Japanese curry

 

 

When you think curry, the first place that comes to mind is probably India followed by the UK and finally South East Asia with its multicolored variations.

What many of you might not know is that curry can be considered one of Japan's national dishes due to its popularity. It is served with rice, noodles or even as a soup and can be made with an incredible range of ingredients. This extremely widespread dish was introduced by the British back in the 19th century (the British Navy used to add curry powder to their otherwise traditional stews) and has become a more Westernized version of Indian curry as a result. Curry rice is probably the most popular kind (so much so that it is commonly just called curry) and is usually made with beef, pork or chicken and vegetables like carrots, potatoes and onions (but peas and mushrooms are popular too). Although it was originally cooked by preparing a roux with flour, oil and curry powder, nowadays adding instant roux - sold in blocks or powder - to the meat and vegetable stew is the most common way to make it. The blocks look like chocolate bars and come in varying degrees of spiciness: mild, medium hot and very hot.

 

 

 

 

The first time I had Japanese curry was in the early Nineties. My flatmate had sublet her room for the summer, I was still finishing my last exams at university before summer vacation, and so for a few weeks I crossed paths with a sweet, shy Japanese girl called Keiko. She was in Milan for the summer to study fashion design and one evening she said she would make us dinner. Those were the days when there were two, maybe three Japanese restaurants in town. The Japanese food trend had not caught on yet and the strange ingredients (raw fish! seaweed!) and high prices were eyed suspiciously by my friends. When a craving for sushi hit I usually went out to dinner with an English friend but it was not something we could do that often on a student budget. Naturally, I was over the moon at the thought of eating authentic Japanese food right in my very own kitchen.

 

 

A more liquid version you could eat with noodles

 

The last thing I expected upon entering the apartment, however, was the smell of curry. Keiko smiled at my surprised expression and explained it was one of her family's favorite meals. I dug in enthusiastically and loved it from the first bite.

 

Since then it has become a favorite of mine too. Back in the day I had to go to the only Japanese food store around to buy it and it was quite pricey. Now I can pretty much buy it in any Asian grocery (which have sprung up like mushrooms alongside the many Japanese restaurants in the city - there are at least 6 of them in a 5 minute walking radius from our apartment now) for under 5 euro and can whip up an authentic Japanese meal in under an hour!

 

It is one of those perfect pantry items to always have handy: it is simple to make, it is a crowd pleaser and an inexpensive and easy option to feed a large group. If you are not a meat lover, you can make a vegetarian/pescatarian version with shrimp or your favorite vegetables.

 

Of love and of loss - Chicken Tikka Masala

 

 

This has been an extraordinary week, and as I start writing this post it is only halfway through.

 

Extraordinary as in "out of the ordinary" not " unusually great".

 

F and I spent the first two days of it sitting sweat-drenched in stiff, ceremonial outfits in the midst of a heatwave.
 

On Monday we wore the colors of mourning to say goodbye to an old friend. Needless to say, his departure was unexpected, shocking, painful and happened much too soon.

 

It is very different when you bid your farewell to a person that has lived a long, rich life. It is still extremely sad, but you know it is their time, it is part of the circle of life.

 

When, on the other hand, you sit in a pew surrounded by all the people who were a part of your formative years and you see grown men (and women) cry their eyes out, something is very wrong. You almost hear an unfinished life coming to a screaching halt. There is just grief, no comprehension. You feel the weight of injustice on your shoulders; as the priest talks you remember facial expressions, words said, moments spent together that had gone lost somewhere in your subconscious. While you sit in that church it seems everyone is suddenly a good friend... no, your best friend. You are all connected on an intimate level, you share that pain. Everyone has an air of empathy and well meaning. You mentally promise each other you will never forget, you will share the precious memories, you will be better friends, companions, parents, children from now on. You hug, you exchange tissues and bare a part of your soul you usually never let anyone see. And even if you pretend not to notice them, you feel the cold fingers of fear creaping up around your hairline at the mere thought that it could have been you. For days after you spend large amounts of your time being incredibly aware of and thankful for the beauty that surrounds you.

