FOOD ON THE FOOD

Curried Zucchini Soup

Summer squash getting you down? Do you have enough bat-sized zucchini to supply a major league baseball team? If so, then you need to make this soup. It's bright and flavorful with Indian flavors and only requires a half hour of work. More importantly, you will use up a full three pounds of zucchini while furnishing yourself with lunch for a week.

Curried Zucchini Soup  

I like to brown the vegetables to give this soup extra flavor. Feel free to adjust the amount of curry powder to your liking. You can add a little cayenne, too.

2 tablespoons unsalted butter
2 medium carrots, peeled, chopped
3 ribs celery, chopped
1 small onion, peeled, chopped
1 teaspoon curry powder
3 pounds zucchini (about 3 medium), cut into cubes
6 cups chicken or vegetable stock
1/2 cup heavy cream
2 teaspoons kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper

In a large soup pot, melt the butter over medium heat until it begins to bubble. Add the carrots, celery, onion, and curry powder. Cook, stirring occasionally, for 6 to 8 minutes, or until the vegetables soften and start to turn brown.

Stir in the zucchini. Add the stock, salt, and pepper, and bring it to a boil. Reduce the heat to medium-low and simmer for 12 to 15 minutes or until the zucchini is tender. Stir in the cream. Remove the soup from the heat to cool slightly before blending.

Using a blender, process the soup in batches until smooth (or use a stick blender). Reheat and season the soup to taste. Makes 8 servings (or freeze half for later).

Source: Adapted from The Dinnertime Survival Cookbook by Debra Ponzek and Mary Goodbody

Local Ingredients:
Zucchini, carrots: Waltham Fields Community Farm, Waltham, MA
Onion: School garden, Waltham, MA
Butter: Cabot, Cabot, VT
Cream: High Lawn Farm, Lee, MA

Indian Cauliflower and Potatoes

Here's another Indian vegetable recipe we make a lot, and one of my faaaavorite ways to eat cauliflower. I posted about this six years ago, but there was no photo and little in the way of a charming introduction. At least now there's a photo!


Indian Cauliflower and Potatoes (Aloo Gobi) (print-friendly version)

Again, use your discretion with the cayenne. Add more if you like things spicy, or scale it back to a pinch if you're scared.

2 to 3 medium potatoes
1 medium cauliflower
3 Tbsp. canola oil
1 onion, chopped
1 tsp. cumin seeds
1 1/2 tsp. ground cumin
1/2 tsp. ground coriander
1/2 tsp. ground turmeric
1/8 tsp. ground cayenne
1 tsp. salt
Black pepper

Boil the potatoes in their jackets until tender when pierced with a knife. Cut the cauliflower into florets about 1½-inches wide. Soak them in a bowl of water for 30 minutes.  Drain.

Peel the potatoes and cut them into ¾-inch dice. In a large, non-stick frying pan, heat the oil over medium heat. Fry the onion until translucent, stirring occasionally, 4 to 5 minutes. Stir in the cumin seeds and sauté for about a minute. Add the cauliflower and stir until it starts to brown in spots, about 5 minutes. Cover, turn the heat to low, and simmer until cauliflower is almost done, but still has a bit of crispness (8 to 12 minutes). Add the diced potatoes and the rest of the spices, and gently stir. Cook uncovered over low heat until potatoes are heated through, about 5 minutes more.

Source: Adapted from Illustrated Indian Cookery by Madhur Jaffrey

Stir-Fried Indian Cabbage

When I went through and categorized all of the recipes on this site a few months ago, I was shocked—shocked, I say—to discover that the Indian category was so empty. I mean, we're not having Indian food every night, but there are definitely a few dishes that come up over and over in the rotation (if you can call my whim-based menu-planning a rotation). Vikram Vij's goat curry is one I want to post about in the cooler months because it is completely unbelievable, as well as a variation on Madhur Jaffrey's lamb korma, another personal favorite.

But today we're talking about cabbage. Because sometimes I get sick of coleslaw. Sometimes I just want something different, and the only way to make any serious headway through the piles and piles of shredded cabbage is to cook it down quickly with garlic and Indian spices until it's so fricking delicious, you just eat it like candy. And I haven't even gotten to the health benefits, which include, but are not limited to, cancer prevention and inflammation reduction. But that's not really why I eat it. I eat it because it's delicious. The rest is a perk.

