Miss Masala

Simplify Meals

Back home in India, meals ranged from little snack platters to multi-course madness. The elaborate ones featured dal, a meat or fish curry, two vegetable side dishes served with papads, deep-fried shredded potatoes, salad and raita. These were served at weekends and extended family dinners.

Then there were the simple Indian meals, mainly for weekdays or weekend brunches. Like a lamb pulao with Kachumbar Raita. Or shallow-fried parathas stuffed with spiced carrots and served with a selection of pickles and thick natural yoghurt.

And finally, there were the intermittent snacks. The little nibbly things for when you came home famished from swimming lessons or drama classes. Like aloo tikkis and fish chops – little pan-fried croquettes served with coriander and mint chutney.

The same principles apply in my kitchen. Except that we like variety. So Indian curries are limited to two meals a week. My trick is to keep it simple when it’s just the two of us on a weekday. Choose one or two wholesome dishes and serve them up with something low fuss. For example:

Rice and lentil Khichdi (#litres_trial_promo) and crispy papads (see below)

Keema, vegetable dal and piping hot basmati (#ulink_032580b3-b484-56ec-a8c5-887788a4e852) rice (for a fail-safe recipe)

Paneer Bhujia (#litres_trial_promo) with toasted pitta bread

Masala Fish (#litres_trial_promo) and a green leaf salad

COOKING CRISPY PAPADS

For the best results, cook for 1 minute on high in the microwave. No need for a plate. If you don’t have a microwave, pop directly on the hob (gas or electric) for 1 minute, turning until evenly crispy on both sides.

Cooking two or more dishes at the same time calls for some dedication. So this I reserve for weekends when I push the boat out with a few additional dishes like raita or sabzi. This works wonders for when a friend pops in too. I might make:

Methi Murgh, Baingan Bharta (#litres_trial_promo) and Fluffy Basmati (#ulink_032580b3-b484-56ec-a8c5-887788a4e852) Rice

Chicken Jhalfrezi (#ulink_5e5fba20-e3ea-55af-8fc2-3f15d834355a), Anda Raita (#litres_trial_promo) and ready-made parathas

Bhuna Gosht, Spinach Dal and Jeera Pulao (see the box (#litres_trial_promo))

For dinner parties, it’s more of the same, with fancier recipes and a quick dessert. I cook a few dishes in advance in large quantities and either freeze them or keep them in the fridge. I then reheat them just before the meal, either in the oven or the microwave. The trick is to leave as little to do on the day as possible.

Larger crowds and wilder soirées call for clever thinking. The simplest thing to do, I’ve found, is to cook large batches of filling food. Little parcels, croquettes and other bits that need to be individually fashioned and then fried are definite no-nos. The ingredients of choice for me are chicken drumsticks, potatoes, vegetables and lentils that can be grilled or left to bake while I get pretty. Laid out with some homemade chutney and flatbread, they effortlessly make me the life and soul of the party.

Cooking Extra to Save Time in the Future

Cooking for eight in order to feed two is a sub-continental cultural phenomenon. Where I come from, it is customary to feel overwhelmed by hospitality and the vast quantities of food served. Who am I to disregard years of ritual overfeeding?

In fact, this time-honoured tradition works rather well for me. If I’m going to forgo speed-dialling my local Japanese takeaway, I want to savour the results more than just once.

This means I have a special relationship with Tupperware. I buy a lot of it but deplete most of my supply by drunkenly distributing doggy bags to guests after dinner parties. Then I start stockpiling them again. My fridge contains more Tupperware than food. There are boxes filled with half-used vegetables, leftover chopped tomatoes and fresh puréed ginger and garlic paste.

We eat our fill of what was cooked the day before. The remainder gets stashed away in the freezer for another day’s feast. I’ve worked out that you can freeze just about anything: dal, chicken curry, lamb curry and so on. But not cooked potatoes or rice. I learnt the hard way that they get horribly soggy when you defrost them at room temperature or in a microwave.

How long the stuff lasts in a freezer clearly depends on the appliance. In the knock-off, creaking freezer supplied by a penny-pinching landlord, I could wait about a month before sensibly emptying the contents of rock-solid Tupperware. In my glossy, second-hand Smeg, I give each frozen box about two months.

And each time, the food tastes even better defrosted and reheated. Firstly, because it’s the flavoursome leftovers (as explained on page (#u4b49c727-396b-4a18-84e0-8094d720f67e)). Secondly, because I didn’t have to cook it from scratch on a day when I simply didn’t have the energy to do so.

WHEN AND WHAT TO DRINK WITH INDIAN FOOD A CAUTIONARY TALE

When I gained enough confidence in the kitchen, I invited my colleagues for dinner. The drinks were flowing. Nerves (mine) were running high. I drank one glass of wine. Then another while they waited to be fed. Before I knew it, the room was spinning and the food looked as green as I felt.

