Weekend leftovers Durban curry

This weekend leftovers Durban curry turns remnants from a weekend roast or braai into a delicious weeknight meal whether chicken, lamb or beef—as I'm doing here—without it tasting like an afterthought. A modern tradition from South Africa's Eastern Seaboard, you can enjoy it anywhere in the world where there are leftovers.

Leftover but not left behind

As we head into that time of year when people will roast, stew or barbecue unusually large birds and joints of meat, this traditional dish is a good way to turn leftovers into more than just a reheated version of the same meal.

Without getting into the more academic post-colonial discourse, it's fair to say that two of South Africa's key port hubs above all others have embraced Asian Diasporan cooking: Cape Town, with its history of Cape Malay cuisine arriving along with the Dutch colonists in the 17th and 18th centuries; and Durban on the east coast, where English-speaking settlers embraced Indian Diasporan cooking from pretty much the time the first Indian labourers arrived to work the sugar cane fields in the mid-19th century.

And, since this is a Durban curry, the latter is of interest here. Durban is known as a port that was a centre for English-speaking British arrivistes and those of British descent. Furthermore, in the "dirty cycle" that was British 19th-century Imperialism, many of the English-speaking white merchants, administrators and venturers who washed up on the sandy beaches of Durban from the 1860s onwards had some connection with India. Some had been stationed there while others had built business connections on the subcontinent. And, even those who had neither been to India nor had direct connections probably still had some awareness of Indian cooking.

A notion of India

Many Indian restaurants that opened in Victorian and Edwardian England were cannily upmarket, turning a tidy profit on the nostalgia of the ruling elite for their time spent in India. Nonetheless, it had a trickle-down effect. Even before Queen Victoria threw a tantrum at her daughter's impertinence to dare become a Kaiserin while she was a mere queen (resulting in a flurry of terrified male politicians rushing to placate the queen that saw Victoria declared Empress of India), British middle-class women were taught to cook various "Indian curries" through recipes published in respectable magazines and successful cookbooks, subtly underpinning British rule of this "jewel in the crown". In other words, by the time indentured Indian workers were arriving in (then) Natal, British publics already had some inkling of Indian cuisine and were in general consensus that it was a good idea.

Fast forward to South Africa about a century later. In Natal, as in many other corners of "the pink bits" in school atlases, British colonials and their descendants continued with British traditions until some shouted out about the emperor's new clothes, ridiculing them for how out of synch they were with times, climate and location.

One such tradition was that of the British Sunday roast; hulking pieces of oven-roasted meat served weekly with roast potatoes, vegetables, gravy and all the trimmings, even if they were likely to make one pass out in the heat.

Nonetheless, they also afford interesting insights into how white South African matriarchs on the Eastern Seaboard embraced local Indian Diasporan cooking. I always assumed this recipe was something developed by my extended family with its love of Asian cooking. I was almost disappointed when my research revealed that recipes uncannily like this one handed down to me by my father were published in English-language South African periodicals aimed at women in the early 1950s. No doubt the Apartheid regime would have frowned upon such "subversive" multiculturalism, which might explain their elision from the popular consciousness. But, scratch the surface and it's clear that some with a brains—and cooking skills—were thinking creatively about what to do with the leftovers of a British Sunday roast on the other end of the world.

These recipes reveal a robust understanding of the spices and ingredients of South African Indian Diasporan cooking. This is no mere act of chucking a little mild Madras-style curry powder and a few sultanas onto chicken as was going on back in Blighty at the time.

Meat me in the middle

If this recipe was developed to make use of the leftovers of a traditional British-style Sunday roast, it can equally be applied to all those popular weekend food "moments" that produce leftover animal protein, such as the famous South African braai or any culture with a penchant for steaks that only a lion might realistically devour in total.

I'm doing this Durban curry with the remnants of roast beef. But, with a couple of simple tweaks, it works equally well with leftover roast chicken or lamb. Or, indeed, with the excess steaks you threw on the braai along with the "healthy" chicken that numerous people demanded, but still opted for the boerewors and lamb sosaties when push came to shove, leaving you with a lot of leftover grilled chicken...