This dish only takes 5 minutes on the range so it won't heat up the house too much. Serve it with chana masala (chick pea curry) with brown or basmati rice, and you've got yourself a meal!

Stir-Fried Indian Cabbage (print-friendly version)

Adjust the cayenne to your liking. The original recipe called for something like 1/2 teaspoon of cayenne, but that's too much for me, never mind the kids. But do put in at least a pinch.

2 Tbsp. canola oil
1/2 tsp. mustard seeds
1/2 tsp. ground turmeric
1 lb. green cabbage, thinly sliced (about 1/2 head)
2 garlic cloves, peeled, smashed with the side of a knife
1 teaspoon salt
1/8 tsp. ground cayenne

Heat the oil in a large frying pan or wok over high heat. When super-hot, add the mustard seeds and cover with a splatter screen or lid to keep the seeds from flying out. When the seeds stop sputtering, add the turmeric, cabbage, garlic, salt, and cayenne. Toss well. Stir-fry until the cabbage is crisp-tender, 2 to 3 minutes.

Source: Adapted from 5 Spices, 50 Dishes by Ruta Kahate.

Local Ingredients:
Cabbage, garlic: Waltham Fields Community Farm, Waltham, MA

Curried Chicken Salad

One of my lasting memories of Nonni is of her standing at the kitchen counter after a roast chicken dinner and pulling every last shred of meat off the bones.  The chicken would then find its way into soup or whatever else she pleased.

Her depression-era tactics have served me well.  On these warmer days, I like to use the scavenged meat in a quick curried chicken salad.  If I'm diligent, I can get enough meat for 2 to 4 sandwiches before I freeze the stripped carcass for soup stock.  That's three separate and substantial meals from a single chicken, if anyone is keeping count.  Nonni would approve.

Curried Chicken Salad

If you don't like raisins, you can substitute chopped grapes, but I'm partial to the raisin version. 

2 cups cooked chicken, chopped
1/2 onion, finely chopped
Handful or two of raisins
1/2 cup mayo
1 Tbsp. dijon mustard
1 Tbsp. curry powder (or more)
Salt and pepper

In a medium bowl, combine chicken, onion, and raisins.  Make a well in the ingredients and stir together mayo, mustard, curry powder, and plenty of salt and pepper.  Mix everything together well.  Heap into your favorite sandwich configuration.

Masala Fried Chicken

So, what do you think?  Is it time for another chicken recipe?  I think it’s time for another chicken recipe.

I know you liked the last one I did: lemon balsamic chicken.  Saveur did, too.  But that was a while ago, so here’s another chicken dish from that same cookbook, American Masala.  It’s fried chicken, but with an Indian twist.  Take your basic Southern fried chicken recipe and replace the basil, thyme, and sage (or whatever herbs you use) with coriander, turmeric, and garam masala.  This is a good example of how just a sprinkling of a few well-chosen spices can change the character of a dish entirely.  The rest of the technique is exactly the same.

I get the most succulent chickens from Chestnut Farms out in Hardwick, MA.  They don’t need any sort of brine to be tender and juicy, but I’m including the brine recipe anyway.  It’s simple enough and certainly doesn’t hurt anything.  Serve your fried chicken with aloo gobi (Indian cauliflower and potatoes) and garlicky greens, and you’ve got yourself a great meal.

 

Masala Fried Chicken

The cinnamon notes in garam masala seem to appeal to children, so if you want to entice your kids to eat chicken on the bone, this is a good contender.  Just ease up on the cayenne a bit if they’re not used to spice.

