Food, Music, Food, Music, Food, Music... Ad Infinitum

One of the first major changes I noticed in my life after settling in London was my exposure to different kinds of food. With so many cultures painting the British capital in various colours and giving it diverse flavours, it wasn't hard to imagine that my palate would also widen up with time. And widen up it did.

Hot (as in spicy) food was not my cup of tea at the beginning, however. There probably still exists a photo of me and two other Cubans at an Indian restaurant with my then colleagues from the travel agency for which I used to work where my dark features were given a rouge makeover; a consequence of the herbs and spices combination. No amount of milk and/or Naan bread could put out the fire. That curry was hot, my brethren and sisters.

But over the last few years I've become keener on the 'chillier' side of food. And not a day goes by, provided it's my turn to cook at home, when I don't put a dollop of chilli sauce on some stew or hotpot I'm cooking. It shouldn't, then, come as a surprise, that this section has seen the temperature rise (at least, palatewise) in the last few months.

The following recipe (by Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall) works wonders for a winter's evening meal, or a British summer's afternoon lunch. I tend to serve it with Basmati rice, though, my family prefers to have chapatis.

Chickpea, potato and kale curry

340g dried chickpeas (or 2 400g tins, drained and rinsed)
1 tsp cumin seeds, plus a little ­extra to garnish
1 tsp coriander seeds
½ tsp mustard seeds
1 hot, dried red chilli, crumbled
1 tsp ground turmeric
2.5cm piece fresh ginger, peeled and grated
1 tbsp groundnut or sunflower oil
1 large onion, peeled, halved and finely sliced
2 cloves garlic, peeled and finely chopped
700ml chicken or vegetable stock
250g potatoes, peeled and cut into 3cm dice
150g kale (or cabbage), finely shredded
Yogurt, to serve
2 tbsp coriander leaves, chopped

Soak the chickpeas overnight in plenty of cold water. Next day, drain, rinse and simmer them for about an hour and a half in fresh ­water, until tender, then drain. (If using tinned, just drain and rinse.)

Put a dry frying pan over a medium heat and, when hot, toast the cumin, coriander and mustard seeds and the chilli for a couple of minutes ­until they smell ­really fragrant and the mustard starts to pop. Grind to a powder in a coffee grinder, spice mill or with a pestle and mortar, and mix in the turmeric and ginger.

Heat the oil in a large pan over a medium heat, and fry the onion, stirring regularly, until soft and golden brown. Stir in the garlic and spices, leave to cook for a minute or two, and add the stock. Simmer for five minutes, then add the chickpeas and potatoes. Cook until the spuds are tender, then add the kale. Cook for a few minutes, until the greens are tender, then serve with a dollop of thick yogurt on top, along with a ­sprinkling of toasted cumin seeds and some coriander leaves.

The playlist to go with this dish should have a kick to it, too. That's why I open with a classic Ray Charles's track, 'Drown In My Own Tears'. And lacrimal glands are also part of the curry experience. But a cautious note about the clip below. I'm not entirely satisfied with Ms Jones reworking such a heart-felt song. Don't get me wrong, Norah is pitch-perfect in her version, but in order to sing the blues, you have to feel the blues, you have to let rip, man. And I don't think she does. It's not the first time that I've felt short-changed by Ravi Shankar's daughter. It's almost as if the woman has the capability of taking you places, but she'd rather not take the chance to do it. Anyway, it's just my opinion. Rest assured, though, that my curry does have a lot of bluesy soul in it.



A blast from the past. That's all I can say about the next video. Tracey Thorn's voice is as tender as those chickpeas left in cold water overnight. Sizzling.



Carol Welsman comes back to my blog after I uploaded another clip of her duetting with Herbie Hancock some weeks ago. This time she sings with Djavan, a Brazilian music legend in his own right. This is a fabulous concoction, just like my curry. Enjoy.



© 2010

Next Post: 'Sunday Mornings: Coffee, Reflections and Music', to be published on Sunday 27th June at 10am (GMT)

Food, Music, Food, Music, Food, Music... Ad Infinitum

And the winning dish is...? Sausage hotpot. With vegetarian sausages.

For a few months now the most-requested recipe chez moi has been a hearty, filling, delicious concoction that came in a cookery book for children. It is easy to prepare and the whole family has reached a unanimous decision: Thursday is sausage hotpot day. Saying that, though, my wife and children were not very impressed a couple of weekends ago when I revealed that I used the left-over fat from the Sunday roast to pan-fry the onions, garlic, sausages and the rest of the ingredients. Cue cringeing faces all round the table. Sometimes the Sunday roast left-over fat has been in the fridge for a few weeks. Or months. But, as I explain to them, that's what we do in Cuba, so, get used to it, my lovelies, it's just a lesson on multiculturalism.

