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Tuesday, September 24, 2013

Thai Panang Curry - As if There Was Another Kind of Panang Curry

Sorry about the overuse of adjectives in the headline there, but since there's a pretty significant difference in style between the South Asian curries and most of the Southeast Asian Curries, I thought I'd clarify to make things easier on everyone.

For reference: Indian, Sri Lankan and Pakistani curries are often a bit thicker with almost a gravy-like consistency and frequently have tomato or onion based sauces. They can have meat, vegetables, fish, or cheese, and are flavored with a variety of spices depending on the region. Your typical example here is tikka masala, which (fun fact) was originally made with Campbell's tomato soup as a base. Gross huh?

 I imagine that tikka masala is the big pot that all of the restaurant workers spit in out of disgust for the customers who order it. I think that every member of the food service industry hates one or two things on the menu and despise those who order them by extension. As a barrista at Borders, I would plead with people not to order the soup, which was often days old and not fit for consumption by thoughtful animals. If they insisted, I would punish them by giving them an extra large helping.

Southeastern Asian curries, on the other hand, are lighter, thinner, filled with vegetables and herbs and are usually based primarily around coconut milk. Thai, Filipino and Vietnamese curries fit into this category. The spicing for these curries is also usually a bit milder, though you can always add more interesting flavors if you feel the curry is lacking. Whereas an Indian curry powder might contain 15 ingredients, a Thai curry might only have two or three powders to augment the herbs and base ingredients. Our dear friend (and chef) Adam Shepard made us an amazing Thai curry when he was in town that we missed terribly, which led to today's batch. Although I prefer chicken and tofu in my panang curries, we had beef since I had it on hand.

Panang is a variety of red curry that uses galangal and lemongrass. Since I cannot get fresh galangal or lemongrass easily in Beirut (though the chef at the Jai kitchen swears it is occasionally sold in Dora) I substituted fresh ginger and bay leaves. It is freaking delicious though. There would have been pictures but we ate it immediately.

Curry Ingredients:
1/2 pound meat of some sort (or tofu)
2 cups coconut milk
1/2 red bell pepper
1 green onion
1 carrot, thinly sliced
2 bay leaves
a handful of basil leaves
1 tbsp peanut butter
1 heaping tsp garam masala/curry powder
1/2 tbsp chili flakes or paprika
2 tbsp fish sauce
2 tbsp raw cane sugar
salt to taste
crushed salted peanuts and basil slivers to garnish

The Paste:
1 small-medium onion
4 garlic cloves, smashed into a paste
1 inch of gingerroot, peeled and finely shredded
2+ tbsp oil

Prep:
1. Slice your meat very thinly and brown on medium high heat in a pan with some oil and salt. Remove from the pan and reserve for later.

2. Slice the green onion basil, peppers and carrot. Put the carrot with the meat and the pepper, onion and basil on another plate. I slice the peppers into very thin inch long strips, which gives them a nice taste and texture, and slice the green onion at a 45 degree angle towards the root. to make the cut bits look like a pokey straw.

3. Make a paste from the ingredients listed above. A blender is really nice for this, (add oil to help it along, not water), but if your power is out while cooking, which is admittedly not likely outside of Lebanon, you can finely mince it and then mash it up with a mortar and pestle like I did.

4. Prepare your wet ingredients (coconut milk, fish sauce, peanut butter and the sugar) in a bowl and have it ready to dump in at a moment's notice.

5. If you're making rice, you may want to start it now.

6. Put the bay leaves and spices in a bowl and have them ready to dump in

7. Put the peanuts in a different bowl for similar purposes.

The Cooking:
1. Heat a deep flat pan on medium and add the paste, cooking for about a minute or two, at which point you add the spice bowl and continue stirring for about 30 seconds.

2. Add the wet ingredient bowl and scrape whatever sticks to it into the pan. Allow it to begin bubbling, then turn the heat to low and cover. You'll cook it like this for about 10 minutes.

3. Add the meat and carrot and cover, cooking for another 10 minutes.

4. Add the chopped vegetables, cover, and turn off the heat. I usually let it rest for a few minutes and then serve it up.

