Chicken Curry with Chickpeas and Cauliflower (PCP)

• 8 (5- to 7- ounce) bone-in chicken thighs, trimmed
• Salt and pepper
• 1 tablespoon vegetable oil
• 2 onions, chopped fine
• 6 garlic cloves, minced
• 1 tablespoon curry powder
• 2 teaspoons grated fresh ginger
• 1 tablespoons tomato paste
• 1 teaspoon garam masala
• 1 cup low-sodium chicken broth
• 1/2 head cauliflower (1 pound), cored and cut into 1-inch florets
• 1 (14-ounce) can chickpeas, rinsed [I botched this by buying dried instead of canned.  Decided to use this can of red beans that I haven't managed to use elsewhere.]
• 1/2 cup coconut milk
• 1/2 cup frozen peas
• 1/4 cup minced fresh cilantro

Mise en place.

Brown half the thighs skin-side down.  Remove skin from each thigh.

Cook onion over medium heat until softened.

Stir in garlic, curry powder, ginger, tomato paste, and garam masala and cook until fragrant.

Stir in broth.  Scrape up fond.  Nestle chicken with any accumulated juices into pot.  Cook at high pressure for 20 minutes.

Reserve chicken on plate, tented with foil.  Bring sauce to simmer, stir in cauliflower, chickpeas, and coconut milk and cook until cauliflower is tender.

Though hardly amazing, this was a perfectly satisfactory chicken curry.  Obviously great texture for a such a short period of time.
I'm sad I had to toss out much of it since upheaval in my personal life got in the way,

My Curry

From April Bloomfield's A Girl and Her Pig

• 1 tablespoon fennel seeds, toasted
• 2 tablespoons cumin seeds, toasted
• 1 tablespoon fenugreek seeds, toasted [I'm not sure why I visited the same Indian grocer in Central Square a couple years back and thought I could only buy the powdered stuff, but it was sitting there this time around!]
• 10 whole cloves
• 2 whole star anise
• 3 green cardamom pods
• 3 fresh kaffir lime leaves [I could drive myself nuts looking for these or I could just used the dried stuff from Whole Foods.]
• 1 tablespoon crumbled dried pequin chilies [Bloomfield seems to be in love with these babies, but I am not yet going to special order them from Amazon.  AND if they cannot be found on Amazon, it's just not happening.  L'epicerie screwed me once; it's not happening again.] or red pepper flakes
• 1/2 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
• 2 teaspoons ground tumeric
• 1/3 cup extra virgin olive oil
• 2 cups thinly sliced shallots
• 4 garlic cloves, thinly sliced
• 1/2 small cinnamon stick [Eh, I used a whole one instead.  How bad can that be?]
• 1/2 cup finely chopped fresh ginger (from a 3-ounce piece)
• 3 cups drained, trimmed, and chopped canned peeled wholed tomatoes
•  2 tablespoons Maldon [another Bloomfield favorite] or another flaky sea salt
• 8 cilantro roots with 2 inched of stem attached, washed well and finely chopped [Shopping for Zak Pelaccio has taught me to not even try to look for this stuff.  I can wait for it to happen to me, but that's as far as it goes.]
• A 5-inch strip of orange peel, any white pith cut away
• A 5-inch strip of lemon peel, any white pith cut away
• 1/4 cup freshly squeezed orange juice
• 2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice
• 1 tablespoon freshly squeezed lime juice [Maybe if I had to include the peel as well...]
• 1 1/2 cups pineapple juice (fresh, bottled, or canned)
• 2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
• 4 pounds boneless lamb shoulder, cut into 2-inch pieces
• 2 tablespoons Maldon or another flaky sea salt

$60 worth of lamb shoulder.  The whole (-ish I assume) shoulder is from Whole Foods and set me back the usual crazy amount of money.  This is for another Bloomfield dish coming up.

Who knows if the "Lamb Stew" meat from McKinnon's is even shoulder.  I was going under the presumption that it was close enough.

Alas, I could not lay my hands on boneless lamb shoulder.  Since this dish involved a literally stupid amount of prep work, let's say that rendering the meat boneless cost me at least an hour.

Oh, 2 cups of finely sliced shallots.  I'm unsure how much time this took me, but I sat in front of the computer playing a poker tournament while doing it.  I don't think that two hours is unreasonable.

A direct quote from "A Girl and Her Pig":

Don't let the long ingredient list scare you off; this curry is easy to make.  The only time-consuming part is collecting all the spices.

NO!  I have many of the spices already.  I'd say that even if I had managed to find boneless lamb shoulder, the shallots and the garlic prep was fucking retarded.

