CR | Tacolicious

Ladies and gents, we’ve found a new restaurant that we are completely and totally, head-over-heels in love with.

It was touch-and-go for a bit. This restaurant joins several good ones on Chestnut street, which are all plagued with the same problem. On a weekend, they are impossible to get into without a reservation or a long wait. Tacolicious is no different. It’s great for the restaurant but awful for the people who just spent forty-five minutes finding parking only to find that a table is another forty-five minutes away. This was in its second open week. San Franciscans sure know how to welcome restaurants with open arms and wallets.

The next time we got in through the door, but were nearly blasted right back out by the sheer wall of sound and people that greeted us. The music was intensely loud and I found myself screaming at the hostess about tables and the bar. Finally, we grabbed a couple of tacos, guacamole and some fried plantains to-go and blew out of the place. Conversation of any kind was impossible in there. Call me crazy, but I like discussing the food and other world events with my dinner companions as I eat. Not that I would have gotten to rest on even half a bar stool that night. Tacolicious was living the very high life.

It might have been a to-go order, but it was packed with the same care and precision that I was to later realize that they put into all their food. The fresh tortilla chips and salsa that arrive at your table for you to nibble on as you peruse the menu had been thoughtfully included. So were the three different kinds of salsa that arrive with the tacos. You can tell a lot about restaurants serving Mexican food from their salsa and guacamole. Tacolicious scores flashing high numbers in this regard. They have this tangy green tomatillo salsa and smoky brown chipotle salsa, along with a searing yellow habenero one that set the soul of this chilli lover ablaze. The guacamole was easily some of the best I’ve eaten in a restaurant, with a creamy consistency, sour but not too much. We were hooked.

The next couple of times that we went, we got tables. While the restaurant was loud, it was no longer shooting for airfield decibels. My favourite visit was last night. The far end of the copper-covered bar is smartly sectioned off, with stacks of bowls, plates and glasses to form its own little ‘table’. On a packed Wednesday night, this is the table we were lucky to get. I loved every second because I was right up where the chefs were cooking the taco fillings and cutting through fleshy avocadoes to stir up their amazing guacamole. Right next to our “table” is where the orders come up so I got to see a lot of the other platings. That, coupled with the fact that our food came to us the second it was ready, made for a fantastic experience. I enjoy watching professionals cook almost too much for someone who hates being watched when she cooks. I almost wondered how the chefs cope, but that was before I realized that almost no other customer was watching them as closely or giddily as I was.

The food was as amazing as it has previously been. We tried their queso for the first time and were as entertained by its cheesy, jalapeno goodness as we were by its description which reads “Sustainable? No. Local? Nope. Delicious? Yep.” I loved that the restaurant has a gentle sense of humour. I’m all for eating & buying local, but there is such a thing in San Francisco as a menu that forgets that its primary purpose is to explain what the restaurant is serving that day, instead of pretentious locavorism. (Not there wasn’t some of that on this menu. It is, after all, a San Francisco restaurant. Nothing over-the-top though.) The shot & beer braised chicken tacos are amazing. The fall-apart chicken is delicious in its sauce, which combined with the salsas, shoots right out of this world. The chorizo-and-potato tacos were like a clarion call to my tastebuds, with shades of shepherd’s pie. The tacos are about four inch in diameter. You might think them small, but make no mistake, they are just right.

Sitting next to the place where the orders were being dished up as I was, I chatted with the friendly and efficient wait-staff as they prepped little square, white bowls of colourful salsa and bamboo serving spoons. They asked us how we liked our food and pointed out several of their favourites on the menu that they thought we ought to try. I loved their energy given that it was pretty late when I got there after an evening class. Their energetic, cheery vibe coupled with the fabulous food blew the tiring day right out of my head.

Dessert was the only place where we hit a jarring note. We tried the pan con chocolate. Much as I am a fan of nutella and toast for breakfast, I wouldn’t eat it for dessert. But this is the feeling I got when I tried to eat the luscious, ganache-like mousse with the served-alongside crostatas. I really think I’d prefer churros instead. Or nothing at all. The chocolate mousse-ganache is fabulous all on its own, served with the sprinkling of sea salt and drizzle of olive oil. I got lost in chocolate heaven while Amey used the crostata to mop up the last remnants of the salsa, which he completely adored.

