The proportions I am about to give you will be found reliable approximately for one pound of meat, or fish, a full-sized chicken, or a pound of vegetables. The vessels I shall use are French earthenware casseroles which I consider by far the best for curry-making. They are admirable for slow cooking, and are very easily cleaned. Curries may be left in them without any risk, and may be served in them without dishing up if a napkin or frilled paper be pinned neatly around them. As curries improve by a day's keeping this is worth noting.

Madras group of Tamil Natives at the pier

I prepare the meat as follows: Uncooked veal, mutton, lamb, pork, or beef, in three-quarter inch squares; chicken as for fricassee, but making three pieces of the breast, cross cut, two of each thigh, and two of each leg, for chickens in India are used when much smaller than English birds. Fish I cut into squares like meat; cucumbers, vegetable marrows, potatoes, and Jerusalem artichokes in neat pieces, cauliflower in sprigs, hard boiled eggs in halves, etc. I then weigh four ounces of onion, Portugal preferred, which I chop up quite small; I put two ounces of fresh butter into my casserole, set it over a moderate gas fire, and when the butter has melted, I put in the minced onion and cover the pan, leaving the onion to fry gently, softening it thoroughly, and gradually browning. There must be no burning, but it must brown.

While this is going on I prepare the "curry stuff," or mixture, as follows: —I put into a soup-plate a tablespoonful and a half of curry powder, a dessertspoonful of curry paste, a saltspoonful of salt, and a tablespoonful of rice flour. These I turn to a paste by moistening them slightly with stock or milk, amalgamating the whole well. Next let us make the nutty infusion. In a small bowl I put one tablespoonful and a half of desiccated cocoanut and one of ground sweet almonds, and pour over them a breakfast-cupful of boiling water. This I cover up to infuse, and leave until the end of the whole process.

By this time the onions have cooked sufficiently, so I add to them the curry mixture, which I carefully fry for ten minutes at least, so as to work away the crudity of the curry powder. This step is absolutely essential, and its omission in English recipes and in ordinary practice is the cause of the' roughness in curries so much complained of by foreign artists. When well fried, I moisten, as in sauce-making, by degrees, with the best broth or stock at hand—fish broth for fish, milk or vegetable broth for vegetables, giblet broth for chicken, and so on. A pint will be found enough for the quantity of meat under treatment.

When all has been stirred in I accelerate the heat somewhat, and then prepare the very necessary flavoring of green ginger, and the subacid. The former is contributed in a rasped or pounded state to the extent of a generously filled teaspoonful; the latter by a teaspoonful of red currant jelly with the juice of half a lemon. If available, a dessertspoonful of good chutney may also go in. I now bring the contents of the pan to the boil, and add, after browning it in a saute pan in an ounce of butter, the uncooked meat, reducing the heat at once to simmering. The process now cannot be too gently conducted—an hour and a half is not too much to allow. So while this is going on I will show you a Malay or Cevlon curry.

Return to top