Misadventures in Indian Cooking

It’s part of my genetic programming to make sure that everyone is fed. It’s just as well since my future career is the mom from My Big Fat Greek Wedding. I go to the extreme though because on any given night (assuming I have the energy and we’re not doing take-out) I’m making at least three different meals; one that’s kid friendly, one that’s Joe friendly (Joe friendly cuisine is similar to kid friendly cuisine but with seasoning), and one for me that’s a little crazy. So in this age of self care I am actually making myself more stressed out because most of the time I don’t want to eat “kid food.” Eating what I want is part of my self care. Indian food is my comfort food. And there may come a time when we don’t live near an Indian restaurant that delivers (WOE BE THE DAY). So I have taken it upon myself to learn how to cook it.

So last night I attempted an important Indian staple; Tikka Masala. I’ve made it before, but I don’t remember what recipe I used. So this time I kind of did whatever I wanted. It didn’t work too well. I’m not sharing this post because I’m a cooking guru and I must impart my wisdom unto the world. I’m sharing this post because I can tell you how to NOT make tikka masala.

I will say my rice turned out pretty well. I did basmati rice – of course – and I cooked it in light coconut milk instead of water. I put in a little Chinese five spice too – Joe’s suggestion. A damn good one. Cook this for 20 minutes until you realize it’s not done and there’s not enough liquid. Add a little water, put the lid back on and cook it for an undetermined amount of time until it’s perfect.

Perfection is a subjective concept.

For the sauce, first roast a red bell pepper. I thought that this was GENIUS. I don’t like things super spicy and I thought that this would be just awesome. So I drizzled a gorgeous red pepper with olive oil and put it in the oven at 425. Meanwhile I watched an episode of Dear Genevieve while the kids played with Megablocks on the floor. It came out like this.

On the underside were gorgeous burned edges that Francis Mallman would be proud of. I let it cool, diced it up, and set it aside. (In the end, I couldn’t tell the difference. I think I would have been better off with actual chili peppers).

Step two, have your significant other peel and mince several cloves of garlic and an onion. (Delegation is key whilst keeping children happy.)

Throw the garlic and onion in a hot skillet with some ghee (ghee is clarified butter. I just happened to have this in my fridge from when I was on my Paleo kick. It’s a staple fat in Indian cooking) Then you add your spices. In an episode of The Mind of a Chef a tip given was to think of all of these spices as colors. So when you’re cooking try to use all of them. Here’s my color wheel.

Starting from the bottom left: coriander, curry, garam masala, cumin, chili powder, paprika, and in the middle is a smattering of aleppo (aleppo is a mild ground pepper). As my kleptomaniac great grandmother would have said, “Now, isn’t that pretty?” There is a fault here and it’s not with the huge amount of garam masala and curry. The cumin and chili powder need to be replaced with more garam masala and curry. I will tell you why. Later.

So I mixed all of this up until the onions were translucent – as much as I could tell covered with spices as they were. Then you add the pepper. And these babies.

Ooooooh. Organic. Fancy.

Let me be perfectly clear. This is too much damn tomato. Don’t do it. Next time I’ll do the big can but not the small one. Anyway all of this went in and I suddenly didn’t have any room in the skillet for chicken or cream. So everybody got moved to a stock pot.

Let this cook for a while. Then, if you have an immersion blender use it to get the sauce all velvety. I have an immersion blender, but I couldn’t find the damn thing so I poured the whole pot into a blender for like, a couple minutes.

Then return it all to the pot and you get to add the cream.

Now, isn’t that pretty? Keep adding cream until it’s the right color. Don’t ask me what color – that’s a personal preference. I like mine a little darker than vodka sauce.

Then you add the chicken. Did I marinate raw chicken overnight in a lovely mixture of yogurt, lemon and spices? Hahahahahahahahahahaha.

No.

This is where Vishnu cries ladies and gentlemen. This is where the entire nation of Great Britain openly weeps. I DESECRATED tikka masala by using CANNED CHICKEN. SHOOT ME.

Yeah and I bought the naan too.

I don’t have a final picture because I can tell you what it looked like. It looked like what it tasted like. Chicken chili. This is how Joe described it, and it’s accurate. I was edible. It was a good attempt. And for my dear sweet husband who will only tolerate tandoori chicken and abhors curry, I was touched that he liked it.

But for the love of all that is good and holy, don’t make tikka masala the way I did.