Hello, boys and girls!
Welcome to cooking with Varun. In 2014, when I lived in Solihull, UK, some of the people from my workplace were having Friday drinks at The Slug & Lettuce, a pub down the road from the office. Since they were all client guys (and girls) who worked on a different floor, I didn't know them very well, so my TWM and I decided to only put in an appearance, and then head home where I was planning on cooking a chicken biryani using a method that my friend Thinks-that-she-can-sing-but-can't had taught me. We arrived at the pub and ordered a beer and a Gin & T at the bar and had a browse around to see if we could spot anyone we knew. TWM, being a client guy himself, recognized a bunch of people and we walked over so he could introduce me, his little brown friend, to the others. Introductions made, glasses were clinked, and we joined the conversation. Not long after, more and more people started trickling in, some of whom I knew by sight, and soon our little group had expanded to several times it's size. At some point around this time, my 2 beer rule went out the window along with any plan of nipping out early to go home and cook. Now, people who know me, know that I already am quite sociable, and the additional boost of liquid confidence only made me loosen up more and as TWM handed me drink after drink, I became more and more animated. As a drunken TWM bought bottles of champagne, I forged friendships with TWW, The-only-girl-I-know-who-can-pull-off-a-fringe, and Has-adorable-daughter, among others. An hour later I had lost my credit card, found it again, downed a bunch of shots, was buying random (pretty) girls drinks, and hugging the very sweet Smiling-girl-with-pretty-hair from the office as I nicked her Jack & Coke. As the clock wound down, people started to leave (including TWM) and soon there were only a handful of us left.
Perhaps it was the alcohol, actually I'm sure it was the alcohol, but someone suggested we pop over to an 'exotic' club in the vicinity (it wasn't me, I didn't even know that it existed!). We stumbled out of the pub, tittered down the high street, and pulled straight faces and 20 quid to be allowed entry. Unfortunately, it was at this point that I started to lose sense of what was happening and 2 ill advised shots of tequila later I could barely see the light bouncing off the well polished poles let alone the dancers wrapped around them. The club turned out be a bust (Heheh) and as we left, I called my roommate Ms. Popularity, who had earlier that night let me down by not calling the bank to block my thankfully not lost credit card, and asked her to send me a cab since I couldn't get through to the taxi service. I bid my new friends goodbye, and waited at the designated spot for ages until a cabbie came around asking if I had called for a cab and told me he'd been waiting but I didn't show. I argued that I was standing exactly where I said I'd be, he didn't believe me, asked for the money upfront, and dropped me home where I dragged myself up the stairs, plonked on my bed, and drifted off.
This recipe is the recipe for the biryani I would have made if I hadn't gotten so uncharacteristically plastered (although I don't regret it one bit!).
For my Chicken Biryani, you will need the following:
Prep
Chicken:
And remember, overeating is a myth. A full tummy is a happy tummy!
Perhaps it was the alcohol, actually I'm sure it was the alcohol, but someone suggested we pop over to an 'exotic' club in the vicinity (it wasn't me, I didn't even know that it existed!). We stumbled out of the pub, tittered down the high street, and pulled straight faces and 20 quid to be allowed entry. Unfortunately, it was at this point that I started to lose sense of what was happening and 2 ill advised shots of tequila later I could barely see the light bouncing off the well polished poles let alone the dancers wrapped around them. The club turned out be a bust (Heheh) and as we left, I called my roommate Ms. Popularity, who had earlier that night let me down by not calling the bank to block my thankfully not lost credit card, and asked her to send me a cab since I couldn't get through to the taxi service. I bid my new friends goodbye, and waited at the designated spot for ages until a cabbie came around asking if I had called for a cab and told me he'd been waiting but I didn't show. I argued that I was standing exactly where I said I'd be, he didn't believe me, asked for the money upfront, and dropped me home where I dragged myself up the stairs, plonked on my bed, and drifted off.
This recipe is the recipe for the biryani I would have made if I hadn't gotten so uncharacteristically plastered (although I don't regret it one bit!).
