Thai Coconut Milk Curry (stew style)

Several have asked for the basic recipe, so here it is. I don't follow this precisely any more, but if you do you should have good results. The key is the slow adding of coconut milk, and the gradual richening (if that is a word) of the flavors.

Stew Style Thai Curry

(Serves 6)

Ingredients:

• (Optional) Fresh or dried Kaffir lime leaves: 2 or 3 [Finely minced]
  
• Yellow, Matsaman, or Panang curry paste (Mah Ploy brand preferred): 1 TBS.
  
• Nam Blah (Thai fish sauce): 2 to 4 TBS.
  
• Sugar: 1 TBS.
  
• Water: ¼ to ½ cup
  
• Peanut butter: ⅛ to ¼ cup
  
• Coconut cream: 2 cans (Approx. 3 cups)
  
• Chicken or beef: 1 lb. [Cubed]
  
• Potatoes: 2 or 3 medium size [Cubed]
  
• Unsalted roasted peanuts: Garnish to taste

Preparation:

1. (With dried Kaffir lime leaves, reconstitute in warm water until soft, approx. 1 hour).
   Remove stems from Kaffir lime leaves and finely mince.
   
2. Dissolve curry paste in Nam Blah. Add minced lime leaves, sugar, water and peanut butter, and mix until smooth. Add additional water as needed to thin the mixture. Set aside.
   
3. Pre-heat ½ cup of coconut cream in saucepan. Add meat and boil until the meat is cooked through. If the mixture becomes too dry, add water. Set aside.
   
4. In large saucepan of water, boil cubed potatoes until fully cooked, drain water and set aside.
   
5. Heat 2½ cups of coconut cream in a saucepan until it reaches boiling point and set aside.
   
6. Heat a large wok or stockpot, add ½ cup pre-heatened coconut cream. Stir constantly over moderate high heat until it thickens, forms large bubbles, and begins to spatter.
   
7. Add liquid curry paste mixture and heat until mixture is fragrant and thick. Add pre-heatened coconut cream ¼ cup at a time, waiting each time until the mixture thickens and begins to bubble. Take your time on this step.
   
8. When all the coconut cream has been added, add meat and potatoes, combine thoroughly and simmer for 5 minutes.
9. Serve with Thai Jasmine rice, and garnish with peanuts to taste.
   

Updated: 9-23-00

Fortinbras

‘Fortinbras, where are my golf clubs?’

‘Respectfully, Sir, you don't play golf.’

‘That is irreverent…er…irrelevant to the case. The question remains as to the whereabouts of my golf clubs.’

‘The precise location may be somewhat difficult to define, but I would conjecture that they are somewhere in the vicinity of the fourth fairway, approximately between the sand-trap and the water hazard.’

‘Confound it! What are you saying?’

‘The vicar stopped by to see you this morning while you were slee…er…studying in the library. I took the liberty of acceding to his request for donations to the annual parish jumble sale.’

‘You gave away my golf clubs!’

‘As you have so cunningly deduced, I have donated your golf clubs to charity, to benefit the poor in our community.’

‘I don't see what good my set of clubs will do for some starving family. For one thing, the committee would never allow them membership in the golf club.’

‘Yes, Sir, that is true, but sometimes Good follows a more circuitous route.’

**********

‘Goodness me! What on earth was that?’

‘The Hand of Divine Providence, Sir.’

‘The hand of divine providence, my foot! Some blathering idiot has foozled their drive off the fifth tee.’

‘Yes, Sir. That would appear to be the case. Would you like me to ring up MacDonald to repair the damage?’

‘MacDonald?…MacDonald?…Hmm…I don't remember a MacDonald.’

‘No, Sir. He is new in the village. He has been unable to find work, and his wife is expecting their third child. I thought that he might be available.’

‘Yes, yes…I suppose that would be all right. Well, I am going upstairs to write some letters. On no account am I to be disturbed.’

‘Yes, Sir. Very good, Sir.’

**********

‘MacDonald? This is Fortinbras, up at the manor. I have a job for you…Yes, right away. Good day!’

**********

‘Good afternoon Vicar. What can I do for you?’

