Passport & Plate - Smoked Haddock Coconut Kedgree
British Indian Ocean Territory | Friday, March 6, 2015 | 1 photos
 |
| | | |
For poaching the smoked haddock:
1 tbsp butter
1/2 tsp ground tumeric
1/4 tsp ground kashmiri chili powder
1/2 tsp ground cumin
3 fillets of undyed smoked haddock
1/2 can of 400mL coconut milk
For cooking rice:
3 tbsp salted butter (or clarified butter for a more interesting, authentic flavour)
1 tsp olive oil
1 onion diced (or 3-4 shallots for more sweetness)
1 tsp chili flakes
3 cloves garlic finely diced or ground
1 tsp ground ginger
1 fistful of curry leaves (~10-15 leaves)
3 cardamom pods (lightly mash so that they pop open)
1 stick of cinnamon roughly broken into pieces
½ tsp ground turmeric
¼ tsp ground coriander
¼ tsp ground cumin
2.5 cups of long grain basmati rice
1.5-2 cups chicken or fish stock (or water for a lighter flavour)
Half a lemon
Optional: Wash and soak the rice in water and a dash of salt for an hour (I used red wine salt) or two before you start cooking. Will soften the rice significantly and allow it to absorb more flavour
For haddock:
1. Combine the tumeric, chili powder and cumin and rub all over the smoked haddock
2. Melt the butter in a medium sized shallow pan
3. Stir in the coconut milk gently and bring to a boil, then reduce to a simmer and slide the smoked haddock in. The coconut milk should just cover the haddock in a creamy blanket. If not, top up with more coconut milk
4. Let simmer for ~5-6 minutes then lower heat to low (or turn off) and let stand covered for ~10 minutes until the haddock is poached through
5. Lift haddock with a slotted spoon, remove skin and flake into large chunks with fork. DO NOT discard the lovely coconut milk mixture. Will need it for later.
For rice:
1. In a large lidded pan, melt the butter then add the olive oil so that the butter doesn’t burn
2. Add onions, chili flakes, garlic, ginger, curry leaves, cardamom and cinnamon and sauté lightly on medium heat
3. Add all the ground spices and continue sautéing until onions have softened and imbibed the smell of spices
4. If rice was previously soaked, remove all water and tip rice into the mixture, stir well until it is coated in the spiced butter, golden onion goodness
5. Pour in the coconut milk mixture remaining from after fish was poached and top up with stock until the rice is covered (may require 1.5 cups of stock depending on how much of coconut milk mixture was left after poaching)
6. Close lid tightly, reduce heat to medium-low and cook for 10-12 minutes
7. Uncover lid, check that rice is cooked through. Remove cinnamon sticks and cardamom
8. Gently stir in flaked haddock. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Squeeze lemon juice over before serving
I recently moved to Edmonton, Alberta, also unaffectionately known as Deadmonton. It’s a sprawling, concrete landlocked city starkly juxtaposed to the vibrant, ocean side, architectural eye candy cities I have previously lived in. I had left my village of friends behind for a dream job and was missing the warmth of coming home to someone I love. Months in, I reconnected with a cousin I had lost touch with decades ago. As we cooked our way through weekday dinners, we taste- tested and chatted. It turned out, we really were two peas in a pod. We had a similar off-beat morbid sense of humor, adored single malts, mischievous dogs, colonial history and food. Food was our language. It was the way we waded through years of family history, our mutual loneliness in this city, isolation, love won and lost. And as recent grad students, finding inventive ways to make a dollar stretch while splurging on ingredients we couldn’t afford was our specialty.
Hanging out one morning, my cousin suggested making Kedgeree, an Anglo-Indian savoury breakfast I had only ever read about. “Let’s reclaim our heritage” she proclaimed at 7am. She had our grandmother’s handwritten recipes in an old, lined school book which we had been working our way through. The Kedgeree we created was with smoked haddock slowly simmered in creamy coconut milk, cumin, coriander and chili powder. The long-grain basmati rice was soaked in water and red wine salt before being cooked in clarified butter, turmeric, garlic, shallots and fistfuls of curry leaves. Making Kedgeree that morning, in a city with no body of water or friends for miles, I forgot how acutely lonely I had been feeling. The house smelt of Saturday afternoons back at my grandmother’s, starchy sweet and comforting as we reclaimed our kinship and heritage through that soft, sultry rice for breakfast.
