Honeyed Words: The Best Laid Polish Food Turns to Indian

The Best Laid Polish Food Turns to Indian · 19 June 2007

Picture of a Bowl of Red Lentil Curry

It’s my normal pattern to write about a book, then to write about food that was inspired by that book. Sometimes food has a mind of its own and this pattern breaks down a bit.

I’ve been craving Indian food for a few weeks now. I’m not sure where the craving started, but it was egged on by an aborted attempt to eat at the excellent Bollywood Café and then by a truly horrible B-rate movie The Mistress of Spices based on the book of the same name by Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni

I’ll say two good things about the movie. It had a beautiful setting, and it made me hungry. The Mistress of Spices, Tilo, had a lovely shop, stocked with herbs and plants and rich wooden shelves laden with all sorts of gleaming jars of spices which invited the viewer into the world of Indian cooking and left them salivating.

The movie is billed as a romance. I’m normally very forgiving of the romance genre but this movie bored me. The cinematic effect of having half the movie narrated by the main character made you feel disconnected from the action. There are many other movies that have been able to showcase a character’s inner conflicts without resorting to extensive narration. While narration can be effective in a book, over narration really killed the pace of this movie.

Then there’s the conflict, which I thought was constructed at best. As a Mistress of Spices, one must follow the rules.

You must not use the magic of the spices for your own gain. This is pretty standard fare for magical powers, and a perfectly reasonable rule. The idea of karmic consequences if you use your own powers to make your life better is a theme that makes for good “what if” scenarios.
You may not leave the spice shop. Given that this movie was set in modern day San Francisco, I found this rule far-fetched. How is one supposed to get food, spice supplies, or medical care? And why wouldn’t you be allowed to leave the shop? The idea of vigilance is presented as a possible answer, but it’s perfectly possible to be dedicated to a cause without being cloistered. Besides, part of the mission of the Mistresses of Spices is to help people, even heal them. Wouldn’t it be better for that mission if a Mistress could visit the ailing?
You may not touch the skin of another person. This is the one that seems most constructed to set up the conflict. While it may have been the author’s intent that this rule lead to asceticism or abstinence as a keeper of the spices, the film chose to implement it as a literal rule. No skin on skin contact at all. No shaking hands. Nothing. The presentation of Tilo constantly making everyday transactions awkward in order to avoid the slightest touch seemed artificial.

Given my already tenuous acceptance of the rule structure, it didn’t help that there were several scenes that flashed back to Tilo’s mentor, a very old Indian woman from a deserted spice island paradise who occasionally yelled at the viewer, “No leaving the shop!” By this time, my opinion of the movie was such that I viewed these interludes as more comedic than dramatic.

The conflict of course is the love story. Tilo is considering breaking the rules for love; however, the characters hardly seemed attracted to each other. Again, I don’t ask for much in terms of a reason for attraction in a romance, but at least make me feel like the attraction exists. I felt more sparks fly between the friendly neighborhood taxi driver and Tilo than the actual romantic interest. When Tilo seems more upset by the idea that her beloved spice plants are wilting than she does when she believes the love interest isn’t that interested, it makes it hard to understand why she doesn’t just forget about the whole idea of love and go back to her true calling, the spices.

By the end of the movie, I didn’t even care and I was supposed to be planning Polish food. But I was hungry and the red lentils that I had bought a few weeks ago were calling, much like the lure of the spices. However, unlike the Mistress of Spices, I know when rules are made to be broken, and gave in to the temptations of my stomach, shelving the Polish food until next time. Instead, I whipped up this very easy lentil dish, which should quash my Indian craving (at least for this week) and managed not to enrage the bowl of spices pictured below.

Picture of a Bowl of Mixed Indian Spices

Red Lentil Curry

Adapted from allrecipes

2 cups red lentils
1 large onion, diced
1 Tbsp vegetable oil
2 Tbsp curry paste (I used mild and the dish was still quite spicy)
1 Tbsp curry powder
1 tsp each: ground turmeric, ground cumin, chili powder, salt, sugar, minced garlic, minced ginger root
14.25 oz can of diced tomatoes (I used fire roasted)

Method:

Put the lentils in a strainer and wash them in cold water until the water runs clear (you can tell this is done when the water stops “bubbling” like there is soap on the lentils).

Place the lentils in a pot and cover with water, then add one more cup of water. A wide bottom pot is useful, as it will allow the lentils to cook more evenly and avoid raw lentils in the center of the pot.

Bring water to a boil, then reduce heat to simmer.

Heat vegetable oil in a large skillet, then add the onions. Cook on medium heat until onions are tender.

While lentils are simmering and onions are cooking, combine the curry paste, curry powder, and all remaining spices in a small bowl. Mix well.

Once onions are cooked, stir in the spice mixture, then once combined add the tomatoes.

Simmer until the lentils are tender, then drain lentils if necessary and mix lentils into the curried tomato base. If any lentils need additional cooking time, you can add a bit of water to the mix and leave it to simmer a few minutes.

Serve warm.

Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni, Curry, Fantasy, Indian Food, Lentil, Magic Realism, Romance, Tomato, Vegan, Vegetarian, The Mistress of Spices