When I started my cooking odyssey (bearing in mind that I was raised on Dainty Rice (yes, that's prepared rice in a can in a box that nobody believes exists) (check it out--I dare you: rice in a can, frozen peas and Mickey D's), all I could think of to eat were quasi-Mexican dishes. Nothing actually Mexican, but Mexican inflected lets say. That went on for some time. But then I grew increasingly obsessed with my beloved Bombay Mahal, and decided, with my heart in my throat, to try to start recreating their dishes in my kitchen.
God. It's intimidating. Prior to my foray into the cuisine of the subcontinent, my spice rack probably contained: Basil, oregano, cumin, cayenne, mace (I seemed to continually be buying mace, which was more expensive than really seemed justified to me at the time) and maybe one or two other mystery spices. I knew this wasn't going to cut it, and ventured up to Jean-Talon where I became a regular at the various deps that sold everything I could possibly need to wade thigh-high into Indian cooking...AND they knew alternate names for things.
"It says I need dhania, but I don't see it anywhere. It's not on the shelf."
"Sure it is, it's just cumin. It's right here."
And the man working the cash bolts over, pushes my new buddy aside and whispers, "He doesn't know what he's talking about. Here."
And shoves a packet into my hand. It turns out to be coriander. He throws in my green chilies for free.
And thus began my love of cooking Indian food in a halfway, sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't, kind of way.
Which has nothing to do with my post. That's just mean to inspire those of you who might be afraid to dive into a new cuisine if you don't speak the language and don't understand the spices and haven't the foggiest notion of where to go to find out. I happen to live in a place where this isn't a problem, not even remotely, but you can usually get by just fine in one way or another. Don't be scared.
Because here's the thing. What I'm scared of at this point is Thai food. The ingredient lists are long and intimidating (much like Indian recipes used to be to me) and what's worse, when I've tried to use them, I've wound up more often than not with an inedible mass. Think lemongrass. If you don't know what to do with lemongrass, you might well wreck your best knife and make a vaguely edible soup with hard, chewy hunks of wood in it. That would be lemongrass.
And yet I'm somehow compelled to keep buying Thai ingredients. And let them accumulate on my shelves. So today I said, "To hell with that!" And decided to make a soup.
Of course I didn't jump in blind. I looked around, I thought of Thai dishes I had eaten. And I made a soup that, while not exactly a classic, is enjoyable enough, and certainly something that can be improved upon.
And while not everyone might think I need a schtik, I kind of feel like this could be my calling. So here goes:
- 1 squash. Any kind. Don't be scared. Butternut is easy, but any winter squash will do. Hell, a can of pumpkin (not spiced) would work if you don't feel like dealing with squash, but since the whole idea here is getting us into the kitchen, I say go for the squash. I paid $0.69/lb for this one.
- 1 can coconut milk. You really can find this in any grocery store, I don't care where you are. Maybe not in Utah, but who can say?
- 1 cup red lentils. Again, anything will do, but those little orange guys kind of go with the colour of the squash, plus they cook so darned fast that you really have no excuse for not keeping some around. Are you adding to your pantry list?
- 1 can Thai curry paste. I used green. I also used the whole can. My soup is quite spicy. Really very quite spicy. You don't need to use nearly as much as I did--I was just trying to keep things simple (for my own self).
Seriously folks, that's it.
What I did? I roasted the squash, because I have no idea who these people are that chop it and peel it. I don't have that kind of time. Cut it in half down the middle, put it face down in the oven (better yet, the toaster oven). Scoop out the seeds and strings. (Yes, you should totally destring and wash the seeds and bake them with oil and salt and pepper and any other spices you want, but I'm not going to make you do it if you don't want to.) Put it on foil, because when the starches come out, it'll make a sweet goo all over your pan. No foil? That's fine. Don't let that stop you from making this recipe. I just recommend keeping some around. Like most of my other ingredients, it doesn't go bad.
Right. So the temperature doesn't matter. 350? That'll take a little longer. 425? A little less time. I add a little water in the pan for some reason, maybe I read it someplace, but it doesn't matter. You can butter your pan if you want to, but again, you don't have to. All that will happen if you don't is the squash might stick to the foil/bottom of the pan a little more. It doesn't matter.
So the squash is cooking. In the meantime, I'm furiously revising my translation to try to finish things in time to go to Ann (going to Ann means going to Sunday afternoon yoga at the Yoga Sanctuary, because truly, it's all about Ann--she's amazing).
After the squash had been in there for some time, I put on a pan of water to boil. Actually, I had some leftover chicken stock from god knows what, so I used that, but water is more than fine. How much? God. Say three cups. It doesn't matter. I mean, not like ten gallons or anything, but anything in the ballpark is fine.
Water boils? Add lentils. You're supposed to pick them over for rocks, and I actually did this time, but you do what you want. A good way is to spread them out on a plate or a tray or something so you can really see them. I've also sometimes read that you're supposed to rinse them, but unlike with rice (I am a strict rice-rinsing and soaking nazi), I am completely inconsistent here.
So you've got the water boiling with the lentils. Stir it around a bit, or the lentils might stick a little to the bottom. No worries, nothing is going to go horrifically wrong. You'll see them pouff up in size eventually. If you taste them then, you'll see that they're fine to eat. I added a whole can of coconut milk at that point, simply because I knew that if I put half of the can in the fridge, even with the best of intentions, it would go green and moldy.
So, you've got your lentil water mixture, plus coconut milk, plus (whoo!) a can of chili paste. This, I don't know how available it is. I would assume somewhat, but also somewhat less than coconut milk. Look around. Ask around. How amazing is that? A whole can of delicious spicy stuff that means that you don't even have to think! It's all done for you! I call that gorgeous. I have the red stuff too, so if you find that, feel free to use it. I just happened to grab the green.
So that's all mixed into the pot, and bubbling away merrily. You can reduce the heat at this point (not to low, say med-low). The squash might be done. Check and see. Does it squoosh? Everywhere? (Mine didn't. I thought it was done, but the long neck-like part of the bigger half (of course I don't cut mine evenly either) was hard as a rock inside. It's fine. You can recover from that.) I recommend making sure it's done, but if it's not, do like I did. Scoop out whatever is done (soft and squishy) and lob it into the soup. The bits that don't seem to want to come off easily? Throw them back in the oven/toaster oven. They'll be ready in ten or so.
When you've succeeded in adding all of the squash to the pot, get out your hand blender. Don't have one? Got a blender? Use that. A food processor? That'll work too. Potato masher? You'll wind up with something less creamy, but just call it "Rustic Thai" and everyone will think it's great.
People jazz up their recipes with all kinds of stuff. Cilantro. Fish sauce. (Admission: I have a bottle of squid brand fish sauce that seems to have expired in 2006 but that was never opened--did I mention that I have a terror of preparing Thai food?--so I opened it today and threw some in. I have no idea what difference it made, if any. I would guess not much.) Chillies. Ginger. Garlic. Onions. That sort of thing. If you have some on hand, why not toss some in? Not too much. Be gentle. Think balance. Think moderation. It'll be great.
For the record, none of these ingredients goes bad (within reason I mean).
Dry lentils - personally have kept them on hand for years.
Coconut milk - ditto
Curry paste in a can - ditto
Squash - the only one of these that can really expire; it's happened to me once. I had a squash in a too-warm kitchen for like six months. Anything less than that and you're probably fine.
3 comments:
I've got some winter squash just aching for a recipe to call its own... could this be it??
dude, that was hilarious. i'm loving your shtick. loving it, yo.
You are the most down to earth cook I've ever read.
Keep it up!
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