Lucky Paulie said he was coming over to Man Pit to cook me dinner and he brought this! Now even I know you can’t put plastic in the oven. “Lucky Paulie what the hell were you thinking…” as I reached for my phone to dial the downstairs pizza place.
Turns out these are the ingredients in a Rogan Joshua. I thought Rogan Joshua just came in a bain marie at a cheap and easy Indian diner – Lucky Paulie assures you mix all of these in a pot and out comes some Joshua. Go figure!
You may know, I hate cooking. Hate it in the same way you hate planter warts. Since being at Man Pit and setting off the fire alarm in the first week I have relied solely on the generosity of friends, oven food and the pizza place downstairs. This is what has spurred Lucky Paulie into action – he saw my Sunday night Tweet of 5 empty pizza boxes. Now he wants to teach me to cook. He’s one of my oldest friends but I fear he may not know me at all.
“What do you know how to do?” Paulie asks. “Chop.” And that is literally all I know in the kitchen. I am subsequently in charge of onions. Paulie attends to the more delicate tasks of garlic and ginger.
Paulie asks “Do you have a garlic crusher?”
“No, why would I have one of those?
“Do you have a grater?”
“No. Again I ask, why would I need one of those?”
Seriously only the MasterChef Kitchen would have these surely? Why would an inner-city bachelor pad rented by someone who’s favourite chef is Colonel Sanders have them? I passed Paulie my only big knife and he improvised. He’s very clever Paulie, not just a pretty face who puts the news to air each night. Check it out – I think we did pretty darn good considering the ‘alleged’ limited resources of Man Pit.
Paulie looked very dashing in the Man Pit kitchen. He was throwing ingredients around like he was the Swedish chef on the Muppets. I was so confused as to what was what that I had to pour myself another vodka and check out Twitter. I was supporting him emotionally and spiritually. I did warn Paulie that I was considerably less interested in learning as he was in teaching.
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Man Pit hasn’t smelt this good since the first time I walked in the door just after the industrial cleaners had left. Little Sammy was beside himself, the smell of slow-cooked fresh food is completely foreign to him. Paulie didn’t even let me boil the rice. Told you he was clever! My contribution at this point was to set the timer on my iPhone so we knew when rice was ready. BINGO! Dinner is served!
You can see the joy on my face (and the jealousy on Sam's!).
And if you can look past the beautiful Rogan Joshua, yes I am wearing a headband, as I often do once I slip into my After-5’s at Man Pit.
Thank you Lucky Paulie for giving it your very best attempt to teach me a new skill. Thank you Lucky Paulie for recognizing that I possibly wasn’t eating a very balanced diet. But most of all thank you Lucky Paulie for serving up a Rogan Joshua that tasted even better than any take-away Indian Diner on Oxford St.