Words: John Z.
Photo: Estevan Oriol
When Tommy Chong, one half of the legendary comedy stoner duo Cheech & Chong, was asked to cook for Mass Appeal’s Dine Piece, he immediately jumped at the opportunity. Three years earlier, Chong was eating one meal a day during a nine-month prison stint inside a California lock-up. His charge: sending drug paraphernalia (water pipes) across state lines, as part of a nationwide Drug Enforcement Agency (DEA) federal investigation, called “Operation Pipe Dreams” and “Operation Headhunter.”
“Once you’ve been in jail, been naked and spread your butt checks for the law, cooking for the press is nothing,” says Chong, 68, who had his California house and family business, Chong Glass, raided in February of 2003. “My arrest was from the top; it wasn’t some DEA agent saying, ‘Here is Tommy Chong, let’s bust him for selling bongs.’ It’s embarrassing for the DEA to bust a comedian with his face on a bong.” In addition to a documentary about his time behind bars, Chong also appeared on “That ’70s Show” and recently penned The I Chong: Meditations from the Joint [Simon Spotlight Entertainment], recounting his bid in a mostly white-collar prison.
Chong was originally slated to cook Beer Can Chicken, a recipe where the chef sticks a full can of beer in the chicken’s nether region and grills it. When I arrive at his beautiful, upscale Pacific Palisades home (complete with a Toyota Prius hybrid, a Jaguar and a Vespa scooter in the driveway), Chong decides to make a game time decision and flip the recipe script. Instead of rocking the beer can/bird concoction, he opts for Tandoori chicken, a famous Indian/Pakistani dish which is extremely popular in the West, and traditionally cooked in a clay Tandoori oven.
“The Tandoori chicken is great, because it’s base is all the Indian spices and they’re all good,” says Chong, a self-described O.H. (original hippie), who is of Chinese, Scottish and Irish decent. “If I had to choose one food, I would have to choose Indian. I’m quite sure it has aphrodisiacs—it’s like Viagra cuisine.” Although Chong does have a Tandoori oven in his backyard, he chooses to grill the chicken wrapped in tinfoil on a basic old school Weber, because, “the grill is more of a man thing.”
“I love to cook outside on the Weber,” he says. “If ya got the fire, why not put it on?” Inside his kitchen, Chong starts out with organic chicken quarters—first rinsing them under cold water and patting them dry. Reaching for a sharp knife, he then makes two slits into the flesh of each piece, before placing them aside.
Taking a bowl, he drops in a dollop of plain, organic yogurt and mixes in garam masala—a blend of dry-roasted Indian spices consisting of ginger, garlic, chili powder, ground coriander and turmeric. This serves as the base of the marinade. “I like to go all organic whenever I can, because I’m rich and I can afford it,” says Chong, with a coy smile. “Instead of calling the store Whole Foods, they should call it Whole Paycheck.” While adding in lemon juice, organic salt and oil, he beats the concoction until it is evenly mixed. Chong then covers the chicken quarters with the yogurt and spice mix, before leaving it to marinate for three hours.
Retreating to the backyard clad in shorts, flip-flops and a throwback Jefferson Airplane shirt, Chong fires up the Weber before gingerly placing the foil wrapped chicken on the piping hot grill. While the chicken cooks, he waxes nostalgic about eating chicken as well as Japanese, Korean and Arab cuisine in prison and having fresh vegetables served with his meals—courtesy of the prison garden.
“I was lucky, I was with the elite in prison and there was a bunch of guys who worked in the garden, so they would cook every night,” Chong says. “I was invited in. It was like GoodFellas.” After chatting for about an hour, Chong jumps up and peels back the tin foil to inspect the chicken quarters. “Ohhh, ohhh, looking good, look at that,” he says, finding the fowl golden brown and ready to be served. “That’s some good Tandoori.”
Putting the chicken on a large baking sheet, Chong bounces back into the kitchen to prepare a green leafy salad and boil corn. He peels back ears from each piece of corn, like he was breaking up bud in one of his classic stoner flicks. Meticulous and calculated, Chong inspects the corn to first make sure it looks good before plopping a few ears into the boiling water. After lining a large plate with lettuce, he delicately places the chicken quarters on top of the roughage and arranges sliced tomatoes all around the fowl.
As an added touch, he pours the excess chicken juices and a dash of lemon juice over the top of the piping hot bird. He finally adds a sprinkle of cayenne pepper, for flavor. Chong wields a tong, fishes the corn out of the boiling water and places it on a plate. Chong then passes the Earth Balance Soy Butter to slather on the corn. When we retreat to his backyard and sit at a table next to his pool, Chong digs into his well-prepared meal, pleased with his cooking prowess. “My wife does mostly all of the cooking, but I’m the famous guy who sometimes cooks,” he says. “This is the first time I tried to make Tandoori and I think it’s pretty good. Pretty good!”
Tandoori Chicken aka Viagra Cuisine (serves four)
4 chicken quarters
1 teaspoon garam masala
1 teaspoon chopped fresh root ginger
1 teaspoon chopped garlic
1 1/2 teaspoons chili powder
1/4 teaspoon ground turmeric
1 teaspoon ground coriander
1 teaspoon lemon juice
1 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoon corn oil
Open chicken, skin, rinse and pat dry the chicken quarters. Make two slits into the flesh of each piece and place in a dish and set aside. Mix together the yogurt, garam masala, ginger, garlic and chili powder, ground coriander, lemon juice, turmeric, salt and oil and beat well until mixed. Cover chicken quarters with yogurt and spice mixture and leave to marinate for three hours. Bake in oven for 20 to 25 minutes or until chicken is cooked right through and browned. Serve with salad leaves and tomatoes.
