You know that you’re off to a good start when before you start cooking you ask your flatmate to take a series of ‘Kelis ready’ cooking snaps. Not really sure who I thought I was as I stepped into the kitchen, but there you go.
This is another riot of a post but before I dive in, I feel the need to explain that this was the day after a long weekend in Amsterdam and that I wasn’t of sound mind.
This recipe admittedly is not something I would consider a go to. I’m all about the meat. Yet when asked to bring in a dish for a colleague’s leaving buffet – a colleague who is basically a male version of Gwyneth Paltrow – you kinda have to turn out the goods. So after some reeeeally awkward posing in front of my rough as fuck flatmate (we both dam’ed it pretty hard) I began my veggie adventure.
Kelis has banged out a nice and simple non offensive recipe and it looked like a straight in and out job and I could go back to drooling on the couch with whatever film/ TV show I’ve watched for the hundredth time. That is of course, if you remember to add flour…
After chopping (or slicing ?) onions for what seemed like an eternity I was finally really to play with my flatmates food processor and get turnt.
The blending went fine thanks. Took a bit longer than I thought and I cannot describe what the noise did to my head in its post ‘Dam condition but so far so good.
Similarly to the previous orange chilli chicken of chicken station fame, I was to fry the fritters in batches for 4 mins or so and that would be me!
So cocky as ever I chucked in several and turned my back to start cleaning and regret the ‘Kelis ready’ snap that made it to Instagram.
After the 4 mins had passed I turned back around, took the pan off the heat and was ready to scoop. Only there was nothing to scoop…
‘I must have left them in too long’ I thought to myself as I threw in several more. Yeah, cause fritters ‘melt’ into nothing if left too long. That’s a thing. After a more carefully timed 4 mins my heart sank as the same thing happened again. Close to tears (I was veeery tired) I swapped the pan for a shallower one thinking that would help but no.
Fighting back tears, I then put the mix back into the food processor with more chick peas to ‘thicken it up’ and blended it into a better, smoother paste only for them to again melt in front of my face.
The flatmate then materialised in the kitchen like Liv Tyler at Weathertop to offer council and emotional support. After watching my method he suggested that maybe the oil wasn’t hot enough? Without having the means to find this out and not taking up my suggestion of throwing the oil on his face (IS THIS HOT ENOUGH?!) he turned his elegant gaze to Kelis. ‘How much flour did you use?’ he asked. ‘Oh none yet – that’s for the yogurt'(what?) ‘You sure?’ he politely asked. I responded without blinking ‘would that be it?’ ‘Yeah. That would be it’ he answered as he spun around and graciously left the kitchen.
So flour! Flour was what was missing.
After that it was pure grand like! The fritters came out well. Well some of them did.
After that shit storm the yoghurt sauce was a breeze and I celebrated by going back to bed to pass out while watching ‘The Last of the Mohicans’.
The next day I offered them up to the office were they went down a treat. I only got the one pic of the Fritters/ Sauce combo –
I really wasn’t OK.
Ross
Cooking with Kelis 