Patient readers of CrackingCurry.com must forgive the recent lack of posts. I’ve been experimenting wildy with curries — most notably, I’ve tried recreating Texas Curry a half-dozen times — but the results have not been bloggable. *Sigh.

That said, on nights off from mad experimentation, I’ve stumbled across a surprisingly simple curry*, a version of which I first made at Thai cooking school at the Mandarin Oriental in Bangkok. It’s tremendously easy and delicious.

So on this, the two-year anniversary of this very blog, I share this easy-to-make curry below. Experiment with chicken or shrimp, and with whatever veggies are in season. Serve with jasmine rice – and perhaps a delicious rosé. Enjoy!

*I suppose this is technically a Chinese-inspired dish, rather than a curry…but in my book it’s a curry.

Easy & Simple Curry

2 tsbs oil (I use sunflower)
5-6 cloves garlic (diced)
2-inch piece of ginger (diced)
1.5 tbsp roasted-chili paste
1 tbsp fish sauce
2 tbsp oyster sauce
3/4 tbsb palm sugar
1/3 cup coconut milk (feel free to use a bit more)
1-2 chicken breasts, sliced into bite-sized pieces
1 red bell pepper, julienned
1 yellow bell pepper, cut into square bite-size pieces
big handful snow peas
2 birds-eye chiles, diced, for added spiciness
jasmine rice

Heat the oil and add garlic, stirring for a minute or so, then ginger. Add chili paste, fish sauce, oyster sauce and palm sugar; stir well. Pour in coconut milk. Bring to boil. Drop in pieces of chicken. Allow meat to cook for a few minutes, til nearly done. Add bell pepper. Stir and allow to steam. Add snowpeas and chiles (if desired.) Serve over jasmine rice. Delicious!

What on earth is that, you might ask? Good question. That is kokum — a blackish-red fruit that imparts a sour, tamarind-like flavor.

I had never heard of kokum before tasting a delicious crawfish curry at Pondicheri Cafe in Houston. Having recounted that wondrous experience in a previous blog post, it was imperative that I learn more.

I found kokum at Kalyustyan’s, quite possibly the only store in New York that carries it. The package describes it as “black” kokum (thought really, it’s a beautiful dark red color) and further as a “pliable semi-dried, sour, and astringent skin of a mangosteen-like fruit.” Oh my, that clears things up.

I have — spoiler alert — now tried the above kokum in several recipes (all attempts to recreate that delicious Texas curry). Not sure if I am using it correctly, but I take about 6-10 of the pods, and soak them in a small amount of hot water for about a half-hour. Then, I remove from the water, chop up (removing any pits) and pound in a mortar and a pestle.

What I like best about this unusual ingredient (besides the fact that it is unusual) is that it really does give a dish a nice “sour” taste, and it imparts a lovely scarlet color. I need to experiment some more, but so far, I’m a kokum fan. If you can find it — and I realize that’s a big “if” — I’d suggest using it instead of tamarind or perhaps lime.

And don’t be afraid to use a lot of it…next time, I’m doubling my usual amount. Unlike chile peppers, a little does not go a long ways. Leave a comment if you’ve tried it!

By the time we made it to Houston, I was ready for a curry….after nearly two weeks without one!

On the recommendation of our friend Houstonian R (who has made an appearance on this blog before), we checked out a lovely Indian restaurant called Pondicheri, located in a section of Houston called “Upper Kirby.” (Is there a lower? I have no idea.) As we drove in, I was amused by two other restaurants in the neighborhood — Beck’s Prime and Eddie V’s — which are across the street from one another and appear to be named after 90s musicians. Beyond that, the neighborhood seemed to be something like a giant shopping mall, complete with a gigantic department store called “Tootsie’s” that seemed omnipresent no matter where one looked….

But Upper Kirby turned out to be pleasing, in a new-construction sort of way. Pondicheri itself is in an airy space with big multi-paned windows and outdoor seating. We took advantage of the plein-air tables and sat next to giant pots of herbs separating us from the shiny parked vehicles on the street. And then we tried these refreshing drinks (pictured left) – a sparkling-wine cocktail called “Mangosa” for myself (which I thought at first was tinted with turmeric, but that’s mango) and a beer concoction called “Shandy” for the dining companion. All of a sudden, even Tootsie’s was looking appealing.

And then we sampled the food. One taste of my main entree, kerala crawfish curry, left me humbled, intrigued and nearly inspired to write a country song (note: I don’t listen to country). But when you come face to face with perfection — well, perhaps not perfection, but pretty close — these are the stumbling things one contemplates. On past occasions, I have wondered if curry chefs shake an addictive ingredient into the sauce, say, the culinary equivalent of nicoteine, where you just want more and more, almost uncontrollably. As I tasted this delicious crawfish curry, I wondered that again.

