A dark and mysterious curry

This post is for curry lovers with time on their hands – that is, if they want to try the recipes I've provided this time. The effort, however, is so worthwhile as the results will be just delicious!

We live in an area with a high concentration of takeaway shops and restaurants. We receive two to four menus through the door every day, of which probably around half are for curry. Many of the curry houses are advertising Bangladeshi cuisine, from where we particularly enjoy the spicy and flavoursome dishes made with naga chillies and the rezala curries. Recently, though, we have been trying more food from the other widely available cuisine in this area – Sri Lankan.

Sri Lankan curries have a distinctive aromatic quality. Although we felt we could identify many of the spices involved, through taste and sometimes appearance (curry leaves and cinnamon sticks), we couldn’t quite put our fingers on what it was that built up those extra layers of flavour. Luckily, Charmaine Solomon’s The Complete Asian Cookbook came to the rescue. The author explained that the base of many Sri Lankan curries is dark-roasted curry powders, and that it is this roasting process that develops the characteristic richness and complexity.

As I have mentioned before, home-made curries feature heavily in the cookery repertoire of this household. Thus, since the book provided a recipe for a basic Sri Lankan curry powder (see below), I had to have a go. Further optional ingredients are 2 tsp chilli powder and 2 tbsp rice flour. I didn’t use them because I didn’t have any and I knew I was going to use fresh chillies in the curry, and I didn’t feel the overall effect would be changed vastly by their exclusion. Nevertheless, I feel I should mention them for completeness. Several points are important to highlight for the powder preparation. First, the time it takes for the different spices to colour varies quite widely, so don’t be tempted to try to roast them together. Second, the coriander seeds take a long time to colour, so be patient and keep the heat low. Third, do stir the spices constantly, even for the small amounts, as they can change from colouring to being burned very quickly.

I used the curry powder to make a slow-cooked lamb curry because we were able to get some lovely reduced-price leg and rump steaks. Full price, however, lamb is ridiculously expensive, and even cut price it’s a bit of a treat. Luckily, beef, is widely used in Sri Lankan cooking and will go very well with this sauce, so I will be using that in the future.

I have provided below instructions for the powder as I did it and for a beef curry in which to use it. Of course, every household in Sri Lanka probably has its own curry powder variation, so do feel free to experiment. Be warned, though, with all that roasting and grinding, 2 days later I could still get a waft of curry scent on opening the kitchen door. If you know someone who doesn’t like it, you might want to make sure they don’t visit for a while!

Sri Lankan dark-roasted curry powder

1 cup coriander seeds

Half cup cumin seeds

1 tbsp fennel seeds

1 tsp fenugreek seeds

2 inch cinnamon stick/half tsp ground cinnamon

1 tsp whole cloves

1 tsp cardamom seeds

2 tbsp dried curry leaves

Separately roast the coriander, cumin, fennel, and fenugreek seeds in a dry pan over a low heat. Stir constantly until the spices have turned a dark golden brown colour, being careful not to let them burn. Allow the roasted spices to cool, then use a blender or spice grinder to powder them, in batches if necessary, with the remaining ingredients. Store the finished powder in an airtight container.

Sri Lankan beef curry

Serves 4-6

2.5 tbsp ghee or oil

3 medium onions, finely chopped

2 tbsp fresh root ginger, peeled and finely chopped

4-5 cloves garlic, peeled and finely chopped

1 tsp ground turmeric

2 tsp black mustard seeds

4 tbsp dark-roasted curry powder

Salt to taste

1 tbsp vinegar 

500-600 g stewing steak, trimmed and cut into 1 inch cubes

(alternatively, use lamb leg and/or lamb rump steak)

3 fresh red chillies, seeded and chopped

3 large ripe tomatoes chopped

In a large saucepan gently fry the onions, ginger and garlic in the ghee or oil until golden. Add the turmeric, mustard seeds and curry powder. Fry over low heat for 2-3 min. Add the salt and vinegar and stir well. Add the meat and fry until browned, stirring to ensure it is well coated. Add the chillies and tomatoes. Cover with a lid and simmer on very low heat for about 2 h.

Go just that little bit further

While I have never been extravagant and was brought up to make do and mend (which I actually rather enjoyed), it is true that during the boom of the early 2000s I shed some degree of frugality. In the rather more bust current economic climate, where money is a bit tighter and the price of food is a lot higher, I can feel those old instincts resurfacing.

I don’t really do retail therapy in a spend-hours-cooing-over-clothes-shoes-and-make-up sense. Food shopping is what does it for me. I’m not talking about seeking out the fine or the rare; I understand the best food comes from selecting the best ingredients, but I’m running a house, not a restaurant. My buzz comes from getting more for less while keeping our food nutritious, tasty and exciting.

