This vegan butterbean curry with mint is my riff on Indian Diasporan cooking from Africa's east coast of the kinds used to make bunny chow, here with a few little touches that raise the bar. Vegan by default, it's also another dish that is highly versatile when catering for mixed groups of diners or, indeed, how you would like to serve it.
Happy bunnies
This isn't one of the many Indo-African authentic recipes I learned knocking about on Africa's Eastern Seaboard. Rather, it's my variation on a number these recipes and, in particular, the curries used in bunny chow, Durban's legendary takeaway dish that involves filling a hollowed out half loaf of bread—traditionally cheap white bread—with curry.
Like British pasties or pies, the origins of the dish are in being an easily portable hearty meal to be consumed on-site during a day of exhausting work. Also like them, it's a dish traditionally eaten with the hands and the "bowl" is also eaten, the ultimate in waste-free, recyclable culinary consumption.Over a century, what started out as a cheap workers' meal gained far broader social popularity, not dissimilar to the kebab in Europe. In Durban in particular—though by the 1970s they could be found in all cities across Southern Africa—those lining up in cheap 'n cheerful joints and outside food vans selling bunny chow were as likely to include surfers and late-night partygoers as workers coming off shift at the local sugar mills or docks. In the last decade, as with trends elsewhere, this humble paesan dish has been revisited by top chefs or rebranded for hipsters in trendy eateries.
What's in a name? |
According to the most common explanations, the rather curious name of "bunny chow" is believed to be a corruption of the Sanskrit word "bania", meaning "merchant". Local trading stores set up by Indian immigrants became known as "bunny man shops" and spotted a business opportunity to branch out, selling cooked food in addition to their other wares. The word "chow"—just as in California—appears likely to have come from Chinese immigrants. Prior to the waves of immigration from India starting in the second half of the 19th century, Chinese indentured labourers had actually been the first to work the sugar plantations of Africa's Eastern Seaboard, resulting in a period of "crossover". In the later 19th century, the majority of Chinese labourers, having completed their term of indenture, chose to return to China of head to the Americas, which they heard offered better opportunities. The tiny Chinese minority that remained was mainly comprised of those who had created successful businesses as traders or in the early hospitality industry. Thus, bunny chow is thought to be a conflation of both. Literally meaning "merchant shop food", it's a uniquely African origin story of the takeaway. |
Like many dishes produced by African Indian outlets, the recipe evolved to serve both local Hindu and Muslim populations, along with options—who doesn't like chicken?—that appeal to wider audiences. The two most common versions are the vegetarian and mutton varieties. The (halal) mutton version tends to be cooked from scratch on its own because the meat requires long, slow cooking, but versions such as chicken bunny chow, usually involve adding cooked chicken to the baseline vegan or vegetarian curry at a later stage.
Most bunny chow curries use filling, cheap ingredients such as potatoes, carrots, peas and almost always, beans. Butterbeans are often used, as are haricots, cannellini or kidney beans. Some successful vendors have also discovered versions cooked with tinned baked beans can be a real crowd pleaser.
Places offering a broader menu will also offer curries of different levels of spiciness. But, the infamously hot "Durban curry"with its signature use of red cayenne is the default.
All of that said, while inspired by the heritage of bunny chow, I very rarely serve it in this form but more usually with rice; Durban yellow rice, basmati or, as here, with what I call "Marisa" rice, a kind of Filipino sticky rice. I have no idea what it's actually called, so I just named it after the woman who taught me to cook it. No, not traditional with a "Durban curry", but I learned that kids love it.
...not by bread alone
My recipe foregoes the potatoes that are in a lot of traditional bunny chow curries. I find the carbs-on-carbs aspect of potatoes with bread or rice a total overkill. However, I always retain the classic butterbeans, carrots and peas along with other vegetables.
A lot of Indian and African-Indian recipes don't use stock. But in African-Indian cooking many of the more "humble" dishes, such as this one, use stock to add flavour and stretch humble ingredients without richer, more expensive flavours such as coconut milk or meat.
I developed this recipe at a time when I was cooking a lot for groups that included children and adults with different dietary needs—or should that be demands? The combination of spices and vegetables make this a fairly sweet curry, which made it popular with kids, exactly why I was drawn to lift the mint from other regional Indian Diasporan dishes and use green chilli rather than red; to balance out the sweetness with freshness. I also prefer to use fresh chopped ginger and garlic for this one rather than my go-to garlic and ginger paste.
I have steered clear of the fiery red cayenne used in classic Durban curries, which is also why this one isn't as red in colour. It wasn't because I don't like them; au contraire. I just got a little embarrassed "chowing down", delighted, then noticing that I was the only one at the table who hadn't made polite excuses about being full after two mouthfuls. But, if you really are a fan of fiery, add 1 tspn of red cayenne pepper powder to the spice base below.