By the end of the meal, we were completely won over, by the food and the courteous staff alike. There were plenty of people around for a Wednesday night but the restaurant had now taken on the vibe of a busy, neighbourhood pub instead of trendy restaurant. I asked some girls sitting close by how they liked their margaritas and they told us they thought they were some of the best on that street. High praise indeed for a restaurant that shares the street with a more established favourite of mine, Mamacita. Tacolicious has vegetarian options as well. The squash taco sounded pretty good, as did the Thursday night poblano pepper, lemon-herb rice special. Their specials are different every night. I haven’t tried any of them yet.

Whether you want to eat delicious food, people-watch or just grab a drink or two late at night, Tacolicious is a high contender. It’s open until midnight seven days a week, which alone would get it several accolades in a town where most restaurants don’t go beyond ten on weeknights. The trendy decor has traditional motifs quietly worked in, like the very catholic prayer candles that flicker away on the farthest wall, casting a warm glow on the dark, brown finish. As the Mexicano waiter waved a Shukriya (thank you in Hindi) to me as I walked out, I had one of those rare spinning moments I experience here in San Francisco sometimes, that of two worlds colliding, yet inescapably and warmly being home.

★★★★

Tacolicious
2031 Chestnut St. @ Fillmore St.,
415-346-1966

To review…

Whether by the mysterious weave of the looms of Fate or by sheer, dumb luck; I find that the bulk of my life has been spent in two very foodcentric cities on two different continents. Both Bombay and San Francisco celebrate their love of all that is eatworthy through some awesome food establishments. The citizens all have their own favourites, and rightly so. In the rich tapestry of the food scene of either city, there are brilliant threads that sometimes get lost in the overall fabric, so it is a good thing that there are several voices championing them. In that vein, the question that I think I’ve been asked the most is “What’s a good place to eat?”. Tough, because this is probably the one question that will get the longest-winded answer from me.

In this new series I’m starting, I’ll review some of my favourite restaurants, bakeries, roach-coaches (Yes really. I’ve eaten the best food through some of them), indeed any place that serves something you can eat. The focus of these will be San Francisco and the surrounding Bay area, though if I travel to Bombay, you can bet my childhood loves there will be covered with unabashed glee. (I hope they are all still around, I cry rivers when I hear one of them has shut down.) The reviews will by no means be comprehensive of the menu, centered as they will be on my own personal experience. I know what I like. If you’ve been reading my blog for sometime and have maybe tried a recipe or two, hopefully our taste in food travels in the same direction and my suggestions will work for you. They seem to for friends and family.

When possible, the reviews will be accompanied by photographs. But these will, in no way, compare to the food photos you’re used to seeing on this site. For the most part, the photos will be taken on my Iphone. Most of my eating out happens around dinner time and the romantic (bordering on slasher flick) lighting most restaurants use around here aren’t conducive to photography, so the photos may not be genius. They will also be quick since I don’t think it’s fair to make my friends and family suffer for my art when we’re outside. They have to at home anyhow. I’m also going to use that page as a place where I’ll be listing restaurants that I want to try, which will get reviewed as I do.

I also plan to review all the cookbooks I own/use. Somebody has to and all signs point to me. I do this in the hopes that it will help me downsize my burgeoning collection of books and get rid of the chaff, while retaining some choice prizes. The only two ground rules I’m setting myself for the book reviews are whether the recipes work (if it is a cook book) and if the book is a fun/educational read. I think these are key to the success of a good book about food.

My ratings will be in the form of red & blue stars upto a highest possible of 5 stars. Red stars trump blue ones which means a restaurant or book with ★★★ is rated higher than one with ★★★. Consider it a way for me to award half stars in a sense.

These ‘Cheeky review’ posts (thoughtfully tagged with a CR prelude) will show up when I have a place/book to tell you about. Eventually, I hope all my food related knowledge will find a home on this blog. To clear these things out of my head is one of the big reasons I started this blog. I’ll start it off tomorrow with a really good restaurant I want to tell you about (hint: the address is on that receipt in the photo). If you love Mexican food, stay tuned!

