Curried Cauliflower Fritters with Parsley and Lemon Juice

When it comes to cauliflower, I am always torn. Cauliflower always presents itself as a paradox of sorts. From the way it smells to the way it looks to what I expect it to taste like–all scenarios, without fail, result in unexpected satisfaction and enjoyment. I liken the experience salad-making. My self-assembled salad never tastes as good as one prepared for me by someone else. Aloo gobi via Bombay Grill (local Indian spot) is infinitely better than the one I made at home.

My Hamlet moment came when I was at the farmer’s market and was presented with the most anatomically correct cauliflower with a delicate, beautiful green stem. “To cook, or not to cook…” The question loomed. Luckily, I was only contemplating Monday night dinner and not death, so I bought it. Life is all about trials and tribulations anyway. And by trials and tribulations, I mean “possibly vomit-inducing foods”.

And as usual, Jamie Oliver comes to the rescue. I scoured his books/website for the perfect recipe, one out of left-field that wouldn’t completely disguise the cauliflower’s flavor and texture. After all, this little guy was farmer’s market-fresh!

His curried cauliflower fritters recipe jumped out at me. My spice cabinet is rampant with Indian spices, and this dish called for black mustard seeds, whole cumin seeds, and turmeric. This was also a great opportunity for me to test out my new mortar and pestle! Nerd alert!


Me and my roommates spice cabinet, after our journey through the Spice Route

The batter was incredibly easy to whip up. The infusion of beer and flour reminded me of the beer-battered fish I made for tacos one night. With the addition of spices however, this version had way more depth and character. Side note: I think I may try this batter out with fish and tofu next time.

Deep-frying the cauliflower was probably the only tedious part. Tip: Get a spider, those brass mesh skimmers popularized by Chinese cooks. It will take the load off of lifting deep-fried foods out of blistering hot oil. Yes, I said, “blistering”. Mind the hot oil, people.

Anyway, I was really satisfied with the results. Shockingly enough, the cauliflower as prepared by moi, tasted good. No, not just good. Delicious! With a bottle of Duvel and some squirts of lemon, the pub-friendly cauliflower fritters were just the thing to have on a Monday night–in front of the TV of course.


When I see this photo, Michael Jackson’s “Gonna Be Startin’ Something” comes to mind.


Up close and personal (and spicy!).


I may have to just use this as a stock photo for recipes involving cake/pancake batter or custard.


Screw Monday night yoga classes. Here’s to my current “work hard, play hard” mentality.

RECIPE

•1 cauliflower
•flour, for dusting
• vegetable oil
• optional: a small piece of potato, peeled
• a small bunch of fresh flat-leaf parsley, leaves picked
• sea salt
• 1 lemon

for the batter
• 1 teaspoon cumin seeds
• 2 teaspoons black mustard seeds
• 2–3 dried red chillies
• 1 teaspoon black peppercorns
• 200g self-raising flour
• ½ teaspoon turmeric
• 350ml cold beer
• sea salt

Trim the bottom off the stalk and break the cauliflower into bite-sized florets. Slice up the stalk into 2cm pieces – this way it will all cook at the same rate. Wash the cauliflower, drain it and pat dry with kitchen paper. Place the cauliflower pieces in a bowl and dust with a little flour.

Pour the oil into a deep saucepan – you want it to be about 10–12cm deep – and heat it to 180°C. If you don’t have a thermometer don't worry, just drop a piece of potato into the oil. When it floats to the surface and starts to sizzle, the oil will be at the right temperature so remove the potato from the pan.

Shake any excess flour off the cauliflower. One by one, dip the pieces into the beer batter, then carefully place them in the hot oil, moving them away from you as you do so. Make sure you stand back so you don’t get splashed. It’s best to fry them in batches so you don’t overcrowd the pan (but serve them as soon as each batch is ready). Each time a batch of cauliflower is nearly ready, add some battered parsley leaves to the pan and fry for 40 seconds (you want to serve them scattered over the fritters). Fry the pieces gently, turning them a couple of times with a slotted spoon. When they’re browned and crisp, lift them out of the oil, allowing any excess to drip back into the pan, and drain on kitchen paper. Dust with sea salt and squeeze over a little lemon juice.

