How green is you palate?

My earliest memories of greens and particularly, spinach have been of aversion and disgust. Despite Popeye’s evident inclination towards the vegetable, spinach in our house either meant I was ill with fever or had a troubled stomach. It was always eaten with a contorted 10 year old face and under disapproving eyes of a loving mother. Eventually, as I grew older, I simply stopped caring for the thing, until funnily, America re introduced me to the sublime flavors of spinach. A meat over dose finally had me ordering a thin crust vegetable pizza with perhaps all the vegetables available. However, what stood out amongst the incessant cheese and overrated green peppers was spinach. Perhaps it was the bitterness or perhaps it was its introverted taste that bowled me over and had me look at spinach in a new light. This weekend I decided to do the unthinkable and unite two food ingredients, Chicken and Spinach. I had almost religiously avoiding all things vegetarian for a while now and wanted to finally bury the hatchet. Preparation involved me marinating a game hen in yogurt, turmeric, red chili powder, some black pepper and a smattering of kosher salt. Further still, it involved me exploring undiscovered aisles at the super market to locate tender fresh baby spinach. The sheer greenness of Spinach gave me a decidedly bad feeling. How would this marriage work out? I pondered. But gingerly I moved ahead by boiling the spinach in salty water. The crispiness of the vegetable gave way and its volume shrunk considerably to form a dense green lump of mass. This was then drained, washed with cold ice water, and promptly pureed with a handful of chillies. The sheer intensity of green was downright intimidating but I chose to trust the recipe and moved on. Armed with a repertoire of the usual suspect spices (cinnamon, cardamom, cloves, funnel seeds, bay leaves) I had no hesitation in dropping them into a hot oil pan. The clash wasn’t pretty but the explosion of aroma made it all worth. As soon as the oil had finished torturing the spices, the chopped onions poured in creating even more of a ruckus. Of course, Ginger and Garlic, like two courageous best friends also added themselves to the heat. Once the onions softened and browned, I added a few tomatoes. The spices now had stopped quarrelling, mostly because of the bullying by the onions. Slowly I added the tenderized, yogurt laden chicken in the pan and used a spatula to ensure all of the spices and onions found themselves attached to the white meat. I could just imagine the friendly and tolerant nature of chicken working in good harmony and making friends easily with the harder spices. Perhaps this conversation existed… Cinnamon: Hello! I come from India!
Chicken: Hey! I come from the egg. So nice to meet you!
Cinnamon: Same here! Let me introduce to my other colleagues… You get the idea. Soon the chicken picked up aromas and flavor and started toughening its soft personality with many a flavors. It is at this point, I added the star of the show, the pureed spinach. It lathered beautifully over the crisping chicken. A few toss and turns and the sauce pan was decidedly green. I added some water, some salt and started the painfully slow process of cooking the chicken over a low simmer. But I assure you the wait is entirely worth it. When it was done, the chicken broke tenderly in my hands as I started to take a bite. Meanwhile the mild aroma of spinach meandered harmlessly. And the creamy green sauce on white long rice did plenty to convince me that spinach indeed had been neglected much too long by me. Surely then, It’s time to break the shackles. Wander again in to those misty vegetable aisles. And reacquaint myself with all that is green… The actual un embellished recipe