Biryani break

Stop and stare on any street in Bombay and your eye is likely to register at least three places to eat in any direction, be it the ubiquitous sandwich seller or chaat house. (I don’t suggest you do this though. You’re likely to get shoved about and cursed at in seven different languages if you stop longer than 5 seconds. Just like in New York, waffling about in Bombay will raise temperatures faster than the heat of the summer.) Bombayites, present and former, love food. We love eating it, arguing about it and seeking it out. You will be spoilt for choice with all that the city has to offer. Naturally, any native will have categorical and vociferous opinions about where the best “insert suitable food item here” is available. It will not necessarily be the fanciest restaurant around, though there are a fair amount of luxurious examples with incredible food. No, sometimes the best of things can be found in street food or in your humble, no-nonsense lunch homes.

One such no-frills restaurant was Lucky Restaurant in the West Bandra neighbourhood. This is where I first tasted biryani and where I fell irrevocably in love with it. When I was growing up, this establishment served some of the best available restaurant biryani around. For the  uninitiated, biryani is one of the most delicious things you could eat. There is stewed meat cooked slowly with yoghurt and spices, along with the irresistibly fragrant basmati rice. The resultant dish is a thing of delight, a delicacy of dreams. Over the years, the quality of Lucky became a bit unreliable. That you had to be ‘lucky to have a good meal at Lucky‘ became a standing joke. I hear it still has its good days along with its bad ones, but the good ones are pretty great.

Of the myriad recipes that include rice, there is nothing quite as spectacular as biryani. It is said to originate in Persia, making its way to India along with the conquering Mughals via Afghanistan. It was a favourite food of the conquering kings and made its way all over India as the Mughal influence grew. This resulted in several adaptations to their meat and rice creation, including a vegetarian version of it. There are slight differences depending upon the region that attaches its name before the biryani. But broadly classified, there are two categories based on the cooking method, one where the meat is cooked separately from the rice and then assembled in layers (pukki biryani), and the other where the two cook together (kacchi biryani).

For this toothsome dish, the meat is marinated, with yoghurt, papaya and spices. Rice is parboiled and fried. Everything is put in an earthenware pot, sealed with dough at the edges and then slowly heated. Cooked this way, it is divine. Traditional biryani takes time and patience. Both are things that rarely come together to me. Convinced as I am that I’d make a hash of it, I can’t think of any dish that I’d be more depressed about screwing up. Nothing tastes as bad as mushed-up cakey rice. That’s why this recipe is a godsend.

Indian mothers and grandmoms might sniff disparagingly at this version. It lays no claims to being the authentic way to make biryani. It is, however, fast and easy (insert appropriate bad joke here). You don’t need to marinate the meat, the rice doesn’t need to be fried, and the dish comes together in about 30-40 minutes,  some of which is simply cooking time requiring little involvement from you. The fragrance of the basmati settles in and gets to know the other spices. The house fills with the heady aroma and there’s little you can do to calm the hunger growing within. You can barely wait for the cooking to be done before you heap a generous serving onto a plate, spooning some of the cooling raita alongside. You maneuver that first spoonful of chicken. potato and rice, tinged with a just little raita, into your mouth. The spices and textures explode in your mouth and fill you with an intense satisfaction. Authentic or not, you don’t care. You have yourself a plate of chicken biryani.

Quick Chicken Biryani
Serves 3-4

Boneless chicken – 1 pound, cut into 1 inch pieces
Basmati rice – 1 1/2 cups uncooked
Cumin seeds -1 tsp
Cinnamon – 1 stick
Bay leaves -2
Cloves – 5 to 6
Turmeric powder – 1/4 tsp
Green cardamoms – 3 to 4
Red chilli powder – 1 tsp
Garam masala powder – 1/2 teaspoon
Ginger paste – 3/4 tbsp
Ginger (fresh) – 1 inch piece, cut into matchsticks
Garlic paste – 3/4 tbsp
Green chillies – 3, slit longitudinally
Red Onions – 2 large, slivered
Potatoes – 2 medium, cut into one inch cubes
Tomatoes – 2 medium, diced
Thick yogurt – 1 cup
Mint leaves – a handful, roughly torn
Coriander leaves – a handful, roughly torn
Milk – 1/2 cup, warmed
Saffron – a few strands, soaked in the milk.
Canola Oil – 3 to 4 tbsp
Salt to taste

