Dahiwali Chicken Curry

When it comes to simple everyday meals, I find it hard to succumb myself to the traditional Indian daily routine of ‘Dal-Sabzi’, translated, simply meaning a lentil and vegetable preparation. A simple Indian lunch would mainly consist of a lentil and a side of some vegetable, cooked in different variations everyday. These are then relished with warm rotis, rice, a dollop of pickle, and some fresh yoghurt. For me, a meal like this often finds it’s way to my dinner table once every 10 days. The rest of the week however, I prefer finding ways of simplifying indulgent favourites to treat my ever-so-demanding palate.

Often, when I talk to people on the topic of curries, the most common concern I get confronted with is the amount of time, and not to mention effort that comes with it. I for one, beg to differ. For me, a curry is nothing but a smooth blend of flavours brought together to highlight a star ingredient. True, you can spend hours toasting, pounding, and grinding spices to form the smoothest of pastes; you can spend days marinating and chopping to achieve the most delicate blend possible; and you can also lose yourself in a cloud of spices and herbs that would fill your kitchen and your home with an aroma almost so ambrosial, you would think you woke up in a foreign land. But then again, you could do what I do on days when all I have at my disposal are a few measly minutes at the brink of lunch-time with a rumbling tummy to cater to.

As I see it, curries are not something one should be afraid of. Neither are they something to look at with such cynicism or vengeance. A curry is a curry, and like any other can be easily tamed to suit ones tastes and preferences. I like mine to be quick and robust with flavour, and I don’t stop till I find my way with it.

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Chicken & Bean Coconut Stew

… I make stew!

There are only so many days in the dreaded Canadian winter when the white blanket of snow is lovingly caressed by the intense warmth of the sun’s rays. It is often on days like these, which if unestimatedly fall on a weekend like today, that all I wish to do is have endless cups of hot cocoa and surround myself with the many sections of the bulky weekend newspaper. It is also on days like these, where I bitterly sulk over Hubby Dear’s absence due to his frequent business trips. And that too just a day after returning from our fabulous vacation filled with sun, sand and laughter. Need I add how much I miss him already? And it’s just been a measly few hours since we bid adieu!

While my appetite tends to take a downward stroll while Hubby Dear is away, I still can’t quite refrain from spending most of my time in my kitchen. The time spent in prepping, visualizing and finally creating the meal is what enables me to unwind and reflect on my thoughts. I love listening to the sharp crunches from chopping an onion, the sizzling of chopped garlic in hot oil, or the whistles of the pressure cooker; each of which can be easily substituted for any form of melody in my mind.

By allowing myself to sleep in today, and waking up to a wonderfully warm sunny afternoon, the idea of a lunch that would summon me to stand over a hot stove didn’t quite make an inviting prospect. But good food on a day like this was something I was desperately craving for. So I took the slow and easy way out. The thought of having my lunch slowly simmer on the stove was tempting enough to compel me to get my lazy self into the kitchen and prep for it. And that’s all I needed to do. The rest as they say, will take care of itself!

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Pepper Chicken

There are certain times in a year when all I want to do is nothing more than cuddle up with a great book and nibble on some extra-spicy food. Throw in a few cold winds my way, and the mood is set. With Hubby Dear out on one of his business tours, leaving me all alone to face the dilemma of what to pack for our upcoming tropical vacation, I was definitely in the need for some spiced up comfort.

While I successfully managed to pick certain favourites from my existing wardrobe, and shopped for what I deemed as must-haves for a holiday by the beach, I was still to face the toughest part - fitting it all into one lousy teeny-tiny suitcase. Okay, so maybe it’s not all that teeny-tiny, but it’s still too small for the 27 various outfit combinations I solemnly swear I need for the 7-day trip. And that’s not including all the coordinating shoes and accessories! Well, what can I say, I like to travel Bollywood style.

I suddenly realized as I emerged from the pile of clothes I was almost buried under, that I had spent the last four hours rummaging through my closet, getting all my “to-pack” things in order. Long past my regular lunch time, it had just occured to me how hungry I actually was. So I lazily stolled into my kitchen with no inspiration what-so-ever. Then, as if something called out to me, I recalled how I had left some chicken to defrost the night before. Okay, so I had chicken on my mind. What to do with it, I still had no idea.

And then I just began to play. A slight variation to this classic favourite, this recipe can leave you sprinting to the nearest bottle of cold water. But nonetheless, it’s a perfect call for a cold late winter afternoon. So ahead, don’t be afreaid, definitely give it a try. But then don’t go about saying I didn’t warn you!

