One of things I’ve always loved about being a New Zealander is having to maintain ‘the reputation’. After all, reputation is what sustains us when we’re overseas. So for example you have to ensure that you work your backside off when you’re in Australia, because we are the hard workers, and the Aussies are lazy bastards.
When I first heard that I had to perform when I was out of the country I was a little taken aback, at first mistaking the comment as an insult on my ability to put in the hard yard, but soon woke up to the fact that it’s in every Kiwi’s best interest to maintain the reputation. As it was, Kiwi’s were always employed in places I looked for work, because ‘everybody knows’ we can get the job done.
Like my grandfather said to me one time when I was a lad, do it once and do it right.
The other great thing about being a New Zealander is having to maintain the reputation for hospitality. Sure, there’s a lot of ‘blah’ about this in the media just at the moment on account of people opening doors left, right and centre to accommodate the Lions and get Willy’s attention, but year by year I’m convinced that it is the case.
Don’t you just feel stink if you can’t take something over to someone’s place if they invite you round for dinner? Even if it’s a packet of biscuits hastily bought from a price-gouging corner dairy, you just have to take something. Unless you’re staying with Mum. Likewise, if you have people over to stay you have to put on a decent meal for them, or make sure they’ve got a comfy place to sleep.
And, whether we admit it to ourselves or not, we feel a little pissed off if guests don’t ‘bring something with’.
Hospitality is after all a two-way street. You take something to show you appreciate them putting you up, or just plain putting up with you, and they do what they can to make you feel as at home as possible. It’s just the right way to do things.
You can imagine my consternation then at having a tribe of Americans living with us who haven’t brought so much as fish and chips into the house, despite us consistently making extra room at the table for them. In their defence, they did leave us most of a bottle of vodka, because they tried and didn’t like it. And, they leave tomorrow, so there’s still time for them to surprise me.
Anyhow. I escaped the loudness of my flat to a mate’s place last night, taking a bottle of ‘very very expensive’ wine, on account of a particular tradition taking pace. I thought I might record the event, and translate it to you, the reader.
The Tory’s Curry Night
Pretty much as long as I’ve know this couple Tuesdays is Curry Night. As it turns out, the recipe they use is almost exactly the same as a recipe I first tried when spearfishing up on the East Coast a few years back. I’d brought back a bunch of these cod and they were in a word, ordinary. I disguised the taste with the curry sauce. So, you can use fish if you want, but the Torys usually buy chicken.
To feed two people you’ll need,
Two medium to small pots and matching lids.
A couple of tea-towels.
Wooden Spoon.
About 300-400g of diced chicken, fish, tofu, whatever you want to include.
50g, or, a tablespoon of curry paste.
One tin of coconut cream, whatever type you want, there’s not too much difference except price.
Two tablespoons of olive oil.
One cup of frozen green peas.
Half a cup of rice per person.
First get the rice on. This is a little tricky. Put it in one of the pots, and fill it with water to about 1cm above the level of the rice. Put it on an element and turn up the heat to full. When the rice begins to boil, let it do that for about two minutes.
Now, if you’re time dyslexic or don’t carry a watch, here’s an old trick. Chuck a bit of bread in the microwave, and set it for two minutes. When it goes ‘bong’, you’re done.
Switch off the element under the rice, and cover the pot with its lid. Then cover the lid with the two tea-towels, which should be folded so they sit neatly over the top, but don’t touch any hot bits, like gas flames… If you have to ask why, get someone else to do the cooking.
Then just leave the rice to steam. The idea is that the tea-towels keep the lid down and the steam in. By the time you’ve cooked the curry (about twenty minutes), it’ll be good to go.
This curry is not complicated. The one trick is the curry paste. DO NOT USE CURRY POWDER. Powders are for people called ‘Gladys’ or ‘Flo’. As it is there are a hundred different pastes on the market, red, green, massam, thai, etc. so just try one you like the look of. You can buy it in sachets that are about enough to flavour a meal for two, or you can buy it in jars that have enough for a number of meals. If you buy the latter then just use a little over a tablespoon for two people.
OK, so now to the cooking. Heat the oil in a pot till it’s quite warm, then add the curry paste. While it’s heating through, open your tin of coconut cream, and when the paste is really bubbling, add about half the tin.
Then, reduce the heat to a simmer, and stir the mixture till the oil starts to look like it’s separating out of the coconut cream, maybe three minutes. Add the meat and cook for another five to eight minutes. When you can’t see pink on any bits of the chicken, break a bit with the wooden spoon. If it’s cooked thru, add the peas, and the rest of the coconut cream.
Finally heat the lot till you’re sure the peas are heated through, serve the rice onto plates or bowls, add the curry, pour yourself a wine (if you haven’t already), and you’re good to go!
Oh, and ‘flash’ cooks will substitute the last half the coconut cream for the same amount of stock (make sure you reduce to get good consistency), add a dash of fish sauce to the adding meat stage, and garnish with fresh coriander and fried shallots. Make this one for your next house guests. Enjoy.