I love to cook. I didn't know how to cook until I met my husband. I learned how to cook from him. My mother was always very disdainful of my use of recipes. A real cook didn't need recipes. These days I don't use recipes much maybe occasionally as a guideline. Two compliments my mother paid me in my life regarding my cooking that I never forgot were that my julienne potatoes and Indian fried egg was exactly like my grandmothers. Coming from my mother this was high praise indeed. She wasn't someone who believed in handing out praise like candy at Halloween. It could make you prideful and the Bible calls us to be humble. She and I had a very different definition of humility and pride.
After her first cancer recovery I had the pleasure to cook her 60th birthday dinner. She didn't turn her nose up at any of it and actually ate my cooking. I'll take that as praise as this was the best I was likely to get. But the last thing I ever cooked for her was at the Father's Day barbecue at my cousin's house in 2014, not too long before she died. This time she took the time to praise my chana chat and the barbecue chicken. She took the time to say a lot of things to everyone.
Since she died, I haven't been able to really cook good Indian much less Bengali food. My lately, I have been craving chicken korma which is a curried chicken cooked in a yogurt sauce. I found recipes online and in books which didn't work very well. My father suggested I call my mother's sister in Atlanta and ask her for the recipe because she cooks it very well. Ah the wonders of modern technology where you can leave a Facebook message for your aunt and she calls you on your cell phone at work to tell you the recipe so you can cook it when you get home. What's not to love? I was excited.
As I hug up the phone and walked away, I was filled with a sense of elation. With a few words scribbled on a paper and a conversation that was a mixture of English and Bengali, a piece of me was restored to me. I work with my Dad so my next stop was to go see him. He handed me a $20 after a short conversation of the recipe so I could make some for him. This was a big deal because ever since my Mom died, my father and I have lived in the same house and he has resisted all attempts on my part to cook anything for him. But that's a story for another day.
I picked up the chicken and a white Spanish onion as I really can't stand the smell of regular onions. Haven't been able to since my first pregnancy where I stood two houses down from my parents because my mother was cooking and the smell was making me nauseous. Thankfully my friend and neighbor at the time had pity on me and decided to take me to breakfast. That chicken came out amazing. The smell that permeated through the kitchen and the house reminded me of times when my mother would cook it. No it wasn't her recipe but her sister's but I figured they had to learn it from the same place, my grandmother. In a way, my aunt's recipe connected me back to my mother and for the first time, I felt happiness swell up in my heart since she died. It was the first time when memories of her wasn't a deep aching loss but filled with sweet nostalgia. Both my father and my brother loved the chicken.
I know....where is the recipe already!
Here it is....but a word of caution, it doesn't have measurements. I eyeballed it all. If you are an experienced cook, you'll be able to make adjustments. The eyes and nose are the key to this recipe. So here goes.
I used chicken thighs and drumsticks (perhaps 3-4 lbs of meat), four pieces of thighs, cleaned and cut in half and six pieces of drumsticks with the bottom and skin chopped off. I seasoned this with whole black peppers, cloves, cardamon, cinnamon sticks, ground coriander, and ground garam massala,
Once they had softened I added the chicken, brought it up to heat, covered it and let it simmer at low until the water started to render. I did this for maybe 30-40 minutes.
I covered it and cooked the chicken it on low for another 30 minutes or so. The key thing to remember is that the total cook time was about an hour.
Remember - depending on how thick you like you sauce this could be between 15 - 30 minutes.
After her first cancer recovery I had the pleasure to cook her 60th birthday dinner. She didn't turn her nose up at any of it and actually ate my cooking. I'll take that as praise as this was the best I was likely to get. But the last thing I ever cooked for her was at the Father's Day barbecue at my cousin's house in 2014, not too long before she died. This time she took the time to praise my chana chat and the barbecue chicken. She took the time to say a lot of things to everyone.
Since she died, I haven't been able to really cook good Indian much less Bengali food. My lately, I have been craving chicken korma which is a curried chicken cooked in a yogurt sauce. I found recipes online and in books which didn't work very well. My father suggested I call my mother's sister in Atlanta and ask her for the recipe because she cooks it very well. Ah the wonders of modern technology where you can leave a Facebook message for your aunt and she calls you on your cell phone at work to tell you the recipe so you can cook it when you get home. What's not to love? I was excited.
As I hug up the phone and walked away, I was filled with a sense of elation. With a few words scribbled on a paper and a conversation that was a mixture of English and Bengali, a piece of me was restored to me. I work with my Dad so my next stop was to go see him. He handed me a $20 after a short conversation of the recipe so I could make some for him. This was a big deal because ever since my Mom died, my father and I have lived in the same house and he has resisted all attempts on my part to cook anything for him. But that's a story for another day.
I picked up the chicken and a white Spanish onion as I really can't stand the smell of regular onions. Haven't been able to since my first pregnancy where I stood two houses down from my parents because my mother was cooking and the smell was making me nauseous. Thankfully my friend and neighbor at the time had pity on me and decided to take me to breakfast. That chicken came out amazing. The smell that permeated through the kitchen and the house reminded me of times when my mother would cook it. No it wasn't her recipe but her sister's but I figured they had to learn it from the same place, my grandmother. In a way, my aunt's recipe connected me back to my mother and for the first time, I felt happiness swell up in my heart since she died. It was the first time when memories of her wasn't a deep aching loss but filled with sweet nostalgia. Both my father and my brother loved the chicken.
I know....where is the recipe already!
Here it is....but a word of caution, it doesn't have measurements. I eyeballed it all. If you are an experienced cook, you'll be able to make adjustments. The eyes and nose are the key to this recipe. So here goes.
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| This is what the season chicken should look like |
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| Step 1 Freshly diced onions, garam massala, and bay leaves cooking on olive o |
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| Step 2 Once onions are soft and caramelized add freshly chopped ginger, garlic, ground coriander and a little salt |
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| This is what it should look like when it's ready for the chicken |
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| Step 4 Mix ground coriander and sugar with plain non-fat yogurt |
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| Step 5 Push chicken to side and add yogurt mixture slowly into the sauce |
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| Mix the rest of the chicken and sauce together. |
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| What it looks like when it's been cooking for over an hour |
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| Double, double toil and trouble, Fire burn and cauldron bubble. That's how you reduce the sauce Very crucial to recite Shakespeare at this point |
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| At last you have Chicken Korma |
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