Wednesday, June 27, 2018

Grilled Potato Salad with Blueberries (yeah, you read that right)

Who would've thought to put blueberries in a potato salad? Not this gal. Fortunately, though, the blogosphere is filled with creative, talented people who do think to add blueberries to their potato salads. For this I am grateful.

Let me tell you about this salad.

First, purge all thoughts of the monochromatic, uni-textured potato salad you might find at the store or cheap barbecue joint. You know, the one with the so-uniform-they-had-to-have-been-cut-by-machine potatoes, the sauce (goo?) that mostly just tastes like mayo and/or boring yellow mustard, maybe with a few flecks of pickle relish for a hint of flavor variance. That potato salad has no place here.

Now, think instead of fresh new potatoes (you know, the little pretty ones with red skin) who get to spend just enough quality time with a grill to earn a lovely char and a subtle smoky flavor. Their rendezvous with the grill includes some hangout time with a couple scallions and, yes, blueberries. Now think of introducing these lovelies to a bowl, tossing them with an herby vinaigrette, and sprinkling the whole thing with pickled red onions and fresh mint.

That potato salad has a place here.

Grilled Potato Salad with Blueberries
Adapted from Love and Lemons
Yield: 4-6 servings

2 lbs. new potatoes or fingerling potatoes
Splash of vinegar (maybe 1 Tbsp.?)
Olive oil, for tossing
2 scallions (from the bunch listed below)
1/2 pint fresh blueberries
Pickled red onions (I used this recipe)
Handful of fresh mint leaves (about 1/4 cup), chopped or torn
Salt and pepper, to taste

1 Tbsp. white miso paste
1 Tbsp. white wine vinegar
1/2 Tbsp. Dijon mustard (or brown mustard or whole grain mustard)
3 Tbsp. olive oil
A sprinkle of cayenne (or 1 tsp. sriracha)
Small handful parsley or cilantro (about 1/4 cup)
1 bunch scallions (with two scallions reserved; see above)
Salt, to taste
1 Tbsp. (ish) of water, if needed

Quick pickle the red onion: If you don't already have a jar of picked red onion in your fridge, go ahead and make those. I think they're best if you do them in time for them to hang out overnight, but that's not necessary.

Prep the potatoes: Wash your potatoes. Cut larger ones in half and leave smaller ones whole. Add to a large pot of salted water, add a splash of vinegar,* and bring to a boil over high heat. Boil for just 5-10 minutes, until the potatoes are just starting to be fork tender. They'll finish cooking on the grill. Remove from heat and drain well. Set aside

Grill the things: Preheat grill or grill pan to medium heat. Rinse your scallions and pat dry; toss or rub with olive oil. Toss potatoes in olive oil, salt, and pepper. Use foil to fashion a bowl/plate for your blueberries so you can place them on the grill without them falling through the grates; add blueberries to the foil "dish" and toss them with a bit of oil.

Grill scallions for a couple minutes on each side, until they've softened and have some grill marks. Once they're cool enough to handle, chop two of them to toss into the finished salad, and chop or mince the rest for the vinaigrette.

Add potatoes to the grill, cut side down. Let them cook for about 5 minutes, then turn them and grill for another 5 minutes or so. The goal is for the potatoes to be tender but not falling apart, and to have grill marks. Remove potatoes to your serving bowl. (While the potatoes grill, you can be cutting up your grilled scallions.)

Add the blueberries to the grill during the last 2-3 minutes of the potatoes' grilling time. Cook them just until they deepen in color and warm through.

Prepare the vinaigrette: Add all vinaigrette ingredients--miso paste, white wine vinegar, Dijon mustard, olive oil, cayenne, parsley, scallions, and salt--to mini food processor** and blend until everything is pretty well minced and blended. You're aiming for texture similar to that of pesto. Add a splash of water or a bit more olive oil if needed.

