Tag Archives: vegetarian curry recipe

Baby corn and potato curry in smoky Mexican chipotle chilli and dark chocolate

14 May

Baby corn and potato curry in smoky Mexican chipotle chilli and dark chocolate

 

Baby corn and potato curry in smoky Mexican chipotle chilli and dark chocolateMy parents were on face time whilst I was making this curry today. My little sweetie had been running around in his spider costume, “I’m not Aarav, I’m spider Aarav” and insisting that I play with him instead of cooking, not dad…mumma. He knows. “It’s nice to see Rakesh at home and in the kitchen too, wow” commented my dad. They know it doesn’t happen all the time. So my husband turned the phone towards  me, showing that I was grating chocolate into the curry, “Look at what your daughter is doing”. My mum let out her idiosyncratic youthful and quiet giggle and my dad thought it was really interesting. Interesting, rather than any ode to the ridiculous butchering of a simple curry.

I did live my childhood without limits in my mind. I’m sure that if I had told my folks I wanted to become a Bollywood actress they would have said something about me having to learn how to dance rather than see my 5ft1 inch frame as an eliminating clause. I remember wanting to write a novel and my husband (before our marriage when I was a teen) asked me why not.  There was no reason not. I know kids are supposed to do things when there’s a time but I saw that my little one wanted to talk and he started naming animals and objects at ten months, why not?

So then when did the limits come in (to my mind)? Was it when they gave me predicted grades at school and deliberately undercooked them to ‘motivate’ me? Apparently they never predicted straight A’s as that would have made me complacent, apparently. Or was it when my manager spent an hour and half telling me the things that I needed to do better or wasn’t very good at because there was no point in telling me about the 95% (as he stated) of stuff I did right? Or was it when the health visitors and nursery nurses told me that my child would probably never be an eater. Or was it the people who told me that mainly celebrity folk get published in the magazines. When did it become about what is ‘realistic’. What can we afford? Even that’s a limit isn’t it? Where is a realistic place to find a new house?

I say, be the child that lets the mind float into wants and ventures. Like this curry.

Baby corn and potato curry in smoky Mexican chipotle chilli and dark chocolate

Have you seen how dark and deep that colour is? The chipotle and red pepper give smoky accents to the vegetarian curry and then you feel this deep, lightly bitter sweetness that’s quite embracing. You will smell whole spices and they add warmth, but don’t overpower the recipe. It is not a quiet curry that hides in the middle of a week of ‘I just ate’. No. This curry is for those times when you want to carry forwards.

Ingredients

350g baby corn, slit into quarter lengths

450g potatoes, peeled and cubed

4 cloves of garlic, roasted in their skins

2 cloves

1 small stick of cinnamon

1 tsp. cumin seeds

Salt to taste

45g chipotle chilli paste

20g dark chocolate

500ml water

3 red peppers, roasted

1 tsp. coriander powder

1 tsp. cumin powder

1 tsp. amchur powder or a squeeze of lemon juice

One onion, thinly sliced

¼ tsp. turmeric

4-5 curry leaves

2 tbsp. cooking oil

Method

  1. Blitz the (skinned) garlic and red peppers to a puree and leave it to a side
  2. Heat the oil in a pan and add the cumin seeds, cloves, cinnamon and turmeric and curry leaves and allow the seeds to sizzle before introducing the onion and salt. Sauté the onion until it has softened before mixing in the baby corn and the potatoes.
  3. Sprinkle in the cumin powder, coriander powder and the amchur powder. Mix it all well and then add the water and roasted red pepper mix and bring the curry to a simmer.
  4. Stir in the chipotle chilli paste and then grate in the dark chocolate.
  5. Cover the curry and simmer it until the potatoes are cooked.
  6. Serve with rice or better, buttery chappati.

Roasted tomato, basil and paneer curry

18 Mar

 Roasted tomato, basil and paneer curry

The natural rhythm

There’s this park that has become a piece of my history. I can’t say that it’s anything spectacular, unusual or impressive and neither do I harbour much residual excitement for it or even love. But it’s there. Not here.

