Every country has its own ways of cooking curry. This is my story. A story of an unforgotten tradition.
It is another sub-entry from my hometown. Living in a place where everything is grown naturally, we usually wouldn’t have to buy the essential ingredients. Our main recipe has always been chicken curry. Because we’re living in a fast-paced generation, I felt overwhelmed by the tight community they have here. Because Father has many siblings, we just usually help each other with just about anything. Cooking curry is simple; Father would use a bamboo pole and manoeuvre it so that the coconut would fall. Father then vehemently uses a machete to peel the coconut’s skin which was amazingly hard for me. Father then would use a machine specializes in removing the inside of the coconut which what would be a desiccated coconut to be mixed in later with the spices and other ingredients. Grandmother specializes in extracting the coconut milk though, the old school way. Grandmother would take a piece of cloth and gingerly put in a sufficient amount of desiccated coconut and she would then twist the cloth gently until coconut milk penetrates through the cloth. It was tiring but yet grandmother never let her weakness beat her will power.
HOWEVER, we just bought the spices at a grocery store… the title doesn’t really define anything doesn it?:P