Bring it all together: Toss grilled potatoes with about half the vinaigrette. Add the chopped scallions, blueberries, pickled red onions, and nearly all the fresh mint. Toss gently and just barely--enough for the smaller things to nestle down into the potatoes but not so much that all the little stuff falls to the bottom of the bowl. Drizzle or dollop more vinaigrette all over, and sprinkle the last bit of mint over the top.  Serve warm or at room temp.

The above instructions are written for a scenario in which you do all of the prep and cooking in one session. I actually didn't do that, because I needed to prep the night before. My process went something like this: 1) Chop, boil, and drain the potatoes; refrigerate. 2) Use my grill pan on my stovetop to cook the vinaigrette scallions. 3) Make the vinaigrette; refrigerate. 4) Sleep; go to work the next day; go to friend's house in the evening. 5) Grill the potatoes, blueberries, and two remaining scallions on friend's grill. 6) Chop the mint. 7) Assemble, eat, share with friends, and rejoice. Also, I used pickled onions I already had in my fridge, but I could've prepped those the night before also.

*Boring ol' distilled white vinegar is all you need here. Adding a splash of vinegar to the water helps the potatoes retain their shape. Thanks to Serious Eats for this nugget of wisdom.

**I actually put everything in a mason jar and used my immersion blender (stick blender). A mini food processor probably would've worked better. And of course you could also mince and whisk everything by hand.

Friday, June 8, 2018

Quinoa Salad with Cherries and Goat Cheese

Quinoa Salad with Cherries and Goat Cheese
Adapted from A Couple Cooks
Yield: 3 servings as a main dish, or 4-6 as a side

1 cup dry quinoa
5 oz. dried cherries
6 Tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil
2 Tbsp. maple syrup
2 Tbsp. dijon or whole grain mustard
1 Tbsp. white wine vinegar
2 granny smith apples, chopped into small pieces
1-2 handfuls fresh parsley, finely chopped
4 oz. goat cheese (or feta)
2-3 handfuls of baby arugula (I used a mix of baby spinach and baby arugula)
Kosher salt and fresh cracked pepper, to taste

Cook quinoa according to package directions, but use only 1-1/2 cups of water and add a pinch of salt. When the quinoa is cooked, stir in the cherries and let them hang out for a bit to absorb some moisture from the quinoa.

Make the dressing: Measure olive oil, maple syrup, mustard, and vinegar into a pint-sized or larger mason jar. Give it a good shake. (Pro tip: if you measure the oil first, then use the same measuring spoon for the syrup, the syrup will slide right out.)

Assemble the salad: Transfer quinoa and cherries to a good-sized serving bowl. Add the apples, parsley, and goat cheese and toss well. Add the dressing and several cracks of black pepper; toss. Add arugula and toss some more. Taste, and add more salt or pepper if needed. Serve chilled or at room temperature.

  • The original recipe also called for 1 shallot, thinly sliced and tossed in raw with the apples et al. Though I'm a fan of shallots, I left it out for the sake of my friend who can't eat them, and honestly didn't miss it.
  • While I don't think this salad was lacking, I do think some chopped pecans or almonds would be a lovely addition.

Sunday, April 8, 2018

Nigerian Fried Rice and West African Peanut Chicken

When my brother Josh comes to visit, text conversations like this one ensue.
Me: How would you feel about us making Nigerian food some time this weekend? I'm thinking curry fried rice and peanut chicken kebabs. 
Josh: Big fat yes on that.
And so we did. Since there are two recipes in this post, I'll keep my comments brief with these few observations:
  • I can't recall ever having curried fried rice. Or fried rice without soy sauce. I've been missing out.
  • In this global eating adventure, the dishes I've made from African countries have consistently been among my favorites. See my posts on Madagascar and Tunisia.
  • My house smelled incredible for hours after preparing this meal. We made it for a late lunch, and when we got back from house church at something like 9:00, a pungently spiced aroma greeted us when we came through the front door.
  • Honestly, I can't recall the last time I bought bouillon cubes, since I normally use Penzeys's soup base. But the writer of these recipes urged me to trust Nigeria, so I did. And Nigeria did not let me down.
  • If cooking both dishes as a meal, I recommend this sequence of prepping/cooking: 1) Cook the rice; prep the peanut mixture and rub it on the chicken. 2) Play a game of Pandemic while the rice cools and the chicken gets acquainted with its coating. 3) Prep the fried rice ingredients, fry the rice, and cook the chicken. If you're using a grill, then somewhere in there you'd need to prep your grill. 