To be fair to the nippers, most of the children coming back for more of this one—without the cayenne!—had no problem with pretty spicy dishes, unlike some of their parents. However, even though dialled back, I would say that in these quantities the dish is medium spicy. If that's too much for you, halve the quantity of chilli powder mixed into the paste.
This version is for 2 to 3 diners, but you can readily scale up quantities. Please note that the images here are indicative, cooked in slightly different quantities. Also note the baby carrots: there is a reason for that that will become apparent in another recipe. Ordinarily I would simply use bog-standard carrots cut into thumb's length batons.
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Shopping list
for the spice base
2 tspns mild Madras curry powder
1 tspn chilli powder
1 tspn ground coriander (dhania)
1 tspn ground cumin (jeera)
1 tspn whole black peppercorns
½ tspn garam masala
½ tspn whole cloves
½ tspn fennel seeds
½ a cinnamon stick
2 dried bay leaves
4 or 5 whole green cardamom pods
a dab of sunflower oil
salt and pepper to taste
for the vegan butterbean curry with mint
2 medium onions (red or brown), halved and sliced
1 medium fresh bell pepper (red or yellow), sliced vertically, then halved
1 large (i.e. milder) green chilli; de-seeded and sliced
3 cloves of garlic, chopped
3 to 4 tbspns sunflower oil
A thumb's length of fresh ginger, peeled and chopped
5 or 6 medium, very ripe fresh tomatoes and their juice, roughly puréed
the juice and pulp of 1 fresh lime (or small lemon)
500ml vegetable stock
1 400g tin of cooked butterbeans (or equivalent cooked from dried)
3 medium carrots, peeled and cut into thumb's length batons
1 cup of garden peas (fresh or frozen)
A generous clutch of fresh mint, minced
1 tbspn of demerara sugar
2 tbspns malt vinegar
½ tspn garam masala
Boiling water, as needed
salt to taste
for the mushroom, coriander and amchoor side dish
Approx. 300g closed cup mushrooms, cut into thick slices
A generous clutch of fresh coriander, roughly chopped
A little sunflower oil
1 level tspn amchoor (green mango powder)
salt to taste
for the Marisa rice
Enough basmati rice, (approx. ½ a cup per diner)
Approx. 40g creamed coconut, finely grated
A stick of fresh lemongrass (lightly crushed)
2 makrut lime leaves
salt to taste
optional alternative sides and additional condiments
Bread — traditionally white bread; see above
Sambal — chopped raw tomatoes, red chilli and onions in a little vinegar
Chutney, pickle or achar
Cooking Method
the spice base
Mix together the ground cumin, ground coriander and chilli powder with a dab of oil, adding a few droplets of water at a time. You want the result to be a thick, almost solid paste
The rest of the whole spices and other ground spices do not get mixed into this
the vegan butterbean curry with mint
In an appropriate pot or kadai with a lid, heat half of the oil on a medium-high heat. While still heating, add the whole spices—peppercorns, fennel seeds, cardamoms pods, cinnamon, bay leaves etc. At the first sign of the tiny bubbles in the oil, first add the Madras curry powder and the garam masala. As soon as they release their aromas, add all of the paste and let it heat for about 30 seconds without stirring in
Add the onions and thoroughly stir, using additional sunflower oil, very little at a time, to thoroughly coat the onions. Keep stirring to prevent sticking.
When the onions are sealed, add the green chilli, chopped garlic and ginger. Stir in and reduce to a low-to-medium heat. Add just enough stock to coat the bottom of the pan; to deglaze any juices and spices adhering to the bottom of the pot and prevent sticking. Cover and sweat. Sweat for about 7 to 10mins. Occasionally uncover and stir, topping up with small amounts of stock as needed
Add the bell pepper and a dab more oil to ensure it's fully coated as you stir it in. Cover and sweat, much as in the previous step, stirring intermittently and adding dashes of stock to prevent sticking. In this recipe, it's important that the onions first cook on a low heat until they are thoroughly soft, starting to brown or actually browning if you want a "heavier" flavour in the final dish
Once the onions begin turning golden—it doesn't matter if the bell pepper is still a bit firm—add the tomatoes and all of their juice. Add the lime juice and pulp. Turn up the heat, stir in and sizzle for about 5mins, adding a little stock if needed to prevent sticking
Then pour in the remaining stock. Stir and increase the heat enough so that the pot comes to a healthy boil for approx 3mins, stirring. Cover and reduce the heat to a healthy simmer. Simmer, covered, for approx. 20mins, stirring occasionally
Add the carrots. At this point, there should still be enough liquid in the pot to ensure the carrots are covered by the liquid so that you don't need to add liquid. But, add a little boiling water if it has reduced rapidly. Cover and simmer for a further 10mins
Drain the butterbeans but keep the starchy water from the tin. It's excellent for both flavour and reduction. If the curry has reduced so the contents are not at least almost covered by the liquid, pour in "butterbean water" as needed. Simmer for approx. 5 to 6 mins, stirring only once
Add the peas and stir in. After a minute (2 if using frozen) add the mint, vinegar and sugar (or, 2 tbspns of English mint sauce if using the hack) and stir in. Cook uncovered, facilitating reduction. If, after 5mins or so, it's still not notably reducing, turn up the heat slightly. As long as you stir it regularly, it won't stick
When the sauce nears optimum consistency, add the garam masala and stir in. Reduce to a very low heat, cover and allow to barely simmer for a further 2mins before removing from the heat. Allow it to rest while you prepare to serve
Take to table with the rice, mushrooms and any desired condiments
OR, if serving as bunny chow, cut your loaf (or loaves) into desired portions (from a half to a quarter of a loaf as desired. Using a sharp knife cut down vertically into the loaf portions leaving a minimum of 2cm to the outer crust. Gently, pull the centre out of the loaf portions using clean hands, ideally in a large, single wedge. Very importantly, leave enough of the bread intact at the base to prevent the curry from falling through the "floor". Gently fill the cavity with the curry. Pop the wedge back on top of the loaf, like a "hat", and take to table. NB: do NOT, pre-prepare the loaves: doing so only at the plating stage prevents the wedge of bread plucked from the centre from drying out. Take to table.