Each requires a slightly different nuance while using the same base curry, but that's also included below.

It all depends...

The problem with leftovers, of course, is that you can never predict just how much will be left over. So, in many ways, this is a recipe that requires a level of flexibility regarding much roast beef (or lamb or chicken) you have. Thus, it's probably no surprise that this is one of those recipes that invariably includes potatoes, the ingredient most often used to stretch things further to feed more mouths in South African Asian dishes.

But, as often confessed, I'm no fan of Durban curry's romance with potatoes and, instead, I prefer to add to the pot with pumpkin or butternut squash. However, if you take this route, reduce the impact of sweeter elements such as a cinnamon stick, a common ingredient in a Durban curry, because there is already a lot of sweetness in this dish, not to mention cinnamon and cassia bark in the masala.

Here, I'm opting for a combination of pumpkin and a few young potatoes, to connect with the tradition.

Equally traditionally, this is meant to be an easy weeknight meal following the grind of the Sunday roast. And, indeed, you can take this approach, cooking it at a higher temperature throughout. But, I think it pays to notably slow down the cooking in the second stage, cooking it on a very low heat, particularly when cooking it with beef leftovers.

Meaty options

I am cooking this curry with leftover roast beef and, indeed, beef is the most common version. But, other roast or braai leftovers work well too with minor tweaks.

• Chicken — substitute the black cardamoms with green and garnish with seedless sultanas or raisins rather than almonds. Add the chicken later in the cooking process in fairly large pieces, since it will flake. Use chicken stock, not beef.

• Lamb — roast lamb also has a tendency to flake, but the meat from chops off the braai not so much, so cut into appropriately sized pieces accordingly. Trim all obvious excess fat to avoid it becoming overly greasy. With lamb, I find adding a generous clutch of chopped fresh mint at the same time as the coriander works really well. Similarly, I garnish it with both flaked almonds and chopped fresh mint. Use lamb or beef stock (yes, really!)

In the spice quantities I'm cooking it here, this is a moderately spicy curry. If you really don't like spicy, reduce the number of chillies and/or mother-in-law masala. Or, substitute half of the mother-in-law masala with a mild Madras curry powder. Conversely, if you love very hot curries, add additional green chillies and/or 1tspn of hot cayenne pepper in the early stages. Remember that potatoes traditionally "cool" fiery curries, so, the more potatoes you use, the more cayenne you will need to add.

This version serves 2 to 3 people (based on approx. 350g of leftover roast beef), depending on your side dishes and condiments. I've intentionally used images from cooking it on two different occasions.

5 top tips to get this recipe right:

• With this recipe, the onions need to be nearing brown before you add the other ingredients. If necessary, add little dashes of the diluted creamed coconut and beef stock to keep the pot moist as they cook down

• Curries (Durban or otherwise) generally do no use stock. However, this recipe does because a) the already cooked meat is added late in the cooking and b) the amount of meat depends on what's leftover. Dilute the creamed coconut together with the stock and resist the temptation to overdo the coconut. In this case, less is more. The coconut is there to enhance, not to dominate

• Treat the garlic and the root ginger as ingredients rather than a spice. Don't use bottled garlic & ginger paste, instead chopping both fairly roughly in a mini-chopper or by hand

• Tinned tomatoes are seldom used in authentic Durban curries. Rather, use very ripe tomatoes, chopped to the point of near-purée. The easiest way to do this is in a mini-chopper or food processor. But, you can also do it the old-fashioned way, chopping with a sharp knife on a surface that captures all of the juices, which you most certainly want in the pot

• Exactly how long you cook the curry after adding the meat will depend on what it is an how it has been cooked. With things like steak that has been cooked on a braai, it is better to cook it on a low heat for longer to ensure it becomes tender, while chicken or lamb that have been roasted tend to flake very quickly when re-cooked. Thus, you need to play it be ear when deciding exactly when to add your particular protein to the curry

DIY mother-in-law masala

To make your own mother-in-law masala, which I strongly recommend, below are what you will need to make it. Frankly, I have no idea what the quantities would be for just one curry. I always make it in larger batches because I use it a lot. Like all curry powders, it stores well. It will remain pungent and aromatic for at least 3 to 4 months if stored in a cool, dry place. It's not that you can't use it for longer, but after that time, the immediacy of the flavours begin to fade and you might as well being using store-bought masala mixes.

