This Cape Malay beef and cashew curry is a great dish for people who don't like their dishes too spicy, but appreciate complex flavours. It doesn't always look like much, but the flavours are fantastic. Spicy sambals can add heat at the table for those who do like their curries with more of a punch.
Beef or cow?
Cape Malay cooking is one of the most delicious examples of South Africa's rich heritage of Diasporan gastronomy originating in Asia. Cape Malay cooking, with its origins in the cuisine of Muslim Indonesia, first arrived at the Cape in the 17th century, initially through the slaves, servants and clerks brought to the Cape by the Dutch and, later, via independent merchants eager to find opportunity in the long-standing links between the Dutch and Indonesia.
With its Muslim culture of halal food, much of what Cape Malay cooking is best known for is the lamb, chicken and vegetable dishes. But, in South Africa, a country well suited to cattle ranching, there also evolved a tradition of cooking with beef as the infrastructure grew. With beef more plentiful on the tip of Africa than in many parts of Asia, traditions of prized Indonesian beef dishes such as rendang were evolved in a new location. Cape Malay cooking began to reflect local resources. Fresh coconuts are hard to grow in the Mediterranean climate of the Cape. So, that cultural memory of coconut often comes out in Cape Malay cooking in the use of dried coconut, more widely available as a result of later preservation techniques, rather than the use of fresh coconut or coconut milk often used in beef dishes in Western Sumatra where rendang is believed to have originated, though this dish does not use coconut. Bizarrely, it appears that no one has yet attempted to get Cape Malay cooking listed on UNESCO's Representative List of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity. Get on it, kids.
Cape Malay cuisine evolved as distinct from the Indonesian culture that gave birth to it, reflective of local (or nearer) ingredients. This Cape Malay beef and cashew curry is one of those dishes. The Portuguese had already had success in introducing the delicious cashew nuts they encountered in Brazil to their colonies in Goa, where India eagerly embraced their flavour in the 1500s. Later, canny Portuguese traders in Mozambique began cultivation, figuring out they could get them back to Europe, where they were trying to push them as a novel luxury food in the 18th century, a lot faster than from Brazil or Goa. Stopping off to stock up on provisions in Cape Town, locals also developed a taste for cashews and began incorporating them into their cooking, but usually for special occasions or on the tables of the rich: they were very expensive at that time. Thus, their use in Cape Malay cuisine is rather niche and not as well known as the cuisine's other signature dishes.
This is a particularly mild curry (and it can be called a "curry" because it actually uses curry leaves). It's one I often deploy when cooking for groups where some love spiciness and others don't, not least of all because it's very easy to "hot up" with some of the common sambals with which it should be served. On this occasion, I was cooking it for my partner Luc who likes complex flavours, but whose delicate Belgian palate is not great with spicy heat. He, incidentally, is responsible for the ropey photos (jammer!) because I was focussed on him and not on focus...
Stormin' Norman
I was taught to cook this curry by my father Denton, an amazing cook and the person who first inspired me to cook through taking me to distant places to discover the unique food cultures of our planet. Better still, he had the patience to teach me all those basic building blocks that lie at the heart of flavour and good cooking.
It wasn't until I was already in my twenties and he had decamped to Melbourne that I found out where this recipe came from. Denton had learned it from a guy called Norman who had been the Chief Steward on ships on which he had sailed. Denton knew this disclosure would please me. When I was a little kid, sailing to Montreal or Southampton, Norman could manage me when I was "on one". And, as a neuro tyke, I was quite often "on one". Norman was very patient and he'd take me on long walks all the way around the ship as my mother went into one of her (very understandable) meltdowns at a small child who would ask a million questions and throw back the answers before she'd even had time to breathe. Norman never seemed to mind.
I'd teeter around behind him on the listing ship and try to climb up and look inside a dorade box, those distinctive ship's ventilation shafts, and he'd roll his eyes."Moenie, Kenny. Jy sal op jou gat val!"
Norman grew up in Cape Town's District Six and one of the things I'd look forward to with delight (for some reason, Fridays, I recall) was when he got to chase the chef out of the galley and cook Kaapse Malay dinner. Initially, it had started as a kinda ad hoc thing: Denton had had asked the captain to give permission for Norman to cook for my parents and a few of the SAFAs who were interested in Cape Malay cuisine while the British officers still expected their "meat and two veg" on crisp white linen.
