The book: Curry Easy (Madhur Jaffrey)The recipe: p101, "Turkey Chappali Kebabs"; p220, "Thin Rice Noodles with Brussels Sprouts"; p238, "Peshawar Red Pepper Chutney"; p236, "Thin Raw Onion Rings"
Blimey, that post title is a bit of a mouthful, isn't it? But there's method in the madness. Kind of.
You see, random.org does a perfectly good job this week in choosing "Curry Easy" - it's nice to be firmly back in Madhur territory, even if her rice did accompany a non-Madhur curry quite recently - but the recipe it then lands on, "Thin Rice Noodles with Brussels Sprouts", feels like a bit too much like a side dish to stand on its own two feet.
So we try a further spin of the wheel, which brings us to "Turkey Chappali Kebabs". (If you're as clueless as I am, Wikipedia is here to help.) I'm initially concerned that this may involve components that Lewisham Asda will struggle to furnish:
...but thankfully the leaves and sticks and lemons such are just a serving suggestion - or at least they're not mentioned anywhere in the recipe on the opposing page - so this one seems like a goer. I'm not sure it'll necessarily go with the noodle side dish, but hey, life's fun when you mix and match?
Speaking of what it might go with, on closer reading of Madhur's blurb for the turkey kebabs, I notice a recommendation that I serve them with two accompaniments: a spicy chutney and some prepared sliced onions. I've ignored Madhur's instructions on salt quantities often enough that I feel I owe her one, and so I find myself gearing up to make no fewer than four different things for this week's blog. Ho hum.
Not that they're all of equal difficulty. You'll enjoy the recipe for "Thin Raw Onion Rings", for example:
Well, I mean... sure? I probably didn't need that to take up a whole half-page of a book I paid good money for, but there we are.
The prep: Ingredient-wise, even with four dishes to juggle (well, three dishes and some onions), there's nothing too complex here. The various herbs and spices I don't already own can largely be procured from the aforementioned Asda; I end up sacrificing fresh curry leaves for dried (and, conversely, dried chillies for fresh), but that won't be a problem. No issues finding turkey mince, either, albeit I can't fulfil Madhur's request of "preferably a mixture of light and dark meat" - going by the fat content, at least, this is on the light side. Which is healthier, but also more likely to become dry when cooked in kebab form, I guess?
I'm a little concerned that sourcing Brussels sprouts in July will be troublesome (not that it's a deal-breaker, since Madhur notes that shredded cabbage is fine too), but nope: all present and correct at Asda, albeit about five times more expensive than when they're being flogged as a loss leader in the run-up to Christmas.
The only potential sticking point is the thin rice noodles, or "dried rice sticks" as the ingredient list calls them, adding the warning: "(from Thai grocers)". We don't specifically have one of those nearby, but I figure the pan-Asian shop down the Lee High Road will surely come up trumps if necessary. No need, though - the exotic aisle at Asda offers not one but three different types of rice stick for me to choose from. Being rather inexpert in the genre (I've eaten them before, but never made anything with them myself), I plump for the cheapest, because it's as good a criterion as any.
The making: A bit of planning is required here, god forbid. I actually start the night before, since the recipe for the turkey kebabs suggests that letting the flavours mingle for "as long as 24 hours" could be beneficial. Those flavours are yoghurt ("strained", the recipe says; the Greek yoghurt I'm using does not require this treatment, or at least refuses to respond to any efforts to impose it), lightly crushed coriander and cumin seeds, finely chopped fresh mint, crushed red chilli flakes, peeled and grated fresh ginger, and - wait for it - "¾ teaspoon salt, or to taste".
"Or to taste"! It's a Madhur miracle. Quite why this recipe gives me the option of not overloading the dish with salt when nothing else in this book does is beyond me, but I gladly take the opportunity to reduce the quantity by half without risking opprobrium. Anyway, all of the above having been mixed in with the turkey mince, it's time to cover it up and let it sit in the fridge overnight. After which time it looks predictably delightful.
The actual cooking part begins with the cold components, which means thinly slicing an onion and plunging it into a bowl of icy water (read: literally some water with ice cubes in it) for half an hour.
These half-rings of onion will later be drained and squeezed dry, which you're going to have to imagine for yourself without photographic evidence. I suspect you'll manage.
I then make the chutney, which is a fairly straightforward matter. Red pepper, mint leaves, lemon juice, roughly chopped garlic, cayenne pepper, salt and black pepper are put into a blender "in the order listed", Madhur insists for some reason. She doesn't say that I should blend them as I add them, though, so:
Only now am I told to blend it all, still none the wiser as to what the order was all about, before adding some slivered almonds and blending again. "Until smooth", Madhur says. This is a bit of a problem for my old Kenwood, whose blade isn't really made for tasks like this. Still, I'm good with a chunky chutney, so I complete the last step - stirring through some chopped fresh dill, because apparently that couldn't possibly have been thrown in the food processor with everything else - and the end result looks... well, chunky, yes, but certainly flavoursome.
