Fifty Weeks, Fifty Curries: Week Twenty-Eight: Chicken Dopiaza
When softlykarou told me about this week's curry, she described it as "Chicken & Onions," and I thought that sounded pretty nice. I used to hate onions, but that's been wrong for half a decade now. I haven't cared about onion content since about halfway through the time we lived in Japan. So I didn't think much of it until Friday, when she told me that it took nine onions. We went shopping as we usually did, bought nine onions, and ended up devoting one of our usual grocery bags in order to contain the onion overflow.
So today I was playing Dark Souls as I've been doing a lot lately (more on that in ~20 hours of gametime!), and I noticed my eyes were itching. At first I thought it was just because I was tired, since I woke up at 7:30 a.m. yesterday and 8:30 a.m. today even after going to bed at 1 a.m., but it continued after I closed my eyes. Then I realized what was happening--softlykarou was preparing dinner, and even though the computer room is at the complete opposite end of the apartment from the kitchen, the entire apartment had become saturated with onion.
The Company of the Onion shall be nine...
Onion. Onion onion onion onion onion onion. Onion onion. Onion onion onion onion onion onion onion onion onion onion onion onion onion onion onion onion onion onion onion onion.
Onion.
Okay, enough of that. This curry was shit. There have been other curries that have basically relied on a single gimmick, like palak gosht with spinach, but I haven't had any major objection to any of them until now. Chicken dopiaza didn't have anything to make it stand out other than the constant taste of onion and giant hunks of onion in the mix. There was barely even any spice other than the slight tang of onion. I could see hot peppers in the sauce, but none of their taste came through at all. It was just onion, onion, all the time onion. It should have been called Onion and chicken curry, which would have been a much more accurate advertisement.
Freshly squeeeeezed, onion juuuuuiice.
Words from the ChefNine onions.
I had. To chop. Nine. Onions.
Bobbing for onions?
Let me put it this way. In essentially every other curry we've had, even the ones I've been lukewarm on, I've cleaned up my plate and taken the extra from softlykarou's plate because I eat a truly enormous amount of food. This week, everything she didn't eat got thrown out. Much of the onions in my plate got thrown out, and all the giant chunks of onion in the uneaten curry that went to leftovers got thrown out. I'm actually planning on cooking up some carrots and maybe cabbage and other vegetables with the leftovers when I eat them so I can dilute the overpowering onion taste.
Actually, this reminds me of something that happened when I was on my first band trip on my sophomore year of high school. We were going to Washington DC, and somewhere in Ohio, we stopped at a rest stop for lunch. I walked into the McDonald's and ordered a combo, and they asked me if I wanted extra onions. Blindsided by the question (I'd never gotten that question in Illinois), I said yes, and then proceeded to glumly chew through my incredibly oniony cheeseburger. I expect I had a pretty similar expression on my face when I was eating dinner.
Notice giant chunk of onion. Also notice the fresh vegetables prepared by softlykarou, who thought we'd need something to counteract the taste of cooked onions.
I'm not looking forward to eating the leftovers. Usually I can just come home, throw things in the microwave and eat away, and even if it's a curry I've been lukewarm on like bori curry I've usually at least been moderately happy about eating the leftovers because I know I can eat them as soon as I get home. That's not true here. Eating any more chicken dopiaza is going to take some effort in order to make it palatable, and I'm not really looking forward to that. Mostly, I think, because it's starting from a low point and I'm not sure exactly what I can do to make it any better other than mastering the power of the Charcoal March of Spiders Style and transforming its fundamental nature. And I'm not willing to meditate under waterfalls in the wilderness just to eat some curry.
Here's the best summary of my reaction to this curry:
Would I Eat It Again?: If I found a tin of it on a long-dead corpse in the crudely-made bunker that I had taken shelter in from the night, which now swarmed with horrors from the Darkness Between the Stars due to the Earth passing into a long-prophecied stellar alignment and becoming congruent with dimensions too horrific to imagine...maybe.
Do I Prefer It to the Usual Thai Curry?: Let us say that I do not.
What Would I Change?: I would change page 122 of 50 Great Curries of India to a happy page of puppies frolicking in a field of spring flowers, and I would cast the current page into the Outer Darkness, where there shall be wailing and gnashing of teeth. Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob shall be there, and all the righteous shall come there and feast at the feast which shall be prepared for them, but the unworthy ones shall be cast out unto the end of days. Amen.
