“Oh, isn’t being wheat intolerant quite fashionable nowadays?” Asked somebody I hadn’t previously thought was so irritating.
“Why yes!” I replied, “What happened was, is that I found out that Lena Dunham was wheat intolerant, and I thought, I’d really like another pseudo-intellectual complaint.”
It’s a hard life this, being the new new voice of my generation. And it’s hard finding out that you’re not supposed to eat things you love like wheat, or dairy, or tuna. Really, sometimes I don’t even know how I make it through the day.
(For reals, tuna! It gives me itchy gums. When I eat it, I spend the rest of the day kissing my teeth like a sulky rudeboy. It’s an incredibly rare affliction. There’s only one question about it on yahoo answers)
It’s also hard when you flat out refuse to accept this and eat them all anyway. Like, in the last 24 hours.
Along with the yelping: ‘CAL-luuuuuuuuum. WHY did you LET ME eat the pizza?? I’m DYING. I am on my LAST LEGS. Can you carry me please?”
It all comes down to indecision. As in, I am undecided whether it will be worth it to eat something deliciously buttery, and then be housebound for 24 hours whilst recovering.
I’m feeling indecisive about a lot of things these days. I usually find that talking about a confusing issue, or writing it down, helps me to sort through them, because you can begin to rationalise.
But it doesn’t always work, sometimes you just end up going round and around in circles. Sometimes you just need to bully yourself out of inaction.
After two weeks of ambivalence towards the idea of leaving work to pile up, leaving relationships, or not, and leaving bed, at all, what I really needed was a good, fiery, smack back to reality.
Like, a szechwan slugging. A piquant pummelling. An actual sinus-searing, dragon-wheezing, cactus-swilling clobbering of a chilli bitch-slap.
And to be fair, making this was the first time I’d roused myself from library or bed since the sun fucked off down south.
(Raise your hand if you have ever been personally victimised by the winter solstice. Yah. Sames)
The thing with chilli, I find, is the difference between spiciness, and heat. I’m a fan of the latter, and find the former a bit more difficult to negotiate.
To my mind, spiciness is an immediate singeing of the tongue that obliterates taste. To achieve this, it’s probably best to use fresh chilli peppers… But I don’t get on with fresh peppers, due to personal ethics, so we’ll leave that there.
What we’re looking for, is a slow, cumulative heat. The kind that, initially, makes your mouth water, and enervates your taste buds, subordinate to – and serving only to accentuate – the other flavours of the dish.
But it’s sly, this heat. It builds a cocoon inside those cheeks of yours and when you least expect it, when you really think you’ve got away with it, just when you’re congratulating yourself on a supercilious chilli tolerance, a peppery papillon of knee-trembling fire is born to wipe every thought from your brain.
You are temporarily blind, no idea who or where you are. Nothing more than a sweating, exulted mess of flaming synapses. You open your mouth as if to speak but the only thing that can emerge is a pleading, pathetic whimper of desire… “More. I need more.”
Somewhere, we’re all fashionable.
Of course, I have no idea how to instruct you properly on cooking spicy food. Everyone’s taste is different. Lets put it this way. Follow my recipe to a T like the charming little minions that you are, and if it’s not spicy enough, then add some tabasco.
If it’s TOO spicy, you have three options:
- Dilute. Add some yoghurt, or just eat small amounts of the lamb with larger amounts of the hummus. Genius, natch.
- Add a pinch of sugar. No idea why this works, but it does.
- Add acid. Pepper is alkaline, so some more lemon juice or vinegar will balance things out.
Happy melting, amigos.
p.s. Sorry Callum
p.p.s. Sorry to the rest of you, I lied. In my last post I said that this one would be about tomato soup. Then I remembered that it’s December, and there aren’t any tomatoes. Soz. I dithered around, wondering if I should just write the recipe using tinned ones, but I couldn’t make up my mind. So I gave up, and ignored the issue. If one of you reminds me I’ll write about it if I’m still alive in three solstices time.
Extra Spicy Lamb with (Optionally) Super Smooth Hummus
Serves 4. Surprisingly filling. You’ll need a pestle and mortar, and a hand blender.
Ingredients for Lamb:
500g Lamb mince. The fattier the better.