- Wash the basmati and soak it for at least 30 minutes.
- Meanwhile fry half the slivered onions until golden brown.
- Heat water in a pot and salt it generously as it comes to a boil. Boil rice until parboiled (just about done).
- In a pan, heat the oil. Add cinnamon, bay leaves, cloves, cumin seeds, green cardamoms and sauté for half a minute.
- Add the reserved sliced onions and sauté. Add slit green chillies, chicken cubes and potatoes and continue to sauté.
- Add turmeric powder, tomatoes and salt and mix to incorporate. Then add the ginger and garlic pastes, red chilli powder, yogurt and salt. Mix well and cook for a bit until mixture comes to a boil.
- Turn down the heat. Add half the fried brown onion, then mix in the parboiled rice. Sprinkle garam masala powder, ginger strips, mint leaves and coriander leaves.
- Pour in the warmed milk and saffron mixture and add the remaining browned onions. Cover and cook on low heat for about ten minutes.

Serve hot accompanied by the raita below or with slices of raw onion sprinkled with some lime juice and salt.

Tomato & Onion Raita

Yoghurt – 1 cup
Tomato – 1 medium, chopped
Onion – 1/2, diced
Green Chilli – 1, chopped fine
Cumin & Coriander powder – a pinch
Coriander leaves – 1 tsp, chopped fine
Sugar – a pinch
Salt & pepper to taste

- Mix all the above ingredients together. Set aside for ten minutes before serving.

Cook’s notes:
Soak the rice before you boil it. This helps get rid of some of the starch coating and makes the rice less sticky. The importance of using basmati rice here cannot be stressed enough. It is fragrant and robust enough to stand up to cooking in the fairly substantial gravy without mushing up. It’s a bit less sticky than other varieties of rice, which also helps. It is the rice of choice for biryani.

Customarily, biryani is made bone-in. It adds to the flavour. Using boneless here will help it cook a bit faster. As far as dark or white meat is concerned, use whatever kind of chicken you like. Either or both turn out great. I love potatoes in biryani so for me they are essential, but they don’t have to be for you. The schools of biryani differ on their inclusion, or not. You could use a couple of boiled eggs, cut into halves or quarters instead. Increase the amount of chilli powder if you want a spicier biryani, or reduce for a milder version. You could also also add a few roasted cashews. Some people add soaked raisins, but not me. I’ve never been able to deal with raisins in savoury foods. A note for the uninitiated: the whole spices in the dish are meant to be set aside as you eat, not consumed.

This recipe is more than successful if you feel an overwhelming need for biryani in a hurry. If you’re excited about it and have some time on your hands, try this fabulous one from Mona at Zaiqa. Hyderabadi biryani is one of the best kinds you can have. I dream about making it someday soon, if I can get over that gnawing certainty that I’d muck it up.

My chocolate and marshmallow valentine

In the new movie Valentine’s Day, there is a scene toward the end between Jennifer Garner and Ashton Kutcher, who play long-time best friends in the movie. It is one to which Amey and I can relate. Being married to your best friend means there is almost nothing that you cannot discuss with your other half, whether it be the dissection of a ‘moment’ or an irrational obsession with all things marshmallow.

It’s pre-Valentine’s day and a gorgeous, sunny February day in NorCal. I should be outside, revelling in the light and soaking up the sunshine. Instead I’m sitting here, glued to my computer and feverishly tapping away on the keyboard. Why? Because the marshmallow made me do it. It was aided and abetted by the chocolate.

That is how intensely good these homemade marshmallows are. If you are a sucker for these soft white melting pillows, and I am, you will be riotously giddy about how easy this recipe is and how entertaining they are to make. I haven’t had this much serious fun cooking since I made plasticine pies when I was five. There is the same sort of creative discovery and satisfaction to be found here. An intensely childlike glee takes root in you as you watch the alpine white fluff come together around a whirring whisk, which is weaving meandering furrows through it.

It is about as simple as putting together a homemade jelly, perhaps even easier. The marshmallow turns out divine, with an evanescent melting consistency and a gorgeously speckled sponge-like appearance that a store-bought variety could never hope to have. The only tedious thing about it is just how sticky it all is. Be warned, the only thing more adherent is super glue. Visions of Tom & Jerry flashed through my head as I had desperately tried to shake stubborn bits off my fingers on to the the sugared wax paper, without wall-papering the kitchen in the process. Thankfully, I made two batches. They were needed.

