If there's one thing that pisses me off to no end (admittedly, there are millions; but I like the phrase "If there's one thing…" -- it makes me appear more reasonable and equanimity-prone than I really am), it's having to make special requests when dining at Mexican, Thai, Indian, and Hunan/Szechuan restaurants. Not only do I feel every bit the whiny, prissy asshole when doing so; said requests inconvenience the already overworked kitchen staff.
Sadly, I find myself doing so more and more. You see, Gentle Reader; when I order a hot dish, I expect it to be hot. And if I don’t break a sweat whilst packin' that sucker away; it ain't hot enough. Like my late Granddaddy, who wouldn't even think of sitting down to a plate of kale, collards or turnip greens without a bottle of Tabasco sauce, I'm a "chile-head." As, however, those vicious slags, Urd, Verdande, and Skuld are inclined to weave wicked wyrd; I'm trapped in a yuppified, honkified, culinary Twilight Zone.
Case in point: During our tenure at the Beacon, the wife and I investigated a claim that various and sundry agencies had treated Roswell's justly famed Moksha Indian Restaurant in a callous, high-handed fashion whilst constructing the Westside Parkway. We interviewed the general manager, ran the story, and got a free lunch for our trouble.
Make no mistake: Moksha serves top-notch Sub-continental cuisine. For all that it caters to the mamby-pamby tastes of faux-cosmopolitan "BoBos," the fare ain't bad by a long shot. It's tasty -- and there's no denying it. "Tasty" and "authentic," however, are not synonyms, as Mags and I discovered.
This brings us to another boring (if relevant) digression. My ball and chain "better half," one Margarita Rosita Rosario Santa Maria Santa Claus del Polo Nuerte Gonzalez y Ybarra y Ibanez y El Cid Matamoros y Chingate y Turaluralu-Turlalurale Talamantes by name, is rather fond of Mexican food. Yeah I know -- there's a shock, right? Anyhoo, whilst grocery shopping one morning, she developed an acute craving for burritos de carnitas. Now the neighborhood in which we shop is predominately Mexican, Korean and Vietnamese. The markets in that neck of the woods carry products the bigger chains won't touch with a ten-foot pole. They also sell them cheaply, as -- contrary to popular belief -- most recent immigrants aren't rolling in cash.
While we were checking out, Mags asked the cashier if he could recommend a good Mexican restaurant. Unsurprisingly, he could and did. I won't divulge the name because I don’t want the place getting mobbed, but it's down on Buford Highway -- good sign #1. When we entered the dining room, I noticed that I was the only White guy there. As a matter of fact, except for a West African (judging by their accents) couple a few tables away, everyone was Mexican -- good sign #2. Upon receiving our order, we sat down and commenced to stuffin' our faces. The burritos were fantastic, and exactly the way Mags likes them. (And you should see her putting one together at home: beans, rice, meat, salsa, Mexican cream when we can get it -- or sour cream when we can't; the whole nine yards. Moreover, she stuffs 'em so full; we practically have to use rubber bands to keep the tortillas closed.) At the meal's conclusion, she pronounced the place "authentic" -- and I spent the next week learning to cook burritos de carnitas.
One of the most flattering things Mags has ever said to me is that my Mexican food tastes like her mother's. If this is the case (and she's not just being a sweetie pie), it's because I usually cook from scratch, and I'm not afraid of spices. (Not to brag -- well, yeah, this is to brag -- I've actually done the matagringos bit in my time: flame-roasted habaneros dipped in salt and scarfed down hot off the grill. This brings us to the essence of my complaint. Although Moksha is a fine restaurant, the food is considerably milder than the Indian fare I encountered in London when I was younger. And once again, it's not the fault of the restaurant -- they're simply catering to American tastes. Sadly, though, many Indian cookbooks do likewise. A notable exception to the rule is Khalid Aziz's Encyclopedia of Indian Cooking. I like Aziz's book for several reasons, but most of all because he doesn't water down or wimpify the recipes. If a given dish calls for a full teaspoon of cayenne and a few sliced green chiles, then so be it.
Over the last seventeen years, I've used The Encyclopedia of Indian Cooking as a textbook. By sampling different variations on the "staples," if you will, I've learned a great deal about different regional cuisines. (I've also learned that there are as many ways to prepare a typical Indian dish as there are Indian cooks. This is to say that recipes vary from region to region, village to village, and even house to house. ) In that time, I've also experimented with and "tweaked" various recipes, altering the spice mixtures to suit my own tastes and needs.