Nigerian Curry Fried Rice
Adapted slightly from Global Table Adventure
Yield: 4 servings

1-1/2 cups long-grain white rice (uncooked)
2-3 Tbsp. oil (I used canola, and used more than 3 Tbsp.)
1 medium to large onion (yellow or white), small dice
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 Tbsp. curry powder
2 cubes chicken bouillon, crushed
1 bell pepper (yellow, orange, or red), small dice
8 oz. fresh green beans, small dice
1/2 cup corn kernels (canned, fresh, or frozen)
Salt, to taste

Measure rice into a fine mesh strainer and rinse well under cold water. Then cook according to package directions. Ideally, do this at least an hour ahead of time and, when the rice is finished cooking, remove the lid and fluff with a fork, then let it sit for a while to cool off and dry out a bit. If you made the rice the day before, all the better.

Now prep all your ingredients. We used corn kernels as a basic size guide for everything we chopped. I like to organize ingredients as I prep them. So the onions went on their own plate; the garlic, curry powder, and chicken bouillon went into a little condiment cup together; and the bell pepper, green beans, and corn shared another plate.

Heat 1 Tbsp. or so of oil in a large skillet or wok over medium-high heat.* Add the onion, and saute until softened and translucent. Add the garlic, curry powder, and bouillon and stir for just 30 seconds to a minute, then add the bell pepper, green beans, and corn. Continue cooking and stirring for a few minutes more, until the veggies are starting to soften, adding more oil as needed. Finally, incorporate the cooked rice, and keep on stir-frying until the rice is hot and a little browned, again adding more oil as needed. Taste and add salt if needed. Enjoy!

*We used my 12-inch cast iron skillet, which I anticipated would not be big enough for the whole recipe. So we went with half the onions, half the seasonings, half the veggies, and half the rice, removed that to a serving bowl, then repeated the process with the other half of everything. And we started heating the chicken skillet about the time that the first half of the fried rice was done. 

West African Peanut Kebabs (Suya)
Yield: 4-6 servings

1-1/2 lbs. chicken or beef, sliced into strips*
1 cup roasted peanuts
1 Tbsp. grated fresh ginger
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 chicken bouillon cube, crumbled
2 tsp. paprika
1-1/2 tsp. onion powder
Cayenne pepper, to taste
Salt, to taste

Toast your peanuts in a dry skillet over low heat, just until they start to toast and smell amazing. Remove from heat (and from the hot skillet) and allow them to cool while you prep other ingredients. (You could skip this step. It was my addition because I love the extra flavor hit you get when toasting nuts.)

Blitz the peanuts in a food processor until they're crumbled/finely chopped, but be careful lest you end up with peanut butter. The ol' Magic Bullet did okay with this task, but not great. Combine the peanuts with the ginger, garlic, bouillon, paprika, onion powder, cayenne, and salt.

If you're feeling authentic, thread your strips of meat onto skewers, then press the peanut mixture onto the meat. If you're feeling lazy, dump the meat into a gallon zip bag along with the peanut mixture, and give it a nice massage so the meat is coated nicely. Either way, refrigerate the seasoned meat for at least 30 minutes.

Cook over medium heat--in a skillet or on a grill--until done, being careful not to move them around too much, as the coating will fall off pretty easily.

*We used boneless, skinless chicken thighs; apparently you could also use ram.

