Coconut Chicken Curry with Roasted Veggies
Plus: Feeling all the feels as we send Max to summer camp
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Yesterday, we loaded Max plus two giant duffle bags filled with clothes, linens, sunscreen, a travel toothbrush, and far-too-many books onto a bus bound to Jewish summer camp. This is his first summer going to sleep away camp, and while he will only be gone for two weeks, my mind is buzzing with questions:
Did he read the whole bus ride, or did he chat with his seat mates?
Did he get the top or bottom bunk?
Does he already have a million mosquito bites?
Did he try the baked ziti that the dining hall always serves the first night of camp?
Did he see the stars before bed?
Did he feel lonely or uncertain as he fell asleep?
Will he learn to be a confident swimmer?
Will he sing around the campfire with his heart on his sleeve?
Will he form the kind of friendships that last a lifetime?
Will he discover something new about himself? About the world?
Can he feel our love from 65 miles away?
Is he worried that he won’t fit in?
Does he have a gut feeling that he might just be in the right place?
The first time I left the house without Max after he was born, he was about 2 months old. Yoshie was playing a show at the Village Vanguard, so I pulled my exhausted, postpartum self together enough to put on real pants and walk out the door. I made it about half a block toward the subway before the guttural sobs began. In those two months of cluster feeds and sleepless nights, spiraling anxiety and unimaginable love, the world had completely shifted under my feet. I would have to learn to walk in it all over again.
I remember another time, when I left 5-year old Max at my in-laws’ for a few days while I flew to Warsaw for a Jewish food festival. (Yoshie had a simultaneous tour abroad and Beatrice, who at 9 months old was still nursing, came with me.) Max wasn’t a tiny, fragile infant anymore. I knew he was safe, in loving care, and going to have a great time with his grandparents. But as I kissed him goodbye and strapped Bea into her carseat en route to the airport, my heart shattered anyway.
This time around it was Max, who is now just shy of 9, who did the walking away. In the weeks leading up to camp, he mostly expressed excitement. But over the last few days, his nerves—and his own list of what ifs—caught up to him a bit. Right before he boarded the bus, I told him that I hoped he said “yes” to as many new experiences as possible. “You are going to be a different kid after these two weeks,” I said. “You will have memories that belong just to you.”
He crumpled into me and Yoshie for a moment. Then he turned, shifted his backpack, and walked up the bus steps. What bravery it takes to allow ourselves to try something new—to walk forward with uncertainty and hope we are headed in the right direction.
I’m so proud of Max’s brave heart. Saying goodbye when we drop him off at college in a decade or so is going to be a doozy!
Coconut Chicken Curry with Roasted Veggies
For his last pre-camp dinner, Max requested chicken, roasted broccoli, and rice. I was not surprised—if the kid has a desert island dinner, this is it.
But holy heaven, I am *so bored* of making chicken, broccoli, and rice! So this week, Coconut Chicken Curry with Roasted Veggies came to the rescue. Chicken curries made with coconut milk (to keep them dairy free, and therefore kosher) are a staple Shabbat dinner dish for the Bene Israel Jews, who hail from Mumbai and make up India’s largest Jewish community.
As Esther David writes in her wonderful book Bene Appétit: The Cuisine of Indian Jews, “Some two thousand years ago, on their arrival in India, the Jews must have realized that coconut milk was the perfect substitute for dairy products. Rarely will you find a Bene Israel home that does not have coconut, lemon, tamarind, and saffron in the kitchen, all of which are commonly added to their curries.”
My take on Indian-Jewish chicken curry is hardly traditional, but it pays homage to the stunning breadth and reach of global Jewish cuisine. And it is absolutely delicious.
To make it, I first set aside a couple of thin-sliced chicken breasts to pan fry for Max. (No sauce, yada yada yada). I cut the rest of the chicken into 1-inch pieces and browned them alongside garlic, fresh ginger, tomato paste, and a bevy of spices before adding chicken broth and coconut milk to create a fragrant sauce.
Meanwhile, I separately roasted a sheet pan of broccoli and tiny new potatoes in the oven until they were golden and tender. I scooped a generous portion of the broccoli and a couple potatoes onto Max’s plate, then folded the remainder into the curry. Roasting the vegetables separately helped them caramelize and hold their shape better than if I had sauteed them in the frying pan. Meanwhile, Max got his favorite meal and, without significantly more effort, Yoshie and I enjoyed a full-flavored, mop-the-plate-clean dinner too. (Beatrice, who has no interest in any of these foods, enjoyed her own desert island dinner: mac and cheese.)
The richly flavored curry (or “gravy” as I often see it called on Indian-American restaurant menus) is endlessly adaptable. It would work beautifully with a number of other roasted vegetables—anything from bell pepper, green beans, and eggplant to cauliflower and hearty sweet potatoes. It would also make a fitting home for that Tupperware of leftover roasted vegetables you have lying around in the fridge, upcycling them into something new and special. (Tamar Adler would be proud.)
Let me know if you make this curry, and what personal spin you put on it.
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Coconut Chicken Curry with Roasted Veggies
Serve this coconut chicken curry with steamed basmati rice.
Serves 4 to 6
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