The marshmallows were supposed to have been the whole idea. The chocolate was only going to be there to lend some tone. They were going to be chocolate covered marshmallows.What I failed to remember was that the meeting of molten chocolate and the gentle mallow has to be very brief. Carried away by the moment, I gave the marshmallow a rigorous dunking, which resulted in it resembling the Wicked Witch of the West in the last scene of Wizard of Oz (with appropriate substitutions of white for green). Chocolate, as it inevitably will, took over my marshmallow world.

So, humbled and wiser, I present to you, marshmallows, marshmallows with sploshes of chocolate and my own concocted version of chocolate truffles. The overabundance of melted chocolate demanded that I do something with it. I would never be able to look a chocolate chip in the metaphorical eye again if I hadn’t.

Today was a day filled with amusement and learning. It was almost as if Cupid, the presiding spirit of the day, had abdicated to Loki. The results of the day, however, were undeniably tasty.

Homemade Marshmallows
Adapted from Gourmet via Smitten Kitchen
Makes a 9 X 13 inch slab

Sugar – 2 cups
Light corn syrup – 1/2 cup
Powdered gelatin – 3 1/2 packets
Cold water – 1 cup (used separately in 1/2 cups)
Salt – a pinch
Egg whites – 2
Vanilla extract – 3/4 tbsp
Orange extract – 1/4 tbsp
Powdered sugar – as needed

- Pour 1/2 cup of cold water into a bowl and sprinkle the gelatin in over it. Set aside.
- Grease a 9X13 baking dish with butter and sprinkle over powdered sugar evenly to coat.
- In a pot with a thick base, mix together the remaining water, sugar, corn syrup and salt over low heat. Stir the sugar to dissolve.
- Turn up the heat and insert a candy thermometer into the pot. Heat until the temperature of the sugar syrup hits 240ºF.
- Pour the sugar syrup into the softened gelatin and stir to dissolve the gelatin. Then using a hand mixer (or stand mixer) on high speed, beat the sugar and gelatin mixture until it goes a thick and creamy white and increases in volume.
- In a separate bowl, beat the egg whites (with clean beaters) until they just start to hold their peaks.
- Add the egg whites to the sugar and gelatin mixture, followed by the flavouring extracts. Beat together until incorporated.
- Pour into the prepped baking dish, then place into the fridge to set for at least three hours.
- To remove the marshmallow slab from the baking dish, loosen the sides and bottom with a knife before turning it out onto liberally sugared wax paper.
- Cut into shapes of your choice (using metal shape cutters or a knife) and use the scraps for dissolving into hot chocolate.

Chocolate Brandy Truffles
Makes  20-25 truffles

Dark chocolate – 4 oz
Bittersweet chocolate – 11 oz
Whipping cream – 1/4 cup
Brandy – 1/4 cup
Light corn syrup – 2 tbsp
Cocoa powder – for dusting, about 1/2 cup

- Place a bowl over a pot of boiling water. Add the chocolate chips/ pieces of chocolate into the bowl and allow to melt.
- As the chocolate starts to melt, add the cream and the brandy. Stir vigorously.
- Add the corn syrup to the melted chocolate and cream mixture. The texture will be a bit grainy. Stir it to make sure everything is melted, than move the upper bowl off the boiling pot of water.
- Allow the chocolate mixture to cool until you can touch it by hand. It will also start to solidify a bit. Pinch out large marble-sized portions and roll on your palms to form round balls.
- Place all completed truffles on a tray and dust over with generous amounts of cocoa powder.
- Cool in the fridge for at least thirty minutes before serving.

Cook’s notes:
I’m euphoric about how amazing this homemade marshmallow is. Or that could just be this huge sugar high that I’m on at the moment. (Observation #1- Express superhuman willpower and prevent yourself from too much testing while you cook, especially if said cooking is happening on an empty stomach. The place I am in right now is a see-saw ride.) You can use just vanilla, but I loved the orange milkshake flavour of the combination of the two extracts. Use metal to cut the shapes, plastic just won’t be sharp enough. The recipe is very good. As I noted before, marshmallow sticks to everything. This is the only drawback here. You’ve been warned.

The chocolate truffles where smooth with hints of the brandy. (I have no idea if this is how truffles are made exactly and am too wired to do the research immediately. Perhaps tomorrow, I will be able to post my findings.) These trufflesque spheres of chocolate are sublime and were responsible for delivering the coup de grâce to vault me into this Energizer bunny act I’ve got going on. (Observation #2 – Perhaps making both of these together isn’t the best idea. Do learn from my very tasty mistakes.)

