My boyfriend loves curry. If I was made of curry, he would eat me and not be mad at all that I was no longer there to be his companion.
All last quarter when it was his turn to cook he would make curry– and by make I mean he would try very hard to replicate his favorite curry in Savannah (and quite possible the world): Al Salaam Deli.
But alas, he was never satisfied. It was never quite as good and so his curry dishes turned into curry soups and experiments that became less and less appealing each week.
This Christmas, I (hero that I am) bought him a curry cookbook and my mom (hero that she is) gave him a bunch of ingredients from Penzeys Spices.
So we’ve been cooking curry and although I’ve always loved his cooking (cough, not that one time when you just put a giant pile of ground beef mixed with onion and tomato on a plate) it is a major upgrade.
Despite my best intentions to go to bed early, we keep completing our curry around midnight, hungrily feasting and then (I at least) go right into a peaceful food induced coma of sleep.
I look forward to the many onion induced tears, wafting spices and curries to come…I just hope I’ll be able to enjoy them before midnight.