Showing posts with label Mortar and Pestle. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mortar and Pestle. Show all posts

25.6.09

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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!

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

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

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Toasted and ready to be pulverized

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

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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.

16.6.09

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A lovely pork chop with bay salt, cracklings, and squashed potatoes. And reconstituted asparagus soup (formerly, very frozen).

After work, I have to compulsively remind myself that this project is meaningful and worth the laborious crafting of 1,000 mental grocery lists. You see, cooking every night kind of blows. Scratch that. Cleaning up after myself in the kitchen blows more. Regardless of the loathsome soaping and scrubbing, jamieallweek has allowed me to mature as a cook. A sprig of mint or squeeze of lemon here and there has become instinctual! I used to avoid mint and lemon because the two are decidedly very intense ingredients. But I’ve learned that a little goes a long way. The two, when combined, really brighten up protein and vegetable dishes. Yes, yes, I am patting myself on the back right now.

This project has livened up my tastebuds. Jamie is adamant about using herbs in his food. I grew up on Sichuan-style cooking, and herbs never appeared in my diet (though I ate plenty of chilies, which my mom swears, stunted my growth). It’s fun experimenting with all the stems of greenstuff growing in my friends’ backyards (or in the produce section of Trader Joes). This is precisely why I decided to cook from Jamie’s best pork chops recipe. The pork chops are seasoned with a ground bay leaf-fennel seed-salt concoction. Served alongside are “squashed” purple potatoes (I only had new) and a hard cider-mustard reduction (I only had apple cider vinegar). It’s not real-life cooking without the monkey wrenches!

The rub was to be prepared in a mortar & pestle. Who knew an antiquated tool that my grandparents used during the Cultural Revolution, would still be relevant. Even in the time of food processors and the “bullet” (infomercial reference), it’s the easiest way to granulate large unmanageable particles. It’s an effortless way to muddle Thai bird chilies without being dangerously close to them (and then rubbing your eyes with the infected fingers, like I did once). Monkey wrench: All of the herbs I used in the “paste” were dried. So, using my common sense, I added a drop of olive oil. Hooray for paste!

Fluke #2: With no hard cider on hand (thanks anyway Ben, I know you scoured the aisles!) and only apple cider vinegar to work with, the acerbic djion and vinegar combination would have pickled the pork. Kristina (guest #2) suggested sweetening up the sauce with some honey. Honey did the trick. The Sauce à la Moutarde-and-um-honey added a sprightly kick to the herby chop. With thyme/porkfat-roasted potatoes and wilted spinach alongside, the impressive pork chop-dinner was a success. And this is what I mean about becoming a better cook: Figuring out how to maneuver through difficult, unfamiliar terrains without completely derailing. Now, how do I incorporate that in other areas of my life?

Sidenote: I’m lucky to have such thoughtful dinner guests. Amy brought cupcakes and bounty from her herb garden. Ben brought his own pork chop and potatoes and the vinegar I used to test my situational adaptability. And Kristina baked delicious filled cookies that she just drummed up the day of.


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Fennel seed, bay leaves, and salt working hard at becoming paste.

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Roasted new potatoes with pork fat resting atop.

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Two average pork chops hanging out with a fancy one. Long story.

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Krim’s really delicious homemade blueberry jam- and habanero chocolate-filled cookies.

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El fin.