As a child it was the making of a special day out. The reason to gather cousins and friends, balls and bats and eat ice cream and thepla (spicy fenugreek chapatti because no picnic was ever complete without them). It was a reason to run fast and free, get wet and exhausted. The park felt enormous, an oasis in a city beating with samosa and cheese. It was a proper day out, from pet’s corner, café, boat riding to walking along the oriental bridge.

As teenagers my best friend and I, whom I met when we were just four, would take walks of distraction through the park. It felt much smaller now, as we walked fast to burn off those empty calories we had consumed during exam preparation with the drizzle on our faces. We would laugh and crack ridiculous jokes to ease the pressures and discharge the studious tones of the day. We would normally end up in the café, which looked like it had frozen in time a few decades ago. The counter revealed tray bakes with hundreds and thousands on them and sloppy icing. We giggled.

In our late teens my friends and I bonded on the bench that overlooked the boating lake. We had a hidden spot, or so we thought. I had overheard my mum and her friends talk about one of their colleagues who had an affair with a bloke and they would secretly meet on the same bench.

So we talked and shared. The more we shared the closer we felt and this was important at that age. Aspirations, family life, crushes, university, where we would like to live. Possibilities, opportunities, prospects and potentials; it was all open and we chattered about all the reactions surrounding this openness. Except now we weren’t beaming when squirrels came to greet us because we were busy scowling at glaring teenage boys and eventually we stopped frequenting that spot when we saw enormous rats scuffle along the trees behind the bench. Had they always been there?

In our early twenties, my now husband and I would find space in the park. Space to hold hands, to talk or to have it out about our frustrations. I had graduated but was in a London-Leicester limbo and he was working and missing me. We didn’t have a home of our own and when everyone else’s talking or eyes descended, we averted by walking in the park.

We took my boy and my niece to the park the other day when I was visiting the family. I could see the factories beyond the walls and hear the busses and cars swooshing past. My boy wanted to run free and fast.  The kiddies held hands as we showed them the ducks and the bridge looked small. The café wasn’t heaving with squeals or smiles but still sold sloppy looking tray bakes and chips with cheese on them. The faces were unfamiliar and there were fewer flowers. The rabbits were sleepy and fat. Had my rhythm changed, or is the past just the past.

It was good to be home. The house looked cleaner than I remembered leaving it and I wanted something to revive me from the fatigue and sleepy memories. Tomatoes are more intense and deep coloured when roasted, with more sweetness and that’s what got me started. There is no pairing like tomatoes and basil and a curry cajoles me into my natural rhythm, always. It was meant to be. This curry is unusual, but you know it will work, don’t you.

Roasted tomato, basil and paneer curry

Ingredients to serve 3-4ss

250g paneer cut into 2cm cubes

6 deep red tomatoes

4 cloves of garlic

2 cardamom pods

1 tsp. cumin seeds

¼ tsp. mustard seeds

2 cloves

1 small stick of cinnamon

200ml water

75g basil, very finely chopped (I used a food processor)

1 tsp. paprika

¾ tsp. paprika

Salt to taste

4 spring onions, trimmed and chopped

2 green chillies, slit and halved

½ tsp. turmeric

2 tbsp. oil for the curry and 1 tbsp. for shallow frying the paneer

Method

  1. Cut the tomatoes and in half and drizzle them with oil. Sit them on some baking paper with the cut side upwards and roast them in the oven at 150degrees until they look lightly brown and intense. Whilst the tomatoes are roasting, mid-way add 4 cloves of garlic in their shell and let them roast too.
  2. Heat a non-stick pan and add 1 tbsp. oil to shallow fry the paneer until it is lightly golden. Remove onto some kitchen paper and drain off the excess oil.
  3. Once the tomatoes and garlic are roasted, lightly blitz them together so that you have a chunky sauce.
  4. Heat 2 tbsp. in the non-stick pan add the cumin seeds, turmeric, chillies, cardamom pods, cloves and cinnamon and allow the seeds to sizzle before stirring in the onions and salt. Sauté for a couple of minutes.
  5. Pour in the tomato and garlic sauce and bring the mixture to a simmer before sprinkling in the paprika and garam masala and then the paneer with water.
  6. Simmer for 7-8 minutes before mixing in the basil and then simmer for a further two minutes.
  7. Serve hot with chapatti or rice.
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