Thursday, April 5, 2018

Lemon Lavender Shortbread Cookies

Before we get to these cookies, this seems like as good a time as any to introduce you to Esteban, the newest member of my kitchen tools family. I'd been wanting a Kitchen Aid stand mixer for years, and eventually decided I'd get myself one for my 35th birthday. Well, then I discovered they're not quite as expensive as I'd thought, so I decided to not wait for 35. Then they were on sale, and the sale ended on my birthday, which seemed like a sign from the kitchen gods. And the nice lady at Bed Bath & Beyond let me use a 20% off coupon even though it was already very much on sale. Win! Also, when she asked if I wanted a gift receipt, I said yes, because I felt selfish buying a big-ticket item for myself. Does anyone else do that?

In case you're interested in specs, I got the KitchenAid KSM150 Artisan Series 5-quart tilt-head stand mixer with pouring shield in Empire Red. This article was super helpful in helping me decide which model to get.

Anyway, Esteban has been settling in nicely and churning out scrumptious breads and cookies. He's a stud when it comes to kneading yeast dough. But not too studly to scoff at mixing up shortbread cookies with flowers in them.

Oh hey, what a segue! I made these cookies for house church Easter feast. Since I apparently felt the need to make a million of them, there were leftovers that got to go to the office with me on Monday. Initially I wasn't planning to post this recipe (hence my comment below about not remembering how much lavender to use in the lavender sugar--oops), but the praise from friends and coworkers was effusive enough that it seemed only right to snap a few pics and share the recipe. They may seem kinda froufrou, but the men in my life were enjoying them at least as much as the women.

This may go without saying, but be sure to culinary lavender, which you can often find with other dried herbs in the grocery store. Personally, I like to buy it at Natural Grocers because for just a few bucks you can get a bag that is quite large. Seriously, I shared about half of my lavender with a friend and still had enough to almost fill a pint-sized mason jar. Lots of fresh lavender flowers at nurseries and florists have been treated with pesticides you don't want in your cookies.

Lemon Lavender Shortbread Cookies
Adapted from Port and Fin
Yield: about 30 cookies

2-1/4 cups unsalted butter (that's 4-1/2 sticks), softened
1-1/2 cups sugar
1-1/2 Tbsp. dried lavender buds
Zest from about 3/4 of a lemon
1-1/2 tsp. vanilla
5-1/4 cups all purpose flour
3/8 tsp. salt
Lavender sugar, for dusting (optional)

First, get out your butter so it can soften at room temperature.

Grind or very finely chop your lavender. I used a Magic Bullet; you could use another small electric grinder/chopper, a mortar and pestle, a clean coffee grinder, or a good old fashioned knife and cutting board. In a small bowl, combine the lavender, sugar, and lemon zest. Mix it up well and set aside, ideally for at least 15 minutes so the flavors can infuse.

If you're using lavender sugar, make that now while you have your lavender-grinding implements out. Basically, grind up some lavender and mix it with sugar, like you just did above. I forgot to write down the quantities I used for this, but I think I did about 1-1/2 tsp. lavender buds for about 1/3 cup sugar. That yielded way more lavender sugar than needed for dusting 30 cookies, so I'm looking forward to finding ways to use up the rest of it.

In a good-sized bowl,* cream the butter and sugar-lavender-lemon mixture until well combined. (Use the paddle attachment if using a stand mixer.) Add the vanilla and mix some more, until it's incorporated. In a separate bowl, combine the flour and salt. Gradually add to the butter mixture, and keep on mixing until a dough forms.

Turn dough out onto a clean countertop, divide it roughly in half, and shape into two logs that are about 2 to 2-1/4 inches in diameter. Flatten each side of the logs (to produce squareish cookies). Wrap each log in plastic wrap, and refrigerate for at least an hour to let the dough firm up.

Preheat oven to 350. Remove cookie dough from the fridge and use a sharp knife to slice cookies off the logs. Aim for about 1/3 inch thick. I know we don't normally think in terms of a third of an inch (why is that?), but 1/4 inch felt too thin, but a 1/2 inch would have been too thick. Arrange cookies on baking sheets that aren't greased or lined with parchment paper or anything. Leave a little room for the cookies to spread.