 

So yes, that was Monday.

Raw from the experience of the previous day and a tad unwilling, on Tuesday we donned the colors of summer. I stepped into a flowy, light dress and F replaced his somber tie with a bright one. We didn't even turn on the radio on the drive up to the wedding, our hearts were so heavy. Then, as we neared the mountains and crossed the border into another country, our mood got lighter and we started feeling almost elated.

The sky was blue, the lake sparkled in the sun and the beauty of the landscape enchanted us. Once more we silently thanked someone/something for the breathtaking world we live in.
 

It did us good to see a new family being created after seeing a broken family the day before. It is good for the soul to counterbalance salty tears of grief with the sweeter ones of sentiment. It soothes to see love, to see different cultures, religions, races come together instead of clashing. It helps to be reminded by an exchange of rings, or an email (you know who you are, thank you), how much love there is in the world and how brief our journey through it is.

 

 

It was wonderful to dig our feet into the sand, to see the white of a wedding day spruced up by the bright, warm colors of Africa. Hips in vibrant prints jiggled to the beat of drums, we did the conga to '80s disco music and during the cutting of the cake, an ancient song bid peace to be upon us. Evenu shalom alejem.
 
I felt guilty on my way to the wedding, like I was not  mourning my friend appropriately. But now I know I did what he loved most: I celebrated the awesomeness that is life, in good and bad. I celebrated friendship, I drank champagne, I danced barefoot in the sand. And by doing this I celebrated his life too.

This one is for you, my friend.

 

 

Indian cooking is a bit like life: a mix of contrasting ingredients and flavors. Spicy, sour, sweet, cool earthy. It is all about balacing these flavors to reach the sublime.

I used to be really intimidated by the enormous list of ingredients most Indian recipes require, but the truth is that once you invest in the basic, pantry-friendly range of spices called for, many favorites are just at an arm's reach.

Recipe from Indiaphile

Garlic miso chicken wings

 

 

 

Chirp, chirp, chirp.

 

My exchange with my interlocutor was abruptly interrupted by a cricket. What was a cricket doing in my office in the center of Milan? I ignored it and kept arguing my point.

 

Chirp, chirp, chirp.

 

Boy was this little guy insistent. And loud.

 

Chirp, chirp, chirp.

 

Suddenly I was in my pjs, under a warm duvet and it was raining outside.

 

Chirp, chirp, chirp.

 

I reached for my phone and turned off the alarm. I listened to the pouring rain and willed myself to get up.

 

As I dragged myself to the bathroom I was surprised how tired I felt. I went out last night but I got home early and didn't even have a glass of wine. I must be getting old, I thought as I yawned.

 

After showering and dressing, I dragged myself down the stairs. I opened the front door and looked out: still raining, but not too much, and the sky looked light and promising.

 

I slipped on my rain cape and biked to work. When I got there, I was happy to be one of the first to park my bike. On a rainy day this did not come as a surprise, but still I was happy knowing I wouldn't have to wrangle my bike out of the knot of handlebars and bike locks when I went home in the afternoon.

 

 

I moaned when I saw the front door to the building was still locked. The last thing I felt like was looking for my keys in my bag under my cape in the rain. It was certainly not the first time I had arrived before the concierge, but it usually only happens when I get to the office at 7:00am, not on the days I go at 7:30am like today. She probably got stuck somewhere waiting for a less crowded bus. That is why I prefer my bike, especially in the rain, I thought smugly.

 

However, when I got up to my floor and noticed the slip in the door that night surveillance leaves after their customary check I got suspicious. I badged to open the door and in front of me stretched a long, omniously dark hallway. Everything was quiet. I turned on the lights and walked to my office wondering if I had slept through some apocalyptic event. Or was I still dreaming?

 

And then it hit me. I checked my watch.

 

6:25am.