I have a three-pronged approach to trimming the spending: multi-buys (eg, three for the price of two, or mix and match for a set price); buying fresh food that is reduced because it is nearing its sell-by date; and buying low-cost products to make the more-expensive things and leftovers go as far as possible. In relation to the first tactic, do beware of offers. As a recent Panorama revealed, they are not always what they seem and, if you’re really not careful, they can increase the cost. Keeping track of prices other than by online comparison sites might also land you in hot water, as this article shows. Nevertheless, with a little time, research and planning, you can pull back those pennies and look after the pounds.

I recently found a reduced-price pack of stewing steak. As you might have read, I’m not averse to a bit of slow cooking. The pack wasn’t very large, but it was rather generous to feed two people for one meal, so decided to stretch it to four portions.

I opted to use two ingredients that go very well with beef: tomatoes and chickpeas. The latter is a particularly useful item in my food-stretching armamentarium, although tinned chickpeas have roughly doubled in price over the past year, meaning they are not necessarily the cheap option they should be. To solve this problem I have started buying dried chickpeas and rehydrating batches as I want them. This method saves me about 60% on the price, which drops them right back into the cheap zone. The preparation of dried chickpeas is a long old job, it is true. They need to be soaked in cold water for several hours – at least 4 h, although I find 8-10 h better – then boiled for 2-2.5 h before use. Once cooked, though, they can be kept in the fridge in some water and in an airtight container for a few days, so they could be prepared over the weekend for use mid-week. For the tomato flavour I used passata, which can be bought extremely cheaply.

The finished casserole was probably akin to stifado crossed with a tagine – that is to say it was extremely flavoursome. Each portion does contain only a few pieces of the beef, but the flavour of the meat is detectable throughout the sauce and the chickpeas make it satisfying enough for any carnivore. I have suggested a recipe for flavoured couscous to accompany this casserole, but it’s also great with mashed potatoes.

Happy bargain hunting. It's a great way to inspire you to try new things when an offer is too good to miss.

Spicy beef and chickpea casserole with couscous

Serves 4

For the casserole

350 g diced stewing steak

1 large carrot chopped into 1.5 cm pieces

1 medium onion

1 stick celery

2 cloves garlic

2 red chillies

1 tsp ground cumin

1 tsp ground coriander

1 tsp paprika

Half tsp turmeric

250 ml beef stock

500 g passata

350 g chickpeas

Salt and pepper

For the couscous

200 g couscous

240 ml boiling water

100 g frozen peas

Juice of half a lemon

2 tsp dried mint

1 tsp dried parsley

Salt and pepper

Heat the oven to 160ºC/325ºF/gas mark 3. Sear the meat in a hot frying pan a few pieces at a time to avoid reducing the heat in the pan, and place the browned meat in a large casserole dish along with the raw carrots. Use half of the beef stock to deglaze the pan and pour the liquid into the casserole dish. Gently fry the onion, celery, chillies and garlic until the onion is softened and translucent but not browned. Add the spices and cook for a few minutes more, stirring constantly. Transfer the vegetables to the casserole dish then deglaze the pan with the remaining beef stock and add the liquid to the casserole. Pour over all the passata, season well and stir. Cover and cook in the oven for 1.5 h then add the chickpeas and a little water. Cook covered for a further 1-1.5 h until the beef is tender and the sauce is thick.

Remove the casserole from the oven and leave to stand while you prepare the couscous. Put all the ingredients in a heat-proof bowl and leave to stand for 5-7 min until all the water is absorbed. Adjust the seasoning if necessary and serve.

An all-round good dodge

We don’t really buy biscuits. In fact, I can’t remember the last time we did. In no way am I averse to biscuits. In fact, a chocolate Hobnob or any in the range of Digestives is most welcome with my cup of tea. Nevertheless, biscuits are just not items that grace our shopping baskets.

If we fancy some biscuits, I generally knock up a batch of ginger nuts from a 1990s Cranks recipe. They are generous, crunchy-on-the-outside-chewy-on-the-inside cookies and are a particular favourite of the delectable Mr M. However, a bit of variety is always good, and I have been looking for a good alternative recipe for a while.

I tried making this lemon biscuit recipe from JamieOliver.com, but Jamie Oliver recipes and I frequently do not get along. This was no exception. I tried them twice and they looked appetising enough – they are in fact shown in my profile picture – but the texture and taste were awful. I thought it was me. After all, despite being able to bake decent cakes and scones, I have my troubles with bread and pastry. I took heart, however, from my ginger nut expertise and persevered.

I decided one day to make cupcakes but thought I’d have a look around the internet for inspiration beforehand. I spend quite a lot of time looking online at the myriad recipes of something I want to try and descriptions of techniques about which I want to learn; I suppose it’s my version of reading cookery books. In the middle of the list of seemingly endless cupcake variations popped up a recipe for jammy dodgers.

The branded biscuits, Jammie Dodgers, made by Burton’s Foods, hold much nostalgia for children of the 1980s. They comprise two plain cookies, the top one of which has a heart-shaped hole that reveals the red jam sandwiching them together. Simple but scrumptious! Somehow I had never thought of making these biscuits at home, but it suddenly dawned on me that they should be pretty simple.

