Butter Chicken of Lies!!

My Totally Unorthodox Butter Chicken Adventure

Let me tell you a story about a culinary expedition that went slightly off the rails, a delicious detour into the world of butter chicken, flavored with a healthy dose of "creative license." It all began with a simple request: to learn the secrets of a truly authentic Indian curry. My friend, a kind soul with years of culinary expertise passed down through generations, was more than happy to share her family recipe. However, what unfolded was less a precise cooking lesson and more an improvisational cooking extravaganza, leading to a final dish that's undeniably delicious but also decidedly my own interpretation.

The recipe, you see, was more of a guideline. We started with a base of aromatic spices, ginger, garlic, and onions—all in generous handfuls, no precise measurements needed. The beauty, or perhaps the chaos, lay in the complete lack of specific quantities. As we tossed in whole cumin seeds, a spice I later learned my friend rarely utilizes, a healthy dose of chili powder and a colorful mix of other exotic spices, the fragrance filling the kitchen, it felt like a culinary adventure. It was less about precision and more about trusting your senses, letting the aromas guide you. The real trick, as I quickly discovered, was not sticking religiously to the recipe but rather finding the right balance of spices—a balance that resonated with my own personal preferences.

Now, let’s talk about cilantro versus parsley. A crucial point in the butter chicken saga! My friend insisted on cilantro. I, however, have a personal aversion—a strong one—to the taste of cilantro, finding it somewhat akin to…well, let’s just say it’s not my favorite. This is where the improvisation kicked in again, leading to a substitution. Parsley instead of cilantro! A bold choice, I admit. But the result? Surprisingly delicious. In my opinion, it blended well with the richness of the other ingredients and the subtle warmth of the spices. The chicken, a simple mixture of breast and thigh meat, cooked perfectly within the simmering spiced sauce. Then, there's the tomato paste base. It's the secret weapon that brings everything together, but even here, the quantities were fluid. The whole process wasn't a rigid formula but a creative exercise, and this flexibility allowed me to experiment and adjust to my own taste preferences.

And finally, the pièce de résistance: the naan. Oh, the glorious, fluffy naan. It’s difficult to describe its warmth and subtle char on the outside, its soft and yielding interior. I swear, this simple flatbread made the entire meal more special. The journey of making this "Butter Chicken of Lies" wasn't just about following a recipe; it was about embracing the unexpected, celebrating the improvisational moments, and ultimately, enjoying a wonderfully delicious meal with my friend.

It is a story of delicious culinary adventure, a tale of friendship, a recipe that is both authentically Indian, and yet undeniably my own. And let’s be honest—the little white lies, or creative liberties, as I prefer to call them, simply added a touch of charm to the entire experience.

So, if you're looking for a perfectly precise, measured-out recipe, this might not be for you. But if you're up for an adventure, ready to trust your instincts, and willing to deviate from the norm, then grab your spices, your chicken, and let’s get cooking. The results might surprise you and you may find a new way to approach your favorite dish!

I urge you to try it, to adapt it, to make it your own. The "Butter Chicken of Lies" isn't just a dish; it's a culinary philosophy, a testament to the joy of experimentation, and a celebration of the unexpected delights of improvisation in the kitchen. It’s more than just a meal; it’s an experience.

Step-by-step

• In a large heavy pot (or wok) sauté a bunch of garlic (probably a whole bulb), 1 big piece of grated ginger, a handful of green onion and one large red onion in some butter.
• Add a couple big spoons of orange juice concentrate.
• When onion is kind of translucent, add some whole cumin (2 tablespoons maybe?). I’d dry roast the cumin first. My friend later claimed that she never uses cumin. I swear we put in cumin when she showed me and I like it. Anyway, that’s where the horrible filthy LIES come into this recipe.
• Throw in some parsley. Ok, fine… she told me cilantro but cilantro tastes like hobos so I use parsley.
• After that, add 1 tsp hot chile powder, 2 or more tbsp of garam masala, oneish tbsp on turmeric, 1 tbsp or so of paprika, 2 or more tbsp of curry powder, salt and pepper. You have to screw around with the spices until it smells right. What’s right? I dunno…
• Of course, the chile should be adjusted to your preference. Don’t bother with the dark red stuff for making chile. Use the red hot stuff from an Asian supermarket.
• Add some water… umm just enough to make it goop.
• This mixture will now be referred to as the "spice pot".
• You should have cubed a bunch of chicken at this point, breast or thighs. Dump the chicken into the spice pot. Stir.
• In a separate pot (on very low heat), add 3-4 of the little cans of regular tomato paste.
• Add some curry juice from the spice pot into the tomato pot. Keep adding juice until the paste is less… uh… pastey.
• After that, pour in cream (or yogurt… or both!) until its at the right consistency. Not too thick, not too thin. Somewhere in between and slightly viscous.
• Once the chicken in the spice pot is cooked add the tomato paste/cream mixture and stir. Screw with the spices until it tastes the way you like.
• Put in a large bowl for serving and throw a little parsley on top.
• Serve with Saffron rice and some yogurt or a mint and cucumber raita.
• Also naan. Mmmmm… naaaaan.