A meal fit for the Taj Mahal. Sort of. Chicken Tikka Masala, Aloo Gobhi, Stacey’s stove top rice and purchased naan.

I’m a creature of habit. Once I find a recipe I like, I often stick with it, to a T. Then, when I feel totally comfortable, I might start doctoring it up with my own tweaks. I’ll also eat or make a winning dish a couple of days in a row. Sucks to be my kid.

With that caveat in mind, my account of a somewhat unsuccessful Jamie experience will make more sense.

Since I’m a tikka masala newbie (see previous posts), I decided it was necessary to restrict myself to what Jamie instructs in the recipe. There was that coconut milk addition that I was a bit wary of since most tikka masalas I have had were made sans coconut milk. And, there was a serving of water used in the dish that just seemed odd. With coconut milk in the mix, another “can” of water seemed like a superfluous amount of liquid. But, Indian cooking isn’t instinctual for me, so I erred in second-guessing myself. It didn’t help that I was chatting it up with Stacey while supposedly cooking in earnest.

The whole over-submerging the meat in liquid was pretty much the theme of the night. Everything smelled great: the onions sautéed with the meat browned ever so slightly, the homemade tikka masala paste was flavorful, though not as spicy as I would like. Next time when I do this, I will probably use “REAL” chilies, and not the red jalapenos I get from Whole Foods. Those are terribly weak-sauce.

I kept the tikka masala cooking for a pretty long time, but it didn’t reduce much. It felt a bit like tikka masala-soup and the heavy salting I did in the sautéing part felt null and void with all that water and coconut juice. When we “ladled” it over our rice, the watery particles took over the plate, which is nice if you like that sort of thing. I would have preferred something a little drier. All in all, with a little more salt to pass and lemon juice, the food tasted good. That store-bought naan really gave me the gut-bust though. I could barely move after the meal. I guess the beer didn’t help either!

Sidenote: I’m also a creature of perfectionism so due to my dissatisfaction with the turn-out, I will probably revisit this recipe. Sorry Jamie- hope I didn’t let ya down.


Chilies, spices, home-made tikka masala paste getting a good sauté.


It’s rare that I get an action shot in the mix. Thanks Stacey.


Berkeley looking for eats, and looking real cute while doing it.


While I didn’t make my own naan, the one I bought from India’s Sweet & Spices tastes homemade. It had the most incredible chew and was slightly sweet.


Devin, Stacey, and I are just tearing our food apart. The Taj Mahal beer in the back paired nicely with the food.

COOKED FROM



SHOPPED AT
New India's Sweets and Spices
1245 S Fairfax Ave
Los Angeles, CA 90019-4437
(323) 936-6736

Aloo Gobhi on its way to the oven for some quick braising. The cauliflower and potatoes have to get soft, but still firm to bite.

Before I continue my long-winded story of how the Chicken Tikka Masala came to fruition, I’d like to discuss the Aloo Gobhi that was also whipped up the same night. Initially I was hesitant to try my hand at not one but TWO unfamiliar recipes on a school night. But what better way to challenge myself than to cook an Indian feast in someone else’s kitchen?

And a challenge it was. Aloo Gobi is one of my favorite things to eat. It’s filling, flavorful, and the bright yellow hue (thanks to the turmeric) is mesmerizing. I’ve had the “pleasure” of getting this yellow hue on my white pants. But no pain, no gain right? Jamie’s recipe for Aloo Gobi looked easy enough; throw some cauliflower and potatoes together with some spices and ginger, and there you have it–a delicious vegetarian-friendly dish. I was especially excited about the lemon that gets juiced over before serving. Nothing like a little acid to complete a dish.

The only thing that threw me off about this dish was the shredded coconut that gets added. From my research online, here and here, coconut doesn’t usually make any appearances in this dish. So with some more sleuthing, I found out that Anglo-Indian cuisine is it’s own culinary category. Apparently, almonds and coconut are often added to Indian food in the UK.

