rectangle. It makes it easier to make “sticks” to skewer later before grilling. I learned this through experience. The first paneer I made was pressed over an overturned colander and though looking pretty in the round, did not make for easy stick cutting.

After an hour of marinading and 12 minutes under the broiler, during which I made the sauce, the paneer was ready to serve.

Speaking of the sauce, read Raghavan’s tip. I opened a window in the kitchen, since I don’t have an exhaust fan, but cough, I don’t cough think I had adequate cough ventilation. I think the sauce would work well with unblackened chile or a fresh chile, or, as my daughter said, “even no chile” would work, as the paneer itself has lots of flavor.

We all thought the paneer has a nice chewy texture. The herb/chile blend adds plenty of flavor. The chile/tomato sauce adds a nice color and cool sweetness.

Basmati rice and steamed carrots complemented the paneer curry for our meal. My daughter’s only regret was not requesting mango or rose lassi (a sweetened flavored yogurt drink) to go with it. There’s always next time.

If you’re inspired to try more paneer curries, let me recommend Paneer with Broccoli and Mango Powder (pg. 301).

Here is an example that shatters the myth of turmeric as the omnipresent curry spice. Armed with only five ingredients, this recipe shows the layers of complexities you can create with a few readily available ingredients. I break the mold and serve this as a fascinating appetizer, slathered onto pieces of crostini (toasted slices of French or Italian bread), along with a glass of wine as a precursor to a full-blown, robust curry dinner.
Serves 6

2 medium-size eggplants (2 to 2 1/2 pounds total)
2 teaspoons rock salt
4 large cloves garlic
3 fresh red Thai or cayenne chiles, stems removed (see Tip)
2 tablespoons Ghee (page 21) or melted butter

1. Preheat a gas (or charcoal) grill, or the broiler, to high.

2. Prick the eggplants in multiple spots with a fork or knife (this prevents them from bursting when you grill or broil them). Don’t bother to remove the stems, since they will be discarded once you skin the eggplants. If you are grilling, place the eggplants on the grill grate, cover the grill, and cook, turning them periodically to ensure even grilling, until the skin is evenly charred, about 25 minutes. If you use the broiler, position the broiler rack so the eggplants will be about 6 inches from the heat. Place the eggplant directly on the rack, or on a rack in a broiler pan, and broil, turning them periodically, until the skin is evenly charred, about 25 minutes.

3. While the eggplants are grilling, sprinkle the rock salt into a mortar and add the garlic and chiles. With the pestle, pound the contents into a pulpy mass, frequently scraping the paste from the bottom and folding it within itself to ensure and even mix.

4. Place the grilled eggplants in a bowl, cover with plastic wrap, and let them sweat in their own heat until the skin appears shriveled, about 15 minutes. Once the eggplants are cool to the touch,h peel them and discard the stems along with the skin. You will notice t hat there are eggplant juices in the bowl—make sure you do not discard them. Mash the eggplants well with a potato masher. (I often use a clean hand to do this if a masher is not handy.)

5. Fold the garlic-chile paste into the smoky-smelling eggplant.

6. Heat the ghee in a wok or a large skillet over medium heat. Add the eggplant påté and stir-fry for 10 to 12 minutes. This creates a second layer of roasted flavor and also roasts the garlic without burning it. Then serve.

Tip: Stop by any Asian grocery store to find mounds of fresh Thai chiles in the refrigerated produce section. Hand-pick the fiery reds for this recipe. If you don’t have access to such a store, go to the spice aisle of your supermarket, where you will find a jar or a bag of dried red chiles labeled Chiles Japones (means Japanese by these are Thai chiles) or Chile de Arbol (cayenne). Soak the required number of chiles in a bowl of hot water until reconsitituted, about 30 minutes.

Excerpted from 660 Curries, page 492.

Before I try to define that word, let me create an image for you from my college days in India, when I was pursuing that in chemistry. As I busied myself in the laboratory, I happened to knock a mercury thermometer onto the tile floor. Microscopic pieces of glass and droplets of liquid mercury dispersed, and I tried to pick up the pieces. The glass was easy, but not the mercury. The shining, silvery liquid was elusive (not to mention dangerous) and defied containment and form (we had no mercury spill kits back then). It moved freely with even the slightest nudge and affected everything it touched. Which brings me back to the task at hand: Defining curry is like trying to grasp liquid mercury and gather it into a neat pile.

It should come as no surprise to you (or maybe it does) that the word “curry” itself is unknown in the Indian vocabulary. It doesn’t appear in any of India’s twenty-three officially recognized languages and sixteen hundred dialects. Words like kari and kadhi refer to sauce-based or gravy-laden dishes that existed in India well before the Aryans got there – and with a civilization that spans 6,000 years, you can well imagine their longevity.

