I live in Ladywell, in south-east London, in a modern building nestled in a little close. My wife, Laura, is British, but I’m originally from the midwest, Wisconsin, and when I left for college as a teenager, my mom sent me off with this family recipe book. It’s full of Anderson favourites, such as rumaki (a faux-Polynesian recipe of pineapple, chicken livers or scallops marinated in soy sauce and port, then wrapped in bacon and grilled) and tuna stroganoff – a staple in my lean years! When there’s little in the house, I refer back to it for inspiration.
I’d always been fascinated by Japan and its food. I loved anime and J-Pop as a teenager, and at college in Los Angeles – where I studied Japanese history – I became ramen-obsessed, which is easy in LA: there’s Little Tokyo and so many good places to eat it. I like ramen to be salty, with flecks of back fat in the broth, thin, hard noodles, garlic, beansprouts ... and you gotta have an egg ... all in a deep round bowl. But there’s always space for instant noodles – they’re an emergency thing, but undeniably good.
I started cooking when I was in high school, but it was only when I moved to Japan after graduation that things started to get serious. I met Laura there and bought her the cutesy Frypanda pan – quite simply a frying pan with a panda face on it – but as you can see we’ve got good use out of it.
I think everyone should have a blowtorch. I use mine for getting coals going on a barbecue, for finishing the skin on fish with some crispness and colour, also to cook through little scallops, for ‘smores without a bonfire ... and for cheese on toast.
In my stash of Japanese essentials I include dashi powder, which you can get from any Asian supermarket. It’s not a cheat like using a stock cube ‘cos it tastes really good! Smoky, fishy, umami. It’s a flavour enhancer, really: my mother-in-law always adds it to fried rice. To make dashi from scratch, you need konbu (seaweed) and fushi (dried tuna or mackerel flakes). I also like this soy sauce – it’s mellow, subtle, not too aggressive or sweet. I put it in everything I cook, including spag bol. Thirdly, miso – a light, creamy white one for veg, and a caramelised, nutty red one for meat such as pork.
For all my Japanese ingredients, I can’t live without Old Bay seasoning . Oh my god, I use it for everything – for eggs, for casseroles – yup, for cheese on toast ... It’s a very Southern blend of spices – celery salt, red and black pepper, paprika – a savoury Bloody Mary kinda flavour.
Chicken katsu curry
The story of Japanese curry is one of global empires rising and falling. Before the end of the 19th century, there was no curry in Japan. It was introduced not from India, Bangladesh, Thailand, Malaysia – or anywhere else that can be thought of as somewhere curry originates – but from Britain. At that time, South Asian curry had already been integrated into the imperial diet, and it was British military officers and diplomats who introduced it to the Japanese. British curry – not very spicy, thickened with flour – caught on, particularly with the Japanese navy and army, where it was celebrated as an economical and tasty way to feed hundreds of hungry servicemen.
Curry remains one of Japan’s favourite comfort foods, as delicious as it is weirdly divorced from curry’s Asian origins. Whereas an Indian curry will be naturally thick from pureed onions/tomatoes/chillies and a whole heap of spices, Japan’s curry is based on a flour-and-butter roux that thickens a lightly spiced, stock-based sauce. I do love Japanese curry, but I also love South Asian curries with their vibrancy and layers of flavour. This recipe combines the two. I keep my curry sauce itself vegetarian, because I find it just as satisfying that way, but if you want you can add chicken, beef or pork to this. In fact, you can add just about anything you want (at the restaurant we put ham and cheese on it and it’s amazing). (Note: if you want a really authentic and really easy Japanese curry experience at home, just buy a box of instant Japanese curry at an Asian supermarket. No, really – it’s good and cheap and fast, and it really doesn’t get much more authentic than that!)
Katsu curry is simply Japanese curry rice with the delightful addition of breaded, fried meat – typically chicken. Feel free to use less veg in the sauce, if you like, since there will be more bulk from the katsu.
Serves 4
1 onion, cut into small chunks
2 carrots, peeled and cut into wedges
400g floury potatoes, peeled and cut into bite-size chunks
½ cauliflower, broken into bite- size florets
300g rice
For the curry sauce
4 tbsp oil
1 large onion, roughly chopped
2cm piece of fresh ginger, peeled and finely sliced
1 green chilli, chopped
2 garlic cloves, peeled
2 tomatoes
½ green apple, peeled and chopped
½ banana
30g mild Madras curry powder
2 tbsp garam masala
750ml vegetable stock (or chicken or beef stock if preferred)
60g butter
6 tbsp plain (all-purpose) flour
2 tbsp ketchup
2 tbsp soy sauce
Salt
For the chicken katsu (optional)
2 skinless, boneless chicken breasts, cut in half horizontally into 2 thin escalopes
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
Plain (all-purpose) flour, for dredging
1 egg, beaten with a splash of milk or water
200g panko breadcrumbs
Oil, for shallow frying
1 For the sauce, combine the oil, onion, ginger, chilli, garlic, tomatoes, apple, banana, curry powder and garam masala in a food processor and blitz to a paste. Pour this into a saucepan and cook on a medium-high heat, stirring often, until the mixture begins to caramelise and the spices become aromatic. Add the stock and bring to the boil.
2 Meanwhile, melt the butter in a separate saucepan and whisk in the flour. Cook on a low heat for about 8 minutes, stirring constantly, until the roux thickens and turns a golden brown colour. Ladle the curry mixture from the other pan into the roux, a little at a time, whisking constantly to incorporate. Add the ketchup and soy sauce. Cook the mixture until it’s quite thick, then transfer to a blender or use an immersion blender to puree until very smooth. Taste and adjust the seasoning with salt.
3 Put the onion, carrots and potatoes in a saucepan and cover with water. Bring to the boil, add the cauliflower and reduce to a simmer.
4 Cook for about 10 minutes, or until everything is tender. Drain and return to the pan, and pour in the curry sauce. Bring everything back to a simmer.
5 To make the chicken katsu, season the chicken breasts well with salt and pepper, then dredge in flour. Soak them in the beaten egg, then coat them thoroughly with the panko. Heat a little oil (about 2mm in depth) in a large frying pan (skillet) over a medium heat. Lay the breaded chicken in the oil and cook for 5–6 minutes on each side. Remove and drain on kitchen paper or a wire rack. Leave to rest briefly before slicing.
6 Serve the sliced chicken katsu with a helping of rice, and of curry – on top, or on the side, as you prefer.
- Tim Anderson is a Masterchef winner and head chef and proprietor of Nanban in Brixton, London; @ChefTimAnderson
- The recipe is an extract from Tim’s book JapanEasy: Classic and Modern Japanese Recipes to Cook At Home, out now.