For my Chicken Biryani, you will need the following:
Chicken | 500 gms (on the bone) |
Rice (basmati) | 2-3 cups |
Onions | 4 |
Tomato | 1 large |
Ginger garlic paste | 3 tsp |
Bay leaves | 2 |
Cloves | 4 |
Cardamom (elaichi) pods | 2 |
Cinnamon | 1" stick |
Dhaniya (coriander) powder | 2-3 tsp |
Red chilli powder | 2 tsp |
Haldi (turmeric) | pinch |
Jeera powder | 2 tsp |
Garam masala | 2-3 tsp |
Dahi (yoghurt) | 1 tbsp |
Green chillies | 2 |
Coriander leaves | big handful |
Mint leaves | big handful |
Salt | to taste |
Kesar (saffron) | pinch |
Milk | splash |
Ghee/oil |
Prep
- Toss the chicken into a bowl.
- Spoon in the dahi, 1 tsp of ginger garlic paste, pinch of haldi, 1 tsp of red chilli powder, 2 tsp dhaniya powder and salt.
- Lovingly mix the contents of the bowl.
- Wash hands.
- Cover the bowl up and put it in the fridge for an hour.
- Slice the onions.
- Chop the tomato.
- Chop the chillies.
- Chop the coriander leaves.
- Chop the mint leaves.
Chicken:
- Turn on the gas.
- Bung a pan on.
- Splash in the ghee/oil.
- Count to 20.
- Pop in the bay leaves, cloves, cardamoms, and the cinnamon.
- Wait until you can smell the whole spices cooking.
- Chuck in the onions.
- Roll in the chillies.
- Add in the ginger garlic paste.
- Cook until the onions are brown.
- Drop the heat to low.
- Sprinkle in the red chilli powder.
- Add in the dhaniya powder.
- Shake in the jeera powder.
- Pinch in the haldi.
- Add in the garam masala.
- Mix like crazy before it burns!
- Toss in the tomatoes.
- Mix well, using the water in the tomato to deglaze the kadhai i.e. get the sticky bits off.
- Bump the heat back up to medium.
- Cook until the oil separates from the mixture.
- Retrieve the bowl of chicken from the fridge.
- Dump the contents into the kadhai.
- Mix until the chicken is nicely coated with the masala.
- Add salt to taste.
- Add 1 cup of water. (Not too much, you don't want a gravy.)
- Mix and slap a lid on.
- Cook for 20-25 minutes, stirring occasionally until the chicken is done.
- Take lid off and adjust the consistency. You want a thickish masala.
- Turn the gas off.
- Set aside for a few.
- Rinse the rice 3-4 times with cold water in a saucepan.
- Add the same number of cups of water as the rice.
- Turn the gas on.
- Bung the saucepan on.
- Add in a big dollop of ghee.
- Sprinkle in some garam masla and a couple of bay leaves.
- Add salt to taste.
- Crank the heat up to high.
- Drop to low and put half the lid on when it comes to a boil.
- Cook until the water is all gone. The rice will still have a bite but that's okay since it will cook after we layer it with the chicken.
- Grab a pressure cooker (or a large patila/saucepan).
- Layer the chicken at the bottom.
- Add a layer of rice on top.
- Sprinkle on some garam masala and drizzle on some ghee.
- Sprinkle on a handful of the chopped coriander and mint leaves.
- Repeat the layers until you've used up the rice and chicken. (This quantity will safely do 2 layers.)
- Pour a half cup of water over the top. (If you've cooked the chicken in a separate pan, pour the water into that and swish it around to collect the masala stuck to the sides and pour that over the top instead.)
- Put the kesar in a splash of warm milk and drizzle it evenly over the top.
- Slap the lid on and lock it so that it's airtight. (Line the edge with atta/dough if you are using a patila/saucepan)
- Turn on the smallest burner on low, and pop the cooker on.
- Let it sit for about 15-20 minutes.
- Turn the gas off.
- Pop open the lid.
- Serve with raita and a sprinkle of crispy onions on top.
- Stuff face.
- Bask in the glory of your successfully executed dish.
And remember, overeating is a myth. A full tummy is a happy tummy!
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