 

Yup. I'm that girl in the romantic comedy that does stupid things that you scoff at with your friends. "Yeah right, like anybody in real life would be stupid enough to get up, get ready and go to work without ever looking at their watch or noticing it was the crack of dawn!".

 

Only, when that girl does it she is cute and funny (and beautiful and in her early twenties). I am just a sleep deprived forty year-old with ruffled hair and bags under my eyes.

 

 

 

  

I am the idiot who set the wrong alarm on my phone, the one right on top of the one I wanted, the one  I noramlly set to go running. The one that rings exactly an hour earlier.

 

In my defence, despite the fact that I am wearing a turtleneck to work today (I am serious), it is spring and it is already light at 6:10am and there was enough traffic to not make me suspicious. And it was raining and I was wearing a rain hood under my helmet and so I was not really looking around enjoying my ride, taking in the details. So yeah, in my defence...

Totally unrelated, but delicious nonetheless, here is a great go-to recipe from Nami's blog, Just One Cookbook. I am sure you already know her but just in case you don't, I highly suggest you visit her RIGHT. NOW.

I have already made these twice. The first time I used a ckicken breast that I cut into bite-size pieces and then skewered, yakitori style. Very good, except I mixed red and white miso paste as suggested, but my red miso paste is really strong and it left a bit of a bitter after taste. This time I went the chicken-wing way because we all love our crispy chicken skin here and only used white miso and it resulted in a more delicate flavor.

Thai cold rice noodle salad with chicken, lime and peanut sauce

It has been really hot here.

The "36°C at 7:00pm in the evening" kind of hot.
The "I-feel-like-I-peed-in-my-pants-after-biking-home" kind of hot.
The "only wear very dark or very light tops to work" kind of hot.
The "my-thighs-just-got-stuck-to-the-waiting-room-faux-leather-sofa" kind of hot.
The "I-keep-finding-my-son's-discarded-diapers-around-the-house" kind of hot. (Yes, we tried potty training when that started but realized very quickly it was purely a desire to cool off his Netherlands, not a sign of wanting to use a toilet).
The "opening-the-fridge-just-to-cool-off" kind of hot.

Like many apartments in old Italian buildings, we do not have air conditioning. With a just-turned three-year old who loves looking out of the window, we pretty much have to keep either our windows or shutters closed to avoid accidents, unless we are in the room. We did buy universal window catches to protect our children, but it seems that our seemingly standard 1920s window frames somehow do not fit the definition of "universal". Last but not least, I don't think our landlady would appreciate us screwing white plastic guards into her grandmother's beautiful wood pannelled window frames. So that sort of rules out the possibility of exploiting our apartment's double exposure and the lovely current it creates.

As a result, we have been drinking a lot of water. We have been lying around in our underwear loungewear like dead leaves. The kids have been splashing around a lot in the bathtub. Luckily we have ceiling fans, although the pretty period molded ceilings are so high, we only catch a slight breeze at top speed.

So now you know why my most recent pinning has involved lots of salads, ice cream recipes and South East Asian influences recipes. Since I feel the need for fresh, cool and crunchy ingredients, a lot of those recipes will be coming your way in the near future.

Today's recipe is courtesy of Smitten Kitchen, who did the hard work of converting complicated, laborious restaurant food into something more accessible for home cooks. The preparation is actually much simpler than the list of ingredients and variety of steps would lead you to think, so read through it before you decide it is too much work. It really isn't, and if I say so you know it is true since I am the queen of simple and fast family-friendly recipes. The most laborious part was squeezing the limes (I used 8). Feel free to play around with the vegetables you prefer, just keep it crunchy.

Lemme just make sure it is al dente!

Filipino chicken adobo

Let's face it... sometimes you just cannot bear to eat another bowl of baby spinach, crunch on another carrot or steam another stalk of asparagus.

Sometimes you just need a punch of flavor and depth from your food, that je ne sais quoi. A sensory overload to give your tastebuds a jolt of pleasure after weeks of dullness, like a dirty dream in a 30-year marriage.

