Two Villains

Ch. 17- Shrimp Coconut Curry

We had to cancel our plan to visit the Louvre Museum.

I was utterly exhausted, and Sameer was drenched in sweat and dirt from our activities earlier. Since it was a Sunday, there was a good chance the museum would be swarming with tourists and locals.

I was the one who decided to cancel. Our bike riding lesson created memories a thousand times more special than a visit to the Louvre. I mean, the Louvre wasn't going anywhere; I could always visit it in the future.

Sameer seemed to think I canceled the plan because I was upset about him winning our little races. After taking a refreshing shower, he joined me in my suite. My hair was still damp; there was no time to blow dry it.

He looked genuinely surprised when he saw me in a flowing green maxi dress.

Why did he always appear so taken aback every time we met, as though he had never seen me before?

"So, you're not upset with me?" he asked.

"Sameer, you were having the time of your life. Why would I be mad at you? I was delighted to see you so happy," I assured him. His smile was absolutely radiant.

"I had made a lunch reservation at a restaurant right outside the Louvre," he mentioned.

"Cancel it. I'll cook for us," I declared.

"What?" Sameer couldn't believe his ears. I was eager to prepare a meal for him; it was something I excelled at. I smiled and inquired, "Do you have any allergies to shrimp and coconut?"

"No, I love shrimp! How did you know that?" He was astonished.

"I love shrimp too! Let me whip up some shrimp curry, daal, and rice. Is that alright?"

He looked like he might tear up at my offer, his mouth hanging open in awe.

"Yes, more than alright. Would you like me to assist with chopping?" he offered.

"Yes," I replied. 

I was practically dancing with happiness and excitement. Together, we headed to the open kitchen. While I deveined and cleaned the shrimp, he took care of the tomatoes and coriander, chopping them skillfully.

After finishing the mise en place, I heated a pan on the stove, and on another burner, I set some lentils to boil with a pinch of turmeric and a dash of salt. Meanwhile, in a separate pan, I heated enough oil to fry a cup of thinly sliced onions, a spoonful of garlic paste, two cardamom pods, one cinnamon stick, a handful of whole black peppercorns, and a single bay leaf. I added the spices, which included half a teaspoon of red chili powder, a quarter teaspoon of turmeric, half a teaspoon of coriander seed powder, and a fifth of cumin powder, into the sizzling mix. Once the oil began to separate and float on top of the spice mixture, I seasoned it with salt to taste and half a teaspoon of sugar, then added thick slices of one tomato. I stirred the mixture until the tomatoes had cooked down completely, and the rich red oils floated on top of the curry. After a few minutes, Sameer added all the shrimp and fried them gently over low heat. When the shrimp were halfway cooked, I poured in half a can of coconut milk.

The moment the coconut milk touched the hot pan, the open-plan kitchen filled with the incredible aroma of coconut curry. Sameer couldn't contain his excitement and exclaimed, "Oh my God!" He reached for a spoon to taste the uncooked curry, but I quickly slapped his arm.

"Wait!" I cautioned him against sampling the uncooked mixture.

Once the shrimp were fully cooked and the coconut milk had melded perfectly with the gravy, I sprinkled a pinch of Garam masala powder evenly over the dish and added a handful of freshly chopped coriander leaves. Then, I blended the cooked lentils with a hand blender, warmed a small pot of oil, and incorporated some freshly chopped onions, slices of garlic, and five-spice seeds. I fried these aromatic elements and then poured them over my lentil dish, a process known as "Tarka."