They were, and there was something deeply satisfying about the resultant pile on the cooling rack, with jewel-like red jam peeking out. 

I’ve made them twice now, once with plain biscuits and raspberry jam and once with lemon biscuits and lemon curd. The biscuit is light and crisp and keeps quite well in an airtight tin. I’m thinking now of trying a lime version with lime curd so that I can have traffic-light biscuits (I’m easily amused).

The recipe for the plain biscuits is below. If you want make a lemon version, just add the zest and juice of a lemon. You might need to adjust the amounts of sugar and flour slightly to compensate for the extra liquid, but that didn’t seem to be a problem when I made them. A 7.5 cm/3 in cookie cutter will produce good-sized biscuits and, if you don’t have an extensive cutter collection, a screw cap from a wine bottle works well for the hole in the middle. Don’t forget to re-roll the cut outs for even more biscuits!

Jammy dodgers

Makes 12

145 g softened butter or margarine

70 g caster sugar

1 large egg beaten

Few drops vanilla extract

230 g plain flour

35 g corn flour

½ tsp baking powder

Pinch of salt

100 g seedless raspberry jam

Preheat the oven to 180ºC/350ºF/gas mark 4. Cream the butter or margarine and sugar then gradually beat in the egg and vanilla extract. Sift in the flour, corn flour, baking powder and salt and blend with a wooden (not metal) spoon until everything comes together in a ball of soft dough.

Roll out the half the dough to around 3 mm thick (this is quite thin, but the cookies will rise slightly during baking) and use a cookie cutter of the desired size to cut out an even number of biscuits, re-rolling the scraps until all the dough is used; these will form the bases. Roll out the other half of the dough until the same number of cookies is cut. From this second batch cut out small shapes in the centre (eg, circles or hearts); these will form the tops of the biscuits. Place all the biscuits on baking trays and bake for 15 min until lightly browned.

Cool the biscuits on a rack. Spread a small amount of jam on each base and cover with the top halves. Keep in an airtight container for 4-5 days.

Bye gulls!

The title of this post might seem a little odd, but it stems from a discussion I had recently about the correct spelling and pronunciation of bagels. If you live in east London, it’s likely that they’ll be referred to as “beigels”, pronounced ‘bye-gulls’, which is said by locals to be the authentic spelling. “Bagel” (pronounced ‘bay-gull’) is purported, by east Londoners and others, to be an Americanised spelling. However, I have been told by plenty of people in various parts of the UK that they have only ever known this latter spelling. As the original Yiddish word is “beygl”, I reckon that either spelling is fair game. Whatever you call them, bagels have been a bread success story of the 20th century.

Thought to have their origins in Poland in the 1600s, bagels were taken across Europe, to the UK and to the USA by Polish migrants in the late 19th century. Now they are widely available in plain and flavoured varieties – raisin, cinnamon, sesame, poppy seed and onion are probably the most common –­ but all share the dense texture and smooth, chewy crust. Supermarkets give over notable shelf space to them, and a host of outlets have sprung up that toast and fill bagels to order with a wide choice of fillings. The Beigel Bake shop in London’s Brick Lane is a must-do on the tourist attraction lists. People have even gone to the trouble of designing dedicated kitchen gadgetry.

I really enjoy bagels for breakfast and am generally happy to buy the supermarket ones. Having improved my bread-making skills over the past year, however, I thought I would have a go at making them. They hold some mystery because they are boiled before baking, which seems a strange thing to do to bread. This step is, though, remarkably simple and helps to give the exterior it’s slightly leathery finish and beautiful golden colour. I looked around for recipes, which seem to vary quite a lot. Some were rich, including eggs, butter, malt syrup or honey, but some seemed more like straightforward bread recipes. I gather the recipes fall into two main categories in North America: Montreal-style bagels are made from sweet, rich dough and are often flavoured with sesame or poppy seeds, whereas for New York-style bagels the dough is less rich and they have no added flavourings or toppings.

After looking in my store cupboard, I opted for fewer ingredients, thinking that would be simpler. The first couple of attempts, though, were real flops ­– literally! I had the balance of yeast to flour wrong and the dough over-proved, meaning that the bagels completely collapsed during baking. With a bit of tweaking, I came up with a formula that yields consistently good results. I have provided this recipe below along with a tutorial.

You will see that I’ve mentioned the bagels may be kept uncooked in the fridge overnight. The science suggests that this process enables development of long, strongly cross-linked gluten strands without letting the dough over-prove. This is said to improve the texture and flavour of the finished bagels. I have, however, tried my recipe with and without refrigeration, and I didn’t notice much difference, so I would employ this approach for convenience as much as anything else. Convenience is certainly the reason behind the other frequently cited reason for refrigeration, which is that Jews could prepare the bagels before the Sabbath began, avoid partaking in prohibited cooking activities during it, and the bagels would be ready to cook when it was finished. Either way, refrigeration does mean that baking bagels can fit into even tight time schedules, so that makes them a winner for me.

Give them a go.