Cookery: note to self
Oct. 10th, 2006 08:05 pmWhen slipping weighed quantity of washed toor dal into boiling water, it may very well be that one's hands are wet.
It may very well be, in consequence, that little yellow lentils stick to one's fingers.
It may very well be that the best method to dislodge same into boiling water is to make flicking motions of the fingers.
Be that as it may, next time it would undoubtedly be good to make sure that one's flicking fingers will still be above the water-level, at maximum extension of flick.
Owwww!
In other words: yes, it's curry night again. I have made the mutton curry again, with variations (more chilli, largely: bad Chaz!), and am cooking a vegetable dal to go with.
Actually, I made the curry yesterday, on the grounds of spare time and inevitable improvement overnight; so I also shopped for it yesterday; so I had the inestimable pleasure of being once more in the Brighton, the finest Asian food store that I know. It's one of those places, you cannot go in there in a hurry. Usually there are phenomenal queues, both at the meat counter and at the tills; it can easily take ten minutes to be served, and sometimes it's twenty. Patience is not only a virtue, it's essential.
But this is mid-Ramadan, and if you hit the right time of day, it's unnervingly empty. This doesn't mean you get out any quicker. Lacking customers, the guys talk to each other: quiet, smiling conversations, in languages that I don't speak. It took four of them ten minutes to trim and cut my shoulder of sheep (which they do on a terrifyingly open bandsaw, heedless of any safety measures I can see; none of them is noticeably missing a finger, but then, there's a rapid turnover of young men in the butchery section...), and then I got to listen to Haji laughing with friends for five minutes at the till. It's fine, he knows it's fine; I've been shopping there for twenty-five years. And he still scolds me for not spending enough.
It may very well be, in consequence, that little yellow lentils stick to one's fingers.
It may very well be that the best method to dislodge same into boiling water is to make flicking motions of the fingers.
Be that as it may, next time it would undoubtedly be good to make sure that one's flicking fingers will still be above the water-level, at maximum extension of flick.
Owwww!
In other words: yes, it's curry night again. I have made the mutton curry again, with variations (more chilli, largely: bad Chaz!), and am cooking a vegetable dal to go with.
Actually, I made the curry yesterday, on the grounds of spare time and inevitable improvement overnight; so I also shopped for it yesterday; so I had the inestimable pleasure of being once more in the Brighton, the finest Asian food store that I know. It's one of those places, you cannot go in there in a hurry. Usually there are phenomenal queues, both at the meat counter and at the tills; it can easily take ten minutes to be served, and sometimes it's twenty. Patience is not only a virtue, it's essential.
But this is mid-Ramadan, and if you hit the right time of day, it's unnervingly empty. This doesn't mean you get out any quicker. Lacking customers, the guys talk to each other: quiet, smiling conversations, in languages that I don't speak. It took four of them ten minutes to trim and cut my shoulder of sheep (which they do on a terrifyingly open bandsaw, heedless of any safety measures I can see; none of them is noticeably missing a finger, but then, there's a rapid turnover of young men in the butchery section...), and then I got to listen to Haji laughing with friends for five minutes at the till. It's fine, he knows it's fine; I've been shopping there for twenty-five years. And he still scolds me for not spending enough.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-10-10 10:29 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-10-11 07:42 am (UTC)And also - Brighton Food Store... MMM... drool...