Bake for 10-14 minutes. You want them to still be kinda soft, but a little browned on the bottom.** Gently remove cookies to a wire rack. Sprinkle with lavender sugar (or plain sugar) while they cool.

*My 5-quart bowl was veeerry full. Esteban technically did okay with this quantity of cookie dough, but he struggled a bit and spit out some flour a couple times.
**The best way to check for brownness on the bottom is to lift up a cookie with a spatula, try to finagle the your body and the cookie so you can see the bottom, inevitably drop or break the cookie in the process, and be forced to eat the poor broken cookie. Lest it feel neglected.

Monday, February 19, 2018

Grace, Perfectionism, and Enneagram One-ness

Grace has a way of weaving itself through the fabric of my life. In fact, the earliest threads emerged before I was born, as my parents chose a name for me--one derived from charis, a Greek word often translated as grace. They hoped that I would be someone who lived fully into God's grace and extended that grace to others.

As I've grown older, I've found this theme of grace increasingly meaningful ... and increasingly ironic.

On the meaningful side of things, I recall moments like one during my college years, when a young woman (almost a complete stranger) told me that I had presence of grace about me. That when she saw me, she saw grace.

On the ironic side of things, perfectionism is one of my greatest strengths and greatest weaknesses. With this perfectionism comes often unreasonably high standards that I place on myself and others, and with those high standards come the potential for disappointment, criticism judgment, and resentment. When I'm striving to earn favor through my achievements and perfect results, or when I'm frustrated with someone for letting me down by not being as perfect as I want them to be ... it's hard to find grace. In those moments, grace is not what I instinctively offer or receive.

And as a bonus: on the coincidental side of things, a significant portion of my job is to manage a blog named Charis.

Within the past 18 months or so, I climbed aboard the Enneagram bandwagon, and dissolved into tears about five words in to Suzanne Stabile's description of the One type in her Know Your Number workshop. Digging into the Enneagram has both exposed a whole lot of my ugliness and offered me tools for becoming a healthier version of myself, with all my strengths and faults. Several weeks ago, a friend introduced me to a series of songs inspired by each Enneagram type, in which the artist seeks to celebrate the beauty of each type, offering a word of redemption. The whole song about Ones resonates with me, but especially the sentiment in these lines:
But the list goes on forever,
of all the ways I could be better, in my mind.
As if I could earn God's favor given time,
or at least "congratulations"... 
Now, I have learned my lesson;
the price of this so-called perfection is everything.
I've spent my whole life searching desperately
to find that grace requires nothing of me.
--One, by Sleeping At Last, from Atlas: Year Two 
My natural inclination is to run myself ragged in an attempt to earn favor--or, at the very least, a pat on the back--from God, from others, from myself. Which leads to super fun things like burnout (yep, dealt with that twice in my adult life, and I'm not that old), pure exhaustion at the end of a workday, smoldering resentment toward those who don't measure up to my unrealistic standards, and the inability to resist pointing out typos on restaurant menus.

And yet. Grace is just sitting there, a gift waiting to be accepted. Receiving it "requires nothing of me."

The day after I first heard the song "One," a coworker complimented me on something. It was almost as a throwaway comment, but I responded with far more gratitude and "are you serious?" than the simple comment warranted, probably because I was feeling all tender and reflective about my One-ness and, therefore, extra critical of myself. (It's extra fun when you catch yourself criticizing yourself for being critical.) In that moment of vulnerability as I reacted to--even pushed back against--my coworker's kind word, two other teammates who were there chimed in with their own affirmations. In this area, these friends viewed me far more graciously than I viewed myself! In that moment, grace was freely offered. All I had to do was accept it.

I suspect I'll spend the rest of my life wrestling with my perfectionist, living into my charis-inspired name, and practicing the art of giving and receiving grace. (Side note: in the back of my mind, I'm juxtaposing everything I've just written with Bonhoeffer's concept of costly grace. My perfectionist won't let me end this blog post without acknowledging Bonhoeffer, but I'll leave that exploration to someone with more wisdom and theological training than I have.)

