NO WORRIES! THERE’S CURRY
Indian staple is a global favourite
I was watching the Begin Japanology series on YouTube while tidying, letting one video roll over into the next. It was pleasant background chatter until the curry rice (kare raisu) video popped up.
I never paid much attention to Japanese curry, preferring what I deemed to be REAL curries, each one having its own spice combination, and specific method of cooking. This Japanese curry video pulled me in deep and I couldn’t escape. How could millions of people that I admired to the extreme, and who ate curry an average of 97 times a year be wrong? I became obsessed by it, a dish that tasted naive yet sophis- ticated, and was made either using French technique or a block of store-bought curry roux. It’s up there with ramen as the meal favoured by most Japanese diners.
This got me thinking about curry powder, how almost every household has a container of it in varying degrees of age, and how it has travelled the world. Maybe it was time to re-evaluate my opinion on curry powder. Where else would I find it? I don’t mean “put a pinch in your egg salad” curry. I was looking for dishes that had achieved national status.
In the 1870s, the developing Japanese navy modelled itself on the British navy, and curry meals were adopted along with everything else. It jumped ship, landed ashore and spread to the general populace. This curry is sweetened with apple, and honey can be added to make it more palatable to children.
Currywurst was the brainchild of Mrs. Herta Heuwer who obtained curry powder by trading alcohol for it with British soldiers at the end of the Second World War. She experimented with it and developed a hefty dish of sausage and curry-spiked tomato sauce that she sold from a street stand. It has so captivated the country that the currywurst museum in Berlin claims that 800 million currywurst are eaten in a year. In 2013, McDonalds ran a six-week promo featuring … McCurrywurst.
South African Bobotie is the oldest dish in this story, the first recipe appearing in a Dutch cookbook in 1609. My instinct tells me that curry was a post-Boer War addition. Years ago, I read a recipe for it and was put off by its resemblance to a shepherd’s pie that had custard on top instead of potatoes, and was filled with raisins, chutney, apricot jam and curry powder. I’m wise enough to put food prejudices aside now.
When I used to make vats of curried chicken salad at The David Wood Food Shop I would wonder who first came up with this dreadful concoction. It was Rosemary Hume, the principal of the London Le Cordon Bleu school who created Poulet Reine Elizabeth (later known as Coronation Chicken) for one of the coronation meals in 1953. I can imagine the clamouring for that recipe, buoyed by the delight of a new monarch, and still burdened by postwar rationing. Her dish was lighter on the curry, and heavier on the sweet stuff.
I like the charm of these dishes and knowing the history has made them more dear. And like all national dishes, the only thing agreed upon is that there is no agreement as to how they are made.
Serve with boereboontjies — mashed potatoes with fried onions and green beans.
1 tbsp (15 mL) vegetable oil
2 cups (500 mL) finely chopped onion
2 cloves garlic, minced
4 tsp (20 mL) curry powder
1 tsp (5 mL) turmeric
2 lbs (1 kg) lean ground beef
1 cup (250 mL) water
11/2 tsp (7.5 mL) sea salt, divided
2 tbsp (30 mL) Worcestershire sauce
1 tbsp (15 mL) tomato paste
2 slices white sandwich bread, torn and soaked in 1/2 cup (125 mL) whole milk
3/4 tsp (4 mL) freshly ground black pepper, divided
2 tbsp (30 mL) lemon juice
1/4-1/2 cup (60-125 mL) sweet mango chutney
4 large eggs 2 cups (500 mL) whole milk
1/4 tsp (1 mL) freshly ground black pepper
4 bay leaves
1. In a large pot, heat oil over medium heat. Add onions and garlic; cook until onion browns lightly.
2. Add curry powder and turmeric, stir for a minute.
3. Add beef and cook, crumbling it, until it loses its raw, red colour.
4. Stir in water, 1 tsp (5 mL) salt, Worcestershire sauce and tomato paste. Simmer for 1/2 hour.
5. Mash bread to a paste; add to beef, stir well to mix it in thor- oughly. Simmer five minutes longer.
6. Stir in 1/2 tsp (2.5 mL) pepper, lemon juice and chutney. Spread out into a 2-quart (2 L) rectangular baking dish. 7. Heat oven to 350°F (175°C). 8. Beat eggs well; beat in milk, 1/2 tsp (2.5 mL) salt and 1/4 tsp (1 mL) pepper.
9. Carefully pour mixture over beef and arrange bay leaves on top. Bake for 35-45 minutes, until the custard has set.