Scott Morrison’s recipe for the BEST raw chicken korma

When I was a young boy growing up in the culturally diverse suburb of Bronte, my dear mum used to make curry at least once a week. It was a very authentic recipe: chicken, yoghurt and plenty of Keen’s Curry Powder. Yummo! 

As I got older, I had extensive training in “cultural awareness” and realised there’s more to curry than Keen’s. So with the help of authentic Indian chefs The Hairy Bikers, I’ve honed my curry-making skills to perfection and love to show them off every chance I get!

This particular curry recipe has plenty of historical significance for me. It played a major part in the story of why I left New Zealand 20 years ago. It features heavily in the Engadine Macca’s fable. And it’s actually what I served to Barnaby the night before he sent those nasty texts about me.

Ingredients

4 cloves garlic, chopped

1 tablespoon minced fresh ginger

1 medium onion, chopped

Lots and lots of spices (I don’t know what they are — they come pre-mixed with the set and costume)

Yoghurt (LOTS — with all those spices, this curry gets hot)

2 pounds boneless chicken, chopped into bite-sized pieces

½ cup cashews, lightly chopped 

1 cup coconut milk

More yoghurt 

Method

1. As with any good curry, it’s important to start preparing early so that the spices have plenty of time to really do their work. I normally make sure I let my publicity team know that Sunday night is curry night by Thursday latest, that way they have plenty of time to identify the key marginal seats where I should go “shopping” for my “ingredients”. 
   
2. When I get to the kitchen, everything is all ready to go: the chicken is chopped, the spices are ready and that all-important yoghurt is waiting for me. We love kitchen aids, don’t we, ladies! Mine is called Anna something-or-other.
   
3. Now you’re meant to mix the spices with the yoghurt and then marinate the chicken in that mix, but to be honest, Jen and the girls aren’t big fans of the spice, so I often just pop the chicken straight into the yoghurt and leave it at that. Some mean bullies on social media have pointed out that it’s “not really a chicken korma, is it, you dickhead?” if it’s just chicken and yoghurt, but to that I say: woke leftists are trying to silence me.
   
4. Here comes the bit where I do things a little differently. Most cooks will tell you to pop the chicken in first and brown it, but I don’t like how that looks in photos. So what I do is I chuck the coconut milk into the pan and heat it up until it’s bubbling away. Then I turn the heat off and pop the chicken and yoghurt mix straight in there. Mix it all up and just let it kind of sit there with no heat, and let all the flavour from the coconut milk mix with the yoghurt. These two flavours together are just magic. It’s simple chemistry — I learnt that in my science degree from UNSW.
   
5. Like I told Fifi on Melbourne’s Fox FM radio, I leave the chicken in the pan for a full 45 minutes while I let those magical spices do their work sans heat. While the chicken is soaking in the pan, I get my kitchen aid to order in some authentic basmati rice from the Indian fella down the road.
   
6. Now here comes the best part — the photo op! I love a good photo, so I go and get changed out of my church gear into some “casual clothes” while my kitchen aid plates up my yummy chicken. Then I take some photos, instructing the photographer to make sure the light bounces off the chicken to give it that special gleam.
   
7. Once that’s done, I post it on social for my fans. Then I, Jen and the girls sit down to a nice meal cooked by Jen: overcooked steak, mushy broccoli and bland mash — we love it, everyone goes back for seconds!