I have already stated that keeping your calorie count low does not necessarily mean boring. Luckily there are dishes that are full of character and tantalizing flavors (remember that ceviche?) without too many calories. Take this chicken adobo: tangy, pungent, briny, delicious. If you are looking for something to make your tastebuds sing, this will have them chanting a cappella. I used low sodium soy sauce and tried to avoid mopping up the sauce with rice to keep it reasonably light, concentrating more on the flavorful meat. My family was only too happy to step in for me.

This dish, that is considered one of the Philippines' national dishes, was originally borne from the necessity to preserve meat in the heat. When the Spanish colonized the islands back in the 16th century, they saw the indigenous population stewing their meat in vinegar and named this technique adobo, after their own tradition of marinating meats, although they have little in common. Filipino adobo is usually made with chicken and/or pork cooked in a liquid made with soy sauce, garlic, bay leaves, pepper corns and the key ingredient - vinegar.

I of course fell in love with Adam's version because you know I am always on the look out for an easy week night meal. His recipe, originally from April Bloomfield, requires using large quantities of garlic and ginger skin on, which also makes the former less aggressive. Once the garlic is cooked, it can easily be nudged out of the skin and eaten. The meal comes together really quickly, the only tricky part being browning the chicken, which took longer than I expected and turned out to be a little messy (meaning I had grease splattered all over my stove and counters. Next time I will use less oil). It is however really essential to get those flavors going, so don't skip it.

Oriental wisdom: one chicken, two meals for the body and soul

It is a real grey, wet Sunday. Rain, rain, rain.

As I am sitting in front of my computer sorting through the recipes I have lined up for you, I am listening to my kids playing in the other room. There is squealing and laughter. I hear some loud sounds, then a thud. More laughter. And then come the tears and shouting, one of the many fights between siblings that take place every hour at our house. I just checked on them a few minutes ago and restored the peace. I am not getting up again, they have to learn to sort things out on their own.

A car passes outside my window. I hear the water from a puddle splashing onto the sidewalk. It is good to be home. I listen to the familiar sound of the referee's whistle and the audience chanting and cheering on TV as F. lies on the couch in the living room watching the Sunday game.

Half of Italy is underwater this today, not just Venice. The levels of the Po river are rising alarmingly and many cities in Piedmont are at risk. Liguria, Genoa in particular, is on its knees. Hundreds of people are working and digging, the city is reacting. This will not bring back the people who died, it will not give the two children back the life that lay ahead of them. That is how the world goes. Some of us sit in the warmth and safety of our homes while others grieve the loss of their loved ones. Unfortunately this happens every day, everywhere.

But for today my thoughts go out to those families. In Genoa, in Naples, in Thailand.

This recipe warms the body, the heart, the soul. The chicken is tender, the broth savory and complex. On the first day, it is delicous on the rice you serve with the chicken. The second day it reaches a whole new level as a soup in its own standing, with little nuggets of meat, any seasonal vegetable you care to add and some noodles of choice.

It is true what they say, chicken soup for the body and for the soul.

When I saw this recipe posted on Not Quite Nigella, I knew I had to make it. She adapted it from a recipe published by Marion Grasby. Thanks Lorraine, thanks Marion! This has become a new family favorite.

Ingredients for chicken

1 bunch coriander/cilantro

garlic, 10 cloves

black peppercorns, about 10

5 whole star anise

a whole chicken

water

1/2 cup dark soy sauce (I used regular, my chicken didn't turn out as dark Lorraine's)

1/4 cup fish sauce

3 tbsp brown sugar 

rice

Ingredients for soup

Leftover stock (and chicken if you have any left) from chicken

pumpkin (I used some leftover roasted pumpkin)

Swiss chard

bonito flakes

udon noodles

Cut the coriander, roots and leaves, and set aside some leaves for garnish. Place the rest in a mortar with the peeled garlic and pepper and bash until you obtain a paste. In a large pot, preferably cast iron, cook the paste in a little vegetable oil for about a minute. Add the whole chicken and brown on each side. Next add in the soy sauce, the fish sauce, the star anise and the sugar. Then pour in enough cold water to cover or almost cover the chicken (if it doesn't, you can turn the chicken over halfway through).

