Simkin: Don’t be afraid to experiment with curry

“It needs how many ingredients and wants me to cook it for how long? Ha, that will never… “It needs how many ingredients and wants me to cook it for how long? Ha, that will never happen.”

Such was my initial reaction to the daunting recipes I discovered for traditional Indian curry — a dish I desperately craved during my period of reverse culture shock after returning home from studying abroad in London.

But just when it seemed like I was going to have to settle for a cup of tea and resign myself forever to standard American fare, I was struck by a revelation: I didn’t have to abide by the recipe’s every rule. Choosing to do so meant kissing authenticity goodbye but rebounding with convenience, deliciousness and perhaps even a smug sense of achievement.

I adopted my curry recipe from AllRecipes.com — specifically, the dish entitled “Indian Chicken Curry II.” The beauty of a complex dish like this is that you can adjust it to what’s available and to your dietary preferences. Nix the paprika if it doesn’t appeal to you, substitute tofu for chicken, make a double batch and refrigerate it for consumption later in the week — whatever works.

There’s not much room to play around in the first step: Heat three tablespoons of olive oil and sauté one small chopped onion until it caramelizes. But here’s where the fun part comes in: Add two cloves minced garlic, one teaspoon ground cinnamon, one teaspoon paprika, a half teaspoon of fresh grated ginger root, a half teaspoon of white sugar and a dash of salt.

All those measurements of spices are calibrated to play off each other, so keep in mind that adding or subtracting one might provoke unusual and potentially undesirable results from the others. Then again, such is the joy of experimentation.

Now onto the bay leaf. I can’t fathom the purpose of throwing a leaf into any stewed dish — or, more importantly, why it has to be a bay leaf. I do, however, love the faintly fairy tale-esque notion of putting in a leaf and then fishing it out. Maybe it satiates the oven elves or keeps evil kitchen spirits at … bay. Aha, mystery solved! One midsized bay leaf it is.

What’s still missing from our curry? Hmm, what about actual curry powder? The recipe I worked from originally advised three tablespoons, and although I’ve seen comments from online foodies advising five or even six tablespoons, I used just one and found it more than plenty. I’ve even experimented with a powderless curry recipe for my non-culinary-adventure-inclined (read: lame) mother. So I leave that measurement entirely up to your discretion.

Stir all your ingredients for two minutes before adding bite-sized pieces of two chicken breasts. At this juncture my original recipe calls for one tablespoon of tomato paste, one cup of plain yogurt and three-fourths of a cup of coconut milk, but I’ve found that this creates a bit too much sauce, even for serving over a heaping bed of rice. Instead, I usually cut down a bit on the watery ingredients — say four-fifths a cup of yogurt and five-eighths a cup of coconut milk.

This is the part where you grab a magazine — or better yet, the reading for tomorrow’s class — and chill out in the kitchen for a bit — about 20 to 25 minutes, occasionally stirring. I cannot in good conscious advise you to walk away from a pan on an operating stove, so I’m going to ask that you not so much watch it boil as casually glance at it from time to time — sneakily, so it doesn’t know you’re looking — then turn down the heat to simmer.

Now the recipe calls for half the juice of a lemon and half a teaspoon of cayenne pepper.

I will openly confess to having never added the cayenne pepper. It’s not a seasoning I can love, and I’ve made peace with that.

To be perfectly honest, I’m not sure how much the lemon juice adds either.

This is the part where you fish out the wayward bay leaf — it’s accomplished its task, whatever that was — and allow the ingredients to bask in the leaf-free environment for five minutes.

I like to use the traditional basmati or jasmine, but plain old white rice will do just fine. If you’re a pro at timing, you’ll start the rice while the curry finishes simmering. If you’re like me, you’ll forget and start it afterwards.

For you health nuts out there, the AllRecipes.com version claims to serve four people at 313 calories per serving.

Since most of the tinkering I’ve done involves the subtraction of spices, I’m inclined to guess this recipe will come in at a similar caloric count, not including the rice.

Whether you decide to heed my advice or the website’s, the resulting concoction will be delicious and indisputably result in a meal considerably better than Easy Mac.