An Anglo-Indian-Canadian Curry
by Terry Jones
I was born in India in the dying days of the British Raj, of British parents.
My father’s parents both died in the great flu epidemic of 1919, but his father’s birth certificate listed the old man as “European”. My mother’s roots in India go back much further. Her ancestor went out to India as a Colonel in the army of the British East India Company, long before India was a British colony. Since then, according to family lore, the family had remained British, eschewing intermarriage with the natives -- no “touch of the tar” for us. Problem: the complexion of various family members ranged from English “pasty”, through “heavy tan” to very definitely “swarthy”. No mere “touch” but simply “lashings of tar”.
My attempts at tracing my roots foundered on the fact that I did not know the right questions to pose to the custodians of family history, my mother and my aunt. But eventually, by comparing loose ends and putting two and two together I uncovered “our dreadful secret”. My mother’s first ancestor to go to India was a Scotsman named Hay – he had contracted a local marriage or, horrors of horrors, a “liaison” with a local lady. And from their lusty loins the whole of my family’s lineage had sprung. We were Anglo-Indian to the core.
In India in 1945 this fact constituted a definite problem. The British Government, with the encouragement of Gandhi and other nationalists, was organizing its withdrawal from India to allow for subsequent independence.
But what arrangements were being put in place for Anglo-Indians? We lived a privileged life, with fleets of servants, viewed by the natives as being part of the ruling class. But if we were not “pukka” British but mere half-breeds, what would happen to us when the British left?
My uncle worked for Sir Stafford Cripps, who had been put in charge of administrative arrangements of the British withdrawal. According to him there were no special arrangements being made for the Anglo-Indian. “The Indians will take care of them”. So uncle reported back to the family that there was no future for us in an independent India.
That is why my family left India on the last British troop ship to leave after the war, a ship bound for Scotland, and we settled in Edinburgh. My poor mother. At the age of 35 she had never cooked in her life; she had servants to do that, and now after a life filled with delicious, spicy Indian foods, she found herself in the land of oatmeal and haggis. How to maintain our spice threshold? Fortunately for us she was an extraordinary woman and following the directions of her mother’s hand-written recipe books, and with memories of Indian spices singing on her palate, she became a fabulous cook of Indian delicacies. There follows her basic recipe for beef curry, which I have adapted for use in Canada - beef is not eaten in Hindu India.
Ingredients
Meat - 1pound stewing beef cut up in bite-size pieces
1 large onion,
Lots of garlic (at least three cloves)
One inch of peeled fresh ginger - finely dice all three and mix
Spices:
2 heaping tablespoons of ground coriander
1 heaping tablespoon of paprika
1 heaping tablespoon of cumin
1 level tablespoon of turmeric
1 level tablespoon of ground mustard
add cayenne to taste – this spice provides heat and should be used carefully
1 teaspoon of salt.
Mix spices thoroughly and make into a thick paste by adding water. This paste is called a masala. Its make-up will vary in each different curry.
Cooking
- Fry mixture of onion/garlic/ginger in about 3 tablespoons of oil (I use olive oil) until it is “singing” and onions are brown.
- Lower heat and add masala. Note: It is essential to fry spices to cook them, otherwise curry will taste of raw spices, and result in indigestion. I let masala simmer for 5 minutes.
- When masala is cooked, add meat, coat thoroughly with masala and simmer slowly and cover until meat is cooked. At this point the air will be redolent of the scent of spices. Lower heat and let simmer for as long as possible.
- The oil/fat will rise to the top and the curry will take on a red colour.
- Skim off fat and serve over rice or with chappatties. DELICIOUS!
Serves two, but with the addition of dhal and rice, and a vegetable, it is an adequate meal for four.
***Terry Jones is a retired Canadian diplomat who travelled the world; saw the light and settled in Victoria, where he writes poetry on the human condition.
