When I read the ingredients list for tonight's dish, Curried Chicken, I was concerned about the wee, almost homeopathic amounts of spices. An eighth of a teaspoon of powdered ginger? Three-fourths of a teaspoon of salt? Do I wave the spice jars near the pot and declare it "imbued with essence"? But part of this adventure is not letting common sense get in the way of a vintage recipe--I have to make it as accurately as possible, given time and ingredient restraints.
The sauce was simple, again a variation on a white sauce, and the recipe called for the curried chicken to be served over rice, so I tweaked the flavor of the basmati rice by using chicken broth in place of water. The curry turned out a lovely light lemon-yellow, creamy of sauce and, as I'd feared, nearly devoid of flavor. (Remember, in 1961 in the United States, a curry this bland was seriously exotic food.)
As we dined to a soundtrack of Bollywood movie music Sous-Chef added raisins to her curry; Tallboy made his palatable by a liberal dusting of coriander and cayenne. I ate mine unadorned, and Niblet hoovered up a couple of helpings, carefully segregating her rice from any taint of curry sauce.
I'd make this again, but I'd add more curry spices. Great heaping fistfuls of curry spices.
Posted by Nukegirl at January 30, 2008 10:43 AM