Back to this tasty recipe and the music to go with it. Here're the ingredients, preparation and melodies I recommend you listen to, as the warmth of this superb dish serenades your belly with an ardent culinary lullaby.

Sausage Hotpot

Ingredients:

2 eating apples (fruit provides a natural sweetness and an extra vitamin boost)
2 tbsp olive oil
6-8 sausages (we use Linda McCartney ones)
1 onion (chopped)
1 carrot (diced)
2 garlic cloves (finely chopped)
1 tbsp mixed herbs
110g (4oz) lean bacon cut into bite-sized pieces (optional)
400g (14oz) tinned borlotti or pinto beans (drained and rinsed)
400ml chicken or vegetable stock
4 tbsp tinned chopped tomatoes
1 tbsp tomato purée
Salt and pepper

Carefully remove the skin of the apples using a vegetable peeler. Quarter them and remove the cores. Cut the apples into bite-sized pieces. Preheat the oven to 200C (400F/Gas 6). Heat the oil (or Sunda roast left-over fat in my case, oh, yes, I'm sticking to it) in a large saucepan or ovenproof pan and cook the sausages for 5 minutes, or until browned all over. Remove the sausages from the pan and set aside. Put the onion and carrot into the pan and fry over a medium heat for 5 mnutes, stirring frequently. Next, add the garlic, bacon and herbs, stir well, and cook for 6 minutes. (Transfer to a large casserole dish if you aren't using an overproof pan). Add the beans, tomatoes, tomato purée, apples and sausages and stir. Pour in the stock and bring to the boil. Add the beans and stir well. Cover with a lid and place in the preheated oven. Cook for 25 minutes. The sauce should reduce and thicken and the apples will become tender. Take care when removing the casserole dish from the oven as the hotpot will very hot. Season with salt and pepper. I serve this with rice for my daughter and me and jacket potato for my wife and son.

My first track to go with this yummy recipe is one of my favourite songs ever. And no, it was not originally written by Manhattan Transfer, although it was part of their 1987 album 'Brasil'. Djavan is one of those composers whose music is difficult to label, but not hard to like. He's got the lyrics, the rhythm and the voice, oh yes, the voice. Enjoy.



And if we're discussing voices, I dare you, my fellow blogger/reader to listen to the next track and not to be carried away. I challenge you to remain passive and blasé. What's that I see in your hand? A lighter? And why are both your hands in the air now, waving from side to side? I knew you would succumb to this melody in the same way we all do at home to the might of the sausage hotpot every Thursday. Just, please, don't set the house on fire. As for you, sir, step forward, David, or Ziggy, I don't care what you call yourself anymore, to me, tonight, you're Mr Voice.



And to round this post up, I bring you a heavy, funky, sultry dose of acid jazz courtesy of one of the better bands out there, St Germain. You loved them last summer when I uploaded Rose Rouge. This number is more laid-back but it still exudes musicianship and togetherness. Many thanks and as we say in Spanish: Buen provecho.



Copyright 2010

Next Post: 'Sunday Mornings: Coffee, Reflections and Music', to be published on Sunday 7th February at 10am (GMT)

Road Songs (Largo)

Speed. It kills, doesn't it? That's pretty clear to me. So, why is it that when you are driving your car you can accelerate up to 100 - 120 miles per hour, if you so wish, even if the speed limit is 70mph on a motorway? That question has always baffled me, so if any of you has the answer, please, send it to me in a nice envelope with the Royal seal on it.

I sometimes go over the speed limit, but overall tend to drive slowly and defensively. The fact is that I love driving, I love going round bends as slowly as I can and soak up the perfection of a smooth turning.

Same with music. In my teens when I started to listen to rock'n'roll I realised little by little that as the 60s became the 70s and the 70s mutated into the 80s the music had at the same time turned faster. I stopped at Metallica. Slayer and the others who followed were too fast for me and my ears.

There is nothing more enjoyable than a song where the bass guitar kicks in nicely and rhythmically setting the mood for the entire piece, or where the lead singer will ease the whole band into a groove with a wave of his or her hand, in the same way a conductor does it with an orchestra. Music and driving are two pleasures that should be enjoyed without rushing the outcome. Could you imagine someone in a theatre belting out bang in the middle of a stage version of Hamlet: 'C'mon, mate, hurry up, when are you going to say the 'to be or not to be' soliloquy'? Me neither.

The songs that follow are unique in the sense that I am able to appreciate their full richness and beauty by means of the patience and focus shown by their performers. None of which is achieved by running around like a headless chicken.

Copyright 2008