In the meantime, it's comforting to hear a song asserting that "grace requires nothing of me" and to have work friends who embody this truth by extending grace when I lack the ability to offer grace to myself.

Monday, January 29, 2018

Winter Fruit Chutney Bites

For a recent slumber party with my foodie club, I was looking for a snack that was wintery, tasty (obviously), could be prepared ahead of time, and could play nicely with a cheese board. Enter fruit chutney. This appetizer met all those criteria. I made the chutney two days before the party, used storebought baguette crisps, did the onions the day of, then transported everything to my friend's house in jars, set the various elements on a tray, and invited my friends to assemble their own bites.

Most of the chutney recipes I looked at included onion in the chutney, but I decided to keep it separate, which frees me up to use the leftover chutney in a variety of ways. I imagine it'd be great served with ham or pork, dolloped atop french toast, stirred into pancake batter, mixed with butter and spread on toast, maybe even added to a citrusy smoothie or mixed into a drink.

Feel free to mix and match ingredients. Add some fresh orange juice or orange zest, use nutmeg or cloves instead of or in addition to the spices here, use thyme instead of rosemary, add a few cracks of black pepper to contrast the sweetness of the fruit, use different kinds of cheese ... basically, be creative and have fun with it!

Winter Fruit Chutney Bites
Yield: About 2 cups chutney and 3/4 to 1 cup caramelized onion
Adapted from Reluctant Entertainer; caramelized onion method from The Kitchn

1 Tbsp. butter
1 medium-large red onion, vertically sliced
Splash of wine, water, or balsamic vinegar (I used cheap chardonnay)

6 oz. fresh cranberries
1/2 cup brown sugar
1/3 to 1/2 cup water
1/2 tsp. kosher salt
1/8 tsp. ground cinnamon
3 allspice berries, ground
1 cup peeled and chopped pear
1/2 cup peeled and chopped Granny Smith apple
1/8 cup crystallized ginger, diced
Juice from 1/2 of one lemon
1/2 tsp. apple cider vinegar

Blue cheese crumbles
Bread slices, crackers, or toasted baguette slices
Fresh rosemary, minced

To caramelize the onions: In a medium to large skillet, melt butter over medium heat. Add the onions and stir well to get them nicely coated. Saute them for a couple of minutes, then reduce heat to low or medium-low, and let them hang out for a good 30 minutes or more, stirring every so often, until they're super soft and caramelized. Do keep an eye on them, because you don't want them to burn, but you do want them to caramelize. When they're looking good, increase the heat, add a splash of wine, water, or balsamic vinegar to deglaze the pan, and let it cook until the liquid has mostly evaporated. Remove from heat.

To make the chutney: Pour cranberries into a colander, rinse and drain, and pick out any that look suspicious. If your cranberries are frozen, no need to thaw them. In a large saucepan (tall sides are your friend; this will splatter), combine brown sugar, water, salt, cinnamon, allspice, and cranberries. Bring to a boil, ensuring the sugar dissolves. Then reduce heat and simmer for about 10 minutes, stirring occasionally. Many of the berries will burst while simmering, so use a splatter screen if if you have one; otherwise, loosely cover the pot with a lid that's tilted to let steam out.

Add the pear, apple, and crystallized ginger, and continue simmering for about 20 minutes, stirring occasionally. Remove from heat and add the lemon juice and cider vinegar. Taste, and if it's too puckery sweet, add just a bit more cider vinegar.

To serve: Spread some of the cranberry mixture on a your bread or carb of choice, top with some caramelized onion, sprinkle with blue cheese, and finish with a sprinkle of fresh rosemary.

You can assemble a whole bunch of these and arrange them on a tray, or you can set out the elements and let guests assemble their own. Personally, I like the latter approach because it leaves me available to interact with people instead of fussing over food, and leftovers are easier to pack up and reuse (i.e., no soggy pre-assembled bites that sit out for two hours and get gross).

