How to be creative with coconut in the kitchen

It’s hard to believe that coconut cream used to be hard to find. Twenty-five years ago I had to cross London for it. Now you can get all things coconutty at the click of a mouse. We eat everything except the hairy shell.

There’s coconut milk, cream, powder, flour, sugar, oil, water, fresh chunks, and toasted, sweetened and unsweetened shavings. Once fit only for toppling at funfairs, the coconut has even been awarded the dubious accolade of ‘superfood’. Coconut water is guzzled by gym bunnies across the land.

As a child I hated the stuff. I remember the disappointment when Granny arrived with tins containing coconut snowballs instead of fairy cakes. And I could always pass on a Bounty. But at university a housemate bought Charmaine Solomon’s splendid tome The Complete Asian Cookbook (Hardie Grant, £45). We threw an Asian feast and melted blocks of creamed coconut – mysterious stuff – in simmering water.

On tasting the curry we’d made, we looked at each other with the thrilled, wide-eyed expression that comes over food lovers when they discover Something New. It was coconutty, yes, but rich, sweet and buttery too. The coconut we were used to was dry and cheap and stuck in your teeth. This tasted of holidays, escape and long, lazy cocktails.

There’s quite a lot of confusion about the various coconut products. What is milk, what is cream, and what about those once-mysterious waxy blocks of creamed coconut?

Coconut cream and coconut milk are produced by soaking grated coconut flesh in water to produce a liquid in which the cream rises to the top and the milk lies below. These are then separated to make two different products. A recipe might call for either – they just differ in richness – but never boil them, as they split.

I still use blocks of creamed coconut. It’s made from coconut flesh that has been ground to a paste and compressed, so it has an intense flavour. You can add it straight to a dish in chunks or by grating it, but you can also dissolve it by stirring 
it in simmering water (adding water according to the thickness you want) as a substitute for a tin of coconut cream.

I keep a stash of these – blocks and tins – in the cupboard at all times. If you have these and a few vegetables and spices, a decent supper is never far away. I can leave coconut water to the gym bunnies. But offer me a coconut-rich Thai or Goan curry and the very scent makes my shoulders drop. Just put my bowl there please. I’m going to eat it under that palm tree.