Currently Drinking to Get the Taste of Onions Out of My Mouth: Koval Honey and Chrysanthemum Liqueur.
So today I was playing Dark Souls as I've been doing a lot lately (more on that in ~20 hours of gametime!), and I noticed my eyes were itching. At first I thought it was just because I was tired, since I woke up at 7:30 a.m. yesterday and 8:30 a.m. today even after going to bed at 1 a.m., but it continued after I closed my eyes. Then I realized what was happening--softlykarou was preparing dinner, and even though the computer room is at the complete opposite end of the apartment from the kitchen, the entire apartment had become saturated with onion.
The Company of the Onion shall be nine...
Onion. Onion onion onion onion onion onion. Onion onion. Onion onion onion onion onion onion onion onion onion onion onion onion onion onion onion onion onion onion onion onion.
Onion.
Okay, enough of that. This curry was shit. There have been other curries that have basically relied on a single gimmick, like palak gosht with spinach, but I haven't had any major objection to any of them until now. Chicken dopiaza didn't have anything to make it stand out other than the constant taste of onion and giant hunks of onion in the mix. There was barely even any spice other than the slight tang of onion. I could see hot peppers in the sauce, but none of their taste came through at all. It was just onion, onion, all the time onion. It should have been called Onion and chicken curry, which would have been a much more accurate advertisement.
Freshly squeeeeezed, onion juuuuuiice.
Words from the ChefNine onions.
I had. To chop. Nine. Onions.
Click to view Bobbing for onions?
Let me put it this way. In essentially every other curry we've had, even the ones I've been lukewarm on, I've cleaned up my plate and taken the extra from softlykarou's plate because I eat a truly enormous amount of food. This week, everything she didn't eat got thrown out. Much of the onions in my plate got thrown out, and all the giant chunks of onion in the uneaten curry that went to leftovers got thrown out. I'm actually planning on cooking up some carrots and maybe cabbage and other vegetables with the leftovers when I eat them so I can dilute the overpowering onion taste.
Actually, this reminds me of something that happened when I was on my first band trip on my sophomore year of high school. We were going to Washington DC, and somewhere in Ohio, we stopped at a rest stop for lunch. I walked into the McDonald's and ordered a combo, and they asked me if I wanted extra onions. Blindsided by the question (I'd never gotten that question in Illinois), I said yes, and then proceeded to glumly chew through my incredibly oniony cheeseburger. I expect I had a pretty similar expression on my face when I was eating dinner.
Notice giant chunk of onion. Also notice the fresh vegetables prepared by softlykarou, who thought we'd need something to counteract the taste of cooked onions.
I'm not looking forward to eating the leftovers. Usually I can just come home, throw things in the microwave and eat away, and even if it's a curry I've been lukewarm on like bori curry I've usually at least been moderately happy about eating the leftovers because I know I can eat them as soon as I get home. That's not true here. Eating any more chicken dopiaza is going to take some effort in order to make it palatable, and I'm not really looking forward to that. Mostly, I think, because it's starting from a low point and I'm not sure exactly what I can do to make it any better other than mastering the power of the Charcoal March of Spiders Style and transforming its fundamental nature. And I'm not willing to meditate under waterfalls in the wilderness just to eat some curry.
Here's the best summary of my reaction to this curry:
Would I Eat It Again?: If I found a tin of it on a long-dead corpse in the crudely-made bunker that I had taken shelter in from the night, which now swarmed with horrors from the Darkness Between the Stars due to the Earth passing into a long-prophecied stellar alignment and becoming congruent with dimensions too horrific to imagine...maybe.
Do I Prefer It to the Usual Thai Curry?: Let us say that I do not.
What Would I Change?: I would change page 122 of 50 Great Curries of India to a happy page of puppies frolicking in a field of spring flowers, and I would cast the current page into the Outer Darkness, where there shall be wailing and gnashing of teeth. Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob shall be there, and all the righteous shall come there and feast at the feast which shall be prepared for them, but the unworthy ones shall be cast out unto the end of days. Amen.
Currently Drinking to Get the Taste of Onions Out of My Mouth: Koval Honey and Chrysanthemum Liqueur.