5. Serve in a bowl with a plate of rice on the side. Garnish with shreds of basil and peanuts.

6. AND VERY IMPORTANT. When you eat it, don't dump it all together for Christ's sake.  (Tam loves to do this, which dismays me to no end). Use a spoon to dip up a bit of rice, then scoop the curry onto the spoon. This way you taste all of the flavors without the starch of the rice overwhelming things.


Monday, September 16, 2013

French Roasted Chicken: For Lack of a Better Adjective

Appropriately, I'm writing this entry while taking a break from a snoozer of a book on the historical supremacy of French cuisine and the creation of a notion of cuisine that predated the Revolution but which really took off during the era of French nationalism that characterized the period of Revolution and Empire. (The irony being that this era coincided with the French people being generally starved and decrepit from constant warfare). The majority of the book is a polish job on Antonin Careme,  the Bobby Flay of the early 19th century, but it does have some interesting points on what made modern French cuisine so different in an era.

Notably, its simplicity. As Careme penned his authoritative and highly critical works, the aristocracy and high bourgeoisie was still working through its obsession with choking down rare cuts of various beasts encrusted in an inch of nutmeg, cayenne, cinnamon and Christ knows what else. The obsession with spices, which we can originally blame on the Romans, was more a tip of the cap to conspicuous consumption than to flavor. Careme, in a move which would define French cuisine, rejected overspicing in favor of the more refined flavors obtainable through herbs, essences and stocks. The ingredients became the centerpieces of the cuisine, and it was a good thing.

It is worth mentioning that Careme was also a snobby prick who couldn't resist a chance to show someone up, a trait which endeared him to me immediately in light of my ongoing hate affair with Pinterest. Although it's a great place to stumble onto good recipes, excellent blogs and great ideas, these are generally isolated islands of excellence afloat in a buttery sewer of American food culture. Here, simplicity refers not to the ingredients, but to the recipe writers themselves. Every time I see the word bake used as a noun, I get an urge to kill.

So to pay  homage to Careme and throw the finger to the boobs of Pinterest, here is a simple, relatively healthy and really cheap chicken recipe that can be prepared in minutes, baked in about an hour, and keeps well for leftovers for the next day. It's what we should be making at home, not "bakes."

French Chicken
4 bone-in skin-on chicken thighs (or a whole chicken, make sure you cook it longer...)
2 potatoes
2 carrots
10 garlic cloves (crushed and depapered)
1 small onion cut into wedges
4 shallots (or more onion)
4 sprigs of parsley
4 sprigs of fresh thyme
4 sprigs rosemary
2 tsp dried thyme powder
salt
pepper
butter
olive oil
1/4 cup white wine
1/4 cup water

Prep:
1. Take the chicken out of the oven an hour beforehand to allow it to reach room temperature, which will help it cook evenly. Preheat the oven to 475.

2. Soften about 1/4 cup of butter and mince up a few thyme and parsley leaves and mix in a good amount of salt and pepper and dried thyme. Set aside. This takes about 5 seconds, don't be put off by the idea of herbed butter.

3. Cube the carrots and potatoes, chop the onion and quarter the shallots, and throw the fresh and dry herbs into a large bowl. Douse them with olive oil, salt and pepper. Really, don't undersalt this. If you think you've got enough, just toss in a bit more for good measure. Mix well.

4. Place the vegetables in a glass pan and pour the wine and water over them.

5. Lube up the chicken pieces with the herbed butter and glob any of the remainder on top of the thighs. This will melt into the pan and mix with everything else beautifully.

Cooking:
1. Put the pan in the oven at 475 for 25 minutes to seal and crisp the chicken.

2. REDUCE THE TEMPERATURE to 350 and cook for about 30 minutes until the legs appear to have shrunken noticeably. With a full chicken, cook for at least 45 minutes, or until a meat thermometer says it's okay. You don't want to underdo it.

3. Baste a bit and let the pan sit for about 10 minutes to rest.