Tonight we travelled without leaving home.
There's a particular kind of alchemy that happens when you make a proper Thai green curry. The paste blooms in the pan, releasing those complex layers of lemongrass, galangal, and green chilli. The coconut milk goes in, turning the vibrant green into something silky and inviting. And suddenly your kitchen smells like a street market in Bangkok, even though you're nowhere near Thailand.
I started by frying the curry paste in a splash of coconut cream until it was fragrant and the oil began to separate — this is the key moment, where the raw paste transforms into something deeper. Then the chicken thigh pieces went in, coating them in all that aromatic goodness.
Coconut milk next, bringing it to a gentle simmer. Then the vegetables: bamboo shoots for texture, Thai eggplant for its slight bitterness to balance the richness. Fish sauce for umami depth, palm sugar for a whisper of sweetness. Kaffir lime leaves — those glossy, double-lobed leaves that smell like citrus and perfume — torn and added at the end.
The final flourish: a handful of Thai basil, its anise-like fragrance cutting through the coconut. I served it over steamed jasmine rice, the grains soaking up the curry like they were made for this exact purpose.
This is the kind of meal that makes you close your eyes after the first bite. Complex, comforting, a little bit spicy, entirely transporting.