A quick consult with the menu revealed some clues, but not much. The crawfish was from Louisiana, the masala was flavored with coconut and curry leaf, and something called “kokum” was added to the mix. What on earth was kokum!? Could that be the secret ingredient causing such a dire desire to learn more?

There was only one thing I was sure of: After months (years!) of Thai curry cuisine, I was ready to try my hand at Indian entrees again. While humbled by the dish, I was also spurred to try to re-create it. We sampled other dishes at Pondicheri as well — all delicious — but this kerala crawfish curry (pictured below) won my heart. We finished our meal and drinks, and headed to the airport to catch our flight home to New York.

I had come to Lone Star State eager to try barbecue. But I left wanting more Texas curry.

To be continued.

It’s been a terribly long time since I’ve posted, most of which I’ll blame on an extended sojourn to Texas. (The other part I’ll blame on laziness.)

While in the Lone Star State, I sampled a tremendous range of culinary options…including the “Texas triathlon” (pork rib, beef brisket and sausage) at Smitty’s BBQ in Lockhart. The photo above captures it all. How often do you walk into a place where the smell of smoke and meat almost overwhelms, where the walls are black from soot, and the heat of the fire nearly hits you in the face? Not very often. I highly recommend if you find yourself in South Texas.

After nearly two weeks of journeying in Texas, I made it to Houston and finally sampled my first Texas curry. I don’t want to give too much away, but let’s just say crawfish was involved. A proper post on said curry is to follow in due course.

For the record, a number of folks say City Market in Luling, Texas, has BBQ that rivals Smitty’s. Perhaps on a future visit I’ll find out. Smitty’s was hard to top…even if our clothes did smell like smoke for days afterward!

Fun sign in Chinatown. A fine PLUS bad fortune for dumping.

So I recently checked out Curry-Ya, after a restaurant source who’s in-the-know recommended it. It’s a Japanese curry house — and I must admit, I’d never tried a Japanese curry before. In my defense, Japan is not the first country one associates with curry…in my 350-page cookbook bible, Curry Cuisine, there’s approximately 4.5 pages devoted to Japanese curry. Also, I’ve never actually been to Japan (besides a layover in Tokyo, which involved quite a nice sushi, considering I never left the airport).

But apparently, curry is quite popular in the island nation. British traders first introduced Japan to curry, or at least the versions of the dish that the Brits had adapted (stolen?) from colonized nations. That was back in the 1800s. Today, Japan seems to have continued the tradition of adopting some (ahem) rather interesting versions of curry, including one that Curry-Ya promotes, called “baked” curry with cheese, which looks something like a curry au gratin. Baked curry with cheese? Hmm. As a purist, I wasn’t quite ready to go there.

What I did try, though, was the curry with seasonal vegetables, which was tasty and something like an Indian curry…except not quite as authentic. (For the record, I realize it’s a bit hypocritical for a girl from Syracuse to criticize people from other cultures who try to make an Indian curry.) But I did like that it was served bubbling — quite the welcoming sight on a chilly evening. Please see photo at left. And it was served — like most Japanese curries — with sticky rice, which seemed a more appropriate Japanese contribution to the cuisine than cheese.

My intrepid dining companion decided to try Curry-Ya’s beef curry, pictured here. He, too, thought it was an odd translation of a traditional curry — and something the French, not the Japanese, might have come up with. “It does taste like a curry bolognese,” he offered. That said, he proceeded to devour the dish, a sign that Curry-Ya must be doing something right.

Am I eager to try a Japanese curry at home? Not really. Would I recommend Curry-Ya? Sure. It’s a satisfying meal, with a gentle-on-the-wallet price point. If you’re in the East Village, and particularly if you’re a budget-conscious NYU student, it’s a great choice. And the ambience is fun and casual. We sat in the window, as a film crew outside commandeered the street to shoot scenes from an upcoming Joaquin Phoenix movie. Will Curry-Ya get a mention — perhaps even an asterisk? — on my (limited) list of favorite (Thai) curry restaurants? Sigh. Sorry Japan. Not yet.

I’ve been itching to make a korma for sometime, but wanted a recipe that didn’t call for heavy cream. (I’m not a big fan, plus the dining companion is lactose-intolerant.) A friend of a Facebook friend named Michelle Johnson posted this recipe, which calls for yogurt and just a splash of half-and-half. I tweaked a few ingredients and added a few — namely, bay leaves, cloves, cardamon and chili powder — but can’t take credit for the dish. It’s easy and delicious!