Nonetheless, a readymade vacuum-packed version will work just as well.

for the Durban Mother-in-law Masala spice mix

• 3 tbsns cayenne pepper

• 1 tbspn smoked paprika powder e.g. pimentón

• 7 tbspns Kashmiri chilli powder (mild)

• 1 tspn dried chilli flakes (hot)

• 2 tbspsns coriander seeds

• 1 tbspn fennel seeds

• 1 tbspn green cardamom pods

• 1 tspn black mustard seeds

• 1 tspn cumin seeds

• 1 tspn fenugreek seeds

• 1 tspn garlic powder

• 1 tspn ground mace

• 1 tspn ginger powder

• 1 tspn black peppercorns

• ½ tspn grated nutmeg

• 3 dried bay leaves

• 3 tbspns dried curry leaves

• 2 cinnamon sticks

• 1 cassia bark stick ("Chinese cinnamon")

• 2 star anise

• 4 cloves

Preparation method

1. Toast all of the whole spices (i.e. seeds, pods, peppercorns, sticks etc.) in a large dry pan on a medium heat, moving them about frequently to prevent burning

2. You don't need to time it: it's ready when the mustard seeds start to pop. You'll notice! Remove from the heat and allow to cool fully

3. Place all of your toasted elements in the spice grinder first and grind down. Gradually add the finer powders and chilli flakes and blend it all together

4. If you want a much finer powder (which is more traditional with Durban curries), pass it through a sieve. But, I often prefer cooking with the "chunky bits" in; up to you

5. Store in a sealed jar and use until it's gone. It's safe to store in a cool place for years (think about how long those store-bought masalas sit in warehouses) but the immediacy of ground whole spices starts to reduce after about four months

   
   

Shopping list

for the weekend leftovers Durban curry

• Approx. 350g leftover roast beef (or lamb or chicken)

• 3 small onions, (red or brown), halved and sliced

• Approx. 400g small very ripe fresh tomatoes; roughly puréed; not strained

• 1 large sweet red pepper; (or bell pepper), halved vertically, deseeded and sliced

• Approx. ¼ small hard pumpkin; peeled and cut into large pieces

• 2 handfuls of small young potatoes; skin-on, scrubbed, whole or cut in half

• 2 or 3 hot green chillies; sliced vertically and deseeded

• 2 thumbs of root ginger; chopped

• 4 cloves of garlic; chopped

• 4 to 5tbspns sunflower oil

• 4 or 5 whole black cardamom pods; bruised

• 2tbspns mother-in-law masala (see above)

• 2 or 3 dried bay leaves

• 4 whole cloves

• 4 or 5 fresh curry leaves 

• ½ tspn ground mace

• ½tspn turmeric powder

• ½ tspn garam masala

• ½ tspn amchoor (green mango powder)

• 2 or 3 springs of fresh thyme; leaves stripped from the stem

• 2 tspns Demerara sugar (or other coarse brown sugar)

• 2 tspns white wine vinegar

• The juice of 1 fresh lime (or lemon)

• 1 good quality beef stock cube

• 30g creamed coconut

• A generous clutch of fresh coriander; chopped

• Water, as needed

• Salt and pepper, to taste

• 2 handfuls of flaked almonds (for garnish; optional)

sides and condiments

Pick and choose from the following:

• Durban yellow rice or roti—I'm currently in love with Riya's Premium Methi Roti, but plain roti work just as well

• Poppadoms

• "sambals" — to put on the poppadoms or as a condiments. In this case I have opted for finely sliced raw onions with chopped mint and black pepper and tomatoes with coriander, but a more traditional sambal (literally "traditioniel") is finely chopped onion, tomato, cucumber and raw chillies bathed in a little vinegar

• Chutneys, achars and pickles - I've opted for mango chutney and lime pickle, but it's all down to personal preference