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Mint Chocolate Chip Cookies

… before I flood the town with cookies!Okay, so I have a disease. When I like something, and I mean, really like it, I tend to go overboard. Yes, as in waaaay overboard!So, the past few days have kept me busy with regular trips to the kitchen store to load up on parchment paper, pastry brushes, whisks of all sizes and most importantly, cookie jars!

I guess you could say I’ve caught the cookie-baking bug. I’ve been baking non-stop for the past four days, churning out tray after tray of the most delicious, chewy, melt-in-you-mouth goodies I’d have never even imagined possible by someone who doesn’t really like to bake per se.

The journey so far has been fun, and for the most part, enlightening. I figured out many short-cuts, some easy and simple substitutions, and learnt quite a few lessons the hard way over some not-so-delightful looking treats that filled my home with the whiff of burning plastic! Yes, it’s been an insightful few days, and nothing that I’d regret. Infact, I think it’s going on great and I still have the will to try out a few more of Hubby’s picks from a cookie bible I bought not so very long ago.

With my Christmas shopping all taken care of, gifts duly wrapped, labeled and strategically placed under the tree, and the home looking it’s absolute best in all Holiday slendour, I can’t help but wait to wake up on Christmas morning to the smell of fresh brewing coffee and a platter of home-made baked treats. Yes, nothing can quite beat that feeling, except, of course knowing that mine is the biggest gift under the tree this year. Now, if only I knew what it was!

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With the temperatures decreasing at a considerably ridiculous rate, I find myself constantly looking for something warm enough to melt my insides. Now these are not one of those simple craving of comfort that could easily be taken care of by a steaming cup of rich hot chocolate or some spiced infused tea. No sir, these longings call for something more that compels me to take the extra tiny step further.

When I think of soups, my mind always seek the ones filled with lots of vegetables and other bites of goodness like dumplings or bits of meat floating in a light flavourful broth. Seldom ever do I desire one that is thick and rich, and made with dashes of cream. Infact, to be honest, I almost never do. You see, for me, soups are best when they come in a clear broth, and that’s eactly always the way I prefer to make them.

I’ve been having a hard time the past few weeks what with being buried in reports and deadlines. With all that finally taken care of and set aside, I was happy to find some quite time in my kitchen on this cold friday evening. With a few hours to spare before Hubby Dear came home, I had enough of time and a lot of energy to make a big pot bubbling with the most fragrant and aromatic flavours that would warm up our home and give me the comfort I so needed.

A few hours later we were nestled on the couch infront of the TV with a big bowl as we slurped and cuddled, of course all warm and cosy together!

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There comes a time a in a girl’s culinary life when she just has to take the plunge. Being the neurotic cook that I am, I am too stubborn to give up on a recipe once I’ve decided to take that plunge.

When I look back at the special meals we shared on festive holidays, one dish that is always fondly remembered is Satay. Satay is a Malaysian version of the kabab. Skewered pieces of meat are marinated in aromatic flavours and grilled to perfection. The highlight of this dish however, is the spicy peanut dipping sauce.

For those of you who know me, also know that I’ll go to pretty much any lenght to duplicate my favourite flavours but at the same time, struggle to create a much easier and simpler version of the recipe in question. Conquering the Satay was one such daunting task. Never having been witness to its cooking process, all I had to help me with were the familiar flavours and a bunch of off-the-web recipes. The taste was still fresh in my mind, the recipes on the other hand, I winced at. Some I thought had wierd ingredients, most others, had those which I had never heard or seen, let alone be able to find around me.

So, as always, I turned to my ever-growing spice cupboard, and most importantly intuition. They say, a woman has a sixth sense when it comes to just knowing things, something of a hunch. I’m happy to note that mine often gives me the answers I seek. Re-creating the Satay was a breeze. What hurt my back though, was the peanut sauce. Until I threw caution to the wind and just followed my instinct. Works every time!

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Let me make a confession. I am not a baker. I am not into baking, nor do I enjoy the tiresome process of folding one part of the batter into the other. Infact, the closest step I take to baking is opening a pre-packaged box of cake mix, breaking an egg or two into it as per the instructions, a spash of water as needed, and popping it into a warm oven.

Except until I decided to throw down my shield and create this. It was simple, quick and easy - not something I can easily relate to with baking. And so today, once more, I thought of doing the unmentioned. I decided to create a recipe that wouldn’t drive me away from the oven, but instead, could be my run-to solution for a quick remedy to those sugar pangs.