In England and the rest of the world, “curry” is the catchall word for anything Indian that is mottled with hot spices, with or without a sauce, and “curry powder” is the blend that delivers it. In keeping with my culture, I define a curry as any dish that consists of either meat, fish, poultry, legumes, vegetables, or fruits, simmered in or covered with a sauce, gravy, or other liquid that is redolent with spices and/or herbs. In my India, curry is never added – it just is!

To make it easier to comprehend the constitution of curries, I stripped it down into the seven Asian taste elements of sour, salty, sweet, hot, umami, bitter, and astringent and added an aromatic component to comprise a flavor profile (chef mumbo jumbo). To put it into perspective, all the ingredients we use (spices, legumes, meats, vegetables, dairy, herbs) to compose a curry falls neatly into one of those categories – but that neatness loses its clarity when you apply cooking techniques to them, changing their up-front quality to one that jumps taste boundaries. In other words, curries and their flavors are dynamic. Here is a simple chart that empowers you to create your own curry.

Elements of Curry chart

When Raghavan sent in his proposal for a curry cookbook, he suggested including 1,000 curries. Now, Indian food is my favorite and, boy, did that sound exciting. One thousand new recipes for a food I loved—I was set for years of great meals and a different one each night, if that’s what I wanted! Then I came to my senses. “Raghavan,” I said, “since we’d all like to see the book sometime in this decade, how about if we agree on, oh, 800 curries or somewhere in that range? And then we can call it 800 Curries.” He agreed (Was that disappointment or relief in his voice? I couldn’t tell.)

Raghavan set to work, but writing about all those months of creating and testing delicious curries is better left to him.

The Editor’s Challenge: 2000 pages vs. the final book

Let’s fast forward to the arrival of the manuscript in my office—it was over 2,000 pages, by the way (can you imagine if we had stuck to 1,000 curries?)—and it became very clear that unless we printed the book in tiny type and sent it out with a magnifying glass (sort of like the Oxford English Dictionary from the early 1970s), it would be too huge for even the most devoted curry fan. What to do? “Oh, Raghavan, I’m so sorry, but we’re going to have to cut recipes.” (no author likes to hear the “c” word). Of course each suggested cut was someone’s favorite recipe. But the “surgery” was successful and we had a more manageable cookbook (816 chock full pages!).

And what about the title? One day it was 800 curries, the next 750, the day after 700. Finally we came in at 660 and our “baby” had its name—660 Curries. Of course there’s a full chapter (very full—45 recipes) of curry go withs (called Curry Cohorts) that includes the wonderful rice and bread and chutney dishes that help make the curry experience sublime (but since they’re not curries, we didn’t include them in the count). And just wait until you try the curries (no, no don’t wait at all!)—Raghavan, hats off to you, your recipes are terrific and the book was pure pleasure to work on, to cook from, and to eat the results. So, what’s next?

Suzanne Rafer—the lucky editor of Raghavan Iyer’s cookbook

We have an herb garden in summer, which includes, in addition to basil and rosemary, cilantro, that lovely spring-like herb that is used in cuisine of India, Mexico, and southeast Asia. I know some people are not cilantro fans, but in our family, we all love it. Looking through the Fish & Seafood Curries section, I saw “Fish Fillets with a Cilantro-Cream Sauce” (660 Curries, p. 253)—sounds like a winner to me.

I went to the grocery store to pick up some firm-fleshed fish fillets (try saying that three times) for the recipe. In the recipe, Raghavan suggests cod, halibut, swordfish, bass or pollock. The cod was so fresh it practically jumped into my basket. Fresh fish can be an expensive addition to the menu, but this recipe is worth the occasional splurge. Besides, fish is really healthy for you!

It was really quite a simple recipe. No multi-component spice blend. No long simmer. The key ingredients were greens and whites: serranos, cilantro, and curry leaves plus half and half, yogurt, and garlic. Hey, perfect for St. Patrick’s!

I mixed the marinade, rubbed it on the fish and 30 minutes later began cooking.

A few minutes of sautéing, a few minutes of poaching, and it was done.

“Ooooh, that smells good, “said my husband, and I had to agree.

Garlic/cilantro aroma and flavor with some chile heat. The cod melted on the tongue. I could see this being on the menu of a fine restaurant, but we served it at home, atop basmati rice with a side of steamed carrots. Yum. I’d make this for company, and I bet you would too.

Coming next week. . . Kid’s Pick!
(potato curry and paneer curry)