Tuesday, January 2, 2018

Bangladeshi Chicken and Potato Curry

Whelp, my year started with a Bangladeshi meal, so I'd say I'm a fan of 2018 thus far. This meal comes from the Hot Bread Kitchen Cookbook: Artisinal Baking from Around the World, one of the newest arrivals to my cookbook library. It was through this episode of the A Couple Cooks podcast that I first learned of Hot Bread Kitchen, a bakery and training program in NYC that employs and trains immigrant and minority women to succeed in the professional food business. Through the program, these women gain marketable, employable skills and experience, in addition to training in English, kitchen math, and science. Everything on their menu comes from the home countries of the employees and graduates of Hot Bread Kitchen.

This cookbook features many of the breads of Hot Bread Kitchen, as well as things to eat or drink with said breads. Most recipes include a story behind the dish or the culture from which it comes, and sprinkled throughout the cookbook are spotlights of several Hot Bread Kitchen women. And these recipes come from all over the world, so in the span of a few pages you go from Ethiopia to Iran to India to Italy--and that's just in the leavened flatbreads chapter!

Hailing from the kitchen of a woman named Lutfunnessa, who taught political science in Bangladesh before moving to New York in the 90s, this curry recipe lands in the first chapter of the book, so it caught my attention early. Even after reading most of the rest of the book, when I thought about what I wanted to make first from the HBK Cookbook, my mind kept drifting back to the Bangladeshi curry and Bangladeshi flatbread (whole wheat chapatis). Besides, the paragraph at the top of the recipe says it's "perfect on a cold night"--and since it seems the entire U.S. is frozen right now, this curry was the perfect way to ring in the new year.

I served mine with the aforementioned whole wheat chapatis, which are also included in the cookbook, but you can definitely serve it with rice instead. The recipe is written with beef instead of chicken but, with the blessing of the paragraph at the top of the recipe, I used chicken thighs instead. This is a fairly simple dish to make, but it does require some time to simmer.

Bangladeshi Chicken and Potato Curry
Adapted slightly from Hot Bread Kitchen Cookbook (p. 38)
Yield: 3 servings

3 Tbsp. canola oil
1 to 1-1/2 lbs. boneless, skinless chicken thighs, cubed
Kosher salt and black pepper, to taste
1 small yellow onion (or half of 1 large), diced
2 cloves garlic, minced
1-inch piece of fresh ginger, peeled and minced
1/8 tsp. cayenne (1/4 tsp. for more heat)
1 tsp. ground cumin
1 tsp. ground turmeric
1/4 tsp. ground cinnamon
1/4 tsp. ground cardamom
1-1/2 cups water
2 large russet potatoes, peeled and cubed (approx 1-inch cubes)
Handful of cilantro, chopped
Cooked basmati rice or whole wheat chapatis (flatbread), for serving

In a medium to large pot, heat oil over medium-high heat. Season the chicken with salt and pepper, then add to the pot. Cook until the chicken is browned, stirring occasionally. Remove chicken to a plate.

Turn your burner down to medium and add the onion, garlic, ginger, and cayenne to the pot. If needed, add a splash of water to loosen any browned bits left behind by the chicken--there's great flavor there! Cook for another 10 minutes or so, until the onions are softened and starting to brown, stirring occasionally. Stir in a bit more salt while the onions cook. Add the remaining spices--cumin, turmeric, cinnamon, and cardamom--and stir for just a minute, to release the spices' fragrance.

Pour the water into the pot and add the chicken back in. Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat, cover, and simmer for about an hour. Check it every so often to give it a stir and add more water if it's getting dry (I checked every 20 minutes and never needed more water).

Now add the potatoes to the pot and keep on simmering (covered) for 20-30 minutes, until the potatoes are nice and tender. Mine were very soft after 30 minutes. Again, stir every so often, and add water if needed. Taste and add salt and pepper if needed. Sprinkle with cilantro, and serve with rice or chapatis.