best ever Friday night curry
“Let’s go for a curry,” is a very typical thing for a British person to say. It is short-hand for “Let’s have Indian food,” “Let’s have something spicy,” but also something deeper, like “Let’s let our hair down and do something completely relaxing and delicious and un-demanding.” The very word is mysterious — does it come from, as some suggest, the simple French word “cuire,” which means to cook? Or does it refer to an Indian word, “kari,” which means a spicy sauce?
Curry, of course, also conjured up romantic (or exploitive, depending on your perspective) images of British-occupied India, with tents in sand, white-dressed waiters, exotic spices filling the air.
Does the word “curry” refer to the flavoring paste, or to the collection of vegetables and meat that swim in it? Either, or both. Curry is essential mystery of British life.
Curry can be, in boring restaurants, a very watered-down, unexciting culinary experience where the intense flavors have been muted to appeal to the lowest common denominator. Or it can be, in your own home, an intensely flavoursome, colorful, creamy, spicy delight. The perfect thing, therefore, on a Friday night that caps off a difficult week, as ours was last night.
The only special equipment you need — if you are not devoted to a mortar and pestle (I am not) — is a small chopping machine or a blender.
The secret to truly tender chicken in this curry is two-fold: slice the chicken very thin AGAINST the grain of the meat. Turn the breast this way and that in good light, so you can see the way the meat grows. Cut it AGAINST the vertical lines, turning the meat now and then to make sure you are following the grain all through the breast. This will make complete sense when you begin to slice.
The second secret for the chicken is to bring the sauce to a high simmer, then drop in the chicken, then turn the heat VERY low. You can even turn it off. Stir frequently, bringing the sauce to a simmer again if you can see the chicken is still pink. This is really a poaching method. Cooking the chicken over high heat in this sauce will turn it tough. Do not let this happen.
Perfect Friday-Night Curry
(serves 6)
for the paste:
6 cloves garlic
1 fat 2‑inch knob ginger, peeled and cut in chunks
3 Thai red chilies
2 tbsps Sriracha super-hot chili sauce
zest and juice of 1 lime
1 shallot, peeled
1 stalk lemon grass, finely chopped
1 tsp Thai fish sauce
1 tsp sugar
1/2 tsp sea salt
fresh black pepper
1 tsp water
for the curry:
2 tbsps vegetable or olive oil
2 red bell peppers, cut in bite-size pieces
1/2 head cauliflower, cut in bite-size florets
1 white onion, cut in eighths
1 zucchini/courgette, cut in bite-size pieces
1/4 cup chicken stock
1 cup/250 ml coconut cream
1 soup-size can coconut milk
4 chicken breast fillets, completely trimmed
steamed basmati rice
large handful flat-leaf parsley, chopped fine
large handful cilantro/coriander, chopped fine
Place all the ingredients for the paste in your chopping machine or blender and pulse for a long time, scraping down the sides, so that they form a thick, even paste.
In a large, heavy-bottomed saucepan, heat the oil till very hot. Tip in the paste. Stir vigorously.
Tip in all the vegetables but the courgette and cook over a high heat until the peppers begin to color slightly. Add the courgette.
Pour in the stock, coconut cream and coconut milk and stir until fully blended. Bring to a high simmer and add the chicken. Turn the heat down very low and continue to stir, checking frequently to see if the chicken has turned opaque and lost its pinkness. This is the moment to turn the heat OFF.
Prepare your rice. Here is another secret for you. When your rice has fully steamed, turn off the heat and leave it, covered, for about 10 minutes. This will produce enough extra steam to loosen the rice from the bottom of the pan, and it will come away fully, leaving no sticky bits. Toss the rice with the parsley and cilantro and resist the urge to add butter. You don’t need it; the curry is creamy enough.
Enjoy.