Staying sober until the curry’s cooked is a difficult task. I tend to join the festivities prematurely. Which inevitably leads to last-minute, bleary-eyed panic.

The odd glass of alcoholic beverage while cooking curry is a must. It fills me with the confidence of a teenage Ferrari driver. But it’s hard to stop there. So when the pressure is on (i.e. my boss is waiting to be fed/colleagues are relying on my party snacks) I simply avoid drinking until the food’s on the table. And overcompensate for the abstinence later.

The tipple of choice is almost always a good-quality vodka or gin. Both are non-acidic, highly distilled, refreshingly smooth and go perfectly with a dash of tonic water and Indian food. Saying that, I also consume copious amounts of wine with curry. This is not always the best idea for food cooked with yoghurt, chillies and spices. Acidic, oaky or tannin-heavy varieties are best avoided, judging from my morning-after experiences. When in doubt, I read the labels. ‘Fruity’ and ‘easy to drink’ are the buzzwords to look out for.

There’s beer too. Which I know little about and avoid at all costs to save my gut from an expansive fate. When I’m buying it for guests, top choices are Asian varieties like Cobra, Kingfisher or Tiger beer. Works a treat every time.

BEFORE YOU START, REMEMBER THIS:

OIL COOKING IN A PAN WILL SIZZLE AGAINST A WOODEN SPOON WHEN IT IS HOT AND READY FOR YOUR INGREDIENTS.

INDIAN FOOD SMELLS GREAT BUT NOT ON YOU OR YOUR FURNITURE. PROTECT YOURSELF!

WHACK UP THE HEAT AND STIR LIKE A MANIAC TO PREVENT FOOD FROM BURNING.

IF THE INGREDIENTS GET STUCK TO THE BOTTOM OF THE PAN, ADD A BIT OF HOT WATER AND SCRAPE THEM OFF.

TRY NOT TO GET DRUNK AND PASS OUT BEFORE DINNER IS READY.

2. (#ulink_8a04053e-b478-5943-9a05-109a205f4415)

PERFECT IN NO TIME (#ulink_8a04053e-b478-5943-9a05-109a205f4415)

Quick recipes for when you’d rather not be in the kitchen (#ulink_8a04053e-b478-5943-9a05-109a205f4415)

Miss Masala.

YET ANOTHER CLIENT CRISIS, the biggest new business pitch ever and two long meetings. Being part PR consultant and part domestic goddess can be hard going. Still sitting at my desk at eight in the evening, editing version 25 of what was once an interesting report on a riveting subject, I was considering professional suicide with one quick e-mail.

Dear client, I began, much as I would like to spend the rest of my life editing your insightful document, I no longer have the will to continue. And then, the cleaners arrived. It was a sign from above. My brain entered meltdown mode. I pressed delete and started wondering what to cook for dinner as I grabbed my coat, dashed outside and flagged down a taxi on the street.

All I needed now to unwind was an uneventful ride home and a hearty Indian meal. It’s at moments like this that I am tempted to call the local Spice-Tandoori-Balti-Taj-Mahal-Whatever. For anything with chilli and turmeric in it. That I don’t have to cook myself.

Time seems almost always to be in short supply in my life. Cooking Indian food has to jostle for pride of place in a topsy-turvy week of client deadlines, unexpected guests and last-minute plans with friends. Days are mostly spent planning evenings out with close friends at cocktail bars, restaurants or nightclubs. And then recovering from them.

There is a time and a place for elaborate cooking. Busy weekdays and social weekends most definitely aren’t it. But masala cravings can make me do terrible things. I have ghastly memories of midnight meals. Gammon steaks wrapped in ready-frozen parathas. Soda bread soaked in mango pickle. Cringe-worthy failed attempts to cook dal when drunk. I’ve even come this close to trying out an Australian colleague’s recipe for curry porridge.

The sensible thing to do, of course, is to cook oneself something when sober and wide awake. Something requiring minimum effort but with maximum result. A wholesome, healthy dish that uses fridge-ready ingredients and takes no more than half an hour from preparation to plate.

I’m talking protein-rich vegetable dal, a comforting pulao or some bhuna chicken with salad. All cooked in extra quantities to provide sustenance before and after a booze-fuelled evening, or simply frozen for busy days to come and other desperate moments.

I racked my brains for inspiration as I flopped on to the taxi seat.The back of a black cab is usually where I pause to think and take stock. Make calendar notes of birthdays. Return overdue phone calls. Painfully remind myself of the meagre contents of the fridge.

And then the friendly driver interrupted my reverie:

‘Are you Welsh?’