Curry Chicken

This is so quick that you won’t believe how tasty it is.

Melt five tablespoons of Simply Ghee in a skillet. (Keep the ghee out on the counter in case you need to add more later.) Keep the stovetop heat on low.

Mix 1/8 cup of curry powder with two tablespoons of salt in a small bowl. With a very sharp knife (and the requisite amount of caution and skill), slice one pound of chicken breast into small pieces, each about twice what you would consider bite-sized. Roll each chicken piece in the curry-and-salt mixture until it is completely coated, then place it in the skillet. Cook the chicken until all the pieces are completely cooked; be careful not to overcook them or burn them. Feel free to add ghee to the skillet, as needed. Serve with maple syrup for dipping and a side dish or fruit.


Tonight, we went out to dinner, to one of my three favorite restaurants in our area: Alando, a Kenyan place with amazing food at very reasonable prices. My daughter and I split a cardamom chicken entree (complete with lovely soft rice and shredded cabbage), and of course we also ordered a plate of bhajia. Bhajia is an amazing side dish that is essentially fried potatoes, but is so much more. The potatoes are dipped in a perfectly seasoned batter of chickpea flour (or something similar), and then fried in canola (or another vegetable) oil. I’ve tried to make them in the past, but that was before the deep fryer entered our kitchen (thanks, Mom and Dad!). I think I might try again, because I can’t go out to eat every time I get a craving for bhajia, but I am not quite sure of the seasonings. Anyone with Kenyan (or Indian — I think the two cuisines have a lot of similarities, and for all I know, bhajia originated in India) heritage, please feel free to post a comment with seasoning suggestions. I know there’s turmeric (because bhajia has a yellow tinge, but doesn’t taste like saffron), onion (because you can taste it), cumin (again, you can taste it), and salt. There may be a bit of something spicy, but it’s subtle enough that my anti-spicy daughter doesn’t notice / doesn’t care.