In my search for information about the origins of Chicken Tikka, I had to wade through pages and pages of references to Chicken Tikka Masala
Some say that the Chicken Tikka Masala was named/coopted/has become the national dish of the UK (you won't find it anywhere else)
Some also say, that it was developed by mistake in a restaurant in Glasgow... a (I'm sure hywite) customer ordered Chicken Tikka, then complained that it was too dry.
So the chef poured a a can of Campbell's tomato soup over it, stirred it up & added a dollop of cream
And voila
The Chicken Tikka Masala was born
It sounds gross
Suffice to say ours does not have tomato soup
One origin story of Chicken Tikka goes back 5000 years to when the tandoor oven was invented. Indians had started rearing chickens
But apparently the then emperor of the Mughal dynasty, Babur got sick of choking on chicken bones so he ordered the chef to remove the bones
And so the resulting delicacy was Tikka (which refers to bits or pieces)
This is all from the wonderful piece from the Food Detectives Diary (my fricking broken phone won't let me paste links...I'll tweet it later)
My earliest memory of Chicken Tikka is watching my mum make the marinade
It's not one of those dishes you wake up and decide you want to eat today and you can just make it fwa fwa...the way my mum and her mum made it, you needed to let the flavours soak in at least a day before
First you have to make sure you have enough dahi - the homemade yoghurt - that is a staple of many Indian households
Every evening you take a little of yesterday's dahi, add milk, put it in a bakuli, cover with cloth & let it sit inside the unheated oven for the night
Woe befall you if you were the one who finished the last bit of dahi & didn't leave any to make the next bit
Also how cool that the dahi today could trace it's lineage to years before!
Then to the dahi, mum would add her other ingredients, then she'd massage the chicken with the marinade, wooing the chicken to welcome in the flavours into the meat
It would sit overnight
Then the next day the jiko would be lit
My granny used to baste the chicken with a little ghee as it sizzled on the jiko, the smoke caressing the flesh and the heat from the grill creating the most delicious lines of perfect char
We'd eat it with masala potatoes, homemade tamarind sauce, spicy yoghurt & onion rings
My mum tells me when she first got married, her and my dad's favourite treat meal was Chicken Tikka from Nargis Kapuri Paan House
They had a one bedroom flat with no fridge, no dining table...
But end of month, my dad would make a detour on the way home from work
And then they would sit on the floor, with a cardboard box as their table, and they'd eat this Chicken Tikka, sucking the meat off the bones and licking every bit of flavour off their fingers until it was all gone...in anticipation of the next month
At that point in their lives, without a fridge and without a place for a proper jiko, making it at home felt far away as a possibility
As soon as they could afford to, mum started making the tikka herself, at home, from the recipe she'd been given from her mum
(By the way there's now even a Nargis Kapuri Paan House in London...though the reviews don't look great 😬)
I love thinking about the ways that food travels from one place to another, the ways in which the places influence the way it is made, experienced, enjoyed
There's something so cool about the Chicken Tikka samosa for me....I think it's because I bite into it and this rush of memories come back
Anyways...that's the thread...issa meandering....if you'd like to try our chicken tikka samosa, order soon as we need time to marinate 😍
I'm prepping for my tech rehearsal...so here's a song for you, this one very specifically I was listening to as I wrote the very first draft, and it definitely seeped into the piece
Early this year, a palm tree in the garden exploded in flowers...delicate fragrant creamy petaled flowers
We have been with the tree for over a decade and it had never flowered before.
It was just so beautiful.
The flowers remained for several weeks, and after they fell the the ground, they revealed a twisty knobbly network of branches that stretched up the sky.
It looked like a tree was growing out of the tree.
And at their tips were globules that looked like berries.
After a few months, the branches sort of fell off.
I wanted to write something special to celebrate my 2 year quit, but I still have a long list on my to do's and I'm exhausted after an intense day...so here's a thread from the early quit days
Yesterday's eyebrow raising news about the Kenya Meat Commission (KMC) had me wondering about how we will feel the implications of this in our lives...
& it had me remembering a story about KMC from a lifetime ago
Bungoma, bumper harvests & burning bean cobs
A story thread
Many years ago I lived in Bungoma, working for an NGO.
At one point I was assisting with research looking at kitchen gardens, and how HIV/AIDS in the area was affecting farming...who was doing the farming, what was being grown, what it was being grown for...
It's been over a decade, but this particular story I haven't been able to forget
An elderly woman was telling us about the ways in which they used to farm & cook when she was much younger
Bungoma is lush with a treasure trove of delicious and nutritious indigenous vegetables