Korma
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 tbsp ginger, minced
2 tbsp garam masala
1 tbsp turmeric
1/2 tsp chili powder
pinch of salt and pepper
1 tsp sunflower oil
15 almonds or cashews, toasted and crushed into powder
4 tbsp butter
1 onion, diced
4 tomatoes, diced
1/2 cup plain greek yogurt
splash half and half
2 bay leaves
5 cloves
5 green cardamon pods (just use the seeds inside, crushed)
2 green chiles, chopped
1 lb chicken breasts, cut into bite-sized pieces, or 1 lb shrimp
rice
cilantro for garnish

Using a mortar and pestle, grind the garlic, ginger, garam masala, turmeric, chili powder, oil and a pinch of salt and pepper into a paste. Set aside. Melt 2 tbsp butter in a large pan. Once it bubbles, sautee the diced onion; add the paste and ground almonds or cashews. Stir until fragrant. Add the tomatos, yogurt and half & half. (Adjust the amount depending on how creamy you like it.) Bring to a simmer. Add bay leaves, cloves, crushed cardamon seeds, and chiles. Add the chicken or shrimp and the remaining 2 Tbs. butter. Simmer on low for 30 minutes. Serve chicken over rice and garnish with cilantro.

This leafy green herb (above) is the wondrous Thai basil….and it’s supremely difficult to find. In fact, I know of only one place in New York that carries it — my favorite grocery store, Bangkok Center Grocery on Mosco St. It’s quite different than regular sweet basil (you know, the type of thing you might use in Italian recipes), so don’t be tempted to use that as a substitute. Thai basil has a surprising minty characteristic…perfect to complement the heat of spicy Asian dishes.

One of my favorite dishes to order at Thai restaurants is chicken with Thai basil sauce, typically called pad gra pow. Somehow I had never tried to make this at home, perhaps because of the aforementioned difficulty in getting one’s hand on Thai basil. Here’s the recipe I followed the other night.

Chicken with Thai Basil Sauce

3 tbsp oyster sauce
2-3 tbsp soy sauce (adjust for saltiness)
3 tbsp fish sauce
2 tbsp palm sugar
1 tbsp lime
1 lb chicken breast, sliced into bite-sized pieces

3 tbsp oil
6 cloves garlic, diced
2 red chile peppers, sliced
1/3 cup wine
1/3 cup chicken stock
1 red bell pepper, sliced
2 scallions, sliced
1 can bamboo shoots
1/2 cup Thai basil leaves, shredded
jasmine rice

Combine the first five ingredients — oyster, soy and fish sauces, plus lime and sugar — in a mixing bowl. Use about two tablespoons of this sauce mixture to marinate the chicken in separate dish; cover the chicken while preparing the rest of the ingredients.
Heat oil in wok and add garlic and chile peppers; stir until fragrant. Deglaze the wok with wine and add chicken. Stir-fry for several minutes until chicken is just about cooked through. Add the bell pepper, plus the rest of the sauce mixture and chicken stock. Stir-fry about two minutes, until pepper has softened. Reduce heat to simmer and add the scallions and bamboo shoots. Remove from heat, and fold in the basil. Serve over rice. Yum!

Not crazy about this picture, but here you have it. Need to work on my presentation skills!

When you represent yourself as a curry expert, people always ask the best places for curry in the city.

Sadly, I don’t have too many restaurants to recommend. Too few Asian restaurants, in my estimation, offer that special combination of delicious food and big-city ambiance. I’ve written about this before (please see, “What’s a Good Place for Thai Dining in NYC,” among other posts.) Bottom line: Sure, there are tons of good take-out Asian restaurants, but not enough places where you’d go for, say, a date or to celebrate a special occasion.

Which brings me to an exciting development….a new hot spot named Red Farm has opened in my neighborhood. Now, it would be a stretch to call this a curry destination (it’s not). That said, it’s got the most interesting appetizer called Crispy Duck & Crab Dumpling (photo below) that comes with a delicious curried dipping sauce. Yum. Double Yum. Actually, it comes with four dumplings — all made to look like little crabs — so make that quadruple yum.

Crispy Duck & Crab Dumplings

We had this with the Kowloon Filet Mignon Tarts (I die!) and shared an entrée of Diced Lamb with Chinese Broccoli & White Asparagus, which of course left room for a delicious apple dessert. The setting is something like a rustic farmhouse (albeit, on Hudson Street in the West Village — not exactly bucolic) but it’s warm, inviting, cozy…. the perfect place for a great meal.

By the way, there is, in fact, an actual curry on the curry, Okra & Thai Eggplant Yellow Curry, which I’ve yet to try after three visits. I’ve been too distracted by the black cod and the snow pea dumplings. Next time.