Saturday, 14 April 2012

Indian Takeaway

Aftermath

There is little point in trying to deny it - I am a messy cook.  In the picture above you can see the residual repercussions from the creation of a daal, Bombay potatoes and poppadoms.  I have never been a tidy soul in real life and it would appear that I have transplanted that ethos into the kitchen.

I began my cascade of carnage by cooking a moong and masoor daal.  Ever since I spent a week in India I have fostered a curious love for daal, they seem to eat it at just about every occasion.  I have tried different lentils and pulses, but to be honest with you, each one I make takes a slow, inexorable slog towards the very same daal I always seem to make - a tarka daal (no otter jokes please).

A tarka or chaunk as it is known in Hindi is simply a selection of dried spices tempered in hot oil and thrown in to a dish at the very last moment.  Its intention to infuse potent flavours in a flash.

Mung bean and red lentil tarka daal
  •   Whichever lentil you happen to use, always wash them in cold, running water at least with 3 or 4 washes.  They are always dusty and this process alleviates, or at least reduces the amount of scum you need to to remove during cooking.
  •   Place the washed lentils (I used 350g) into a bowl.  Add 1 litre of water.
  •   Add 3 thin slices of ginger (no need to peel).
  •   Add a teaspoon of ground turmeric.
  •   Bring to a slow simmer (not a boil).  Skim off any scum that happens to surface.  Lower the heat, cover but leave a small gap, and cook for 45-50 minutes.
  •   The consistency should be like the photo, thick-soup like.  Adjust this if necessary with adding more water, or increase the heat and boil some off.  Add a teaspoon of salt.
  •   Add 4-5 tablespoons of neutral oil to a pan.
  •   When it is hot add a hefty pinch of asoefetida.  
  •   Add a teaspoon of cumin seeds.  They should ideally pop after 10 seconds or so.
  •   Add 3 whole, dried chilli's.
  •   Add one thinly sliced small onion.  Cook until it becomes brown and crunchy (not black and incinerated).
  •   Add 3 thinly sliced garlic cloves.  After 30 seconds, tip the entire contents of the pan (oil and all) into your lentils.  
  •   Do take care when you add the hot oil.  It can spit. 

I decided to make some Bombay potatoes too.  My partner's mother gave me a spice mix for Christmas and I decided it was time to utilize them.  I boiled some potatoes until they were tender, then I fried them in batches in hot oil, in my karahi.  At the last moment I chucked the spice mix in (which admittedly had far too many sesame seeds for my taste - such is the risk you take with pre-mixed sachets).  

Bombay Potatoes

As a final act of gluttony I decided to make some fresh poppadoms.  These I simply quick fried in very hot oil.  They are, of course, delightfully greasy. You can pretend to yourself that they are at least a little bit healthier when you drain them on some kitchen roll.

Poppadoms!

It was at this point that I noticed a critical error in my banquet.  I was about to embark on a totally vegetarian Indian evening.  The very concept of no meat charged me with kitchen rage, but by this time I had sunk 4 corona's.  Hey ho.  Veggie it was.

That is not salt.  It is a delightful glean on my daal.

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