Black chicken and green rice: Cynthia Shanmugalingam's recipes for a Sri Lankan summer barbecue
Fragrant with spices, cooked in coconut milk and with a grassy, fresh taste from the greens, this rice is very quick and easy, and perfect with the citrussy, tomato sambol that you find all over the island.
Prep 10 minCook 40 minServes 4
For the rice50g spinach, washed15g fresh coriander, washed2½cm piece fresh root ginger, peeled2 garlic cloves, peeled250g white rice
25g salted butter
3 green cardamom pods, gently crushed5 black peppercorns150ml coconut milk
2 tsp salt
For the sambol1 large ripe tomato, cut into 10-12 wedges½ large red onion, peeled and finely sliced1-2 green finger chillies, finely sliced, or to taste2 limes
1 tsp salt, to taste1 tbsp coconut oil, or neutral oil
Put the spinach, coriander, ginger and garlic in a small blender or food processor, and blitz to a smooth paste – you want all the fibres to break down, so you may need to add a splash of water to help things along.
Put the rice in a fine-meshed strainer and rinse under cold running water for about a minute, until the water runs mostly clear (this helps remove any surface starch, so the grains will be fluffy and separate when cooked). Leave the rice to drain.
Melt the butter in a medium-sized pan on a medium heat, then add the cardamom and black peppercorns and cook on a low heat for a minute or two – the spices should turn fragrant and start to sizzle slightly, but the butter should not be browned.
Stir the washed rice and blended greens into the butter, then pour in the coconut milk, salt and 300ml water, and bring to a boil. Turn down to a low simmer, cover and cook for 17-20 minutes, until the rice is cooked through and has absorbed all the liquid; stir occasionally to prevent sticking. Once the rice is cooked, turn off the heat and leave covered to keep warm while you make the sambol.
In a bowl, combine the tomato, red onion and green chilli. Season with lime juice, salt and oil, then taste and add more salt if need be. Mix well, making sure to break up the onion slices.
To assemble the dish, spread the rice over a large platter. Spoon some sambol over some of the rice, put the rest in a bowl to the side and serve.
Prep 15 minMarinade 2 hr+Cook 1 hr 15 minServes 4
For the black spice mix1 tsp cumin seeds
1 tsp fennel seeds
2 tsp black peppercorns
1 stick cinnamon
1 tsp cardamom seeds
1 tsp mustard seeds
1 tsp fenugreek seeds
1 tsp cloves seeds
2 tsp chilli powder
For the chicken1 large whole chicken (about 1½-2kg)4 tbsp black spice mix (see above and method)1 head garlic, cloves separated and peeled
1 handful curry leaves, fresh, ideally120ml cider vinegar1 tbsp salt
3 large red onions, peeled and cut into wedges3 sticks lemongrass
For the temper100ml coconut oil, or neutral cooking oil½ tbsp mustard seeds
½ tsp cumin seeds
¼ tsp fennel seeds
4-5 fresh curry leaves
½ bunch parsley, finely chopped1 shallot, peeled and finely diced2 garlic cloves, peeled and finely diced 2 tsp cider vinegar
Salt, to taste
Roast all the whole spices for the spice mix (ie, everything bar the chilli powder) in a dry frying pan on a low to medium heat, stirring often, for five minutes, until they smell fragrant. Take off the heat, leave to cool, then tip into a spice grinder or mortar and blitz or grind to a fine powder. Put the powder back in the dry pan and toast on a high heat, stirring constantly, for a minute or two, until it turns dark brown and almost black in colour; this will turn them nutty and almost smoky. Take off the heat, leave to cool completely, then stir in the chilli powder. Store in a clean sealed jar and use within two months.
Turn the chicken breast side down, use kitchen scissors to cut all the way along each side of the backbone, then lift it out and discard (or save for stock). Flip the bird over so it's now breast side up, then press down with the palm of your hand to flatten and spatchcock it.
For the marinade, mix four tablespoons of the black spice mix in a roasting tray with the peeled garlic, curry leaves, vinegar, salt and red onions. Rub this mixture all over the bird, making sure you get it into all the crevices and under the skin, then cover and put in the fridge to marinade for two hours or overnight.
Take the chicken out of the fridge at least half an hour before you want to cook it. Lightly bash the lemongrass stalks, so they smell fragrant.
