Sleet, snow, leaky roof, heartbreak. Everyone needs a dish that refuels the proverbial tank and softens the edges of this thing we call life. For me, that culinary salve comes in the form of a chicken curry that I have turned to again and again over the past 20 years.
Although I canât claim credit for the bright cilantro-based gravy that pops with fresh ginger (thatâs Indian cooking doyenne Madhur Jaffreyâs magical doing), I know the recipe like the back of my hand. Itâs a dish that has been with me since my early 30s, when I was single, living in Washington, D.C., and traveling wherever the muse took me. I made it for my then-boyfriend and his family in South Africa as shelter from his alcoholic storm. I made it for the guy who would become my husband â once I knew he was worthy. And when my dear friend Ravi, originally of Bangalore, India, was relocating to New Zealand with his Sangeeta, he requested âthe curryâ for his send-off supper. When we h