SAVE THE CHICKEN FOR YA CURRY

I wanted my first real meaty post to be nothing short of I am woman! Hear me roar! Try my curry! However, somewhere between the creation of my blog and gathering material for it, LIFE happened. I found myself in a relationship and then a series of breakups with the same man. Even a Bollywood flick would be jealous of our melodrama, meandering, and convoluted plot lines.

Suddenly all my tales of love and food, pieces I thought would be valuable blog fodder just didn’t seem relevant. So I put off writing recipes and did what any self-respecting woman would do. I sang along with Anna Kendrick’s rendition of You’re gonna miss me when I’m gone into my hairbrush in the privacy of my bedroom about kabazillion times. I spent hours bending my sister’s ears. I had my closest friends rally around me and we deciphered the failed relationship like it was the Da Vinci code. I re-read Melissa Bank’s “The Girls’ Guide to Hunting to Fishing”, always my go-to book post relationship maleficence (it’s the literary equivalent of cookie dough, something I ceremoniously consume only after breakups for comfort). In short, I went through the steps needed to purge myself of the woes and blues afflicting the heart. However, as the days went on and I gained insight and support, the one thing I couldn’t seem to retrieve was my appetite. Break my heart. Squash my dreams. But steal my appetite? Oh hellz no!

And then it happened. The post-apocalyptic conversation with the EX that sets a woman straight. I’m listening to him give me his version of why and how things went wrong. But all I kept hearing is bok bok bok bok. CHICKEN! Bok bok bok. The conversation drove home a very potent realization: he would always be too cowardly when it came to taking responsibility for his feelings and actions. Sure, he was manly in many ways. But he was pure chicken in the ways that mattered most.

After talking to him I felt the peace to love and let go. I begrudgingly admitted to myself that I had been dating a chicken and that I had enabled his chickenosity (that’s not a real word until now, folks) because it was easier. Yes. I had allowed myself to engage in a 10 month love affair with poultry.

Realizing this gave me my I am WOMAN, hear me ROAR moment. And then I realized, no no, the roaring was my belly. I was hungry dammit. I was finally hungry! The break-up had made me not eat for weeks. Ok. A WEEK. But that’s like doggy years for me. I was craving comfort food. If my western counterparts needed chicken soup for the soul, then I needed chicken tharkari (curry) complete with aloo (potatoes) and savory, spiced jhola (curry gravy). I needed to make my Bou’s (“mother” in Odia) recipe and fill myself up, literally, with nothing but goodness.

With appetite back in tow and the desire to return to the kitchen and cook up some comfort, I had another epiphany, one that wasn’t as palatable as Bou’s curries. It dawned on me that he wasn’t the only one who was a chicken. I had been one, too.

I knew during many points of our relationship that some things just didn’t add up. I always had gnawing feelings that we were trying to mold one another into people we weren’t at the present and possibly may never be. There were certain expectations that I had that I never uttered simply because I didn’t want to be deemed that girl. But what was I so scared of? Another failed relationship? Or that if I didn’t say it out loud I limited the risk of being disappointed? Or that if I put certain expectations out in the cosmos and he wasn’t willing to meet them, then we’d be over? That I would have the answer I didn’t want but secretly knew? Bok bok bok bok bok.

Somewhere along the line I had chickened out. I had chickened out of laying everything out on the table. I had chickened out of saying in no uncertain terms that I did or did not want very important things. Chicken, chicken, chicken. There was a chicken epidemic going on in New York and I’m here to save you from it.

Now come closer to your computer screen and have this wisdom seared in your cranium, men and women alike. This took some months for me to get and you’re getting this for free; repeat after me, concerning chicken: YA DON’T DATE, YA MARINATE! And DON’T BE A CHICKEN. Cook some chicken! I know, I know, you are what you eat, right? Wrong. What if it’s as easy as allocation. Save the chicken for ya curry and then be a MAN or be a WOMAN, well hopefully always, but particularly during those pivotal moments when it really matters. I’m sharing Bou’s chicken tharkari recipe with you. Cook this. Eat this. Take the time to marinate your chicken. Take the time to make the jeera masala. Making all the pastes from scratch make a difference. The bursts of flavor will slap the stupid out from you.  It’s not the quickest curry recipe, but it’s worth it. All the good stuff takes a little time though it may take you a coupla tries to get it right. I don’t even know if we’re talking about curry any more. But I will say, fill yourself up with all kinds of love and comfort so you can go forth and tell your man or tell your woman, this is me, take me or leave me as I am. And if you get left for saying so, is that so bad in the grand scheme of things?

DON'T BE A CHICKEN. Enjoy the spicy life!

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JEERA MASALA
Yield = 1 ½ cups

Ingredients

• 1 medium onion, chopped
• 2 ounces ginger, peeled and diced
• 8 garlic pods
• 1 tablespoon whole cumin seeds
• 2 teaspoons whole coriander seeds
• 2 dry chilies
• 4 ounces cold tap water

How to throw down:

1. Place all the ingredients in blender. Blend until paste consistency forms.
2. Transfer paste to a jar or container and store in the refrigerator if not using immediately. To maintain the integrity of your jeera masala, do not refrigerate and use longer than 1 week; at most, you can stretch it out for ten days. You can keep it in the freezer for up to 3 months.

BOU’S CHICKEN THARKARI

Serves 4

Chicken Merrynade (Its like marinade. Get it now?) Ingredients
 

• 3 pounds chicken thighs, skin removed and halved

• 2 tablespoons sour cream

• 1 tablespoon grated ginger

• 1 teaspoon ground turmeric

• 1 teaspoon kosher salt

Tharkari Ingredients

• 3 tablespoons canola oil

• 2 whole cinnamon sticks

• 2 bay leaves

• 1 small onion, thinly sliced

• 1/2 teaspoon ground turmeric

• ¼ cup jeera masala (see recipe above)

• ½ pound potatoes, quartered

• 12 ounces water (you can use chicken stock, too)

• 1 teaspoon garam masala

 How to throw down:

1. Combine all ingredients of chicken merrynade in a mixing bowl. Marinate for at least 2 hours.

2.  Heat a heavy bottom pot over high heat on the stove.

3.  Once the pot is hot (takes about 2 minutes) add 2 tablespoons oil. Heat oil for 2 minutes.

4.  Add cinnamon sticks and bay leaves. Stir. Cook for 2 minutes.

5.   Add onions and turmeric and saute for 3 minutes. Reduce heat to medium. Add jeera masala and stir to mix.

6.  Add remaining 1 tablespoon oil to pot and continue sauteing masalas for 2 to 3 more minutes.

7.  Add marinated chicken to pot. Return heat to high. Stir to mix, making sure chicken pieces are evenly coated with masalas. Sauté for 10 minutes.

8.  Add potatoes to pot. Stir. Cook for 3 to 4 minutes.

9.  Add water or stock to pot. Bring to a boil, cover, and reduce heat to medium-high. Simmer for 10 to 12 minutes.

10. Add garam masala and stir to combine. Reduce heat to medium-low and keep cover off. Continue simmering for another 5 minutes.

11.  Remove pot from heat and transfer to serving dish.