‘I'm terribly sorry. An unexpected gust of wind appears to have caught my ball and precipitated it through the roof of your greenhouse. I hope that no-one was hurt.’

‘Happily, Sir, we are uninjured. I see that you are golfing again. If I may be so bold as to ask…Where did you eventually locate your golf clubs?’

‘I haven't found them yet. I have searched everywhere, but my wife is a cleverer woman than I. She seems to have this fixation in her head that the inexplicable accidents, which occur from time to time on the golf course, are a result of incompetence on my part. Extraordinary idea, but there you have it.’

‘Yes, Sir. Terribly vexing for you, I'm sure.’

‘Actually, these are the Colonel's clubs, which he so generously donated to the parish jumble sale. I just thought that I would take them through their paces, before offering them for sale on the auction block. I should deeply regret if anyone purchased them, in good faith, and found them lacking somehow in quality.’

‘An admirable idea, and one which reinforces the high regard that the English people have for their clergy.’

‘Yes…well, I thought that I would look in. I hope that it will be all right…about the roof, I mean.’

‘Don't let it cause you any concern. The situation is well in hand. Have a good day Sir, and God bless you.’

Perspective

In the recent snows, which were unusually persistent for our normally moderate climate, I had an interesting reaction, especially compared to those around me. I found myself walking home in the winter wonderland and breaking out into uncontrollable laughter at intervals all the way home. Most of the comments I have heard from others have been more Grinch-like.

Now I am not typically the one expressing delight in the face of gloom. On the continuum from Eeyore to Pollyanna, I lean moderately towards the Eeyore side. I am not a pessimist, but I'm usually aware of the footsteps of impending doom. In any case, as someone eloquently expressed it, a pessimist is what an optimist calls a realist. This made my reaction puzzling until I factored in perspective.

I used to live out in the county with the coyotes and other furry woodland creatures. I lived in a house—I want to make that clear. I didn't want to imply that I was Grizzly Adams, eating squirrels and such-like, although I did have to contend with a woodpecker who kept on trying to eat the house, (immediately outside my bedroom window in the wee hours). With a 45 minute commute (in good weather) and some formidable hills, snow was considered with much trepidation. There were times that I couldn’t make it down off the hill and there was one time that I had to crash at a friend’s house in town when freezing rain made the roads impossibly impassable. I crashed to avoid a crash—cue ironic music.

Not having to drive made all the difference. I currently live within easy walking distance of work, and even though exercise is bad for you I can walk in a pinch. While driving, I can actually negotiate snowy roads with some confidence, as long as I didn’t have to share the road with people who don’t believe in the laws of physics. I remember a particularly harrowing journey from Portland to Seattle when severe winter weather converted the journey into an epic 12 hour trek. There was a stretch of road near Olympia where freezing rain had turned the roadway into a skating rink. As I crept cautiously along at 10 miles an hour, I was constantly passed by brain dead S.U.V. drivers doing 50, apparently blissfully unaware of the vehicles (one every few hundred yards) who had ended in the ditch. At a rough guess, some 90 to 95% of the wrecks were S.U.V.s.

I’m not even that stressed when someone else is doing the driving. When I was young, living in a country where traffic is always an adventure, I always wanted to sit in the front seat of the bus. I never understood why my Mom wanted to sit further back. I think her philosophy was that if we were going to die, she would just as soon not have that much warning. When our driver was racing alongside another bus, on a narrow two-lane road (over hills and around blind corners), sending motorcycles and bicycles into the ditch in desperate fits of self-preservation, all I felt was mild interest and surprise. I’m not saying I would have the same indifference today, older and hopefully wiser, but I would still be less concerned then if I was doing the driving myself. Perspective is everything.

Random thought

I was watching the DVD of Prince Caspian and wondering how my friend (who doesn't deal well with mice) handled Reepicheep, or for that matter Stuart Little, or even Ratty in The Wind in the Willows. Kinda makes you go "hmmm."

… thinking of Nat King Cole

I realized that some of my favorite musicians are singer/piano players; players like Jamie Cullum, Louis Rose and Diana Krall (to name just a few). There are even singers who typically didn't perform in that format, but they were competent players. Carmen McRae was no slouch as a piano player and I love the part of the set when she would sit down at the keyboard and accompany herself.