For the past one week, I’ve been craving chocolate. Not just any chocolate, but those sinfuly, rich, dark, delicious, melt-in-your-mouth-rest-on-your-hips decadent chocolate cakes. And it didn’t help that all the food magazines I subscribe to (yes, all 10 of them!) were filled with the most drool enhancing photographs of chocolatey holiday treats.

Looking puppy-eyed and battling my eye lids to Hubby didn’t work either. He refused to buy me a 12-inch cake to eat all by myself (locked in a room, gorging on it with my bare hands and having cream all over my face and hands, just like in my most secret chocolate fantasy!). So I had no choice but to experiment, and that I sure did. I studied over a dozen recipes, worked out the necessary ingredients, altered the measurements and of course, simplified the process.

As I sat down and took the first bite of the warm cake, I was taken to a place I had since long yearned to go. I suggest induling in the sin fresh from the oven. The soft chocolate chips in their almost liquified form, gives the cakes a warm gooey goodness. almost to the likes of a molten chocolate interior.

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Whoever invented the ever-so-rich-finger-lickin’-melt-in-your-mouth delicious Butter Chicken, truly did not take my whims and fancies into consideration! Let me explain…

I never enjoyed eating Butter Chicken. Yes, you heard me right, and no, I’m not kidding! Whenever I refuse to order this age-old dish at any restaurant, people didning at my table often look at me like I’m from out of space. But it’s true, I do not enjoy this dish that is considered to be the epitome of the Indian cuisine. Infact, I think it is way too rich to my liking, if I may say so.

Though Hubby Dear has been seen wiping his plate clean of this dish whenever he gets the (good) fortune to dip into it, being the sweetheart that he is, has not once asked me to cook it at home. You see, I hate cooking with cream and/or milk. There’s something about adding cream/milk to my food that makes me look at it with such torment. While I happily add dollops of cream to make my own chocolate desserts, adding it to my actual meal gives me the jitters. So clearly, Butter Chicken, which is as rich as the amount of cream and/or milk added to it, steered clear from my palate.

Until today that is. I woke up this morning with my mind made. I was going to invent a rich Chicken Curry, and cream would be nowhere near the picture!

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I can never stress enough how quick and simple meals are important in my household. Though we love our slow-cooking wonders over the weekends, we often come home during the week with little less than just a craving of good food, with no energy what so ever to deal with it’s creation.

Call me crazy but even scramble eggs can be made to look elegant by me. Yes, I have a sickness. I’m somehow very uncomfortable with the fact of showing off simple food just the way it is. When Hubby Dear comes home each evening to a table laden with the best of flavours on a platter, he often thinks that I’ve slaved over the hot stove for hours. I always smile a cunning smile, because even though my food looks and tastes like it’s been simmering for hours, only my stove knows how long it’s actually been running to bring our dinner from pot to plate.

I always glorify myself in the thought of having made a splendid meal that looks like I’ve spent half my life over. But I know how much I resent having to actually make a slow-cooked meal from scratch! I can’t even remember the last time I made my own stock.

A couple of days ago, when we were having our usual “something different for dinner” mood swing, it only seemed reasonable to make something out of the ordinary. Elegant, yes. Simple, definitely!

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It’s funny how the palette knows of season change even before the mind is ready and willing to accept it. A week ago, I found myself craving for soup. No matter how much I tried talking myself out of it, it only grew stronger. Suddenly visions of warm spicy curry drowned rice began dancing in front of my eyes.

Growing up, I remember coming home to the warm comforting aroma of Mom’s chicken soup simmering on the stove on cold winter evenings. She would throw in a variety of vegetables and serve ladles of it over warm rice. It was a sure shot way to melt away the frozen senses.

The minute I walk in from the wet cold air outside, I can’t help but be overcome with a calmness that’s only characteristic of ambience in my home. As I stroll into my kitchen and look at my stove, as if waiting for some kind of sign for tonight’s dinner, I picture Mom pouring ladles full of warm hearty soup in big bowls around the dining table. That was it then, it had to be done. That was the sign and there would be no ignoring it. We were having soup, that would be hearty enough to double up as curry. I set out my ingredients and got to work.

A couple of minutes later as Hubby Dear walked in through the door, he was greeted with a warm aroma floating in the air. And I couldn’t help but notice the smirk on his face when he walked into the kitchen and saw a big pot of hearty goodness simmering on the stove.

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