VEGETARIAN COOKING: Recipe for apricot and cilantro chutney

Received by Newsfinder from APApr 29, 2005 11:25 Eastern Time * Photo Advisory NY605 By J.M. HIRSCHAssociated Press WriterCONCORD, N.H. (AP) _ Call me the “Chutney Kid.” A few years ago I was introduced to the wonder that is chutney, that chunky, saucy, sort-of-sweet, sort-of-spicy Indian condiment that often includes some combination of fruit and onion. A typical accompaniment to curries, chutney sweetens and cools the heat of the main dish. It also is terrific spread on flatbread, spooned over warm Brie or slathered on grilled tofu. Trouble is, chutney is horribly expensive, at least when you consume it the way I do. No bread, curry or cheese needed. By the spoon suits me just fine, thank you. In a pinch, it’s also nice on curried rice. But at $4 or $5 a small bottle (that’s what, one, maybe two servings?), it’s hard to justify as more than a sometimes treat. After a friend with a similar chutney fixation reported that his wife had scolded him and hidden their chutney to prevent him from downing it so rapidly, I started experimenting. How hard could it be to make? Onions, spices, fruit and vinegar. A snap. I started at my local Indian restaurant, which happens to serve a quite good mango chutney. I envisioned the owner’s grandmother sitting out back lovingly making it in small, careful batches according to a recipe generations old. I would appeal to her desire to pass on her recipe. No doubt her efforts to interest her own grandchildren had failed. Though initially cautious, she eventually would welcome my curiosity and take me on as her apprentice. In time, the cultural divide would dissolve and we would bond like Ralph Macchio and Pat Morita in “The Karate Kid.” I’m not sure how or why, but waxing cars would be involved, and it no doubt would be an important learning experience. Well, it was a nice thought. If there was a kindly old grandmother, I never saw her. The restaurant’s owner was polite, but uninterested in my interest in his chutney. He made some vague reference to pounding tamarind paste and sent me on my way. So much for my magical movie moment. During the next few months I collected a dozen chutney recipes, my typical process for developing a new recipe. I like to study a stack of recipes, pull out consistent and appealing ingredients and methods, then weave them into my own. That was my first mistake. Apparently, there are about 9 billion different chutneys. And unlike, say, apple pie, which can have many variations but generally follows a basic construction, none of the recipes seemed at all like any of the others. Of course, this made sense. Indian cuisine is inherently regional, with marked differences from one region to another. Undeterred, I did my best to cobble together a basic recipe. It was awful. So were batches two, three, four, five and six. Eventually I gave up trying to make my own recipe and used the one that sounded most like the jarred chutneys I enjoy. After I finished gathering the several dozen ingredients called for, including too many I couldn’t pronounce, and whipped up a batch of mango chutney, I dug in. Ugh. Eventually, I gave up entirely, figuring that when I eventually visited India I’d find myself a real grandmother. Cue the exciting movie theme music _ a turn of events was on the horizon. While flipping through the recently released “Best American Side Dishes” (America’s Test Kitchen, 2005, $35), I noticed it offered a simple apricot chutney recipe. Too simple. It called for shallots, dried apricot, a few common seasonings, vinegar and brown sugar. Seemed unlikely to work given that every other recipe I’d tried seemed more like assembling a 10,000-piece jigsaw puzzle than cooking. But it did work. And after I’d tinkered with it, subbing onion for the shallot, upping the apricot count, simplifying the spices and adding cilantro, it not only was great, it was the jarred sauce I’d been looking for. I was in love and I hadn’t even needed to bond with somebody’s grandmother. So what do you do with this? Spread it on flatbreads and sandwiches, much as you would mustard or mayonnaise. Use it as a dip for samosas or any fried food, including onion rings or tempura vegetables. It also is wonderful as a topping for rice. A frequent dinner-at-the-office for me is reheated steamed brown rice topped with some broccoli florets and chutney. Sounds boring, I know, but the chutney puts it way over the top. And don’t forget the cheese. Place a wheel of Brie in a small, ovenproof bowl. Slather chutney over it and cover with foil. Bake in a 350 F oven for 15 minutes, then indulge with bread. This chutney also is great with roasted potatoes, or even tossed with hot pasta. > Apricot and Cilantro Chutney (Start to finish 30 minutes) 1 large yellow onion, cut into quarters 3 to 4 tablespoons pickled jalapeno pepper slices 1 cup loosely packed fresh cilantro leaves 8 ounces dried apricots 1/4 teaspoon ground cloves 4 tablespoons grated fresh ginger 1/3 cup cider vinegar 1/4 cup light brown sugar 1/2 teaspoon salt 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper 1 cup water Place the onion, jalapeno slices and cilantro in the bowl of a food processor and pulse until just diced. Add the apricots and pulse 10 to 15 times, or until well chopped. Transfer the mixture to a medium saucepan. Stir in remaining ingredients and bring to a simmer over a medium flame. Reduce heat to low and cook until liquid is mostly evaporated, about 12 minutes. Chutney should be thick and gooey. Allow to cool to room temperature before serving. Can be refrigerated several weeks