There’s something special about a Sunday lunch.
The unhurried pace.
The pleasure of childhood indulgences. The sinful bhajas. Not one, but a decadent array of them. Or the delectable dessert. Without even a hint of self-reproach.
The eclectic conversations.
Philosophy and Politics.
Confucius and Cricket.
Tagore and Tintin.
The conversations that shall inevitably morph into debates. Animated. Fiery.
And of course the piece de resistance chicken curry. Barring which the Sunday lunch, however elaborate, would never be deemed as satiating.
I pair the bird today with black pepper, not just black pepper but a luxuriant extravagance of it. Then sober it up a bit with a kiss of yoghurt and a touch of cashew paste.
The outcome, my delicious Golmorich Murgi, a delicately balanced spice canvass, a must-try the next time you are planning a feast featuring the bird.