Lamb Masala ~ Voodoo Child

It’s said that everyone should work in Customer Service at least once in their lifetime, to appreciate what it’s like to work on the other side of the counter, to understand it’s about mutual respect not entitlement, and to master the art of maintaining a professional demeanor when you and your coworkers start toppling over like a flock of Fainting Goats.

Sister Madly never did achieve that last one.

It was at Utopia, and as was the winter custom, Sister Madly and Co. were passing around the common cold like a freshly-lit peace-pipe. These colds were typically nothing more than a nuisance, and this time would have been no different if it weren’t for one thrilling side-effect:


Imagine, if you will, Sister Madly going about her day, selling crystals and reaping the souls of the righteous, when the floor beneath her right foot suddenly falls away into the abyss. Now imagine this being accompanied by a crushing bout of dizziness, resulting in a full-on face plant into the patchouli incense.

Or into a customer.

Or the Voodoo Fetish.*

* Nkondi, a grotesque statue covered with nails, whose function was to protect villages of the Congo by housing a spirit that hunts, harms, and punishes witches and other enemies of the tribe. Best not to anger it.

Feeling that she was entitled to a little sit-down after that whole ‘face in the Fetish’ incident, Sister Madly lingered amongst the beads and mystery dust, wondering if she owed the Fetish an apology. She’d hate for it to foster a lifelong grudge over this little incident- that sort of thing is not healthy! Particularly not for the angelic, oh-so-plucky, shorter-than-she-deserves-to-be Sister Madly.

But her heartfelt apology was interrupted by Victor, who was crawling across the floor, pushing a shoe box ahead of him with a wooden dowel as though it were a fresh batch of nitroglycerin.


Victor, being the throes of vertigo himself, refused to carry the box lest he drop it, refused to slide it along the floor with his foot lest he fall on top of it, and certainly didn’t want Sister Madly- who had violated the Fetish, uninvited- handling it, lest he be cursed by proxy.

It wasn’t nitroglycerin in that box, but it might as well have been to Victor: a fertility god the size of business card, carved from a single opal. Victor had a pathological fear* of fertility gods, afraid that he would upset one and be cursed with a litter of children without engaging in the enjoyable process of making those children.

* He also lived in fear of the Giant Squid.

Normally, Sister Madly wouldn’t be too concerned with angering the Fertility God- after all, she routinely used the African gods to fan herself when she was hot and has yet to give birth to anything other than some incredibly bad ideas. Still, she had to admit that she, too, didn’t feel much like having children at the moment. There was still so much she did not understand about the universe, like tire treads. Why are they so blasé? If Sister Madly had a monopoly on the tire market, she would implement a line of designer treads, like Celtic Knots. She’d like a set of tires with Celtic Knot tread. Or a string of poetry- just imagine all the joy of happening upon Lovecraft written in the snow.

That is not dead which can eternal lie…

Or perhaps Poe- the entire tread nothing but the word Nevermore in slick, gothic lettering.

Or Dr. Seuss.

I do not like green eggs and ham…

It was absolutely brilliant, this idea of Poetry Tire Tread- but a brilliance the world would never know if Sister Madly ended up annoying the Fertility God. She could combat whatever curse the Fetish was about to dish up- endless William Shatner on the radio, a plague of creepy-crawlies, cucumbers- by hiding in her sock drawer, but children could easily break through this line of defense (she ought to know, having once been a child.) Indeed, a litter of Sister Madlys would be a nightmare.

Victor chose to continue on his own. He didn’t want a litter of Sister Madlys either.


  • 1lb lamb, cubed
  • 1 14oz. can coconut milk
  • 1½ TBSP ginger, minced
  • 1½ TBSP garlic, minced
  • 1 sm onion, chopped
  • 1-2 chilies, chopped
  • 1 TBSP tomato paste
  • 1 tsp mustard seeds
  • 1 tsp turmeric
  • 1 tsp cumin
  • 1 tsp coriander
  • 1 tsp garam masala
  • ½ tsp cardamom
  • salt/pepper, to taste
  • ghee, for sautéing

Brown lamb in heated pan; set aside
Heat ghee in pan
Add mustard seeds; roast until seeds start popping all over town
Add onions; sauté until translucent
Add chilies; sauté 2-3 min
Add ginger and garlic; sauté 2-3 min
Add spices; sauté until fragrant; 30 secs
Add tomato paste; stir to coat
Add lamb; stir to coat
Add coconut milk; mix, and bring to a boil
Reduce heat; simmer until lamb is tender, stirring occasionally; 15-20 min

THEME SONG: Voodoo Chile, The Jimi Hendrix Experience


14 responses

  1. ~ ~ ~ Are you experienced? ~ ~ ~ Yeah, yeah, yeah, it had to be sung!

    All of a sudden I want “Lamb Gumbo”…. I find this odd and disturbing! Not as odd or disturbing as a Labradoodle, but up there!

    Liked by 1 person

    January 25, 2018 at 5:23 AM

    • Gumbo is a weird word.

      So is Labradoodle.

      Labradoodle Gumbo… probably shouldn’t have paired those two words together, but there you have it.


      January 25, 2018 at 4:31 PM

      • And the pekinese parfait!

        Liked by 1 person

        January 25, 2018 at 5:02 PM

        • I don’t think PETA’s going to like this menu for their charity fundraiser, but I’ll present it nonetheless.


          January 25, 2018 at 5:11 PM

        • Just Tell them about the kale wrapped tofu sushi and it’ll be fine!

          Liked by 1 person

          January 25, 2018 at 6:00 PM

  2. As always, you entertain😉😊I hope your vertigo has abated. I too suffer from this. I pop Sturgeron, Stemetil or Cinnarzine like candy when it hits me! Aargh..I don’t like it and I feel you SM☺

    Liked by 1 person

    January 25, 2018 at 9:14 AM

  3. Ooo I want a tire dread that just says DADA. ^_^ You *are* brilliant, Mads.

    Liked by 1 person

    January 25, 2018 at 10:11 AM

    • Hee hee- thanks!

      Customized treads should definitely be an option- no doubt it would make Forensics a little easier and more pleasant at crime scenes when they come across poetry in the mud.

      Liked by 1 person

      January 25, 2018 at 4:43 PM

  4. I actually winced and felt a little pain when you said you fell down….ouch….. no getting sick for you please this year…got it… (no falling down like a goat either)

    Liked by 1 person

    January 25, 2018 at 10:41 AM

    • Wait- I fell down, and YOU felt pain? Is that how the Fetish works?!?

      Is so, I’m sorry about stubbing your toe on the bookshelf last night…

      Liked by 1 person

      January 25, 2018 at 4:51 PM

      • Stub it again…. I liked 🙂

        Liked by 1 person

        January 26, 2018 at 6:06 AM

        • It’s hard to stub a toe on purpose- however, I can easily bash your funny bone against the doorjam, if you’d like.

          Liked by 1 person

          January 26, 2018 at 10:01 AM

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