For my first foray into Pakistani food, I wanted to do something simple, using some of the main ingredients of choice here: lentils and mutton, both of which are inexpensive on the local market and therefore had quickly found their way into my kitchen. Even the name of the dish I chose, Daal Gosht, is straight-forward because it simply identifies the two main ingredients: daal means lentils, and gosht means meat.
Usually, when I venture to try a new recipe, I like to rely on Food Network recipes, but it was immediately clear that the website does not have a Pakistani chef on staff. The only recipe that came close to Daal Gosht was a lamb stew, but it included no spices from the subcontinent; in fact, its flavoring comes from the highly European rosemary and thyme.
So I hunted down this more authentic recipe, even though it comes from an Indian food website, because it includes spices characteristic to Pakistan as well. (After all, Pakistani land was part of the British India empire for a long time, but I won't scratch at old wounds here; simply put, the country kept the cuisine but found its own religion.) I also incorporated some variations in technique from this Indian chef's recipe for dalcha, a Hyderabadi lamb and lentil stew.
The key to Pakistani cuisine, in my opinion, is the spices. The main recipe called for, from left to right, cumin, turmeric (in the Nescafe jar), coriander, garam masala, and red chili powder (left). I mixed a teaspoon of each into a bowl, creating a mosaic of tastiness, before mixing in the lassi, a yogurt-based drink, substituted for plain yogurt (right). In this way, the spices became part of a marinade for the mutton, as suggested in the chef's recipe, instead of just being added directly to the stew.
The lentils, probably not the Toor variety because of their brown and not yellow color, soaked in some water, while some lamb ribs tenderized in the marinade. At the supermarket, there are four times as many varieties of daal than varieties of rice, all in the same aisle of course, so although each is labeled, it's hard to know which to buy to make a multitude of recipes.
With the lentils and lamb in their baths, I began working with the wok. First, I browned up some coriander seeds, which give a great aroma to the stew (left). Then I sauteed the peppers and caramelized the onions before I added some minced ginger and garlic; I didn't have any paste of the latter two on hand (right). I also didn't have enough fresh tomatoes or any canned tomatoes, so I used one diced tomato and about a cup of tomato sauce.
Usually, when I venture to try a new recipe, I like to rely on Food Network recipes, but it was immediately clear that the website does not have a Pakistani chef on staff. The only recipe that came close to Daal Gosht was a lamb stew, but it included no spices from the subcontinent; in fact, its flavoring comes from the highly European rosemary and thyme.
So I hunted down this more authentic recipe, even though it comes from an Indian food website, because it includes spices characteristic to Pakistan as well. (After all, Pakistani land was part of the British India empire for a long time, but I won't scratch at old wounds here; simply put, the country kept the cuisine but found its own religion.) I also incorporated some variations in technique from this Indian chef's recipe for dalcha, a Hyderabadi lamb and lentil stew.
The key to Pakistani cuisine, in my opinion, is the spices. The main recipe called for, from left to right, cumin, turmeric (in the Nescafe jar), coriander, garam masala, and red chili powder (left). I mixed a teaspoon of each into a bowl, creating a mosaic of tastiness, before mixing in the lassi, a yogurt-based drink, substituted for plain yogurt (right). In this way, the spices became part of a marinade for the mutton, as suggested in the chef's recipe, instead of just being added directly to the stew.
Once the vegetables and tomato sauce boiled slowly for about three minutes, I added in the mutton, marinade and all (top left). Then I strained in the lentils (top right) and used the "lentil stock" to wash the rest of the marinade off its dish and into the stew (bottom).
While the stew simmered for more than hour, TJ tried his hand at making homemade naan, which we used to soak up the stew instead of rice. He used his own recipe, garnered from various ones on the internet, made primarily with flour, salt, and baking powder. He fried them stovetop in a non-stick pan, and before they cooled completely, he sprinkled them with sea salt.
The salt was a good choice because the stew was not seasoned as well as I had hoped. Perhaps it was because I didn't choose the right type of daal, or because I didn't use concentrated ginger and garlic paste, or because I substituted lassi for yogurt, or because I didn't have enough tomatoes. Nonetheless, the stew was a success, as it was definitely edible, with suprisingly tender mutton pieces. But I still have a long way to go before I achieve the genuine spice of a Pakistani meal.
No comments:
Post a Comment