I think I'm toasting cumin seeds here since there seems to be an awful lot of them.

I was being coy and thought I could grind up all the spices in one batch, but that wasn't true.  In any case, like I mentioned, this was a minor pain in the ass compared to other stuff I had to do.

Mise en place.  Finally!

"Oh, hey," Bloomfield says to me.  "I'm pretty sure if you cook these shallots over medium-high heat for ten minutes, they'll wind up deep brown."

I'm like "WTF.  Are you kidding me?  Caramelizing onions takes more like a hour than 10 minutes."  I give this a shot, but I know what's up.

The garlic goes in at the same time, but that's besides the point.

Add spices and ginger (I think I lost close to an hour to the ginger.) and stir constantly for 3 minutes.

Add tomatoes and salt and cook, stirring frequently, (Um, ok) until most of the liquid has evaporated and the mixture looks quite dry.

Add juice and peels and set aside.  Cilantro roots if you got them I guess, but I don't.

Brown the lamb.  This took ages since, um, like every other kitchen I've dealt with the stove-top is slanted.  Eventually I figured there was enough grease in the pan to use the full area, but it wasn't until pretty late.

As you go, dump the browned in that laborious mixture above.

Another dish that called for a broad range of ingredients but failed to live up to the effort involved.  After all, it's really an unspectacular curry dish.

So after the whole browning process, the dish goes into a 350 degree for 1 1/2 hours.  Then you turn down the heat to 250 and it's a whole other hour.

I was pulling out the dish every 1/2 hour to give things a stir, and I'm not sure when I noticed this but all of a sudden the knob had gotten wrenched up to 450 degrees.  Honestly, I don't think my brushing up against the knob trying to reach something on a high shelf did this, and I don't think the brain-dead roommate we might be rid of soon would touch the oven...

In any event, the meat was tender enough without the extra hour at low heat.

Lord knows if I would've noticed any real nuance to the dish if the temperature stayed where it should've been.  I say because I'm never ever doing this again!

Hot, Sweet, and Sour Chickpeas with Eggplant (HCEV)

• 2 tablespoons neutral oil, like grapeseed and corn (Rather save the grapeseed oil for MMB recipes and corn oil is another thing Michael Pollan has successfully made me feel queasy about. So peanut oil it is.)
• 1 medium eggplant, cut into bite-sized pieces
• 1 tablespoon minced peeled fresh ginger
• 2 hot fresh chiles, seeded and minced, or hot red pepper flakes to taste (Used a couple orange habaneros since I love spiciness. Boy, did it hurt when I threw them in the saucepan. I had me, the roommate I was cooking with, and the roommate who had is door open near the kitchen coughing the whole night.)
• 1 sprig fresh curry leaves or dried leaves (Interestingly enough, the Indian supermarket in Central Square on Mass Ave only has fresh leaves and I had to get dried ones from my Indian co-worker last fall when I wanted to make my own curry powder. Too damned tired to drop in and buy some last night.)
• 3 cups black or regular chickpeas, with about 2 cups of their cooking liquid (Used regular here. Oh, Mark Bittman, if only I cared enough to execute this to your highest standards; most of the time I do pretty well.)
• 1 tablespoon Sambar Powder or curry powder (The recipe for Sambar Powder did sound compellingly interesting, but I had some above-mentioned curry powder left that I plan on throwing out in a couple weeks, as per some of Bittman's other advice.)
• 1 teaspoon ground tumeric
• Pinch of asafetida [optional] (I bought a tiny container of this about two years ago at world famous Kalustyan's in Manhattan's Little India. Didn't attempt to wrench open the container until last night. Sure, shit's optional, but Indian food won't taste the same without. Also if you live in Boston, there's no real excuse when there are Indian grocery stores everywhere.)
• 2 tablespoons brown sugar
• 1 tablespoon tamarind paste or freshly squeezed lime juice to taste
• Salt and freshly ground black pepper
• Chopped cilantro leaves for garnish (I rarely even lie to myself about garnishing anymore by buying fresh herbs. I left out the ingredient below as well.)
• Chopped roasted peanuts for garnish

Mise en place.


Threw the food back in the pan to mix the whole thing up with a splash of Staci Z's lite coconut milk. Going into shopping at the Whole Foods in Symphony, I had to wonder why coconut milk wasn't on the grocery list, and after actually making the dish, it so called out for a bit of richness.
Though sauteing chopped habeneros was a thoroughly intense experience, I thought the dish wasn't overwhelming and had a nice slow burn. Staci differed on this point.