IT'S A LIFESTYLE CHOICE

Yesterday evening before going to sleep I left a box of Maltesers on my apartment mate's bed, in the care of an evil stuffed monkey. She came in later, and I could hear the argument from my room. "My Maltesers!" "No, they're mine!" No, mine!" "Mine mine mine!!!" "My Maltesers, curse you!" "Mine!" "They're mine, you nasty selfish hairball!"
It's not that she particularly likes Maltesers.
She just likes arguing with a monkey.
It lasted for over an hour.


Some people like the strangest things. No, this post is NOT about sexual peccadilloes -- both my readers and I are presumably exceptionally normal in that regard; privately enthusiastic but publicly reticent, with no pain or strenuous lifting involved, nor metal implements -- and also not about strange cocktails made with risky ingredients. Although I did recently hear about a woman who has dedicated an old wine barrel to a mixture of tequila and sherry, married for a month or two, then dolled-up with blueberry liqueur and a dash of bitters. Which, if you ask me, is as close to the Antichrist as anyone can come. It sounds nasty.

It's more or less about food.


CHICKEN CURRY, VERY BRITISH

Half a dozen chicken thighs.
Two onions, sliced.
Two TBS mango chutney.
Two Tsp. ground coriander.
One Tsp. ground cumin.
One Tsp. turmeric.
One Tsp. cayenne.
One TBS flour.
One TBS lemon juice.
One TBS sugar.
Dash of Worcestershire sauce.
A jigger of sherry.
Bay leaf or two.
Chili pepper or two.
Two to three cups water.

Gently sauté the chicken thighs till nicely coloured in some oil. Add the onions, and let them softly brown. Add the water, bay leaf, and chili (chopped or not) and put on a low simmer. Mix the remaining ingredients and stir into the pot. Cook till the chicken is tender.
Which, for a scraggy rooster, might be an hour or two, but for a fine young hen would be about forty minutes.


ENGLISH "INDIAN" RICE

Four cups cooked rice.
Two TBS peach preserves.
One minced hot chili.
One minced onion.
One peeled seeded chopped tomato.
Half a Tsp. ground coriander.
Quarter Tsp. turmeric.
Half a cup yoghurt.
A bit of chopped parsley or cilantro.
A little bit finely minced ginger.

Fry the onion in some oil till light brown. Add the chili and tomato, stir to incorporate, and add the coriander and turmeric. When the fragrance of the spices becomes noticeable mix in everything else and heat through.
Serve with the chicken curry shown above.


Necessary adjuncts to a proper English excuse for Indian food are sliced cucumbers in yoghurt, a bowl of chutney, chopped onions, a hot sauce, and a jar of Patak's lime or mango pickle.
And perhaps fried nuts.

Possibly also a salad, but the jury is still out on that.

Personally, I also like potato chunks cooked crusty, flavoured with ground dark roasted cumin seeds, cayenne, and a pinch of amchoor.
But that isn't properly British. Even if peas are added.
I also don't like drinking beer with food.
Sherry is always an option, though.
Sherry goes with everything.
Even tequila.


I like to say that food is better than sex. It isn't of course, but it is by far a much more reliable indulgence, and involves far less wishful thinking and fevered imagination. And it's what you really SHOULD be doing on a Saturday night, instead of cruising the clubs south of Market where all the crazy young folks are, looking for intoxicated scalliwag.
Scalliwag found in bars is never good.
Especially not the next day.
Curry, however, is.

Heat it up in the microwave and have it for breakfast.
You can't do that with scalliwag.

Your mother would approve.



I said earlier that this post was not about sexual peccadilloes. That was not entirely correct. Upon rereading what I wrote, certain elements jump out. One of which should either precede or follow curry, but never coincide with it. I am fairly certain that bad things happen if it does.


Note that it's a good idea to wear rubber gloves when handling chilies.
Think of the aforementioned bad things.
Extrapolate.



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