To barbecue the bird, lay it skin side down over medium-heat coals, put the lemongrass on top, then cover with foil. After 20 minutes, uncover and grill for 20 minutes more, until the skin crisps up and the chicken is cooked through yet juicy – if you have a probe, it should have an internal temperature of 70C. Alternatively, cover and roast in an 200C (180C fan)/390F/gas 6 oven for about 40 minutes, again topped with the lemongrass, until the juices run clear.
Put the chicken to one side to rest for 10 minutes. Meanwhile, make the quick tempered oil. Put the oil in a small pan on a medium heat and, once it's hot, add the mustard seeds and cook for 20 seconds, until they start to pop a little (be careful not to burn them, though). Turn down the heat, add the cumin and fennel seeds, and cook for 30 or so seconds, until fragrant. Tip into a bowl, stir in the curry leaves and leave to cool to warm. Stir the parsley, shallot, garlic and vinegar into the cooled temper, then season to taste.
Carve the chicken, arrange on a platter, dress with the parsley temper and serve.
Cynthia Shanmugalingam is chef/owner of Rambutan, London SE1
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Telegraph
2 hours ago
- Telegraph
Is it time to forgive kamikaze pilots? This documentary thinks so
The idea of Second World War kamikaze pilots as brainwashed fanatics, willingly going to their deaths, is a pervasive one. And there is an element of truth in it, because the Japanese population was certainly taught that this was the ultimate, glorious sacrifice. Teachers drummed into primary school children that these 'divine hawks' were to be revered. Yet Kamikaze: An Untold History (BBC Four), a sombre, Japanese-made film which takes a wholly compassionate view, shows the reality. Ordered to carry out suicide missions on the US fleet, or pressured to volunteer, they had little choice but to accept their task in a society where conformity was everything. Behind the last letters home, in which they told their families that they were proud to be dying for their country, lay a truth that could not be spoken. An elderly lady, remembering the older brother whose first combat mission was also his last, said: 'In the end, he gave up and accepted his fate. That's how he must have felt – that it was inescapable.' While the pilots did feel a special kind of pride, that did not mean they were without fear. They hid that fear in the moments before they went into battle. An airman tasked with escorting the squadron towards their target recalls a 'ghastly atmosphere' in the dormitory the night before a mission, 'but when dawn broke and they went to the airfield, they left that all behind and appeared happy. They went cheerfully. They didn't want others to see any self-doubt or distress.' The 90-minute documentary lays out the facts and figures – close to 4,000 pilots died on kamikaze missions, with an average age of 21, some of them the products of elite naval and military academies, others recent university graduates – and explains the strategy. Japan was losing the war but believed that inflicting as much damage as possible would constitute a late show of strength and secure them more favourable terms. An unconditional surrender would damage the Emperor's position. A pilot remembered his squadron being summoned to a briefing room and given the news. 'The commander said the war situation was so bad that we had to conduct kamikaze attacks. He told us that it was our only chance at victory. At that moment, I thought my life was over. They were asking us to sacrifice our lives.' The stories of the kamikaze pilots are told through letters, photographs and the recollections of their relatives. There are other interviews, conducted at least a decade ago, with pilots who were not selected. Some of these were passed over because they had scored highest on tests, and high command did not want to waste the lives of the brightest. Volunteers were asked to indicate in writing how deeply they wished to be a kamikaze: they could say 'desire', 'strongly desire' or 'negative'. A historian looks over these records, and sees that some wrote 'desire' in the smallest script, a desperate way to indicate their reluctance. But very few said no. A man recalled playing rock, paper, scissors with a fellow pilot for the one kamikaze flight leaving that day. He was disappointed to lose. 'Looking back, I can't believe I volunteered,' he said, 'but at the time I felt trapped. Maybe that's the psychology behind suicide. I was suffocating.' An American survivor of a kamikaze attack, who volunteered for the US Navy shortly after Pearl Harbor, is one of the few non-Japanese interviewees. He was aboard the USS Ommaney Bay when it was attacked off the coast of the Philippines in January 1945. 'I don't have no grudge against nobody. They were ordered to go,' he says of the kamikaze. I'd wager that some other US veterans would have been less forgiving, but this is a film in which all the sympathy lies in one place.