Would this be like dipping my French fries in Ranch dressing?



I felt like the “Take Home Chef”, packing all my spices to go.


Farmer’s market-fresh cauliflower.


Trader Joe’s-fresh potatoes; I decided to throw in a purple one for some color.


Like with most Indian dishes, the spices get cooked until fragrant. In mandarin, this is what is called “Bao Xiang”, or frangrance + explosion.

COOKED FROM

Tikka Masala Paste

Here in Los Angeles, what’s considered good Indian food is often a shadow of what it could be. The curries are never rich enough, the tikka masala is always too sweet, the dosa tastes like soda crackers, and the list continues. I’m always picking up on the flimsiness in flavor, texture, and even color. And though I’ve never been to India, I have been to England and my taste buds don’t lie. Indian food in England is top notch. I was especially excited about the Anglo-Indian stuff–roast beef rogan josh with a side of Yorkshire pudding anyone? The best part is, Indian food that I ate frequently in London was astonishingly affordable. A student’s budget and the embarrassing exchange rate interfered with my aspirations to live and eat (and commute) lavishly. But Indian food (along with Sainsbury, fish & chips-joints) saved me from malnutrition.

When my time in England was up, so endeth my Indian food indulgence. Then it was back to LA and all the subpar Indian restaurants. While there are some decent places around town, I’d much rather drive to Artesia or even Berkeley, to satiate my cravings. Yes. I have done that before.

Jamie has published several Indian recipes. I was getting a little tired of the olive oil + red chiles + lemon + mint, so I decided to venture into some cross-cultural experimentation. In Jamie’s Food Revolution, there is a chicken tikka masala recipe that looked doable for a weeknight. There’s also an accompanying recipe for tikka masala paste, which has become part 1 of my Jamie’s Indian installment. Rather than scoop the greasy stuff from a jar of Patak’s, I wanted to control the spice level of my dish. And, I never turn down the opportunity to get a little crazy with the mortar and pestle. I live watching things pulp.

Indian dishes are heavy on spices. I love the flavor bombs in my mouth. I stopped by a local Indian market to pick up a few spices that I needed. The store always overwhelms me into buying spices that “I might need in the future”. SIDENOTE: I prefer buying spices at ethnic food shops or Asian and Latin markets. You get more for your money. Cardamom pods at an Indian market will cost you about $4.99 for a medium-sized bag. Chai or mango lassi for days!!!

The first thing I did was toast the coriander seeds and fennel seeds. What I got was a brilliant savory scent that reminded me of Persian grilled meat. Then I combined the toasted spices with other ground spices, fresh minced garlic, chiles, and ginger together with a dash of tomato paste and oil. My kitchen started to smell like the Indian market did, which was a good sign!

As soon as it looked ready, I packed it up to be used at my friend Stacey’s house, which is a whole other chapter filled will culinary trials and tribulations. Stay tuned!


Indian spices from a local purveyor. Whenever I see this picture, I think, “damn, that’s a lot of Tikka Masala Paste.”


Up-close and personal with coriander seeds and fennel seeds for the visually-impaired


Toasted and ready to be pulverized


Easiest way to peel ginger is with a spoon. No more emergency room visits and bloody chopping boards.


Being organized in the kitchen is gratifying. Ok, who am I kidding, I do it for the photo op.

Tikka Masala Paste
2 cloves garlic
thumb-sized pieces of fresh ginger
1 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1 tablespoon smoked paprika
2 teaspoons garam masala
½ teaspoon sea salt
2 tablespoons peanut oil
2 tablespoons tomato paste
2 fresh red chiles
small bunch of fresh cilantro
1 tablespoon unsweetened shredded coconut
2 tablespoons almond flour
Spices for Toasting: 1 tsp cumin seeds and 1 tsp coriander seeds, toasted on dry pan over medium or high heat until golden brown and smelling delicious.

Peel ginger and garlic and mince. Combine with toasted spices, spices, and grind until fine or whiz in a food processor until you have a smooth paste.