It was a bloodless coup driven by flavour. The chefs stopped whining about their preeminence being overridden by a "mere steward" and soon Norman's "curry night", became a thing of legend.
I also heard from my Da', many years later in Australia, that Norman had hung up his peacoat to open a little place in NYC, on the lower West Side, which enabled him to take his wife and daughters to the USA before eventually handing over the keys and moving back to Cape Town in retirement after his wife passed away.
Every recipe has a story. In this particular case, that story is as rich as the flavours of this dish I cooked for ages before even knowing it was Norman's.
This version serves 2 to 3 people, depending on your side dishes and condiments.
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Shopping list
for the Cape Malay beef and cashew curry
Approx. 500g lean beef, cut into thick cubes or strips
Approx. 100g raw cashew nuts; unsalted, finely chopped
2 large onions, (red or brown); sliced
1 x 400g tin chopped tomatoes (or chopped fresh equivalent)
3 green "pointed" peppers (or 2 bell peppers) ; sliced
1 large fresh red chilli; not too hot, sliced
3 to 4 tbspns sunflower oil (or peanut oil)
5 black cardamom pods (or 6 green); bruised
5 or 6 whole cloves
1 tspn soy sauce
1 tspn whole black peppercorns
5 curry leaves (dried or fresh)
2 tspns mild curry powder (e.g. Madras style)
1 tspn dried cumin
1.5 tspns garam masala
1 tspn turmeric powder
2 tbspns garlic & ginger paste (or minced equivalent from fresh ingredients)
A generous clutch of fresh coriander; chopped
the juice and pulp of 1 fresh lime
Approx. 500ml hot water
Salt, to taste
for the okra side dish
Approx. 200g okra; fresh or frozen; topped and tailed
2 cloves of fresh garlic, finely chopped
Half a thumb's length of fresh ginger, finely chopped or roughly grated
1.5 tbspns sunflower oil (or peanut oil)
1 level tspn amchoor
Salt and pepper to taste
for the sides and condiments
Rice, flaky roti or naan breads
"fire sambal" — chopped green and red bird's eye chillies, cucumber, shallots and tomato in vinegar
Raitha — finely chopped mint and cucumber mixed into Greek-style yoghurt
Chutney—any variety, but I opted for Mrs H.S.Balls Original Recipe Chutney
Cooking Method
the Cape Malay beef and cashew curry
Make the curry paste first. You can do this days ahead and store in the fridge or freeze relevant portions until you need to use them. For the portions here, you will use all this paste. But, if cooking in smaller portions, scale accordingly. In a bowl, mix the chopped cashews, garlic and ginger paste, soy sauce, tomato purée; lime juice and pulp, and all of the ground spices. Add dabs of oil to help it mix
Add half of the remaining oil and heat in a large pot with a lid on a medium heat. When the oil bubbles, add the cloves, black peppercorns and black cardamoms. As soon as the aromas are released, add the beef and brown, stirring so it browns evenly
Once browned on all sides, remove from the pot using a sieve spoon and place to one side, leaving the cloves, cardamoms and peppercorns in the pot
Add the remaining oil to the juices and allow it to heat on a medium heat. Add the onions and stir. Ensure that they are fully coated in the juices/oil. When the onions show the first signs of softening, add the fresh red chilli and stir in. Sweat for about 5mins
Add the curry paste and stir in. Reduce to a low heat, cover and brown the onions in the curry paste for about 25mins, stirring regularly and adding a little hot water as needed to prevent sticking
When the onions are notably softened, add the green pointed peppers and stir in. Cover and sweat for an additional approx.10mins, stirring occasionally
When the green peppers have softened, add the chopped tomatoes and their juices and half of the hot water and stir in. Increase the heat until it comes to the boil. Boil vigorously from approx. 4mins, stirring regularly to prevent sticking, then reduce to a gentle simmer, cover and simmer for 15mins
Add the beef back into the pot and stir in. Add the remaining hot water and stir in. Cover and simmer for at least 20mins, stirring occasionally
Add the curry leaves and half of the fresh coriander. Re-cover and barely simmer on a low heat for about 60mins, stirring occasionally. If the liquid reduces too quickly—you want to end up with very tender beef in a fairly thick gravy—top up will little dashes of hot water, approx. 30ml at a time
