Passport & Plate - Tastebud and Memory Rousing Chettiar Fish Curry
India | Thursday, March 5, 2015 | 2 photos
Ingredients
King Fish (or a flavour-full, firm, white fleshed fish that holds its shape when cooked) - 500g
Small onions (or shallots) - 100g
Garlic - a few small cloves - 100g
Tomatoes (I tend to skin them beforehand) - 250g
Tamarind (a piece the size of a marble) - soaked in 2 cups of water
Ginger (a piece the size of a small walnut)
Chilli powder - 3 tsp
Ground turmeric - 1/4 tsp
Ground coriander seeds - 2 tsp
Sesame oil - 4 tbs
Mustard seeds - 1 tsp
Fenugreek seeds - 1/4 tsp
Cumin seeds - 1/4 tsp
Malabar Tamarind - 3 pieces
salt - to taste
Fresh Coriander leaves - to garnish (curry leaves also go work, but I prefer coriander or a mix of both)
How to prepare this recipe1. Clean and cut fish into chunks
2. Chop onion/shallots, garlic and tomatoes
3. Soak the tamarind in 2 cups water and extract the pulp
4. Heat the sesame oil in a pan (I tend to use a wok), add mustard seeds, fenugreek seeds, cumin seeds and fry until they are spitting and cracking.
5. Add the chopped onions, garlic, tomatoes and fry for few minutes.
6. Add the chilli powder, coriander powder, turmeric powder, salt to taste, fry for few more minutes before adding the tamarind water and the Malabar tamarind pieces.
7. Bring the curry to boil, when it starts bubbling (quite fiercely) add the fish chunks (less fiercely).
8. Let the fish curry boil for 2 minutes then reduce the heat and cook the curry on low heat for a further 7 mins.
9. Stir gently from time to time to prevent it sticking to the bottom of the pan - be careful not to break the fish chunks into fragments.
10. Finally garnish the curry with fresh coriander leaves, inhale the fragrant steam and savour this glorious dish whilst piping hot.
This is best enjoyed immediately when the scent of fresh spices hangs in the air, or the following day after the malabar tamarind and other spices have deepened the flavour and complexity of the sauce.
Goes well with fresh boiled, plain rice or idli.
The story behind this recipeA peacock dashed across the open ground, its tail dragging through the dirt. Just the briefest flash of metallic green betrayed it. We were driving across an arid Indian plain. After landing in Chennai we explored the Bay of Bengal, before commencing the drive across Tamil Nadu into Kerala, aiming for the Arabian Sea. We decided to spend the night in the village of Kanadukathan. Little could have prepared us for the experience we had there – for me the highlight of our trip.
Once the confidents to the Cholas, the Chettiars (or Nagarathars as they prefer to be called) established India as a primary player in international trade. A Chola king, in the 13th century, shattered their trust by abducting a young Chettiar girl. This so offended them that they fled inland.
We arrived at Kanadukathan – an amazing contrast to the simple grass huts we had passed. The gracious streets were lined with mansions built of international materials. We chose to stay in one made as a marriage gift for a daughter by her doting father. The house boasted a talented cook – his chicken curry was sublime and I went to thank him. A small, wizened man with bright eyes & strikingly white teeth, he spoke little English, but managed to explain that he had been taught to cook by his aunt. He was clearly delighted at my interest and offered to make a Chettiar speciality – fish curry. The speed with which he cooked was deceptively simple, the complexity of flavours amazed me: all worked to create a sauce that perfectly complemented the succulent fish. The experience, the taste, the setting were magical.
He had worked in the kitchen for nearly 5 decades, remaining when the family fled abroad to escape economic decline. The house was a time capsule – with the wedding gifts still on display. However, the mansion was set in a village like a discarded film set - atmospheric but crumbling buildings. Plaster was peeling off walls, vigorous plants were forcing their way through brickwork, villas had been ransacked for their costly materials & antiques. Grand gardens were now being used to graze goats & rough huts of nomads and poor subsistence farmers had sprung up, using old walls for shelter and support.
What happened? The world changed and the Chettiars realised too late. For nearly 1000 years they went from strength to strength. Their trading contacts were with leaders in the countries where they bought and sold commodities. However, attitudes towards friends of the colonial powers altered. After WWII, when many countries gained independence, the Nagarathars found themselves ostracised and discriminated against by the new regimes. Their possessions requisitioned and trading relations ceased.
I wonder if we are also living in a time of cusp, so used to our ingrained habits and customs that we too are blind to our futures. They say fish is good for the brain…there is no doubt that the Chettiar Fish Curry has made me think.
