Sweet Indian Dumplings

After two tries at deep frying without injury, I think I can call myself a professional. Even when these wontons inflated to the point at which I thought they just might explode, sending scalding hot stuffing in the direction of my eyes, I kept my cool. These fried wontons come to you courtesy of the last page of May's Gourmet magazine. Believe me when I say that I was thinking about them even in Africa. I thought they might make the perfect appetizer for Sarah's slumber party. I chose the vegetarian variety, for which I already had nearly all the ingredients (I substituted coconut milk for actual coconut meat). However, I was a bit disappointed with the quantity of stuffing required for the wonton (it was probably me not following the directions). The recipe said it made 24 wontons, but I only came out with 18 with a meager teaspoon of the savory-sweet coconut sauce dropped in the middle of each round. My adaptation of the recipe adjusts the issue. Indian Sweet Coconut Dumplings: adapted from Gourmet 2 cups coconut milk 1/2 cup brown sugar 4 tablespoons blanched and chopped almonds 4 tablespoons sultanas 1/2 teaspoon ground cardamom 24 round wonton wrappers Combine all ingredients (aside from wonton wrappers) in a small saucepan on medium heat. Bring mixture to a boil and simmer, stirring occasionally. Simmer until sauce is thickened and liquid has nearly evaporated, it should take 15 to 20 minutes. Remove sauce from heat and let cool. Lay the wonton wrappers out on a flat surface. Spoon a heaping teaspoon of sauce onto the middle of the wonton. Using a brush, spread water on the edge of the wonton wrapper. Fold wonton in half and pinch shut. Bring about 2 cups of vegetable oil to a boil in a medium frying pan--it should be about an inch deep in the pan. Carefully drop the stuffed dumplings into the hot oil, turning with a slotted spoon to brown both sides. Remove from oil when browned--it should take less than 5 minutes.

I Channa You Masala

A few weeks ago after a rather long meeting at work, I took a break on the sunny spring day to go to the Bookworm. I found Wallace's Infinite Jest but just wasn't satisfied until I made the entire bookstore staff turn the culinary department upside down looking for Orangette Molly's A Homemade Life. Once we had scoured the entire store to find the book, I couldn't very well not get it, could I? I was initially unsure about the book. There was a ridiculous amount of hype about it in the foodie blogosphere. But the cover was just so pretty. I've fully dug in and completely abandoned reading The Satanic Verses and ever picking up any sort of post-modern writing again, I swear. (Unless it's by Jonathon Safran Foer.) I love the book. Love it. I was reading it at lunch one day and actually started crying. Tears running down my cheeks. I had to go over and get a paper towel to dry my eyes. But funny thing, I hadn't run into anything I needed to make rightthissecond. I had been folding over the ears of the pages at the end of every single chapter, but I always do that and I never follow through. Until I came across the channa masala recipe. What I need from recipes these days is one that won't take long and one that doesn't require a separate trip to the grocer. What sealed the deal were these ingredients: fresh cilantro and garam masala. I had cilantro just sitting around the fridge after the salsa, waiting to be used on something besides a salad. And I had a bag of garam masala collecting dust in the back of my spice cabinet. Who has garam masala just lying around? I mean, I don't even know what that is. And just like Molly, this meal comes with it's own story. Unfortunately for me, mine is not accompanied with a cute boy sauteeing onions in my kitchen. My story is a touch more tragic. I had just been talking to someone, nary 24 hours prior to making the channa masala, about my partiality for chopping saying something like "the repetitive motion is therapeutic, and if you have a bad day, you can take it out on a bunch of vegetables, but I'm such a clutz it's a miracle I haven't severly injured myself." You can see where this is going. Instead of finely chopping the cilantro, I finely chopped my left index finger. I wanted to cry, but instead I just cursed all the way to the bathroom, ripping through the cupboard looking for some freaking bandaids and going through tissue upon tissue of blood-soaked toilet paper. Of course I was home alone, and of course my nurse mother was unable to answer her phone. I finally found an old T-shirt and paced around the living room until I was convinced I didn't need to go to the hospital to get stitches. (Have I mentioned I'm dramatic?) I finished off the rest of the meal with the T-shirt wrapped tightly around my finger. And no, blood didn't get into the cilantro. Molly's Channa Masala:

