Let’s start off by stating the patently obvious – this dish isn’t likely to have chef Thomas Keller banging on my door, frantically begging me to hand over the recipe any time soon.
It was stupidly early on a Sunday morning.
There was leftover taco meat in the fridge.
I had eggs, spring onions, cherry tomatoes, and an avocado to play with, and a Thermos flask full of freshly pressed coffee.
Valentines Day, eh?
The Bard of Avon once asked if music was the food of love.
No, it isn’t, Bill. Stop being silly.
Food is the food of love. The clue is in the name.
Trying to splice the terms “concrete plans“, “Saturday evening“, and “our local supermarket” into the same sentence is rarely, if ever, a sound idea.
I’d had a vague idea about doing something groovy with a nice lump of lamb, which, of course, more or less guaranteed that by the time I was in the hallowed aisles of that blessed boutique, they would be out of said meat.
We thought we’d seen off the worst of winter, but it looks as though it has other ideas.
It hardly seems fair. Just as we were getting used to longer days, milder temperatures, and the odd spot of sunshine, Winter has to go and sucker-punch us, launching a sneak attack, dumping a thick coating of what my pa-in-law used to refer to as “that hateful white stuff” on our pavements and bike paths.
I needed a curry, badly.
More specifically, I needed chillies, because I’ve found that in this life, one thing counts, bird’s eye chillies, large amounts.
This was one of those times when tail wagged dog.
The plans for that evening’s dinner began with a request not for a specific dish, or main ingredient, but a side order.
“I want something with tomato salsa tonight, please”, proclaimed Mrs. Paleovirtus before disappearing off to work.
Oh. Right you are. I’ll see what I can do.
We were supposed to be having lamb. That was the plan, in any case.
I was perusing the fresh meat section, carefully weighing up the pros and cons of various delicious looking cuts that had up until recently been frolicking around a meadow making obscenely cute “baaaaaa” noises, when Paleovirtus Jr. grabbed me by the sleeve and dragged me towards a corner of a refrigerated unit I had previously been unaware of.
Just recently I cleared out all my old spices – many pre-dated my sejourn in England, meaning they were at least 2 years old.
Then, the other day, I stocked up on some of my absolute favourites – black cumin seed and curry leaves among them. There is something truly wonderful about the aroma given off when these two hit hot oil. I instantly become ravenously hungry!
Once I was back at home with my spicy goodies safely stored away, I began making plans to cook something using them as soon as possible.
My previous post covered Keema Buffad, another variation on the theme of a Keema, an Indian minced meat curry.
Leftover Keema often tastes even better the day after it was cooked.
One of my favourite ways of serving leftover Keema is to use it to stuff vegetables, which are then either grilled ( broiled ) or oven-baked.
Here I use an aubergine ( brinjal in Hindi ) and a bell pepper as the stuffees. The Keema that will be used to stuff the bell pepper will get an additional charge of spinach.