Indian Keema

In addition to being a brilliant economist who teaches game theory (and other economic-y and not-so-economic-y things) at the Virginia Military Institute, my friend Atin is one of the best cooks I’ve ever met. He’s the kind of guy who can improvise and come up with something so amazing you can’t believe he didn’t steal it from Julia Childs (I’m thinking, in particular, of a roast beef spiked with fennel he served us once at a post-Christmas dinner). The funny thing about it is that Atin spent most of his childhood traveling the Indian on a merchant marine ship with his father and a wayward uncle—hardly, one would think the kind of setting that makes for great culinary skills.

What recipes Atin does know—including this one—were taught to him by his west Bengali grandmother during intermittent shore leaves. In other words, this is real Indian cooking. Ellen, my wife who’d like to be a vegetarian and who really doesn’t like the idea of eating baby sheep, looooooooves this dish.

A few notes, just to make life easier:

Use basmati rice. This is an Indian dish, for god’s sake.

If you don’t have one already, buy a little electric rice steamer. They’re easy to use, telling you exactly how much water to add, and they have an automatic “heat” mode that kicks in when the rice is done, so you don’t have to worry about burning the stuff.

I’ve suggested preparing 1.5 to 2 cups of rice. That way, if one of the little beaners doesn’t like the keema, they can fill up on starches.

Similarly, if you have kids who don’t like veggies, add another half pound of ground lamb. That way they can pick around the carrots and beans and still get plenty of protein.

Frozen vegetable work fine for this; if you want, though, feel free to use fresh. Just make sure to chop them up small enough.

Atin’s Lamb and Vegetable Keema

Vegetable oil.

1-2 cups uncooked basmati rice. Seriously. Basmati. Nothing else.

1-1.5 lbs ground lamb (beef might work, too)

1 chopped and seeded green pepper (Atin recommends two, but what does he know?)

2 finely chopped red onions

1 15oz. can of tomatoes (drained)

1 bag mixed frozen vegetables (corn, carrots, peas, beans—avoid broccoli, as it’ll end up overcooked)

2 Tablespoons finely chopped ginger

1 TB finely chopped garlic

1 teaspoon turmeric

.5 teaspoons onion seed (If you can't find this, substitute .25 ts onion powder)

.25 teaspoons anise seed

1 TB cumin seeds

1 cinnamon stick, crushed with the ball of your hand or a small hammer

2 cloves

A pinch of cardamom seeds

.5 teaspoons cayenne or paprika

Salt and pepper and sugar to taste

A sprig of cilantro

1. Start your rice cooking.

2. Mash the ginger and garlic together to make a paste. Use a mortar and pestle if you have one; if not, just smash it with a fork (or the small hammer, if you’re feeling frustrated). Set aside.

3. Mix together the rest of the spices, from turmeric down to the cayenne/paprika, in a spice grinder.  Grind until fine, and then set aside.

4. Heat vegetable oil in a wok or large pan. Caramelize the onions on high or medium high.

5. Add the garlic/ginger paste and fry until, in Atin’s words, you get that nice “done” smell.

6. Add the meat and the ground spices. Break up the meat and stir occasionally. Cook until the oil comes out of the meat and starts to glisten. This step is KEY.

7. Add the tomatoes, the green pepper, and the frozen vegetables.

8. Add sugar and salt to taste. Simmer until the vegetables are—again in Atin’s words—“squishy” and begin to disappear into the meat.

9. Serve over rice (Basmati, have I mentioned that?) and garnish with a little chopped cilantro.

Family ratings on a scale of 1-10:

Lucy, who has been known to eat pigeon heads: 10

Will, who’s picky but doesn’t want to hurt my feelings: 7

Ellen, who thought she’d be a vegetarian by now: 106

Jamie, who’s not yet five: toboggan