I suppose part of my interest is that I aspire (in my own way) to be one of those rare entities. The other cool thing is that you can have a musical conversation with yourself. The only closer musical collaboration would be with a sibling. The brother/sister groups out there succeed partly on that level.

It's technically a tricky thing. When I play piano or drums and sing, (or sing and play piano or drums), the multi-tasking gets pretty intense and part of what I do must be semi-automatic. The mechanics have to be really solid or something goes out the door. When I'm doing that in a group, there is another level of awareness that needs to be there so I communicate with the other players as well. At the highest level though, when things are really locking together, I forget about the mechanics of playing and singing and reach deep into the emotion and heart of what I'm doing.

Nat King Cole is really the model. His popularity as a singer has overshadowed the fact that he was a fantastic piano player! I have a very limited sampling of his recordings. I need to make some investments in that area—just doing my part to enhance the economic stimulus.

Currently listening to ...

Ray Sings, Basie Swings
Ray Charles with the Count Basie Orchestra

Oh what a Beautiful morning indeed. Since we moved into the current office (with carpeting underfoot) I have rarely annoyed my neighbors by grooving too hard to the music. A couple of office moves ago with wood floors, I'd frequently get instant messages from Eric, "You're doing it again!" With headphones on, I hadn't been aware of how much I was getting into the music. A great album when everything else is falling about your ears, (and every other time). If you object to joyful, swinging music then by all means avoid this album!

Sheba

I wanted to introduce you to my buddy, Sheba. She is a gentle soul and is a recent addition to the household of some dear friends, who because they live in a city at some distance are not graced with my presence as often as either of us would like. I want to visit them as well! Honest. She's still a puppy—well more like a teenager, full of energy and mis-placed enthusiasm. This is one her quieter moments.

Currently reading…

' "Kindness," said Erica, to her father's head groom, "have you anything laid by?"

Kindness paused in his checking the corn account, shot her a pale glance from a wrinkled old eye, and went on with his adding. "Tuppence!" he said at length, in the tone one uses instead of a spit. This referred to the account, and Erica waited. Kindness hated accounts. "Enough to bury me decent," he said, having reached the top of the column again.

"You don't want to be buried yet a while. Could you lend me ten pounds, do you think?"

The old man paused in licking the stub of his pencil, so that the lead made a purple stain on the exposed tip of his tongue. "So that's the way it is!" he said. "What have you been doing now?"

"I haven't been doing anything. But there are some things I might want to do. And petrol is a dreadful price." The mention of petrol was a bad break.

"Oh, the car is it?" he said jealously. Kindness hated Tinny. "If it's the car you want it for, why don't you ask Hart?"

"Oh, I couldn't." Erica was almost shocked. "Hart is quite new." Hart being a newcomer with only eleven year's service. Kindness looked mollified. "It isn't anything shady," she assured him. "I would have got it from Father at dinner tonight; the money, I mean; but he has gone to Uncle William's for the night. And women are so inquisitive," she added after a pause. This, which could only refer to Nannie, made up the ground she had lost over the petrol. Kindness hated Nannie.

"Ten pounds is a big bit out of my coffin," he said with a sideways jerk of his head.

"You won't need it before Saturday.…"

"And what made you come to Kindness?"

There was complacence in the tone, and anyone but Erica would have said: Because you are my oldest friend, because you have always helped me out of difficulties since I was three years old and first put my legs astride a pony, because you can keep my counsel, and because in spite of your cantankerousness you are an old darling. But Erica said, "I just thought how much handier tea-caddies were than banks."

"What's that!"

"Oh, perhaps I shouldn't have said that. Your wife told me about that, one day when I was having tea with her. It wasn't her fault really. I saw the notes peering through the tea. A bit germy, I thought. For the tea, I mean. But an awfully good idea." As Kindness was still speechless. "Boiling water kills most things, anyhow. Besides," she said, bringing up for support what she should have used for attack, "who else could I go to?" '

Josephine Tey
A Shilling for Candles

The book is another of Tey's non-typical mysteries and Erica is one of my favorite characters in all of literature. She's so richly drawn that I almost feel that I know her from somewhere. Great stuff.