I love curry. It bears repeating: I. LOVE. CURRY.
Jasmine Rice: Love.
Curry Powder: LOVE LOVE LOVE.
I don’t care that it never, er, exits well for me. It’s all worth it. When I was living alone, I’d make a giant vat of it and just survive on that throughout the week. I only know how to make Asian-styled curry (I know, India is part of Asia, but we’re forgetting that little geographical detail). I can’t put my finger on what exactly is different, but I can always tell authentic curry made from fob Indian mothers from the Asian counterparts. Maybe it’s the fact that Asian curry isn’t so full of spices that it takes my tongue off (in an awesome, awesome way), but I’m just guessing.