Spice of Life

My foray into international journalism started with a plate of chicken korma. A singular work of art, the dish--a fragrant mix of chicken, brown curry gravy and spices ladled over rice--was served in a Back Bay, Mass., brownstone in the late spring of 1994. I remember this meal so well because I ate plate after plate until I could barely stand.

The creator of this heavenly dish was Dr. Anees Syed, the mother of my journalism school classmate Asif. She had come to the States from Bombay, India, to visit her son and make a home-cooked meal for his friends. What she got was me running laps in the kitchen past her cooking pots, a sight she wouldn’t soon forget. Asif later confided, “To this day, whenever she remembers you, it is almost always in connection with your appetite.”

Following a move to L.A. a year later, Asif called to ask if I’d write a humor column as an American correspondent for his father’s now-defunct, Bombay-based newspaper, the Current. I reasoned it would be the perfect way to rehabilitate my gluttonous reputation and make peace with his parents.

As the first deadline approached, I realized my pride had been bigger than my stomach. I didn’t know much about my intended audience or their culture. How would I possibly connect with a world I knew so little about?

I needed to immerse myself in Indian culture, to soak it up firsthand--sort of a columnist’s version of method acting. Not having the financial means to grab the next Air India flight, I did the next best thing. I hopped on the 5 Freeway and headed for Artesia.

With its unassuming four-block stretch of Pioneer Boulevard unofficially known as “Little India,” this sun-baked part of Orange County is packed with Indian restaurants and stores selling everything from chapati flour to saris to the latest Bollywood musical on DVD. If I could catch the Indian vibe anywhere, I figured this was the place.

Moments after parking in front of a dusty mini-mall, I disappeared into another world. One step into the Patel Brothers market and I felt like John Cusack finding the secret portal into John Malkovich’s brain in “Being John Malkovich.” My own portal dumped me squarely in the middle of a Bombay market.

Indian music warbled from somewhere deep in the interior of the store, and the scent of incense wafted over the register. Two Indian women in saris murmured about mangos and priced papdi, or broad beans, among the 20-pound sacks of chapati flour, kilos of sunflower oil and bricks of jaggery--the coarse Indian unrefined sugar--I felt the fog of writer’s block start to lift.

After marveling at cans of mango pulp, bags of Ready-to-Puff roti bread and cricket bats, I bought a bag of Hot Mix (sort of an Indian version of Chex mix containing rice flakes, lentils, nuts and chickpea dough) and decamped to the India Entertainment Center across the street. For the next 25 minutes, I snacked contentedly and watched an Indian movie on the big-screen TV in the window.

As I headed back to my car, I was blindsided by the fragrant aroma of curry. Despite all the Hot Mix, I suddenly felt hungry. I followed the scent through the front door of Ashoka the Great restaurant, where an all-you-can-eat lunch buffet was in full swing. Tables were piled with steaming pans of simmering chicken curry, goat curry, aloo gobi stew made with potato and cauliflower, the spinach-and-cheese sag paneer stew and basmati rice.

Three plates later, back on the street, I managed to walk a few blocks before I was lured into Standard Sweets & Snacks. There glass cases displayed tray after tray of Indian desserts such as pudding-like carrot halva, and rasmalai--fresh cheese balls simmered in sweet cream and topped with pistachio nuts and rose water. The line stretched out the door, everyone smiling and patiently waiting their turn. I was witnessing a universal truth--everyone loves dessert.

One afternoon in Little India didn’t suddenly give me great insight into Indian culture, but it was a great place to take my first steps. And if my experiences in Artesia were any indication, we’d have a lot more in common than I’d first thought.

Eating my way along Pioneer Boulevard with Olympian determination that afternoon kicked off an unlikely two-year stint as an international correspondent writing for the Current and then the Bombay-based Sunday Observer on everything from the Oscars to American opinions on Indian parliamentary elections. And all because I couldn’t say “no” to a plate of chicken korma.

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Feerni Rice Pudding

Serves 8-10 as a dessert

5 plain unsalted almonds

10 unsalted whole pistachios

3 cups water

20 green cardamom seeds

1/4 cup rice ground into a fine powder

1/2 gallon milk

3/4 cup sugar

A pinch of saffron

1 tablespoon rose water

Soak almonds and pistachios in a cup of hot water for 30 minutes, then drain. Peel skins and cut into thin, long slices. Set aside. Grind cardamom seeds into a fine powder. Set aside.