  
  

  Cooking method

  
  
  

  

  

  

  

the weekend leftovers Durban curry

1. First dilute your beef stock cube in 500ml of boiling water. Add the creamed coconut to this, Stir until it too dissolves resulting in a cohesive stock mix

2. Heat half of the oil on a medium heat in a pot or kadai with a lid. Once hot, add all of the dry spices except for the turmeric and stir rigorously. When the aromas release, add the onions and green chillies and stir in

3. Sauté gently until the onions are very soft and almost brown. Add a little more oil and dashes of the stock mix to deglaze as necessary. Add the chopped garlic, ginger, turmeric and the remaining oil. Stir in thoroughly

4. After a minute of so, add the red pepper and stir in. Sauté all of the ingredients, stirring regularly and deglazing with dashes of the stock mix, careful to not let the garlic burn

5. Once the red peppers are soft, add the tomatoes, coriander and thyme leaves. Stir in and cook for a minute or so. Add the beef stock and creamed coconut mixture and the dried bay leaves. Stir, bringing to a healthy simmer. Cover and simmer for 10mins

6. Add the pumpkin and potatoes, adding a little water so that they are three quarters submerged. Stir, bringing back to a healthy simmer. Re-cover and simmer for 10mins

7. Stir, reduce to a low heat, and simmer gently for another 15 to 20mins, until reduced by about half. Check whether a fork passes easily through the pumpkin and potatoes (if not, continue to simmer until it does). Only when the pumpkin and potatoes are effectively cooked, add the beef and stir in. Re-cover and simmer for another 10mins

8. Add the brown sugar, vinegar and lime juice and stir in. Re-cover and gently simmer for another 10 to 15mins. When the meat has notably softened and the gravy has thickened, add the curry leaves and amchoor and stir in. NB: you want to add these two ingredients only 5 to 7mins before serving so you will need to use a little intuition. For example, with this roast beef, I probably simmered it on a low heat for an additional 10mins before adding the curry leaves and amchoor. Experience has taught me that you may need even longer is using steak off the braai. Conversely, roast chicken leftovers will cook a lot quicker etc.

9. In the final stages, slightly increase the heat and cook uncovered, gently turning (try to avoid breaking up the pumpkin which will be very soft by now) until the gravy is optimally thick. This is one of those curries where the gravy should be very thick.

10. Cover and rest while you prepare your condiments and side dishes. Then plate, garnishing with a sprinkle of flaked almonds and take to table

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Alternatives

This is dish posited around leftover roast meat. But, it is surprisingly easy to make vegan without any leftovers. Simply add 350g or pumpkin and potatoes to the quantities above in lieu of the meat. Don't use stock, merely the creamed coconut diluted in 500ml of water and generally cook on a lower heat. Otherwise, it's very much the recipe above.

Unless you have a whole leftover lobster or large crabs from the braai (yeah, as if!) pescatarians would be better advised to go straight to the source and opt for a real Durban king prawn curry. But, in the unlikely event that those lobsters are knocking about, add their flaked meat in only the last few minutes. Use vegetable or fish stock instead of the beef and green cardamoms instead of black.

Pairings

This is one of those dishes I almost always cook as a weekday easy meal, so it's usually something I have with iced sparkling water with a dash of lime, a bog standard chilled lager or a coke with ice and slice of lime if I'm doing full-on Durban "beach curry"; nothing fancy.

If going for wine, the beef or lamb versions of this curry are hearty and rather filling and I find myself preferring them with something on the heavier end of "medium" such as a merlot or cabernet sauvignon rather than the lighter Cape pinotages I love with other meat curries, not that I've ever gone down the route of digging out anything particularly notable.

If doing the chicken version, my go-to "curry wine" of a Cape chenin blanc or one of those cheeky Rieslings that aren't too complex work perfectly. This year, it worked surprisingly well with a Collovray & Terrier White Burgundy 2017 chilled a little more than the standard French comfort zone. The almost unexpected woody tones that only kick in where it warms on the palate provide a wonderful balancing act with the spices after the initial tickle of juicy ripe fruits.