Now if you will excuse me, I have to go scrub a kitchen or two. Then maybe I’ll go wash the beach. Or ride the Mavericks.

Eat your vegetables

There is grating sanctimony in the general intent that you must eat something because it is good for you. Taking this quite rigourously to heart, well-meaning yet hapless parents have urged scores of chilidren over millenia to tuck into things that they have no natural affinity for. Unfortunately, the things children do make a beeline for, like sugar and chips, are quite bad for them. This makes for the eternal tussle between harried parents and their stubborn progeny who firmly refuse to open their mouths when they see suspicious and unknown things on their plate. Most children must feel that there is an inescapable, unseen plot to ensure their gastronomical suffering. As a child, I know I often did.

Eating a thing just because it is good for you makes little sense to me, though it is a sentiment with which I’ve made peace with some difficulty. I’ve been taken in by needing to eat purely for health, forcing myself at one point to try to eat fish. It was an experiment that ended in disaster, as it was doomed to from the start. We refuse to eat lots of things as children, sometimes growing to like them as adults. Yet grown-up children all around tell me that they do not like something because they were force-fed it as children. I suspect this is only half true, as I had to admit after my tryst with “chicken of the sea”. The moment you step out into the world on your own, you take the reins of your life into your own hands. This includes what you will or won’t eat, and honestly, how long are you going to blame your palette on the actions of a well-meaning parent?

'Calvin & Hobbes' comic strip by Bill Watterson

There are also, on the other hand, scores of adults who will commit to the martyrdom of eating things that are good for them with an obsessive fervour. This, I have to admit, confounds me completely. In a world filled with a variety of food and countless modes of preparation, it is not at all difficult to find fruits, meat, seafood or vegetables that are not only good for you, but also taste good to you. Why persevere in punishing yourself by living by someone else’s rules? You can find exactly what works for you, is healthy for you and will keep you happy eating it through a lifetime. This doesn’t take a lot of time or effort on your part, just a little exploration. Think about that the next time you find yourself wishing you liked radish, because everyone is raving about it. You really don’t have to.

Stews or multiple-ingredient soups are great way to try something new if you really aren’t sure about it. They offer you a way to add a little bit of the new ingredient to a bunch of tried, tested and liked ingredients. A dish focused on a new element might end up wasted if you just don’t take to it. In the broad confines of a stew, however, you could either eat it or around it. Consider it a safe haven of newer things, one where they are a part of the whole, rather than the entire deal. This stew is one that lends itself well to this philosophy.

Stews are brilliant, whether you’re trying to feed a bunch of hungry friends or a small army. (I first tried this one when I organised a surprise birthday party for Amey last year, aided by our friends.) They can be made a day ahead. In fact, they are all the better for being made in advance since the different elements have time to lend their flavour notes to the ultimate symphony. The secondary ingredients are often interchangeable with others. They also the ultimate in comfort food. Nothing spells warm and cozy better than fragrant bowls filled with generous helpings of steaming stew. This particular one is high on the warming list, since it gets its base notes from two different chilli purées.

You will find that the stew certainly cannot be filed under ‘quick and easy weeknight recipes’, not unless you have all the prep work done up in advance. Starting from scratch, this will take you some time. You need to make the base chilli purées, then use them to make the plantain-chilli sauce that defines this meal. There are several vegetables that go into it, that have to be part roasted and part stir-fried. Then the whole thing comes together and boils for a bit before you can eat it. Is it worth it? Oh yes, most definitely. The chillies are more smoky than hot when you use them with discretion and they produce this unforgettable, original and lingering taste. The birthday boy couldn’t get enough of it. What else would look for in a surprise party meal?

New Mexican Border Stew
Adapted from Everyday Greens by Annie Somerville
Makes six servings

For the Plantain-Chilli sauce:
Ancho Chilli purée – 1 tbsp (see recipe below)
Chipotle purée – 1 tsp ( see below)
Plantain, very ripe – 1/2 pound, diced
Canned tomatoes – 28 oz can, coarsely chopped, reserve juice
Cumin seeds – 1 tsp
Dried Oregano – 1/2 tsp
Salt to taste
Water – 1 cup

- Boil the water. Add the plantain and lower the heat to a simmer.
- Add the remaining ingredients and cook for about 20 minutes.