Let  simmer for about one hour.  In the meantime cook or steam some white rice.

After an hour lift the chicken out of the stock and place on a serving plate and let it cool.

Save the stock and use it to make a soup, adding seasonal vegetables, noodles and sprinkling with some bonito flakes for that extra umami if you have any on hand.

Lorraine also suggests using the stock in the place of water to make a savory rice dish.

Oh, by the way, if you feel like playing a guessing game, hop on over here. Although if you read this blog, you already know the answer!

Jamie Oliver's curry

We spent most of Saturday backing up all of our digital photos on the new external hard drive we purchased and downloading tons of our old CDs onto my iPod. We have been meaning to do this for months, years actually, and somehow never got around to it. CDs and back-up DVDs fill entire drawers of our apartment. Isn't it weird that before all this technology we just had photographs and negatives, yet we did not live in constant fear of losing them? I mean, let's face it, paper is certainly more delicate then a hard drive, a DVD/CD or even the forerunner, the good 'ole floppy disk. Despite this, we never seemed worried about fires, burglars or a flood destroying all those special moments captured on film. Now I constantly think about what would happen if we lost all those precious mementos of our travels and our children growing up because of a theft or a simple tech problem. I still feel the need to print them out, because there is nothing like flipping through an actual photo album and because somehow the printed rectangle of paper seems safer than a small piece of plastic that contains my life.

So, anyhow, six hours later I was feeling pretty darn good about myself, until not one, but two girlfriends told me in rapid succession that they have two external hard disks: a portable one they take on their trips for safe keeping in case of theft or damage and to keep backing up whilst away from home and a larger one at home as their real back up.

So I am an old fart, there it is, plain and simple. I am not as savvy as I thought I was. I thought I was doing pretty well thanks to my techy husband, his knowledge and gifts. Thanks to my blog, my iPhone, my iPod, my Kindle, my digital cameras, plasma screens and so forth. I tweet, I Skype, I download Apps, I do FB. You name it, I've been there and done it. Or so I thought. The truth is, I was really only ahead of the game when I was 12, when I had to help my Nana set up her VCR, when I was a Space Invaders champ, when a Walk Man was the natural extension of my arm. I was still pretty much up there when I got my first Palm Pilot and snubbed my trustworthy Filofax, or when I could send a text message at the speed of light when most Americans didn't even own a cell phone yet. But now, I am my grandmother. Even my own mother is more high tech than I am these days. My father-in-law let me use his iPad last week end in Elba and my iPhone is his hand-me-down.

And there I was feeling good about my external hard drive and downloading the hundreds of CDs the rest of the world downloaded on their iPod about five years ago.

Another thing I was feeling good about was this curry.

I admit it, making curry is still new and exciting to me. Not cooking things with curry, I mean actually making it from scratch. It turns out it is pretty darn quick to make and easy too and I still can't get over the fact that I made this dish exclusively using household staples. Ok, so many of you are probably thinking turmeric isn't really a staple in their house, but believe me, if you stock up on the basic spices of Indian cuisine you can use them for endless recipes. They are pretty inexpensive (luckily this isn't the Middle Ages) and they keep for a long time if stored correctly. I came up with this great meal with a desperately empty fridge. Luckily I had a chicken breast in the freezer.

This curry is adapted from one of Jamie Oliver's many curry recipes. I know it is not the most authentic curry recipe, but Jamie has a way of making those of us who are not experts or who do not have an Indian mum feel a little less intimidated. I was missing a couple of the ingredients (lentils and red pepper) and kept it pretty mild for the kids, but it took only an hour to prep and cook and tasted fabulous.

But then again, maybe you have been making your own curry from scratch for years.

You will need a food processor or hand blender to make this.

