For the first time in a while, I am writing first thing (5am), when the house is blissfully peaceful. This is an autumn into winter routine for me. When sunrise is later and later and it is too dark to go out before around 6.30. And today there is no school lunch to prepare and I don’t want to be hunched over my phone and the brain ache of doing Wordle, Connections and the rest just yet. So it is writing - laptop or a handwritten in a notebook, with just a street light to see by - or a good book. Very occasionally there baking too. But the quiet sort. Nothing that involves using a mixer.
Last night’s dinner. I am not sure I should admit this, not least because I own many really good books on South Asian food - but I rarely follow a recipe for a curry, preferring instead to open up my spice drawer and add a pinch of this, a pinch of that, relying on my palate and mood to point me in the right direction. I do use a recipes as rough guides, but will frequently go off piste on elements of the spicing.
I guess I have always assumed that this is how it was always done before cookery books were common. Following someone round the kitchen, memorising what they add when, but ultimately, going your own way because you can’t quite remember it exactly or just because of personal taste. Which is why there are as many variations on every national dish as there are cooks.
I go through phases of gravitating towards the same combinations, regardless of what I am cooking. Yesterday I had a yen for the perfume of both lime leaves and curry leaves. I have used them together before (I do a version of mutton saag, recipe in Leaf, which uses both, it is deeply inauthentic but I love it). There is something about the earthy pungency of the curry leaves married with the sweet, citrusy floral notes of the lime leaves which works for me.
So, curry leaves and lime leaves were taken from the freezer - they are both quite firm in texture so freeze beautifully - and some smoked cod I had bought discounted from the fish counter. I didn’t actually realise it was smoked when I got it out of the freezer, it was undyed. So that was a surprise. If I hadn’t already committed to the curry I might have switched to a herbier tomato sauce and melted cheese on top instead. But it did work just - I think I would use unsmoked out of preference though.
Fish curries do not need much in the way of cooking - in fact, the bulk of the cooking is in the sauce, allowing it to take a few minutes to infuse and meld into something with depth. Then the fish is added and brought just up to low pressure for a minute then cooked off the heat as the pressure drops.
If you are are a one pressure cooker household, I would recommend cooking the potatoes first and keeping warm - or crisping up in a frying pan which is what I have done here - before cooking the fish.
Serve the fish curry and the potatoes together. You can double carb and add rice too. I wilted down a bit of spinach with some zero minute cooked green beans as well. Oh - and any leftover potatoes - absolutely wonderful crushed up a bit and either reheated or refried and put into flatbreads with a ton of coriander, either mango chutney or lime pickle and a dollop of yogurt. You might add cheese too.
For the Fish:
1 tbsp coconut oil
A handful of curry leaves
1 onion, finely sliced
10g ginger, grated
2 garlic cloves, grated
3 black cardamom pods
1/2 tsp cumin seeds
1 tsp turmeric
1/2 tsp chilli powder (strength up to you)
1/2 tsp cinnamon
A small bunch of coriander, leaves and stems separated, finely chopped
A few makrut lime leaves, roughly torn
1 x 400g tin tomatoes or fresh equivalent
Any type of white fish - loin preferably as satisfyingly thick, cut into 4 pieces
zest and juice of 1 lime
green chillies, sliced (optional)
Lime wedges
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