Dinner at the Dziga House: November 19, 2014
The Dziga House: Linda, Rachel, Niranjan, Lily the Dog, and a Cat that Stayed Hidden.
Location: Capital View, Little Rock, Arkansas.
Menu: Butter Chicken over Rice, Naan, Apple Crisp. Recipe below.
I push the doorbell and hear it ring on the inside for a half-moment before a dog’s bark drowns it out. When Rachel opens the door, I meet Lily, a labrador with a yellow tint to her white fur and a pink tint to her nose. Her toenails click on the hardwood floors as she sniffs all sides of my legs.
In the adjacent den, a woman with long, blonde hair stands up to greet me. Rachel introduces her as her mother. An Indian man holding a wooden spoon peers through the house to see who has arrived, then he steps back toward the stove top. It’s clear he’s responsible for the enticing smell of curry wafting through the house.
“Butter chicken” has got to be the simplest way to describe the dish. Once, I was at a restaurant in Bosnia and I ordered something off the menu called “Steak with egg.” I thought the translator probably just got lazy and what I was actually ordering was something more elaborate. When it came, it was literally a steak with an egg on it. Not even any parsley. Ninja’s butter chicken is not chicken with butter on it. (It’s somewhat ridiculous for me to start a food blog because my palette is hardly refined, as they say. When I eat alone, I eat at buffets, so I’m not going to be able to tell you the precise level of flavor coming out of Ninja’s butter chicken. If you’re looking for that kind of description, you’re just going to have to check out the recipe below and make it for yourself. It will be worth it. But I’m getting ahead of myself.)
While Ninja places some pieces of naan in the oven, Rachel sits at a small table in front of the tiled bar. She thumbs through the latest issue of Rolling Stone, which features a young Bob Dylan on its cover. When the conversation shifts to “Interstellar,” she puts the magazine down and I listen as she and Ninja have the most casually scientifically intelligent conversation I may have ever witnessed. Somewhere between mentions of quantum physics, I think, and the time-space continuum, Rachel pauses and looks at me.
“I don’t want to spoil it for you, if you haven’t seen it,” she says.
I realize I haven’t enough of an understanding of science for whatever she says to actually ruin anything for me.
Lily announces the arrival of Jeff with his dog Jackson. They’ve brought a rice cooker and a thermos full of already-cooked rice. He’s brought a large bottle of pinot grigio, but I decline a glass in favor of a bottle of Shiner. Jeff is a large man in stature and also in personality. His dog is the opposite. Jackson looks to be an Australian shepherd mix, and he’s reach an age where his muscles have deteriorated to the point one side of his head appears concave.
Moments later, Marsha also gets a greeting from Lily. She has short, white hair, and clear frames, which give her a classy look. She carries an apple crisp she’s made.
“There’s no added sugar,” she says.
We all sit comfortably around the table together and discuss Jeff’s upcoming trip to Seattle. It was in the Pacific Northwest that he fell in love with a certain kind of bread. When he researched where it came from, he was astounded to discover it came from Arkansas at Old Mill.
“I went all the way up there to discover something great was made here,” he says.
Jeff founded and still owns Damgoode Pies. He’s made a living by making pizzas with quality ingredients. As much as I love Papa John’s, I can tell when I look at their founder in the kitchen on the commercials that his apron rarely gets dirty. In contrast, I can tell by looking at Jeff totally out of context of a pizza shop, he spends a lot of time in a pizza shop. He’s currently working to open a new store where Boscos used to be. I used to work at Bosco’s so I know exactly what he’s talking about when he discusses walls he’s knocking out. He’s excited about it.
“When you give your life to work, it kind of sucks, but sometimes you get to do some really special things,” he says.
We talk about food and travel nearly exclusively—two things that keep me excited. Rachel is thinking about going to Hellfest in France. Linda had Lizard Pate in the Carribean. Marsha knows a girl who moved to Arkansas to start Farm Girl Meats, where she raises happy animals in the most humane way possible. We talk local, we talk organic, and then we talk about how Ninja puts butter on cheap hamburger buns to dip into his chai tea because it’s the closest thing he has found to taste like something he used to love back in India.
Food has such powerful properties of connection. The generic hamburger buns have connected Ninja to the memory of home. Pizza has connected Jeff to a life of doing something really special. The butter chicken has connected me to the Dziga house.
I have to leave before everyone else, unfortunately. There’s mention of Marsha playing the guitar, and there’s still plenty of wine left. I wish I could stay. I decide a new rule for the blog will be to never schedule anything after a dinner.
Butter Chicken Recipe, as described by Rachel in an email:
Take about 6oz per person chicken, marinate 2-6 hrs before cooking in 2-3 tablespoons of yogurt, 1 tsp of curry, tumeric and chili powder, three thinly sliced cloves of garlic, juice of half a lime and a 1/2 oz thinly sliced ginger.
In a large skillet, saute 4 thinly chopped onions in about a stick or 1/2 cup of butter on med heat until translucent and soft (salt and pepper lightly to pull out moisture and flavor) takes about 10 mins, add 4 chopped tomatoes and a large bell pepper, saute for 5-10 more min.
Ninja uses a season pkg-here is the brand on Amazon, here.
Mix one pkg for about each 16 oz or lb with water as directed, pour over veggies and another 1/2 cup of butter, let cook until 5-10 min then pour all into a blender-blend until smooth. In the same pan add marinated chicken, and some butter for light pan searing. Cook lightly, then add blended curry on top-cover and let simmer until chicken is fully cooked.
In the end, add a 4oz of milk or cream.
No matter where you are, if you want to invite me to dinner, I’d love to come. In return, I’ll do my best to be a good conversationalist and document a small piece of your everyday life. I’m a fun dinner guest, people. Kids love me. I’ll give your pets a lot of attention. If you want to invite your weird uncle over for dinner, too, so he'll stop bugging you, now's the time! I'll talk to him so you don't have to.
I live in Little Rock, Arkansas, but I’ll keep a list and when I’m traveling in your area, I’d love to meet you and your family/roommates/cat and enjoy a home-cooked meal. Email me at gchoate17 (at) outlook [dot] com with the subject line: Dinner at Our House.