In a large nonstick pot, mix the rice powder with two cups of water and bring to a boil, stirring often. Reduce heat to low and simmer, stirring constantly, about 10 minutes. Add milk and return to a boil. Reduce heat to low and simmer, stirring constantly, about 15 minutes. Add sugar and return to boil. Stir for 10 minutes. While stirring, sprinkle in cardamom powder and saffron. Reduce heat and simmer on low heat, stirring often to prevent burning on bottom of pan. When mixture begins to thicken, after about 1 hour, add rose water and remove from heat. Transfer to serving dish. When cool, transfer to refrigerator and allow to cool several hours to overnight. Garnish with almond and pistachio slices.

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Yakhni Pulao

Serves 10-12 as part of an Indian meal

6 tablespoons dry whole coriander seeds

6 tablespoons aniseed

4 pounds lamb, trimmed of fat

3 tablespoons sunflower-seed oil

3 large onions

12 cloves garlic

4 one-inch pieces fresh ginger

15 whole cloves

12 brown cardamom seeds

20 whole black peppercorns

2 3-inch pieces cinnamon stick

6 bay leaves

9 cups water

6 tablespoons whole-milk plain yogurt

4 cups rice

Salt to taste

1/4 cup chopped cilantro

Using a piece of cheesecloth, tie coriander seeds and aniseed into a small pouch. Put the pouch into a large pot. Add lamb, two quartered onions, garlic, ginger, 10 cloves, 10 brown cardamom seeds, 10 black peppercorns, cinnamon and 4 bay leaves. Add water. Cover the pot and cook 10 minutes on high heat. Reduce to low heat and cook for about 25 minutes. Remove from heat. Separate lamb pieces from bone and cut into 2-inch pieces. Strain broth into another pot and discard spice residue and pouch.

Peel and thinly slice third onion. In a nonstick frying pan, add 1 tablespoon oil and brown half of the sliced onion. Set aside.

In a large cooking pot heat 2 tablespoons oil. In quick succession, add the remaining 2 brown cardamom seeds, 5 cloves, 10 black peppercorns, 2 bay leaves and remaining sliced onion and stir-fry until onion slices are golden brown. Add lamb pieces and the plain yogurt and stir-fry until the water from the yogurt is completely absorbed. Add rice and stir to coat. Add reserved broth and bring to a boil. Cover pot and simmer over medium heat until the rice is cooked and the broth is completely absorbed, about 20 minutes. Remove from heat, discard bay leaves, add remaining browned sliced onions and cilantro for garnish. Salt to taste.

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Chicken Korma

Serves 8-10 as part of an Indian meal

2 heaping tablespoons coriander powder

1/2 teaspoon Kashmiri red chili powder

12 cloves garlic, peeled

11/2 ounces fresh ginger, peeled and minced

2 large onions, sliced

3 tablespoons sunflower-seed oil

8whole brown cardamom seeds

20 black peppercorns

10 whole cloves

1 teaspoon brown cumin seed

1 teaspoon khus-khus

8 green cardamom seeds

2 pounds skinless chicken, boned and cut into 3-inch pieces

1 inch-long stick of cinnamon, roughly ground

3/4 cup and 1 tablespoon whole-milk plain yogurt

1 teaspoon salt

A pinch of saffron

Step One: Place coriander powder, chili powder, garlic, ginger and 3 cups of sliced onion in a food processor. Grind to a fine paste. Set aside.

Step Two: In nonstick frying pan heat 1 tablespoon of oil. When oil is hot, in quick succession add 1/4 cup onion, 4 brown cardamom seeds, 10 black peppercorns, 5 cloves, 1/2 teaspoon brown cumin, 1/2 teaspoon khus-khus and 4 green cardamom seeds and stir-fry, stirring often. When onion turns golden brown, about 1 minute, remove pan from heat. Using 1 tablespoon water, grind ingredients in pan into a very fine paste. Set aside.

Step Three: In nonstick frying pan, heat 1 tablespoon oil and stir-fry the chicken pieces until golden brown, about 3 to 5 minutes. Remove from heat and set aside.

In a nonstick pan, heat 1 tablespoon oil and in quick succession add the remaining cardamom seeds, black peppercorns, cloves, cumin, cinnamon and remaining onions. Stir-fry until the onion slices are brown, about 5 minutes.

Add coriander paste from Step One, chicken, yogurt and salt and stir-fry for 5 minutes. When water from yogurt begins to dry, add 1/4 cup water and bring to boil. Cover pan and cook on low heat for about 20 minutes, or until the chicken is well-done. Remove cover and continue stir-frying on low heat until the water evaporates and oil starts to ooze out, about 5-10 minutes. Add ground paste from Step Two and one cup of water. Add the saffron. Cover the pan and simmer on low heat for 10 minutes.

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RESOURCE GUIDE

Indian spices can be found at Bombay Spices, Artesia, (562) 860-9949; Patel Brothers, Artesia, (562) 402-2953.

Adam Tschorn last wrote for the magazine about Vermont cheddar cheese.