For the stew:-
Butternut squash – 1 medium, cut into 1/2″ cubes
Yellow Onion – 1 large, chopped
Zucchini – 2 medium, cut in half lengthwise, then sliced on the bias into 1/2″ thick slices
Yellow or red Capsicum – 1, cut into thick strips, then squares
Hominy (canned) – 1/2 cup, rinsed
Garlic – 2-3 cloves, minced fine
Cumin seeds – 1 tsp
Dried Oregano – 1/2 tsp
Water – 1 cup
Lime juice – 1/2 lime
Cilantro -  3 tbsp, chopped
Olive Oil – 2 1/2 tsp
Chipotle purée – to taste
Salt and pepper to taste

- Preheat the oven to 400°F.
- Toss the squash with some salt and pepper, 1 tbsp oil and 1/2 tsp of garlic and spread in a single layer on a baking sheet in the oven. Roast for 10 minutes, then turn the pieces over and rast for another 10 minutes.
- Heat remaining oil in a pot with a heavy base, on medium high. Sauté the onions with a pinch of salt and pepper until they soften a bit.
- Add the reserved galic, cumin and oregano and mix.
- Add the pepper pieces along with some water and cook a few minutes.
- Pour in the hominy and the plantain-chilli sauce prepared earlier. Add the roasted butternut squash, zucchini and the remaining water. Season with salt and pepper.
- Lower the heat and cover the pot. Simmer the stew for about 20 minutes or so.
- Uncover and add the lime juice. Add more chipotle purée if you need a stronger chilli flavour.

Garnish with cilantro before serving.

Ancho-Chilli purée:-
Makes 1/2 cup

Ancho Chillies – 2, dried
Boiling water – 1 cup

- Toast the chillies on a skillet or pan (even on a flame) without burning, until they puff up a bit.
- Take off the stem on top and empty out the seeds inside the chilli.
- Put the chillies in a bowl and cover with boiling water to soften for 15-20 minutes.
- Whizz up the chillies in the food processor with a few tbsps of the soaking water to form a thickish paste.
- The purée will keep, covered and refrigerated, for about two weeks.

Chipotle Purée:-
Makes the same amount as the contents of the can

Chipotle chillies in Adobo sauce – 1 can

- Whizz the contents of the can in a food processor to form a smooth sauce.
Stores in the fridge for a long, long time. Cover the surface with a little oil before storing

Cook’s notes:-
The multitude of ingredients and steps involved here might give the most enthusiastic cook pause. However, the results make the work worthwhile. Besides, there are various ways to make your job a bit quicker. When I made this for the party, I used the cut butternut squash cubes available at Trader joe’s (refrigerated, not frozen) along with frozen ready cut pepper strips. It was one of many dishes I cooked that morning and I started from making the purées. (Ideally I would have preferred making it the day before but this risked Amey discovering it, thereby unravelling a very carefully laid birthday plot). The second time, I used a whole butternut squash. This jacked up the time required to cook this dish to almost double, with little difference in the final tasting. I’d say go for the precut veggies and make your life a bit easier. Unless you like wrestling with a squash. I didn’t think the effort was worth the outcome in this case.

You can also quite entirely change out the vegetables for others. I’ve used yellow corn instead of hominy once, threw in sweet potatoes instead of squash and carrots instead of zucchini. Carrots are actually dynamite in this stew. I used some leftover mushrooms that I had once. Keep the sauce about the same and you can get great results with several veggie combinations. Feel free to make up your own. You need soft textures contrasting with something that will lend a bit of crunch, and you’re set. The plantains used should ideally be the really ugly over-ripe ones. This gives a hint of sweetness to the sauce. If you can’t find ripe plantains, use what you find and add a touch of honey to the sauce.

The chipotle purée lasts forever, or at least a very long time. It’s quite fiery, so use it wisely depending on your tolerance. The ancho purée goes a couple of weeks. It is very mild, almost sweet and works great in just about anything so it is easy to use up. If you’re worried about storage, make the purée using only one ancho chilli. Both ancho chillies and the chipotle in adobo sauce are easily available in supermarkets (at least in the states that share a border with Mexico) or online. Both ingredients are great finds.

This recipe is sublime in winter, served with cornbread or couscous or over steamed rice. It makes cold fade away for a bit. Your health will be happy with all the fiber and anti-oxidants while your tastebuds will be having such a rocking party, they will thank you too.