Passport & Plate - Nena's Prawn Curry
Mozambique | Friday, March 6, 2015 | 4 photos
Ingredients
2 red onions, chopped
2 garlic cloves, minced
2 red chilis, chopped
Thumb of ginger, chopped
1 Tbsp curry powder
2ml crushed coriander seeds
Zest of one lemon
2ml tumeric
4 medium tomatoes, very ripe, chopped
3/4 of a can of coconut milk
0.5 kg prawns, shelled and de-veined
2ml salt
Squeeze of Lemon
Handful of coriander leaves
8ml tomato paste
Splash of Olive oil
How to prepare this recipe1. Add the onion, garlic, ginger, chili, curry powder, coriander seeds, tomato paste, lemon zest and tumeric into a saucepan on medium heat with a splash of olive oil. Cook for about 5 minutes, allowing the ingredients to become fragrant.
2. Add the chopped tomato and all the juice from chopping and allow to cook for another two minutes so the tomato begins to soften.
3. Deglaze with the coconut milk. Mix ingredients well.
4. Add the prawns. Cook until they are just done, about 4 minutes. Remember that when the stove is turned off, they will still cook a little from the heat of the sauce. Remove from heat.
5. Add the coriander leaves. squeeze of lemon and salt. Taste your recipe and adjust the seasoning as required.
The story behind this recipeIt’s been a long day in the Mozambican markets. The air is heavy with humidity, hot sun sears our shoulders as we walk to and from the car. Finally, by late afternoon, we are trudging up the stairs to the seventh floor, scowling at the broken elevator signs.
Opening the door of our apartment, hot and fatigued, we are ready for a nap. And then suddenly, everyone’s eye light up, our backs straighten, and we carefully peer into the kitchen.
There, at the stove, stands Nena. Out of the kitchen wafts the intoxicating smell of her prawn curry. She shoos us away, muttering that dinner will be ready later. She is the military woman of the kitchen.
When dinner time arrives, she will carry it out in a pot of industrial-kitchen proportions. I will raise my eyebrows with a smirk, as I always do; but that enormous pot will empty in one sitting, as it always does.
The prawn curry is not just a dish to me. Its dinners with the extended family, yelling to be heard over the chaos of the meal; my father demanding to eat curry straight from the pot and my godfather playing guitar. It’s love and it’s family.
My Nena is a wonderfully crazy woman – she’s fiery and passionate and loving. She told me that she would send a pot of this curry on a bus to Johannesburg if I wanted (jokes aside, I think she would actually do that). She taught me that cooking is about finding the best ingredients, which are usually the ones in the markets. Freshness is more important than convenience. You need to love your food before it has even become a meal yet, she says.
