Chicken Curry

This chicken and gravy dish was our comfort food. My father loved to eat leftovers
of this curry for breakfast, scooping up the remaining gravy with slices of French
loaf (baguette).

One of my mother’s trademark specialties was her curry powder which she made
herself. For a brief period, she also made it in large quantities for an instant noodle
manufacturer. The curry powder went into the little sachet found in the noodle packet.
My mother kept large round rattan trays to contain the various dry spice ingredients.
She would first painstakingly inspect the different grains to weed out tiny pebbles and
grit. Then, she would rinse the dry spices and lay them on the rattan trays to dry in the
sun. She would then fry the spices in her large iron wok, in dry heat, until a fragrant
aroma indicated that the spices had ‘bloomed’. The spices were then combined into large
brown paper sacks and taken to the Indian miller for grinding. The powder returned
still warm and highly aromatic. My mother would painstakingly divide the powder into
several plastic bags and vacuum seal each bag to retain the freshness of the powder.

I still have a bottle or two made by her. Along with my wedding cake, my curry
powder occupies a little corner of my refrigerator as a legacy. Years ago, an American
friend passed on a recipe for roasted butternut squash for my baby. The recipe called
for a quarter teaspoon of curry powder and a dash of maple syrup. I added some of my
mother’s curry powder. In a very touching way, I was passing down a small token from
my mother to her grandchild whom she had never met.

When cooking curry, adjust the amount of curry powder added depending on how
spicy you want the dish to be. Also, as with many other Nonya dishes, this curry always
tastes more flavourful the day after cooking.

62  Growing Up in a  Nonya Kitchen ~ Chinese New Year