I’m a cook by the book, that is to say I follow recipes. Not necessarily slavishly. I’m not one of those people who are cowed by recipes. I’ll take a liberty or two with seasonings and proportions, but by and large I do what I’m told. The only exception is eggs. I’ll whip up omelets, frittatas, and scrambles with whatever the fridge offers up -- old cheese, scallions, tomatoes, herbs, dried out peppers, brown-crusted jars of salsa, concrete-hard sopressata, whatever.
But a few days ago I ventured into new territory. I actually tried to invent a new recipe. Well, to be honest I wasn’t quite as adventurous as all that. It was more of a key ingredient substitution, but it was a first step into the unknown and once the idea blossomed, the prospect provided me with days of delightful anticipation.
The story begins with a dinner a friend and I were trying to plan. She’s a cook, I’m a cook, so we decided to cook something together. However, she is a vegetarian and I am a carnivore. We found common ground with an Indian menu which, although it had no meat, was more than acceptable.
This being my first foray into Indian cooking I thought it wise to do a bit of test cooking before the actual dinner party. My assigned dish was cauliflower with scallions and black mustard seeds from Julie Sahni's Classic Indian Cooking.
Assessing my larder, I found that I was only missing the black mustard seeds and the optional garum beans, so I walked the few blocks up Lexington Avenue to Kalustyan’s. Sure enough, there in the spice section was a multi-colored array of mustard seeds. The package of black seeds was quite pricey, especially since I needed such a small amount. But the brown seeds were only about a third the price and the label explained the reason why: brown seeds are smaller and easier to harvest, but offer all the flavor of the blacks. Good old Kalustyan’s. It’s like going to car dealer to buy a Lexus and having the salesman tell you it’s really the same car as a Camry.
Back home I assembled my mis en place, including my Kalustyan haul, turmeric, red pepper flakes, and kosher salt plus, of course, the cauliflower and scallions. The dish was simplicity itself and not only smelled and tasted wonderful, but looked gorgeous with its glistening dispersion of oil-coated bright green scallions among the now saffron-colored florets.
And that’s when I had my epiphany. Shrimp instead of cauliflower. Perhaps I was seduced by how beautiful the dish would look, but I was sure a dash of Indian heat and color would elevate the shrimp to some sublime new level. Unfortunately, it was not to be. Whereas the cauliflower maintained a strong sense of self, the shrimp retired from the field with barely a whimper leaving only a texture to chew on.
Am I disheartened? Not in the least. I’ve been told we learn more from our failures than from our successes. I think I’ll give chicken a try.
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