Daily Mail
8 hours ago
- Daily Mail
CHRISTOPHER STEVENS reviews last night's TV: Astonishing reason 4,000 Japanese kamikaze pilots were picked to die during the Second World War
Kamikaze: An Untold History (BBC4) How much do you want to die for your country? Please tick the applicable box: 'Strongly desire', 'Desire', or 'Negative', and hand your application form to the admin officer. Astonishing almost beyond belief, this was the question posed to Japanese air force pilots during World War II, as revealed in Kamikaze: An Untold History. Slightly less surprising, since armies are the same the world over, their answers were largely ignored as officials selected the fliers who would attempt to crash their planes into Allied aircraft carriers and other ships. Instead, kamikaze pilots were chosen according to their exam results. Those with the highest marks were excused suicide duties, since their intellect made them too valuable. The ones with the lowest scores were also not picked, because they had not earned the right to sacrifice themselves. But nearly 4,000 Japanese men, average age 21 and four months, did fly kamikaze missions between October 1944 and August 1945. This grimly fascinating documentary tried to explain the mentality, not only of the pilots who flew to certain death, but of the nation that encouraged them to do it. As Japanese newsreels showed the pilots sharing a solemn ceremonial drink — lemonade, since they had sworn off alcohol — and radio announcers read out the young men's wills, a cult of kamikaze gripped the country. Their self-immolation became a symbol of what was expected from every citizen, and the slogan '100 million kamikaze' was a national catchphrase. The pilots were known as 'war gods' and 'mighty eagles'. 'Your divine battle will be known for eternity,' declared the newsreader on one piece of archive footage. Workers wore white bandanas in their honour. It seems incomprehensible, until we realise that many of the young men didn't want to die at all. They simply felt they had no choice. One man who wasn't picked said he saw a comrade receive his orders to 'volunteer' with horror: 'My parents didn't send me to university to die,' the doomed man howled. Another survivor, Hijikata Toshio, bravely marked his questionnaire 'negative'. He was engaged to be married, and his ambition was to be a maths teacher, he said. 'Taking a bullet from an enemy is one thing but blowing myself up didn't seem right.' Most of the veterans, filmed over several years, were in their 90s. One, an American sailor named Seth Irving who described waves of kamikaze planes divebombing his fleet, was 103. By the end of the war, so many Japanese aircraft had been destroyed that the pilots were sent out in trainer biplanes with explosives strapped to their fuselage. Slow and cumbersome, they were easily shot down. Survival had become a matter of chance. One pilot, Arai Toshio, played rock-paper-scissors with a fellow flier, for the right to die in their last remaining plane. He lost . . . and lived to be 99.
The Guardian
a day ago
- The Guardian
Black chicken and green rice: Cynthia Shanmugalingam's recipes for a Sri Lankan summer barbecue
In the 1990s, my cousin Sri Anna was a senior Sri Lankan policeman. Surprisingly for us, visiting from England, that meant he got a driver, a gun, a nice pad to live in and a team of sensational cooks to dish up various delicacies from wherever he was stationed. In the south, his favourite was black pork curry, and at my restaurant Rambutan we now make a marinade from similar spices for pineapple, beef and, my preference, chicken, before we grill it over coals. To lift it a little, the bird is finished with a quick fragrant oil of tempered spices and parsley (similar to the peppery island herb we call vallarai). You can eat it with or without the cool, green coconut rice and tomato sambol, which is my attempt to recreate a very tasty lunch I had at one of my favourite Colombo spots, Taste of Asia. Fragrant with spices, cooked in coconut milk and with a grassy, fresh taste from the greens, this rice is very quick and easy, and perfect with the citrussy, tomato sambol that you find all over the island. Prep 10 minCook 40 minServes 4 For the rice50g spinach, washed15g fresh coriander, washed2½cm piece fresh root ginger, peeled2 garlic cloves, peeled250g white rice 25g salted butter 3 green cardamom pods, gently crushed5 black peppercorns150ml coconut milk 2 tsp salt For the sambol1 large ripe tomato, cut into 10-12 wedges½ large red onion, peeled and finely sliced1-2 green finger chillies, finely sliced, or to taste2 limes 1 tsp salt, to taste1 tbsp coconut oil, or neutral oil Put the spinach, coriander, ginger and