Food for thought
One of the joys of living in Malibu is simple community; living in harmony with dozens of people you might never know except for a single shared interest and the physical proximity that stimulates exchanging ideas about it.
It would be easy to live here and enjoy an urban lifestyle, driving into a high-rise office building, visiting galleries downtown and never meeting your neighbors. In fact, I did that happily for years, but the firestorm of 1993 catapulted me into the arms of strangers who were my neighbors. Many of those neighbors are now my closest friends. It is with enormous gratitude to their generosity that I share a secret of our camaraderie-we meet monthly to battle wits over the plights of literary heroes. Yes, book clubs help keep us together.
I am such a fan of reading things I would never normally choose that I belong to not one, but two local book clubs-one for sheer intellectual challenge; the other for armchair tourism, and both for dinner. The first, and longest running book club, was formed almost two decades ago with a social contract to read only Great Books, the kind of lofty tomes that have survived the test of timeless taste to have been translated into cliff notes. The club’s founders wisely realized that dusting off the cobwebs of scholarship might be hard labor deserving of an appropriate reward so the club pact was sealed with the agreement that the host-of-the-month would serve a meal inspired by the book. For “Huckleberry Finn” we dined on fried chicken and stewed okra, for “Great Expectations,” stew and trifle. Last month, we enjoyed the 2001 Pulitzer Prize-winning “Empire Falls,” with a small-town diner feast of meat loaf and potatoes.
For most of us, the book club is as much about food and wine as what’s between the spines, so a few months ago, when a group of fire survivors decided to start one, agreement on cuisine became a significant factor of book selection. Unlike the Great Books club, this group reads literature imbued with atmosphere, choosing fiction that expresses a way of life-some place we may have been, but have really never been inside. Reading draws us into the psyche of a person from the place. For example, we read “Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress” to learn about what it was like to be an intellectual in China during Mao, and we plowed through Salman Rushdie’s “Midnight’s Children,” trying to better understand the religious conflict that still continues between Muslims and Hindus in Kashmir.
Through sudden mischance, hostess roulette landed the Indian meal at my house. Never in my life had I experimented with samosas or chapatti, much less a curry. In desperation I called our local expert, Richard Chesterfield, for help-he offered up the following recipe that made him a legend …
KING RICHARD’S
YELLOW CURRY
Many of you know Richard Chesterfield’s culinary talents from the heyday of Splash!, that upscale sand-in-the-shoes spot at Zuma where, even then, foodies drove all the way out to Malibu for Richard’s curry. I’m sure many more have enjoyed Richard’s conviviality and fine food at parties around town where the familiar white truck with the Monrose red flower reassure guests that this will be a really good party. Always generous, Richard was kind enough to share these trade secrets with me when I was desperate for something Indian.
Serves 8
4 chicken breasts, poached
1 small onion, chopped
6 Tbs butter
2 bay leaves
2 Tbs tomato paste
4 oz imported curry powder
3 red apples, cored and sliced 3 ripe bananas, peeled and sliced
1/2 cup raisins
3 pints vegetable stock
Condiments (any or all of the following): roasted peanuts, toasted shredded coconut, Major Grey’s chutney, chopped cilantro, chopped hard boiled eggs, diced sweet onions, diced mangoes, golden raisins.
1. Melt the butter in a heavy stockpot, then saut the onions over medium heat until transparent.
2. Reduce heat to low, and stir in the tomato paste and curry powder for about five minutes-do not let it burn.
3. Add the stock slowly, stirring to avoid lumps for 2 or 3 minutes, then add the rest of the ingredients and bring to a boil.
4. Cover and simmer for an hour, then cook uncovered for 45 minutes. Remove from heat and allow to cool to room temperature.
5. Blend in batches until smooth. Pour over the precooked chicken breasts and reheat slowly. Serve with rice and your choice of condiments.
Note: This sauce can be served over almost anything-shrimp, steamed vegetables or lamb if you prefer.