My amma’s chicken curry isn’t anything fancy, but it’s the kind of chicken curry you can’t forget. She swears that the first time I had it was when I was a baby. “I gave you a little bit to taste and you didn’t cry,” she says. “Then I knew you could handle some spice.”
Years later, it remains a staple on my mom’s “what should I cook today?” roster. It’s funny though—while I can’t imagine my life without it, it’s not my favourite dish of hers. But it’s the kind of meal that lets you know, even before you see it on the table, that something good is waiting for you.
It’s simple. Just chicken and potatoes. When I ask her why she doesn’t add more to zhuzh it up, she hits me with a “for what?” I suppose that’s what makes home-cooked meals so comforting. Most of the time, it’s just deciding what to eat based on whatever’s in the fridge.
Curry is the perfect medium for that in many Indian families—you can put in whatever you want. Some mums might throw in tomatoes and onions in theirs, and that is what their families will think of as the “perfect chicken curry”. Sure, a cookbook might tell you that chicken curry traditionally comes with a specific set of ingredients you should be using, but with generational cooking, the word “tradition” means something different to everyone.
My mum learned how to cook from her mother and grandmother when she was a teenager. Growing up as the youngest of eight meant that she eventually took on the role of the home cook when all her siblings got married or moved out. She moved to Singapore from Malaysia in her early 20s, and decades later, still wears the badge of a home cook with pride. Mind you, she is a woman who cooks a spread of five dishes, then says it’s “nothing la, very simple one.”
And while you can’t say a restaurant-quality spread is simple, she tries to make sure her recipes are. The make-up of her curry isn’t too complicated. Most Indian curries start with the same solid base of spices: curry and bay leaves, cinnamon sticks, cloves, cardamom, and fennel seeds. Then comes her fragrant, home-blended ginger-garlic paste, which the potatoes and mixed chicken pieces can soak up. As for her “secret ingredients” (but really, she’s more than happy to share), it’s adding final touches with some briyani masala to give the gravy extra depth and a dash of chicken stock powder for that last bit of umami.
During the height of COVID-19 in 2020, my mom retired from her job as a preschool teacher and decided to start a cooking channel on YouTube to pass the time. Five years and some 200+ recipes later, she’s amassed a community of 6,500 followers, with some loyal fans to boot. Her favourite dishes to cook go from classic Malaysian fare to fusion Thai food she comes up with herself.
Beyond it just being a hobby, she hopes her channel will teach young people how to cook, even if it’s just one person. “It’s important for the younger generation to learn. When we are gone, where will these recipes go?” she likes to say. And it’s true.
Now, I haven’t mastered the art of her chicken curry (or rolodex of cross-cuisine dishes) just yet, but I do feel the pinch as the reality of her ageing sinks in. One day, I hope to be even just half the cook she’s always been, with hands that aren’t afraid of an open fire and a heart that pours itself into everything it does.
As with most of the older generation, my amma is very much a follower of the “aga aga” code of conduct, because “everything just can eyeball one”. However, let’s not forget that she’s also a value-adding YouTuber, so here’s her written recipe for anyone who’d like to give it a go.
While you’re here, explore more of our heritage food recipes! For a similar story centred on an asam pedas ikan pari recipe, read our aunt’s asam pedas feature. Interested in ngoh hiang? Read our ah ma’s ngoh hiang feature.
Photos taken by Nabila Malek.
This article was written by Ra Krishnan.