1/4 cup olive oil 1/2 large onion, chopped 1 teaspoon cumin 1 teaspoon coriander 1/2 teaspoon ginger 1 teaspoon garam masala 1/2 teaspoon cardamom 2 garlic cloves, minced salt 2 14-ounce can diced tomatoes 1/2 cup chopped fresh cilantro finger (just kidding) dash cayenne pepper 2 14-ounce can chickpeas On medium heat, saute onion until soft-ish, about 5 minutes. Toss on the spices then add the garlic and saute for another minute. Add 1/4 cup water, bring to boil and simmer until its just about evaporated. Add the tomato juice from the cans of diced tomatoes. Simmer for a couple minutes then add the tomatoes and cilantro. Boil and simmer for 5 minutes. Add the drained and rinsed chickpeas along with 1/4 cup of water. Boil and reduce to simmer for 10 to 15 minutes until chickpeas are tender but firm to the bite. Halfway through add another couple tablespoons of water. Serve garnished with cilantro. Molly recommends serving with plain yogurt or lime.

In Praise of Slumdog

I went to India about 10 years ago with a group from church. Not a very likely trip for a 16-year-old. When I came back, everyone asked me how it was and all I could say was "good." I'm sure some of you may understand how difficult it is to sum up an experience that is so overwhelming and (as it turns out) lifechanging. Over Christmas I saw Slumdog Millionaire (twice actually), and could tell my parents and friends, "Yes, that is exactly what Bombay is like." It is absolutley that crowded, that dirty, that colorful, and if movies could smell I'm sure this one would be that smelly. And I don't necessarily mean this in a bad way. India is a country of extremes: the most people you've ever seen, the brightest colors possible and the food has more flavor than you could imagine existing in one bite. My palette had never experienced anything like what India presented. Our group had a cook who would make us breakfast and dinner everyday and would purify our water. Curry, coriander, cumin, marjoram, all these were completely new to me. I had never eaten lentils, eggplant, mutton, chai tea, nan bread ... is it lunchtime yet? Everything so savory with a bit of a kick (and sometimes quite a kick). I haven't even been able to recreate the plain black tea served there from the "chaiwallas" on the trains--and I bought some loose leaf tea while I was there. I wish I could show you some of my photos, but that was in the days prior to digital cameras and I had an unfortunate haircut. I'm clearly on some sort of India kick this week, what with the chutney. I even did yoga right before making this dish. The best part about this meal is that the best is yet to come. The leftovers are going to be ever better than straight out of the pan. Even though the above photo doesn't show it, this is one of the best dishes I've made (especially in recent months). Indian Spiced Chicken with Cous Cous: 2 tablespoons olive oil 1/2 onion, chopped 2 cloves garlic, chopped 1 tablespoon fresh ginger, minced (I used 1 teaspoon powdered ginger) 1/2 (or so)tablespoon cumin 1/2 (or so) tablespoon coriander 1/2 teaspoon turmeric (I didn't have this, skipped it and it was more than fine) 1/2 teaspoon paprika 1 teaspoon salt pinch cayenne pepper 1 15-ounce can diced tomatoes 1/4 cup cream 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon 1 1/2 cups water 4 boneless, skinless chicken breasts cut into strips Heat oil in medium skillet on medium heat, add onion and saute until translucent, add garlic and ginger. Continue sauteing for about a minute, do not let the garlic burn. Add the cumin, coriander, turmeric, paprika and salt. Stir to coat onion and garlic with spices. Add tomatoes and cayenne pepper. (Here you can add some frozen spinach to give some more color and texture. Be sure that it is defrosted and completely drained of excess water.) Carefully taste sauce to see if you need to add more seasonings. Add cream and water and bring to a boil, then reduce to simmer. Cover pan and simmer for five minutes. Add chicken strips to the stew, cover and simmer for about 10 minutes, until the chicken is cooked through. Allow sauce to stand for a few minutes before serving so that it will thicken. While the chicken is cooking, bring 1 1/2 cups of lightly salted water to a boil. Add one cup of cous cous to boiling water. Immediately turn off heat. Let cous cous sit for five minutes. Fluff with a fork and serve with chicken stew.