the Marisa rice
Start this before cooking the curry. Rinse the rice only minimally–you don't want to remove most of the starch. Then soak it in water for at least an hour before cooking
Add the rice and the "soaking" water to a pot, adding the relevant amount of water proportional to how you ordinarily would. Salt, add the lemongrass, makrut lime leaves and creamed coconut and cook as you ordinarily would. The only caveat is that you need to stir it regularly and may need to add small amounts of boiling water to ensure sufficient liquid in the pan to prevent sticking and burning
When you can taste that the rice is fully cooked, tasting a few grains at a time, turn off the heat, cover and allow the excess liquid to fully evaporate. Remove the leaves and lemongrass stem and stir thoroughly with a fork before serve. NB: this rice will not really "fluff up" but should have a consistency similar to the better known Thai sticky rice. Garnish with a little mint sauce (optional). Serve with the curry
the mushroom, coriander and amchoor side dish
This dish only takes about 5 or 6mins to cook, so can be done as the curry nears its final stages. In a frying pan or wok, heat a little sunflower oil on a medium-high heat and add the mushrooms, stirring regularly
When the mushrooms begin to soften and release moisture into the pan, reduce to a medium heat, add the coriander and stir in—make sure you wait until there is enough moisture to prevent the coriander from sticking and burning
Sprinkle in the amchoor and stir in. Season with a little salt then stir frequently until the mushrooms are optimally cooked and the liquid has cooked off almost entirely. Decant to a serving dish and take to table
Alternatives
This is by default a vegan dish. But, it's also one of those very adaptable dishes that works well for mixed groups of diners where some people don't see vegan or vegetarian food as "a real meal". In such situations, marinade boneless, skinless chicken breasts or thighs cut into bite-size pieces in a marinaded of fresh lime juice, a chopped green chilli and a little garlic and ginger for about an hour before you cook the baseline curry. As the curry nears completion, heat a little oil in a pan or wok on a medium- high heat and stir fry the chicken pieces together with the marinade contents until the chicken is properly cooked, but still tender. When the pan is almost dry, decant the relevant portion of the cooked curry into this pan. Reduce the heat and allow it to simmer for another 4 to 5mins so that the chicken flavours cook in. Then serve alongside the vegan version for other diners.
If everyone is eating chicken, I still use this method, but you can obviously also use chicken stock in the main curry. When doing the chicken-only version, I will often add the sautéd mushrooms with coriander and amchoor into the main curry at the same time as the chicken, simmering them together in the final stages. I've never tried any other version than chicken for carnivores. Beef and mint seems odd and lamb requires a different cooking method. I have, however, done guinea fowl breasts cooked in the same manner as the chicken—for a little longer—and that was great.
Similarly, I've never been drawn to try a pescatarian version. Somehow butterbeans and mint seem instinctively to not be a good combination with seafood or fish in my psychological palate, but, who knows?
Pairings
Since I tend to view this dish as a healthy quotidian meal, I can't say that I ever remember having had it with any particularly memorable or fancy wines. While, like many Indo-African dishes, the spices theoretically make it "colour agnostic", I do always tend to head in a dry white or rosé direction with this one, whether the vegan or chicken version. There's something about the freshness of the mint and smoothness of the butterbeans that seems to demand it.
As usual, my default setting with this one would be to head in the direction of my beloved Cape chenin blancs, especially those with peppery undertones that pick up the black peppercorns. It's also notable that it once worked very well with a zesty cheap 'n cheerful Colombard, also from the Cape and not usually a grape on my radar. And, I remember it working well with a mid-range Languedoc Picpoul that had a bit of a grapefruit thing going on, though I can't for the life of me remember which it was. So only broad strokes, I'm afraid.
As with almost all curries it works well with a broad range of beers though I most often find myself—as here— quaffing chilled soda water with lemon or lime when I eat it.
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