The other day at the local food emporium, I had chance to witness a
terrible crime. There, on the shelf just below eye level, sat a prim
little tin of kosher salt, labeled with an honest-looking brown sticker in a
respectable handwriting font. This little two and some ounce jar cost
four dollars, pushing the price per pound up near thirty. At my
feet: a big cardboard box of kosher salt, three pounds, two bucks.
It’s a rock, after all. But I didn’t come here to talk about that.
Instead: curry powder. I sometimes stop in the seasonings section of the supermarket
and wonder at the little bottles of pricey spices that sit there,
cheerfully labeled. Curry powder seems to be undergoing something of
a market segmentation these days: there are kinds, now. The problem
is that ground spices don’t age well, and those little jars have
usually been kicking around the distribution channels long enough to
be well past prime. A little voice whispers that it would be so easy to
use them, but I say instead: I can do better. You can do better.
Here’s how.
You will need a pot. I’ve got a pretty good pot, but pretty much
anything will do, although the heavier the better. You will need some
kind of grinder; I’ve got a cheap blade-style coffee grinder, and it
works great. You will need whole spices from a reputable source. Put
the pot on heat, toast the whole spices dry (you’ll be able to tell
when they’re ready: they’ll smell fantastic), and then grind them up in
the grinder. Use soon (or immediately). That’s it.
If I’m making a curry, I usually go with a bit of cumin, a bit of
coriander, a bit of chana dal, and some black peppercorns. Sometimes
I toss an untoasted clove or allspice into the grinder, too. When all
of that is ground to powder with a little (kosher) salt, I add a bit
of tumeric and fenugreek (I realize that I should be using whole
fenugreek, but those things are murder to grind).
Using the spices this way perfumes the kitchen, the house, and on
summer days a good part of the block. There is more oomph and depth
in toasted whole spices, and the flavors settle down into a complex warmth.
It only takes a handful of moments, and while the spices toast I can
use the time to lop up an onion and peel the ginger. Best of all: if
you do it right, each time out will be a surprise, and with practice,
they will all be fantastic.
Additional Resources
Along with being an excellent source for spices, herbs, and other
assorted flavorings (and we are blessed to have a storefront here in
Pittsburgh), the good folks at Penzey’s make a set of
pretty good powder mixes for curries.
I was at said local food emporium (the newly renovated one in Shadyside) and witnessed the same dichotomy between the fancy packaged tin of kosher salt and the utilitarian Big Box O’.
Anyway, I’m not sure how I went for so long without seeing this blog. I shall, of course, be adding a link from mine, unless there is some objection.
I have had to educate more than one friend in the fact that there is no curry plant, and therefore no curry spice. I am going to have to try your method though, I have in the past either used curry paste or more often the individual bottles of cumin, corriander, etc. I don’t know what chana dal or fenugreek is though. I will need to find some, and in the backwater hick town I live in now that could be difficult.
Interestingly enough, I have an indian cookbook that asks for curry leaves. I thought to myself “Oh my, I’ve been lying to my friends this whole time! There is a curry plant.” Of course after searching through the book’s ingredients glossary I discovered that another name for the curry leaf is bay leaf.