Above is a picture of a recipe of my own creation. I call it “Butter Curry Noodle,” and it combines three of my favorite food stuffs: butter, curry powder, and noodles. Also salt, but that didn’t seem quite important enough to include in the name.
I invented this recipe in college. Butter Curry Noodle is what I make for myself when I’m too sick, or too tired, or too sick and tired to make more substantial food, and also am not able to go out and get food elsewhere. It’s what I made today for dinner; I’ve been kind of sick for about a week, a little better one day and a little worse another, and tonight I found that what I craved — even more than chicken soup or mac and cheese — was my old buttery, curry-ish friend.
There’s no culinary value in this dish, using as it does basic, grocery store curry powder, which any aficionado of Indian food, or any Good Eats fan, will tell you bears no relation to real curry.
But then, when I’m sick I don’t want real curry. I want something soft and gooey, with a little mix of spices to help break through my stuffed up head. The dish is also super easy to make, and uses ingredients that I nearly always have on hand. It can be made with any noodles or pasta. My original version used ramen noodles — I was in college, after all — but these days I prefer other pasta. This serving used some strange, twisted pasta from Pennsylvania Macaroni Company and fancy organic butter from Marty’s Market. And McCormick’s curry powder from Giant Eagle, of course.
Please note that I ate more than Butter Curry Noodle for dinner. I also broiled a lamb loin chop and mashed up some butternut squash I roasted the other day. No veggies because I just couldn’t face prepping them, but overall it was a filling and nourishing meal.
(I added that last paragraph mostly for the benefit of my mom. I called her this afternoon to talk about getting together tomorrow night, forgetting that due to my stuffed up head I currently sound like I’ve been inhaling helium for hours. She was very concerned and offered to drive an hour to bring me some food. “Do you have food?” she asked. I promised that I did, but she didn’t sound convinced. Mom reads this blog, and I don’t want her thinking I was faking having a full cupboard. I’m fine, I’m full, and I’m feeling much better. Don’t worry!)