garlic in a small blender or food processor, and blitz to a smooth paste – you want all the fibres to break down, so you may need to add a splash of water to help things along. Put the rice in a fine-meshed strainer and rinse under cold running water for about a minute, until the water runs mostly clear (this helps remove any surface starch, so the grains will be fluffy and separate when cooked). Leave the rice to drain. Melt the butter in a medium-sized pan on a medium heat, then add the cardamom and black peppercorns and cook on a low heat for a minute or two – the spices should turn fragrant and start to sizzle slightly, but the butter should not be browned. Stir the washed rice and blended greens into the butter, then pour in the coconut milk, salt and 300ml water, and bring to a boil. Turn down to a low simmer, cover and cook for 17-20 minutes, until the rice is cooked through and has absorbed all the liquid; stir occasionally to prevent sticking. Once the rice is cooked, turn off the heat and leave covered to keep warm while you make the sambol. In a bowl, combine the tomato, red onion and green chilli. Season with lime juice, salt and oil, then taste and add more salt if need be. Mix well, making sure to break up the onion slices. To assemble the dish, spread the rice over a large platter. Spoon some sambol over some of the rice, put the rest in a bowl to the side and serve. Prep 15 minMarinade 2 hr+Cook 1 hr 15 minServes 4 For the black spice mix1 tsp cumin seeds 1 tsp fennel seeds 2 tsp black peppercorns 1 stick cinnamon 1 tsp cardamom seeds 1 tsp mustard seeds 1 tsp fenugreek seeds 1 tsp cloves seeds 2 tsp chilli powder For the chicken1 large whole chicken (about 1½-2kg)4 tbsp black spice mix (see above and method)1 head garlic, cloves separated and peeled 1 handful curry leaves, fresh, ideally120ml cider vinegar1 tbsp salt 3 large red onions, peeled and cut into wedges3 sticks lemongrass For the temper100ml coconut oil, or neutral cooking oil½ tbsp mustard seeds ½ tsp cumin seeds ¼ tsp fennel seeds 4-5 fresh curry leaves ½ bunch parsley, finely chopped1 shallot, peeled and finely diced2 garlic cloves, peeled and finely diced 2 tsp cider vinegar Salt, to taste Roast all the whole spices for the spice mix (ie, everything bar the chilli powder) in a dry frying pan on a low to medium heat, stirring often, for five minutes, until they smell fragrant. Take off the heat, leave to cool, then tip into a spice grinder or mortar and blitz or grind to a fine powder. Put the powder back in the dry pan and toast on a high heat, stirring constantly, for a minute or two, until it turns dark brown and almost black in colour; this will turn them nutty and almost smoky. Take off the heat, leave to cool completely, then stir in the chilli powder. Store in a clean sealed jar and use within two months. Turn the chicken breast side down, use kitchen scissors to cut all the way along each side of the backbone, then lift it out and discard (or save for stock). Flip the bird over so it's now breast side up, then press down with the palm of your hand to flatten and spatchcock it. For the marinade, mix four tablespoons of the black spice mix in a roasting tray with the peeled garlic, curry leaves, vinegar, salt and red onions. Rub this mixture all over the bird, making sure you get it into all the crevices and under the skin, then cover and put in the fridge to marinade for two hours or overnight. Take the chicken out of the fridge at least half an hour before you want to cook it. Lightly bash the lemongrass stalks, so they smell fragrant. To barbecue the bird, lay it skin side down over medium-heat coals, put the lemongrass on top, then cover with foil. After 20 minutes, uncover and grill for 20 minutes more, until the skin crisps up and the chicken is cooked through yet juicy – if you have a probe, it should have an internal temperature of 70C. Alternatively, cover and roast in an 200C (180C fan)/390F/gas 6 oven for about 40 minutes, again topped with the lemongrass, until the juices run clear. Put the chicken to one side to rest for 10 minutes. Meanwhile, make the quick tempered oil. Put the oil in a small pan on a medium heat and, once it's hot, add the mustard seeds and cook for 20 seconds, until they start to pop a little (be careful not to burn them, though). Turn down the heat, add the cumin and fennel seeds, and cook for 30 or so seconds, until fragrant. Tip into a bowl, stir in the curry leaves and leave to cool to warm. Stir the parsley, shallot, garlic and vinegar into the cooled temper, then season to taste. Carve the chicken, arrange on a platter, dress with the parsley temper and serve. Cynthia Shanmugalingam is chef/owner of Rambutan, London SE1
