Creamy Coconut Curry

There are two sorts of people in the world, those who follow recipes and those who don't.
The nonconformists make all sorts of excuses such as not having the right ingredients, but the real truth is that they just don't like to do as they're told.
I am afraid that I belong firmly in this second group.

When I look through a cookbook, I see reams of endless possibilities. Each meal could be altered or combined in a thousand different ways. The one thing that is entirely impossible is to actually follow the recipe.
I could try, but I would decide halfway to add some extra veg to stretch the meal. Or I would taste it at the end, and add pepper and lemon juice to finish it off.

One of the reasons I don't follow recipes is that I know what I want to cook. However, chefs are not mindreaders, and they mostly don't write recipes for what I want to cook. It's like you want to travel across town, but you don't have a map. You have to strike out on your own.

Anyway, the point of all of that is that I want to share a recipe with you that I invented last time I went exploring the Culinary Jungles.

The situation was grim. I faced an almost impossible task: To make curry without curry powder. I would not give in. Neither would I walk to pakn'save and purchase curry powder.
After forty five minutes of intensive creativity, I served a curry so beautiful, so creamy, so mildly delicious, that mum actually asked if I'd used a can of commercial butter chicken.
This is that curry.


Meat (I used leftover sausages)
Veggies e.g. Mushroom, bell pepper, eggplant, sliced carrot
One very large onion
Three large cloves of garlic.
One tsp Turmeric
1/2 tsp Cloves
Two tsp Garam Masala.

Fry together until cooked, onion and spices first.

Meanwhile combine one can each of tomato and coconut cream with one cube beefstock and a little salt in a saucepan. Heat through, crushing tomatoes.

Pour the sauce over the meat and veg, and cook for another five minutes before you serve and enjoy.

I have deliberately left the recipe vague, so you too can get those creative juices flowing!

The Teacher Comes to Tea

When I heard that Jesus was coming, I got up early, and cleaned the houses like my grandmother does every pesach, thoroughly and neatly. Mary got up too, and tried to help, but she was so exited she only made more mess and chaos. I got so flustered Lazarus had to send her out to buy food and collect the day’s water. I finally finished at about lunchtime. Soon Mary came trotting in, leading a lamb. A LAMB.

“Don’t you think teacher would love roast lamb?”

“It’s very fancy…”

“And the shop man is bringing wine and spices to marinade it in and….”

I see the work piling up and up.

“Mary, did you remember the pita”

“I got something even better…” Uh-oh “Challah dough we can bake ourselves”.

And up and up.

We had just got the lamb on the spit, when we heard shouts down the road. Of Course Laz and Mary run off like a pair of babies to meet Jesus. Leaving me with all the work- Challah to bake, lamb to roast, pomegranates to split, gravy to make. And a dreadful mess from butchering the lamb.

When the teacher came in, my hands were bloody, my hair was a mess and I was stressing out. But He kindly complemented; “Martha, Mary, What a wonderful smell! You must have been cooking up a storm”

When he finished I walked into the kitchen “Mary, would you deal with the challah” I said, smelling the fragrant fresh bread. Then I realized I was talking into thin air. I would be lenient and not embarrass my sister before the teacher. I walked to the door. My finger lifted itself up and beckoned. Mary just shook her head.

She asked for it. “Lord, don’t you care! Mary’s left me with all the work.”

Mary’s face fell as she started to rise.

He actually defended her! “Martha, Martha, you’re trying to hard. You only need to do one thing, and Mary is doing it. I won’t take it away from her.” I looked down, expecting a smug sneer of triumph written all over her face. But it wasn’t. Mary was gazing earnestly, adoringly into the face of her master as he continued teaching.

After dinner Mary joined me in the kitchen. “sorry”

“Me too” I mumbled back.

“If you want I’ll do the pots and pans and you go listen to him”

She couldn’t do much damage doing dishes, so I accepted her offer and went to listen.

Now everyone is in bed, and I am washing up. When Mary followed me in 5 minutes time, she thought she was clearing the table, but I knew better. And I didn’t even mention it when she sat down to listen .

I didn’t get up either…