If, after 60mins, your sauce still hasn't thickened enough, remove the lid and increase to a medium heat, stirring as it reduces to prevent sticking. When it appears that you will reach the right consistency in 4 or 5mins, add the remainder of the coriander and a sprinkle more garam masala into the pot and stir in. Cover and keep warm on a minimum heat while you prepare any side dishes
Plate or take to table in a serving dish and serve with any sides and condiments
the okra side dish
In a pan (or wok) heat the oil on a medium heat. Add the garlic and the ginger and gently sizzle
Before the garlic and ginger begin to brown, turn up to a high heat, add the okra and stir vigorously. FYI: okra cooks very well from frozen. If using frozen do not defrost (this can result in it becoming "slimy") but stir fry from frozen. Obviously it will take about a minute longer compared with fresh, but the results are indistinguishable
Stir fry, adding salt and pepper, until cooked, but still slightly al dente (about 3 to 4mins). In the final minute of cooking, sprinkle the amchoor into the pan and stir in thoroughly
Once done, decant to a serving dish and take to table
Alternatives
This is a beef dish first and foremost. But, it works well as a tried and tested vegan and vegetarian option. I usually substitute the beef with (cooked) chickpeas, green lentils, cubed swede or whole closed-cup mushrooms. Ultimately, I think the swede version is my favourite vegan version.
These require slightly different timings and, overall, are quicker to cook than the beef version. With the swede, green lentils or chickpeas, I usually calculate that the dish will take 45mins in the final simmering stage (versus the 60min above) and add them about 30mins before. With the mushrooms, I usually add them about 20mins before predicted serving time. NB: The green lentils may take a bit longer to get them optimal; use the taste test before deciding when to serve. Also, do not use yellow or brown lentils that flake quickly unless you want to end up with something like dal.
Weirdly, I can't remember having ever tried a pescatarian version of this recipe. Now that I'm thinking of it, I think it could be fantastic to simply dump a whole cooked lobster into the pot, cut up into large pieces or langoustine tails in their shells. I shall have to try this out...
In approaching other carnivore versions of this dish, I always wondered why it wasn't a lamb dish, given Cape Malay cuisine's fondness for lamb. But, having tried it, I think I know why. Something strange happens when combining lamb and cashews. I can't entirely put my finger on it other than to say it is something of an "overkill" in flavours; it somehow is too rich. Chicken, however, is a different matter. Yes, this is a fantastic dish with chicken. The main thing is not to add the pre-browned chicken too early (unless you want a Cape Malay chicken soup). For best results, sauté the chicken until it is almost fully cooked, then remove and put aside. Only add it back into the pot in the last 10 to 15mins of cooking. It really is succulent and delicious.
Pairings
This dish works well with both beer and wine. Though, respecting the Muslim traditions on which it was forged, it's also great with iced tea and Afri Cola with a slice of lime (and, yes, I say that specifically compared with the global brand with a similar name).
Beer and curry are a winning combination. I must confess that I'm partial to pairing it with with common or garden Carling Black Label or Castle Lager for perhaps obvious reasons.
In this particular case, I have no problem saying that my beloved (good) Cape pinotages should be your first place to look. If you can get your hands on Angus Paul Transient Lands Pinotage, run in that direction without looking back. I've savoured both the 2022 and the 2020 outings and they are things of beauty. Another was this Grangehurst Pinotage 2012.
However, this is a dish that is less monolithic that it might appear at first sight. Despite the complex spices, here very mild, there is something about the end result of this dish that is not a millions miles from a Tuscan beef stew or a good old carbonnade; quite literally its beefiness. So, I have most certainly found good matches for it in Sangiovese and Côtes du Rhône reds that have enough body to stand up to it, but do not get in the way of the spices. Obviously I can't remember the specifics. But, basically, avoid heavy, earthy or woody reds that will overpower its inherent complexity, and you're on on the right track.
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