Spinach, Egg and Potato Curry
Mark Diacono
LATIN NAME
Spinach: Spinacia oleracea. Perpetual spinach: Beta vulgaris var.cicla
SEASONALITY
All year round
MORE RECIPES
Spiced spinach with nutmeg; Coconut, spinach and apple sambal; Spear-leaved orache bhajis; Chanterelle and chard bruschetta; Mozzarella with nettles and lentils; Henakopita with garam masala and eggs; Cockle and chard rarebit; Cucumber, smoked mackerel and dill salad; Velvet crab curry; Sea beet and smoked pollack pasties; Lamb, labneh and spinach salad; Kiwi, spinach and avocado smoothie
Spinach crops up in seemingly every cuisine, from classic Mediterranean to Chinese, Indian and Middle Eastern. It is both characterful and individual, with its ‘green-tasting’, almost metallic bite, yet combines easily with strong, salty ingredients such as bacon and anchovies, chorizo or other highly flavoured meats. It wakes up (and is beautifully moderated by) the big carbs, such as rice, potatoes and pasta. Perhaps best of all, spinach loves spices and seasonings and takes to them without being drowned out. Aloo gobi (spinach and cauliflower), saag aloo (spinach and potato) and spinach and chickpea curry are three favourites.
This delicate leaf, like so many of our now-familiar foods, is well travelled. It originated in the East. The Persians were cultivating it by the fourth century, and the Chinese by the seventh. The Moors brought it with them when they invaded Spain in the eighth century and it was probably from here that the leaf found its way to Britain. In a simple dish, ‘spynoches yfryed’, it made an appearance in the fourteenth century The Forme of Cury, the earliest known English cookbook. Gradually, spinach came to dominate over the wild, wiltable greens in use in earlier times. It was cooked into soups, served raw in salads and even made into sweet tarts. The term ‘Florentine’ to describe dishes containing spinach probably reflects the fact that Florence-born Catherine de Medici, Queen of France from 1547 until 1559, was a big fan.
We still love spinach for its versatility and the speed with which it can be cooked but, of course, it also has a cast-iron reputation, if you’ll excuse the pun, as a source of nutrients. It provides vitamins K, A, C, B12 and folic acid, as well as antioxidants and fibre. But the idea of it being rammed with iron needs qualifying: it does contain plenty of the mineral, but this is of the ‘non-haem’ sort, which is less easily absorbed than iron from animal products. Spinach is also rich in oxalic acid (which gives it that metallic edge) and this slows iron absorption.
You might say that spinach’s only other downside is its incredible wiltability: a heap will vanish into a thimbleful when cooked. But I like to think of this as nature’s way of getting us to eat more of it. That super-shrinking nature is explained by spinach’s high water content. So what you don’t want to add, when cooking it, is more water. With stir-fries, pasta sauces or simple side dishes, the leaves can be added straight to a hot pan, with other ingredients, and allowed to collapse (which they’ll quickly do).
If your spinach needs to be cooked before you add it to a dish (for a quiche filling, say), here’s the technique: drop it, with just the residual water that clings to it after washing, into a capacious pan (it’s often easiest to cook it in batches). Cover and place over a moderate heat, where it will quickly wilt, then tip into a colander and allow to cool. Now grab the leafy heap with your hands and squeeze out as much water as you can. It will seem to reduce down to almost nothing, but don’t panic: its flavour, character and colour are now concentrated, and it won’t make your soufflé soggy.
As well as spices and seasoning, spinach loves creaminess and dairy products. For the comforting River Cottage classic creamed spinach, wilt 500g spinach as above, then chop and combine with a rich béchamel sauce (350ml bay- and onion-infused milk cooked into a roux made with 50g butter and 25g flour). The addition of a generous grating of nutmeg, as so often with spinach, lifts and defines the dish.
Spinach has an affinity with cheese too, especially salty cheeses. Whether in a tart, salad or held within folds of filo in the classic Greek spanakopita, spinach and feta is a marriage made in heaven, yet milder cheeses are also happily partnered. In ravioli, cannelloni or even lasagne, spinach and ricotta is a delicious, classic pasta filling.
And for something out of the every day, try Oysters Rockefeller. This extravagance – oysters topped with buttery, garlicky, wilted spinach, Pernod and breadcrumbs then grilled – should be enjoyed in the sunshine with slightly too much dry white wine.
In most shops these days, spinach is sold in its young form, as ‘baby leaf’. The appeal of this is that it can be used raw or, if you want to cook it, with no preparation. More mature spinach leaves – for which you will probably need a farm shop, good greengrocer or veg box scheme – do have the edge on flavour and body, however. All you need to do is tear out the tougher stalks – the work of moments. Always wash spinach very thoroughly before use because it has a tendency to harbour grit.
Raw spinach is one of my most-used salad leaves. Picked small, young and delicate, it adds a delicious, minerally edge to a leafy salad. If you grow your own, it takes very well to a cut-and-come-again approach, which will keep you in small leaves pretty much all year round. It’s easy to grow. Sow directly into the ground from March until autumn – a 6-weekly sowing will mean you never run out. Space the seeds at 20cm intervals in rows 30cm apart, water little and often to prevent bolting. Harvest regularly, cutting or picking a few centimetres above ground to encourage replacement leaves to grow, and reduce the chances of bolting. ‘Dominant’ and ‘Bordeaux’ are the best varieties for growing through the cold months, and ‘Matador’ seems to be slowest to bolt through the summer than most. New Zealand spinach is a hardy, beautiful spinach worth trying – it stands winter cold well and has delicate leaves even when large.
There is also perpetual spinach, which is actually a form of green-stemmed chard. Also incredibly easy to grow, all year round, this is a real veg-patch winner and a must if you love your leaves.
Coconut milk adds an appealing edge of sweetness to this curry, mellowing the spiciness. In place of the spinach, you can use tender leaves from wild greens such as sea beet, spear-leaved orache or fat hen. If you prefer less heat, remove the seeds and membrane from the chillies. Serves 6
3 tbsp rapeseed oil
2 large onions, halved and finely sliced
4 garlic cloves, finely sliced
2–3 medium-hot green chillies, sliced
40g root ginger, finely chopped
2 tbsp korma or other curry powder
400ml coconut milk
400ml vegetable stock
6 eggs
500g cooked small waxy or salad potatoes, halved
400g spinach, any tough stems removed, large leaves shredded
Juice of 1 small lemon
A large handful of coriander, stalks removed, leaves chopped
30g flaked almonds, toasted
Sea salt and black pepper
Heat the oil in a large saucepan over a medium heat. Add the onions with a pinch of salt and sweat for about 10–12 minutes until soft. Add the garlic, chillies and ginger and fry for another couple of minutes. Stir in the curry powder and cook for a minute, then add the coconut milk and stock. Season with some salt and pepper and simmer for 15 minutes.
Meanwhile, put the eggs in a pan of boiling water, bring back to a simmer and cook for 5 minutes. Drain, put them in a bowl of cold water for a couple of minutes, then peel.
Add the eggs, cooked potatoes and spinach to the curry. Put the lid on the pan and cook for 2 minutes, to encourage the spinach to wilt, then uncover and simmer gently for a further 5 minutes. Stir in the lemon juice and half of the chopped coriander. Taste and add more salt and pepper if necessary.
Scatter the rest of the coriander and the flaked almonds over the curry and serve with basmati rice.