Beer can chicken, Elba, awards and 7 facts

Last night I went to my college roomate's 40th birthday bash (don't even think about counting how old that makes me. I am still in my thirties...for now). It turned out to be one of those perfect evenings, the kind you cannot plan ahead, those parties where the vibe is just right, you know? I'm sure re-embracing old friends that I hadn't seen in way too long, the copious amounts of wine that were flowing and the high heels and party dresses contributed to making it special. And there was a young, handsome magician moving through the tables to entertain us who may or may not have cast a little spell, but in the end I'm pretty sure we make the magic when we are together. We did it back in the party days and we still do it now. Even the morning after is pretty much the same: too little sleep and a boulder where my head should be.

Here is what has changed: I could do it at twenty, I can't at forty thirty-something.

What I can do however is post a few shots from the island of Elba, an idea to roast your chicken differently, a few awards and 7 facts about me that you don't know, as per tradition.

 

 



A tiny seaside wedding we came across



Do you see the starfish decoration?

 

Remember when I made beer chicken a few weeks ago? Remember I mentioned that whilst googling recipes to make it I discovered something called beer can chicken? Well, if you don't, google the words chicken and beer, you will be inundated by directions on how to grill a chicken with a beer can stuck up its patootie. I do not own a BBQ and was thus quite disinterested until I read that you can make it in the oven too. My curiosity was piqued, I have to admit, so here are the results after reading a few of these recipes. The chicken was moist and the skin was out of this world, wonderfully crunchy and tasty, but we still prefer our go-to recipe for fall-of-the-bone tender meat.

Ingredients

1 chicken

1 beer can

rub or spices (optional)

Preheat oven to 400°F. Wash and dry the chicken (and the can of course) and then rub with your favorite combination of spices. Open the beer, pour out up to half the can and punch a few extra holes in it (I didn't...oops!). You can add some of the rub into the beer if you are so inclined. Place the beer can in a baking dish and arrange the chicken over it. Put it on the lowest rack of your oven. I suggest you cover the top of the bird with some tin foil for the first hour of cooking so it doesn't burn. After the first 1/2 hour, lower heat to 350°F and roast for approximately another 1 1/2 hours. When it is ready, take out and let rest for about 10 minutes. Then, using an oven mit and tongs or a fork, separate the chicken from the can. You can use the juices and beer to make gravy.

 

I was honored to receive a shower of awards from my blogging friends Pola, an Italian living in the States, and Moomser, an American at heart living in Italy. Thank you girls, I always look forward to reading your new posts. To honor these awards, you know it is traditional to write 7 facts about yourself that others may not know and to award other bloggers. I always like to try to pass them on to new blogs I have recently discovered and enjoy, but I love all of you (you know who you are). So here goes:

1. I am a freckle face. I tend to forget about it and do not see my freckles when I look into the mirror, but it is something you probably would mention to describe me.

2. I do not nap. Ever.

3. I prefer savory to sweet, I will choose a slice of prosciutto or a runny cheese over a piece of cake any day but I cannot imagine a world without chocolate (and related items such as brownies) and ice cream.

4. I am definitely a chocolate ice cream kinda gal as opposed to a vanilla one.

5. I got my driver's licence when I was 8 months pregnant. I actually got my US licence when I was 16 but growing up in Italy I never got a chance to drive automatic cars so it doesn't really count.

6. I studied law. I surprise myself everytime I remember this.

7. I love shoes and tend to buy sparkly make up that I don't wear.

I would like to pass these awards on to my latest discoveries:

Dinners and Dreams - delicious Maroccan recipes and beautiful photos

Sugar Plum - a girl with a dream: pastry school

Lucky number 13 - about motherhood, in lovely words and photos

Scary Mommy - the truth about being a mom, she says what you are thinking

Diary of a Ladybird - an oldie for me really, but she is back with something special baking in the oven

The Winter Guest - my latest discovery

Miri Leigh - fun, informational videos and lots of ideas