That kind of woman: Tandoori chicken
The other day my sister Ginny and I were belly down in soft, muddy ground wrestling an unwilling rhododendron into a new spot. Typical of a late-winter Puget Sound day, rain was raining down—not the aggressive, hell-or-high-water LA drenching or a good-ole' Midwestern downpour; but the persistent day-after-day drizzle disguised as a gentle mist but is in fact, a mean-spirited rain that trickles down your neck, into your boots, and up your nose. I blew the water out of my eyes and said to Ginny, "How did we become this kind of woman?"
Our shared mother puttered in the garden, neatly dressed; she never grunted and struggled, wet and dirty, to a degree that required being hosed off. Ginny uncovers, recovers, and restores old furniture for a living. She can tell tales of dried vomit, mice droppings, pet hair, fingernail clippings, and dried up diapers found under the cushions of some swell old sofa. She wrestles a ten-foot breakfast nook bench onto it's back, pries off rusted staples, and peels back cracked vinyl to reveal rat nests cleverly nestled in frame corners. She can aim a pneumatic nail gun with the precision of a sniper, stretching sleek, new material over fluffy down, while simultaneously rat-a-tat-tatting a mouthful of nails to hold it all in place.
My other sister Nikki uncovered, dug out, and moved two-man rocks with a tire iron and a board while creating the "Japanese wing" of her ever-expanding garden. She carried, by hand, twenty-three bucketfuls of beach stone to the "meditation" pond. During one of Vashon's frequent winter power outages (they say it only takes a horse's fart to loose power on the island), she crawled under her house, head bonging on the floor joists, to hook up the generator so her cats could stay warm.
Where did this willingness to get physical and dirty and come from? Wherever it originated, it stood me in good stead during my restaurant career. My days as a "chef" were filled with clogged pot sinks, piles of raw meat, cavernous walk-ins, 75 pound grill grates, 8-gallon simmering stock pots, and ten hour stretches of constant work with not even a chance to go to the bathroom. This same willingness supported me while I cleaned out the dumpster in the alley behind the Border Grill on a hot LA afternoon or worked two shifts in front of a wood-burning grill, a Tandoori oven, a hot top, eight full-blast burners, and a salamander. Runners picking up food would peer under the pass through and ask, "How can you guys stand it back there?" We're that kind of woman.
If you are a good cook and frequently prepare food for friends and family, eventually someone will say, "You should open a restaurant." Being a good cook is far down the list of what it takes to own a restaurant. Ask yourself: Can you work long and hard with little or no compensation? Do you want a relationship with a significant other? Can you stay calm in the midst of simultaneous disasters? Can you do at least five things at once? When you do get home reeking of food, will you be allowed in?
If you like to stay clean, if you have a manicure on a regular basis, if you wear make-up or perfume, if you can't keep working when your bloody finger is wrapped with a kitchen towel, if you won't volunteer to do a double shift when the sauté man breaks his leg, if language that would scorch a Marine's ears or salsa music turned up to # pain bothers you, or if your fingertips aren't like asbestos pads, a restaurant kitchen is probably not the place for you.
Anyways, speaking of Tandoori ovens, here a good one from the old City Restaurant.
City Restaurant Tandoori chicken
1 4-5 pound cut up roaster or individual chicken breasts and legs
Yogurt marinade:
Spice mix: Roast 1/4 c. cumin seeds, 1/4 c. whole cardamom seeds, and 1/4 c. coriander seeds in sauté pan over medium heat, shaking pan constantly to avoid burning. When you can see wisps of smoke coming off the spices, remove from heat, let cool and whiz in spice blender. I have at least two coffee grinders with missing parts that work perfectly as spice grinders.
Add to blender:
- 3 T. garlic
- 3 T. fresh ginger
- 1 t. chili powder
- 2 tablespoons ground roasted spice mix (cumin/cardamom/coriander mix)
- 1/2 tsp. turmeric
- 1/2 tsp. salt
- 1/4 tsp. cayenne
- 1 c. yogurt
Blend until smooth.
Tandoori chicken:
Coat chicken pieces well with marinade and refrigerate overnight. Remove chicken from refrigerator 2-3 hours before cooking.
Heat oven to 450 degrees.
Remove chicken from marinade and shake off any excess marinade. Discard leftover marinade.
Place chicken pieces on rack placed in a sheet pan or tray. Cook chicken for ten minutes, turn pieces over and cook for 10 minutes more.
Squeeze fresh lemon juice on chicken pieces and serve with basmatti rice.
You can also grill the chicken—10 or so minutes per side.
Posted by Marla Nichols at 3/17/2011 12:06 PM 
Categories: India, Entrees, Border Grill, City Restaurant, Asian, Chicken
Tags: Border Grill restaurant kitchens Puget Sound weather tandoori chicken Indian food Indian spice mix
Categories: India, Entrees, Border Grill, City Restaurant, Asian, Chicken
Tags: Border Grill restaurant kitchens Puget Sound weather tandoori chicken Indian food Indian spice mix
Three cheers!!! We have girls like that here!
Reply to this
Loved the song--especially the guys reaction. Well, gotta go repair the merry go round!
Reply to this