A personal favourite is this lamb and fennel curry from South Africa's eastern coast. On one hand it epitomises Parsi cooking with its use of nuts and dried fruit, on the other, it's odd given its complete lack of the ingredient for which Parsi cooking is best known: coconut.
This is another of those dishes I first experienced and came to love in South Africa. And, in this particular case, the story is a curious one. For one thing, the disaporan Parsi population that migrated from the Indian subcontinent—or from elsewhere on Africa's eastern coast and Indian Ocean islands—to South Africa has never been large. Yet, even though there were only estimated to be about 50 Parsi families in South Africa when the satyagraha movement kicked off, the Parsi community have played a key role in South Africa's political evolution from Gandhi's day through to the ascent of the ANC.
The Parsis—also sometimes called Parsees—were a culture that resulted from Persian adherents to Zoroastrianism fleeing to India following the invasion of what is today Iran by Arabian muslim forces. Persecuted for refusing to convert to Islam, they upped sticks and departed for India where they settled primarily on the western coast in and around what is today Mumbai. A second notable enclave settled in what is today Pakistan. I'm not getting into the ethno-religious anthropology of it all: Google it if you want to know more.
Parsi cuisine
What is curious is that this recipe contains no coconut, the ingredient for which Parsi cooking is most famous. It does, however, contain nuts and dried fruit, two other types of ingredients associated with Parsi cuisine, perhaps ironically, because the Persian roots of Parsi cooking are also reflected in the Mughlai cooking of the distinctly muslim empire, also originating in Persian, that stretched across much of the Indian subcontinent after the flight of the Parsis to India.
This recipe was given to me by a couple who ran a pet shop renowned for its offer of tropical fish, magically swimming in huge tanks that diffused light in weird and wonderful ways into their shop. Details were a bit patchy, but if I got it right, their own family histories of migration started in the Parsi communities of what is today Pakistan rather than from the Parsi communities of Mumbai—Bombay back then—with its fairly direct sea routes to South Africa's east coast ports.
Parsis don't have many religious dietary restrictions—apart from not eating meat during certain religious observances; not dissimilar to Catholics. But, Parsi cuisine is noted for its love of fish and seafood—which obviously goes well with coconut. Some historians even posit that this love of seafood and coconut is a result of the Parsis arriving in their new home of India relishing in "exotic" tropical flavours practically unknown in their arid Persian original home.
So, I wondered about this lamb dish. Mrs Panday wrote it down for me one day when I dropped in to stare, mesmerised, at the tanks of Siamese fighting fish, kissing gouramis, neon tetras and gold panda mollies.
I commented on the gorgeous aroma emanating from the "staff only" area. She was reheating lunch for her husband and herself. She insisted I try some and we all got talking—yes, I could actually be charming then—which is when she told me the stories of their families.
When I pushed a little harder and asked about the use of lamb, she shrugged and said: "We have lots of friends from the Grey Street Mosque who like to share a meal." I opted for politeness and left it there, and departed with this recipe of hers and two chocolate gouramis in a transparent plastic bag. They turned out to be bastards and decimated most of the fish population of my aquarium. But, I've been cooking this curry ever since.
This dish feeds 2 to 3 diners. NB: at these quantities, the curry paste actually produces a very mild curry. I personally ramp up the number of red chillies in the spice mix if I'm cooking it for myself, but cook it at these spice quantities as a "crowd pleaser" if catering for those who don't like things too spicy.
Lamb decisions
When it comes to the lamb, sure, you can go to town spending a lot of money on the best cuts, but I've found that it is actually the cheaper cuts that work best for this dish; neck or shoulder. In fact, my favourite lamb cuts to use for this dish are what gets called "lamb trim". It isn't any particular part of the beast—it could be a mix of shoulder, leg or practically any other part of the animal. Quite literally what the name implies, it's the bits butchers trim away when cutting those sought-after expensive cuts; the pieces of meat generally being too small to sell as cuts in themselves, once considered "poor meat" by the wealthy fit only for stocks or to be ground into sausages and the like. It's not always that easy to find, but if you can, I thoroughly recommended it: it's usually fairly lean and ideal to cut into the bite-size pieces required by this recipe.
This is not a "quick dish". Apart from when it really does need to cook on a high heat in the first stage of the cooking, this is one of those dishes that comes into its own when you've got time to slow-cook it on a very low heat for at least 3 hours. I usually cook it when I'm editing some sprawling text or have a translation to complete and set my timer to get up and check on it at relevant intervals. Do it right and it produces that kind of melt-in-the-mouth consistency to the lamb. Don't worry: this is far less about technical skill and far more about patience and a little care; an easy-to-cook dish, if not quick.
Shopping list
For the curry paste
6 garlic cloves, grated, crushed or finely chopped
4 x 5cm pieces of fresh root ginger, peeled and roughly chopped
6 to 8 red chillies (to heat preference), roughly chopped
3 tbsp ground cumin
3 tbsp ground dried coriander
1 tspn mustard seeds
1 tbsp ground cinnamon
2 tspn fennel seeds
1 tspn turmeric
3 or 4 dried star anise
3 tbsp garam masala
3 tbsp tomato purée
Approx. 1 tbsp of peanut oil (or vegetable oil)
For the lamb and fennel curry
3 tbspn peanut oil
2 tspn garlic & ginger paste
1 tspn turmeric
3 to 4 bay leaves
2 brown onions, sliced—cut in half then sliced vertically to produce "strips"
Approx. 400g boneless lamb; trim off 80% of any fat; bite-sized chunks
2 red bell peppers, cut into fairly large irregular pieces
1 medium fennel, cut into fairly large irregular pieces
1 vegetable stock cube/jelly (see note below in "alternatives") diluted in approx. 200ml boiling water
Approx. 150g to 200g medium closed-cup mushrooms, thickly sliced
2 tbspn flaked almonds
2 tbspn seedless sultanas
salt and freshly ground black pepper
Cooking Method
For the spice paste
Blend all the dry ingredients together by hand with a pestle and mortar or in a blender or spice grinder
Add the wet ingredients together with a little water (if necessary) and blend into a paste.