Brine
3 cups buttermilk
¼ kosher salt
2 Tbsp. sugar
1½ tsp. garam masala
1 tsp. ground coriander
1 tsp. ground peppercorns
½ tsp. ground ginger
½ tsp. paprika
¼ tsp. cayenne pepper

Batter and Fry
1 chicken (4 lbs.), cut into 8 serving pieces, or 2-3 lbs. of drumsticks, thighs, wings
Canola oil, for frying
2 cups all-purpose flour
2 tsp. ground coriander
2 tsp. garam masala
2 tsp. ground peppercorns
1 tsp. turmeric
½ tsp. kosher salt
¼ tsp. cayenne pepper

For the brine, mix buttermilk with the eight spices in a large bowl.  Add the chicken and turn to coat.  Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate overnight, or as many hours as you can spare.

Heat an inch of canola oil in a large, heavy-bottomed skillet over medium-high heat.  In a pie plate, whisk together the flour and remaining spices.  Add the brined chicken and turn to coat.  If you’re not brining, you can dip the chicken pieces in a little buttermilk or egg, even yogurt, before coating with flour.  Let the chicken pieces rest in the flour while the oil finishes heating to 375°F.  That’s the secret to a crunchy, flaky crust—gluten.  Shake off any excess flour then fry in batches until browned 5-8 minutes.  Don’t crowd the pan or the oil temperature will drop and the batter will absorb too much oil.  In short, you’ll be disappointed.  Turn the chicken over and fry until browned on the other side, 5-8 minutes.  Transfer chicken to paper towels to drain.  Enjoy.

Source: Adapted from American Masala by Suvir Saran and Raquel Pelzel.

Of Chickens and Morons

I used to think that the people who swarm to the grocery store at the first mention of snow were morons.  Can’t you live without your Ho Ho’s for a mere 24 hours?  Don’t you have a few cans of tuna fish somewhere? 

But I was wrong.  There is a worse kind of moron.  The sort of moron that knows we’re running low on milk, bread, feminine products, etc. a week before the snow is set to hit, and, still, no trips to the grocery store are made.  And when that special brand of New England slush starts falling from the sky, fusing itself to every possible surface, and then freezing solid so you’re encased in your own personal life-sized snow globe prison, well by then I’m too much of a wuss to fishtail my way to the moron store to stock up on all the moronic products that, apparently, only morons don’t have.

So, that’s how I found myself with nothing even remotely delicious in the house, trying to concoct dinner from the slim pickings I had in the pantry.  Rice.  Coconut milk.  Pumpkin pie filling.  Except that I can’t touch the pumpkin pie filling or an irate engineer will spontaneously crash through the ceiling with a ridiculous but fierce display of Kung Fu-ish flailing.  You can’t mess with the man’s pumpkin pie ingredients.

The refrigerator was completely empty.  We had finished off the condiments during our afternoon snack.  In the freezer, there were all kinds of mysterious things, but all I could immediately recognize were: 1) a lone freezer-burned chicken breast, and 2) a million kinds of stock.  So, what can you make with rice, coconut milk, chicken, and how about duck stock? 

Chicken Mulligatawny

1 Tbsp. canola oil
1 yellow onion, diced
2 stalks celery, diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
1½ Sambhar curry powder
½ tsp. ground cumin
½ tsp. ground coriander
½ tsp. ground ginger
6 cups homemade yummy poultry stock of your choice
½ cup basmati rice
1 large chicken breast, cut into bite-sized pieces
1 cup coconut milk
1 Tbsp. lemon juice
¼ tsp. salt
¼ tsp. pepper
3 Tbsp. toasted, sliced almonds, optional

Heat oil in a large pot over medium-high heat.  Add onion, celery, and garlic, and cook, stirring often, until softened, about 5 minutes.  Add curry powder, cumin, coriander, and ginger, and cook a minute or two.  Add the stock and rice.  Bring to a boil, reduce to a simmer, and cook uncovered for 12 minutes.

Add chicken, return to a simmer, and cook until chicken is done and rice is tender, about 8-10 minutes more.  Stir in coconut milk and return to a simmer.  Remove from heat, and stir in lemon juice, salt, and pepper.  Garnish with almonds, unless you’re a moron.

Source: Adapted from Eating Well.  The original recipe called for 2 diced Granny Smith apples, but the moron didn’t have any apples.  Plus, she wasn’t so sure about apples in her Mulligatawny.  So, instead, she decided to use full-fat coconut milk in place of the “lite” coconut milk originally listed in the recipe, and just call it even.