What follows are a few of my own recipes. First and foremost, let me warn you that they're hot. Very hot. They are, however, delicious. Anyone can toss a few Scotch Bonnets into a trough of slop and brag about the "heat" of the dish. The following entrees and sides, though, are both hot and savory. Give 'em a try. If you like good spicy food, you won't be disappointed.
Dave's Badass, Guaranteed-to-Put-Hair-on-Yer-Chest Lentil Curry
1 cup dry lentils
3 cups water or broth
1 small potato, diced
2 carrots, diced
1 onion, minced
3 cloves garlic, minced
4 whole cardamoms
4 whole cloves
1 x 2" stick cinnamon
1" piece ginger root, minced
2 green chiles, sliced
1 tsp ground, roasted coriander
1 tsp ground, roasted cumin
1 bay leaf
1 tsp turmeric
1 tsp paprika
1 tsp black pepper
1 tsp cayenne pepper
½ tsp ground fenugreek
1 tsp salt
1 tbsp butter, ghee, or vegetable oil
1 tbsp sesame oil
Heat oils in Dutch oven or large saucepan. Add onion, garlic, ginger, carrot and potato. Saute over medium heat until onion is translucent. Add all spices (except salt and green chiles), sauté 1 minute. Add lentils and water or broth; stir well. Heat to boiling, then cover and reduce heat to lowest setting. Simmer until lentils are tender and liquid is absorbed, 35-40 minutes. Stir in salt and green chiles during last five minutes of cooking. Serve warm.
Cucumber Raeta
2 cups plain yogurt
1 English or two pickling cukes
2T mint or cilantro -- or 1T of each
1 scallion, thinly sliced
2 cloves garlic, minced
¼ t cayenne
¼ t paprika
½ t ground cumin
1t salt
½ t black pepper
Split cukes lengthwise. Scoop out seeds. Cut into ¼" dice. Place cuke chunks in glass, plastic, or stainless steel bowl. Add all other ingredients. Stir well and refrigerate 1-2 hours before serving.
Onion Chutney
1 large onion, diced
1 clove garlic, minced
2t each mint and cilantro, shredded
1t salt
1t cumin seed, roasted
1t ginger root, minced
1t black pepper
½ t cayenne
Juice of one lemon
Mix all ingredients. Refrigerate 1-2 hours.
Zucchini Curry
2 zucchini, marrows, or other summer squash, sliced ¼" thick
1 onion, chopped
1 clove garlic, minced
1t salt
¼ t garam masala
¼ t Madras-style curry powder
1t black pepper
½ t turmeric
¼ t cayenne
2t dried, shredded coconut
2T butter, ghee, or vegetable oil
Heat oil in skillet or wok. Add onion and garlic. Sautee until onion is translucent. Add spices and stir-fry until garlic and onion are well coated, and spices release aroma. Add squash and stir-fry until slices are coated. Add water 1T at a time, if necessary. Cook until squash slices are crisp-tender -- approximately five minutes. Serve warm.
Parsi-Style Scrambled Eggs
6 eggs
3T butter, ghee, or vegetable oil
1 onion, diced
1 clove garlic, minced
1 tomato, seeded and diced
1" piece ginger, minced
2T Cilantro, shredded
2 green chiles, thinly sliced (seeded and deveined if one happens to be cooking for girly-man poofters…)
1t salt
1t black pepper
1t turmeric
½ t cumin
½ t paprika
½ t cayenne
Heat oil in wok, skillet or Dutch oven. Add onion, garlic, ginger, chiles and tomato. Sautee until onion is translucent. Break and beat eggs. Whisk in salt, spices and cilantro. Pour egg mixture into pan and scramble until eggs are well set. Serve piping hot.
Three-Bean Salad
1 can garbanzos, rinsed and drained
1 can black-eyed peas or crowder/field peas, rinsed and drained
1 can kidney beans, rinsed and drained
1 onion, chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
1t cumin
½ t ground coriander
2 green chiles, thinly sliced
1T salad or sesame seed oil
1t salt
2T chopped cilantro
1t black pepper
2+T lemon juice, or to taste
Place chopped onion in glass, stainless steel, or plastic bowl. Whisk oil, garlic, salt, and spices together. Pour over onion. Mix well. Add legumes, cilantro, and lemon juice. Stir until fart-fuel is well coated. Refrigerate 1-2 hours and serve.