For the curry
Heat the peanut (or vegetable) oil in saucepan with a lid on a fairly high heat. When clearly hot, add the garlic & ginger paste, stirring as it sizzles to prevent sticking. After it has been cooking for about 1 min, add the sliced onion and seal for another minute or so. Add about 1 tspn of your spice paste and stir in
Cover and sweat this mix, or stir to ensure it doesn't stick if necessary. For this particular dish, you're not so much waiting for the onions to soften as to be on the cusp of browning before you add the red bell pepper. Mix together, cover and allow to sauté, stirring occasionally to prevent sticking
Only when the onions are browned and the red peppers are well on their way to being softened, add the chopped fennel. Sprinkle the turmeric over the top of it, then stir in, ensuring that the fennel pieces seal with the juices in the pan
Once the fennel is sealed, add all but 1 or so tspn of the spice paste and the bay leaves to the ingredients and stir in, allowing to cook together for 3 to 4 mins
Push the ingredients of the saucepan towards the edges, making an empty space at the centre. Add the lamb, turning the pieces so that it seals on all sides. As soon as the lamb is sealed, add the mushrooms—NB: with this recipe, it's about using the natural quality of mushrooms. Mushrooms are great at absorbing excess fats—and concomitant flavours—so in this case you want to introduce them as the last "unsealed" ingredients after the lamb has released its fat into the pan. Stir together, cover and allow to sweat on a high heat for a few minutes, stirring if necessary
Uncover, add the remainder of the spice paste and stir in. Add your stock (or alternative; see below) diluted in about 200ml of boiling water (this will vary on the shape of your saucepan, but basically you want only about one third of the solid ingredients to sit above the "waterline"). Cover and bring to the boil. Boil vigorously for about 5 to 6 mins. Then, massively reduce the heat so that the ingredients are barely simmering
Simmer the ingredients on a low heat for at least 1.5 hours, stirring about every 15 mins (reduce the heat even further if you find them sticking between stirring intervals)
After your curry has been simmering for 1.5 hours (nearing 2 hours in overall cooking time), add the flaked almonds (NB: don't crush them). Stir them in and simmer for approx. 15 mins. Then, add the sultanas; allow them to also simmer after stirring in
At this point, you need to pay more frequent attention to the dish. The almonds will begin to naturally flake somewhat, bringing a rich nuttiness to the sauce, and the sugars in the sultanas will speed up reduction. There isn't a fixed "rule". When it achieves your desired consistency, it's good to go. If there are any "guidelines" they that you want the sauce a little more liquid if serving with rice, a little thicker if serving with naan breads or chapatis (usually referred to as "roti" in Indian Ocean cuisines)
Plate and served with your accompaniments and condiments of choice
Side Dishes
Basmati rice—particularly "Durban yellow rice" (cooked with turmeric)—is probably the most common accompaniment with this dish. As mentioned above, I personally prefer it with naan breads (not that often served in South Africa's east coast cuisine) or roti (chapatis).
Almost all South African "Indian" food is served with raw sambals and condiments. Given that the almonds and sultanas bring a certain sweetness and the fennel and star anise a mellow aniseed-like flavour, I prefer "spiky" condiments that offer a tart contrast. Thus, my favourites are lime pickle or a simple sambal of diced raw onions, tomatoes and red chillies in a little wine or malt vinegar. The latter is also a useful way of offering an add-in spicy option if cooking for both those who love and don't love fiery food.
Alternatives
Vegans and vegetarians
The easiest way to make this a vegan or veggie dish is to simply incrementally increase the quantities of red bell peppers, fennel and mushrooms—and, having tried that, it's great; frankly, better than the version with Quorn pieces. Simply bypass the stage where you add the lamb.
Pescatarians
The only versions I've really liked are with octopus or squid. I suspect the dish's flavours are simply too "heavy" to work with other types of fish and seafood—and, yes, I have tried
Other
In accordance with Mrs Panday's recipe, I sometimes don't use vegetable stock cubes/jellies with this recipe but make a stock from scratch by cooking down flat-leaf parsley, onions and celery—and nothing else. Yes, I could claim that it makes a massive difference. But, in reality, I think it doesn't, as long as you avoid stock cubes of the varieties containing "French" or "Italian" herb concoctions.
Accompaniments
For some unknown reason, I usually end up having this one with simple soda water and a slice of lemon—with which it's great— and, more recently, with pomegranate juice and soda; equally great.
On the wine front, I'm not generally a fan of Shiraz (aka Syrah). But, so the legend goes, the Shiraz grape originated in Iran—though it seems that the legend that it did may have originated in France. Pesky things like actual history aside, it's always struck me as fitting to give Shiraz a whirl where this dish is concerned, especially a South African Shiraz. And, that's often ended in an uncannily satisfying result. To date the go-to option that has delivered most consistently is Shiraz from Driehoek. Every one I've ever had with this dish—over the years, that's been quite a few—has offered the perfect accompaniment of spiciness and a notable, not too overpowering, woody underbelly; on-the-money qualities for this dish. It was also great with a pinot noir from New Zealand, but can't remember which one right now.
And, of course, curry and beer go together like Bananarama and Fun Boy Three. So far my personal favourite combination is a good old-fashioned Belgian Duvel that has the clout and depth this mild but incredibly complex curry deserves. It ain't what you do, it's the way that you do it...
Comments