palace of winds

Last night dinner was from Suvir Saran’s Indian Home Cooking. I made the stuffed peppers and khitcheree, which is a thick stew of lentils and rice that Saran calls the Indian equivalent to chicken soup.

The peppers were, in a word, amazing. Or pepper, as I had just the one and so altered the recipe accordingly. It’s stuffed with potatoes mashed with various spices, and the result was knee-weakeningly delicious. Because India’s food tradition is rooted in a belief in the medicinal powers of everything we eat and the importance of range and balance of flavor, there’s a focus on multiple flavors that American cuisine often lacks — and, more importantly, inclusion of sour. Important because I love sour.

This particular dish calls for fresh lime (or lemon, but I used lime) juice mashed into the potatoes. My first bite went something like: Ooo, savory, mmsweetOMGsouryay! Normally I’m a cheapskate and buy only green peppers because they’re so much less expensive than red et al, but red were on sale last week and I must admit this dish wouldn’t've been at all the same (or as good, I think) without that sweetness. Anyway, it whipped together pretty quickly, and it’s definitely a show-stopper.

Consisting primarily of yellow lentils, basmati rice, and onions, and me having white bowls, the khitcheree was aggressively unphotogenic. It tastes pretty good, though, and I love thick porridge-consistency stews. There is a spice in it, though, that I will unfortunately have to root out and make sure not to use any more. Several of the dishes Bryce and I made last month had the same note, and I can say now that I’ve given it a fair shake and I just don’t care for it. I suspect it’s the black peppercorn, because I’ve always disliked black pepper, and was giving it a go for the sake of authenticity and because I know there are lots of different sorts of pepper and admittedly I’ve only ever had the bottom-grade pre-ground stuff you find in the cheap pepper shakers at Walmart. There are enough unfamiliar spices in the offending dishes, though, that I think I may break down and do the potato experiment soon. (That is, cooking up small quantities of potatoes with different spices singly or in small groups, to see how you feel about the tastes and how the tastes combine, since potato is a good bland (and inexpensive) backdrop.)

It’s all a shame because it was a big pot of stew and I really don’t want to waste it all for one off note, but I’m not sure how many more days I can get it down before my tastebuds revolt and rise up to seize control of my brain and I wake five minutes later from my pepper-induced mania to discover khitcheree splattered all over the office and myself gnawing on the coat tree for sustenance.