I then return to the kebabs - or the turkey burgers, as they basically are. I say that because the next step involves taking my meat mixture and dividing it into six flattened patties before frying them on each side. So, yeah - pretty burger-like. The recipe requires them to be cooked entirely in the frying pan, but I need to get my noodles going too and multi-tasking seems like a terrible idea, so I brown them a little...
...then pop them into the oven on a low-to-medium heat to slowly cook while I get to work on my self-imposed side dish.
It's the description of the noodles as a "south Indian-style dish" that makes me finally twig that Madhur is essentially replicating the idiyappam or "string hoppers" you sometimes get at the mighty Everest Curry King, just without the need for obscure ingredients. The Thai rice sticks are longer and thicker than their Sri Lankan/south Indian counterparts, admittedly, but this is partially resolved in a rudimentary manner: by soaking them in water then using kitchen scissors to "snip the noodles into manageable lengths".
 |
| Manageable enough, I guess? |
The Brussels sprouts are then trimmed, cut in half lengthways, then cut crossways into thin-ish shreds. If you're finding that hard to imagine, boy, do I have the picture for you!
 |
| See |
That done, I fire up a heavy-bottomed wok and heat some oil. The first ingredient to go in is an unexpected one. "You will notice that a little raw rice is used here as a seasoning", Madhur says. I do notice that, and I find it a bit odd. Still, it's supposed to add a bit of nuttiness to the dish, and after five seconds in hot oil it just looks like any other spice or seed really. That's when I add mustard seeds and some fresh whole green chillies that I've slit lengthways, followed by the dried curry leaves and the chopped-up sprouts. These are stir-fried for five mnutes or until "lightly browned".
 |
| Browning in progress |
I then add 120ml of water, lower the heat and cook everything for a minute, before adding the drained rice noodles and - yes! - a whole teaspoon of salt. (Madhur, never change.) This all gets stir-fried for a few minutes before yet more water is added, even though the noodles are already pretty soft from being soaked for hours. Hmm. It feels like this might all end up being quite claggy, but then maybe that's the point, I'm not sure? (Oh, I should mention that I've discarded the chillies by this point, since they've served their purpose flavour-wise and no one needs the unexpected surprise of biting into one.)
Either way, once all of that water is more or less absorbed/evaporated and the wok is full of a sticky but pleasant-smelling mess, the kebabs come back out of the oven and I'm ready to serve up!
The eating: "You may even put this kebab in a hamburger bun, along with the onion rings and either a good squirt of lemon juice or some tomato ketchup," Madhur says. Since I may, I do. Or rather, I've discovered two brutally cheap white burger buns in the freezer - so I give us one bebunned kebab and one non-bebunned kebab each, as that also seems like a fair way of finding out which works best.
Oh, and rather than ketchup or lemon juice, I put some of the red pepper chutney that I've made into the burger bun, because otherwise what was the point of recommending that I make it? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
The rest of the chutney and the surplus onions are served on the side (i.e. they're not pictured here; you'll have to use your imagination again).
Now, obviously that's not exactly a hugely elegant plate - the bun/non-bun combo makes it look rather lopsided, and the soggy noodles (you can practically hear how they splatted onto the plate, can't you?) aren't exactly the obvious companion for the more fast food-y turkey kebabs. You'll have to forgive me.
Don't waste too much of your forgiveness, though, because the meal itself is lovely. I mean, just really, really good. The 24 hours in the fridge have done the turkey kebabs the world of good; the flavours are deep and pleasing, and the addition of some yoghurt prevents the meat from being too dry, even after being finished off slowly in the oven. Meanwhile, the noodles are flavourful without being overly spicy, with the nuttiness of the Brussels sprouts and the almost buttery slipperiness of the rice sticks combining to fine effect.
The chutney has a nice kick to it and a complex flavour; nothing outstanding as such, but that might be because I didn't blend it smoothly enough. It's a good addition either way, though.
The only thing that's a bit pointless is the onions, which don't really taste any less sharp than, well, normal unsoaked onions. So that wasn't especially worth the bother. Still, no harm done (other than to the tea towel I had to squeeze them in).
But generally speaking, it's two thumbs up for Madhur this time round. Not only would I happily make the turkey kebabs and the sprouty noodles again, I actually already have done the noodles a second time, using up the rest of the packet of rice sticks with some cabbage that was still in the fridge from last week's veg box. (It didn't work quite as well; cabbage is less flavourful and more watery in the first place, which I think may have been the main issue. Either that or there just wasn't the surprise element of it actually tasting nice...)
In any case, I'm calling this one a bit of a triumph. And I managed to publish this entire post without Blogger deciding to delete it for no good reason. Celebrate!
Two-word verdict: Spot on.
No comments:
Post a Comment