Dinosaur Chutney

Day 272: Black as coal tar, hot as lava! That's what makes dinosaur chutney my favourite condiment for meat. Originally published in some 1930s cookbook somewhere as "Abdul's Brigadiere Chutney," my mom's version became known as "dinosaur chutney" in our family because it looked like something you'd dredged up out of the La Brea Tar Pits. I have never been able to locate the source recipe, but I do know that it specifies that it should be made with mangos, although peaches are a very acceptable substitute. A batch lasts me several years because I'm not big on beef. Chutney is a way to mask the barnyard taste. It also goes well on pork or chicken, but it is a must for "luxury protein," i.e., dead cow.

A few weeks ago, I got hungry for red meat and broiled a steak. I ate half of it, smothered lavishly with dinosaur chutney, scraping the last tasty dregs from the jar with my finger. The second night, I intended to eat the other half of the steak cold, but when I opened the cupboard to get a new jar of dinosaur, I had a Mother Hubbard moment. No! I'm out? How did that happen? Fortunately, I still had pear-tomato chutney (best for pork), and was able to cover the bovine flavour enough to pronounce it edible. And then I started watching my favourite fruit stand for Yakima peaches, and yesterday, I scored. They weren't quite as ripe as I'd have liked, but that just meant I had to cook the chutney a little longer. A batch-and-a-half yielded three pints, six half-pints, one four-ounce and enough leftovers for a couple of steaks.

So...how do you make dinosaur chutney? Fyrst catch ye an dinosaure...

3 pounds of ripe peaches or mangos, chopped fine
6 cups of sugar
3 ounces of minced garlic
5 tsp. dry ginger
1 generously heaping Tbsp. chili flakes (I usually go even heavier here)
1 pound raisins
2 cups white vinegar
2 Tbsp. salt

Combine ingredients and cook at a gentle boil for at least an hour (cooking time depends on how much liquid the peaches put out). Test for consistency by dropping a little of the syrup on a plate. When it is cool, it should be somewhat sticky, but not quite jelly-like (yesterday's batch cooked over two hours to reach the right consistency). As an alternate test, the syrup should just barely fall in drops from a spoon turned sideways, unlike jelly which will "sheet" from the spoon. Only experience will tell you when it's right. Once the chutney is cooked to the proper consistency, pour it into sterilized jars, cap and process in a boiling-water bath for 15 minutes. Yield for a batch will be roughly 7-8 half-pints.