2 thumb sized knobs of Ginger
2 cloves of Garlic
1 tsp Honey
5 dried Chilli
1 tsp Cayenne Pepper
1 tsp White Pepper
1 tsp ground Cumin
1 tsp ground Fennel
1 big glug Alcohol. I used about 4 shot glasses worth of some Cognac I had leftover from a home-made moonshine session a few weeks ago (the less said about that, the better), but you could use brandy or chinese rice wine or sherry.
Good handfuls of chopped up Coriander, Parsley and Spring Onions each, for garnish
1 small glug of oil – light olive or veg – for frying
Soy Sauce. Little drops at a time, to your taste.
For Hummus:
3x400g cans of chickpeas OR 400g dried chickpeas
160g Tahini paste
juice of 2 Lemons
1 small clove of Garlic
Extra Virgin Olive Oil, a few tablespoons worth
Salt and Pepper, naturally
Also: scooping foods, eg. pitta bread. Or something else for people who really really don’t eat wheat.
See that red oil? That’s your opponent.
1. If you are using dried chickpeas, they need to be soaked overnight in plenty of cold water, and a spoonful of bicarbonate of soda if you have any to hand (it softens the skins). In the morning, rinse the chickpeas thoroughly in a colander and then place in a saucepan with fresh water. Bring this slowly to the boil, and then simmer until the chickpeas are plump, and soft. You can drain them, let them cool, and then keep them in the fridge for a day until needed.
2. Lamb. Grate one of the knobs of ginger. Mince one garlic clove. Place together in with the honey and alcohol, and a teaspoonful of soy sauce, and pestle/mortar about till its nice and mushed. Add to mince in a large bowl and mix well. I place importance, at this stage, to making sure the mince is really well smushed, to get rid of those wormy shapes that it comes pressed into. Because they are gross, and nobody wants food that resembles maggots. Set aside to marinate for 10 mins while you prepare everything else.
3. Measure out your spices and mix them up in a little bowl or cup, ready to be used later. Grate the remaining ginger, and crush the remaining garlic.
4. Put a small amount of oil in a large frying pan and heat. Not too high, just medium. Tip your lamb mixture in and get to work separating out the mince using the thinnest edged wooden spoon you have (a flat ended one is probably best). Essentially, what you’re doing is chopping up the mince as it cooks, while continually stirring, to ensure it cooks evenly, and not in big lumps. Don’t let the pan get too hot, or it will cook too quickly, and stick together. Don’t be concerned if quite a lot of moisture comes out of the mince – it should have evaporated by the time it’s all browned.
5. Add the rest of the ingredients except for the herbs and onions, increase the heat, and stir fry until most of the liquid in the pan has evaporated, and everything’s nice and aromatic. Taste, and add a little more cayenne pepper if you don’t think it’s spicy enough, and soy sauce for saltiness.
6. Remove the pan from the heat, cover with a lid or large plate or cling film, and ignore it for an hour. This gives all the flavours time to zsusz together.
7. In this time, make your hummus. This is very easy, and there are two methods:
Method one involves draining and rinsing your chickpeas, placing them in a large bowl with all the other ingredients and probably a mugs worth of warm water, and blending until it looks like hummus. Add more water or olive oil if it’s too thick. Simples.
Method two is basically the same thing, but for insane perfectionists such as myself. This method aspires to create the smoothest hummus there ever was, and so devotees of this method may choose to spend a short/long while peeling the chickpeas before commencing with the rest of the recipe. It’s really not hard, you definitely get into the swing of it after a while, by the end I could just pick a chickpea up with two fingers, squeeze it, and it would just pop out of its little jacket very neatly indeed. I had two jolly boys to keep me amused while doing so, and I would recommend some form of entertainment for the rest of you.
I’ve just remembered that I also put a can of butter beans I had languishing at the back of my shelf in the hummus. These didn’t need peeling, and were a delicious addition.
8. Now we reheat the lamb. Pour enough cold water over the mince to cover it, and put it back on a medium-low heat. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the water begins to simmer. Taste and add soy sauce as necessary. If it’s still not spicy enough, some tabasco or sriracha or equivalent can enter into the equation at this juncture. Continue to cook until the mixture has become dry again.
9. Stir through the herbs and spring onions.
10. Place a big dollop of hummus in a bowl or plate, place a smaller dollop of lamb in the middle, and pour over some more olive oil. If you pour the oil directly into the lamb, you’ll see it leaking out from the lamb into the hummus, and its colour will have changed to an inviting, traffic light red.
I made this a week ago and have left my bed every day since then. Don’t underestimate the therapeutic powers of food.
animaroyale 