Why Indian-ish?
People are often intimidated by the thought of cooking Indian food. The curry powder and sultana approach to Indian cookery has long been discarded by increasingly knowledgeable eaters, but the quest for authenticity which replaced it has brought long lists of spices, strange ingredients and cookbooks which are part travelogue, part dictionary. Add to this the experience of rich and fattening restaurant food and the result is that only dedicated cooks usually ever tackle the mysteries of the Indian kitchen at home. But to those of us from Indian migrant families, this seems puzzling. We know first hand that Indian food can be quick, cheap, healthy and heavily reliant on the store cupboard. And if you’re a vegetarian or have lots of vegetarian friends, then it’s a saviour to know how to conjure up an Indian meal.
But it has to be said that the food we grew up on does not always meet the authenticity test of visiting family from India. Except for the dedicated few, the food we are used to is “Indianish”, rather than properly Indian. Our parents often taught themselves to cook after having left India and the protective hearth of their mother’s kitchen. Generations of students and workers came home from work or from studying medicine, accountancy and IT to teach themselves how to cook, trying to recapture the elusive taste of home with one battered pan and a single cooking ring in their lonely bedsits and student halls. Indian ingredients have become easier to find, but many of them had to work with whatever they could get then, finding substitutes for all manner of ingredients. And so in their nostalgic quest, they grew to enjoy rice-bubble raita, fried cheerios or cornflakes with salt and garam masala and cheese on toast smeared with a little of the precious pickle carried back in a leaky jar from Varanasi on their last visit home. And they passed onto us, their children, a love of these hybrid snacks and half-bred pleasures and the ability to cook Indian food without hours to spare and all the women making roti in the kitchen for most of the meal. And when companies in their new countries started marketing ready-made ‘curry’ pastes and packaged naans, they embraced them, knowing how to use them (not always as indicated on the packet) to make them taste (almost) just like home. We just don’t admit it to dinner guests, preferring the image of authentic hours spent wielding mortar and pestle … So this blog is designed to share with you those secrets of Indianish food and to bring the simple, delicious and often cheap and healthy dishes inspired by India into your everyday cooking. If you have experiences of ‘Indianish’ food, why not share them? Recipe requests? Just ask. If I can’t help you, I’ll ask my mum!
But it has to be said that the food we grew up on does not always meet the authenticity test of visiting family from India. Except for the dedicated few, the food we are used to is “Indianish”, rather than properly Indian. Our parents often taught themselves to cook after having left India and the protective hearth of their mother’s kitchen. Generations of students and workers came home from work or from studying medicine, accountancy and IT to teach themselves how to cook, trying to recapture the elusive taste of home with one battered pan and a single cooking ring in their lonely bedsits and student halls. Indian ingredients have become easier to find, but many of them had to work with whatever they could get then, finding substitutes for all manner of ingredients. And so in their nostalgic quest, they grew to enjoy rice-bubble raita, fried cheerios or cornflakes with salt and garam masala and cheese on toast smeared with a little of the precious pickle carried back in a leaky jar from Varanasi on their last visit home. And they passed onto us, their children, a love of these hybrid snacks and half-bred pleasures and the ability to cook Indian food without hours to spare and all the women making roti in the kitchen for most of the meal. And when companies in their new countries started marketing ready-made ‘curry’ pastes and packaged naans, they embraced them, knowing how to use them (not always as indicated on the packet) to make them taste (almost) just like home. We just don’t admit it to dinner guests, preferring the image of authentic hours spent wielding mortar and pestle … So this blog is designed to share with you those secrets of Indianish food and to bring the simple, delicious and often cheap and healthy dishes inspired by India into your everyday cooking. If you have experiences of ‘Indianish’ food, why not share them? Recipe requests? Just ask. If I can’t help you, I’ll ask my mum!
Comments
What a great idea for a blog! I have a really simple chick pea recipe people might be interested in. I discovered it last year while visiting my family in Mauritius which as you know is a very Indianish Island. Its best eaten cold and so is great for that summer picnic in a London park or as a snack while lazing on a sun-drenched beach overlooking the Indian Ocean. So here goes:
Heat some olive oil on a high heat. Add about a tablespoon of mustard seeds and wait until you hear them pop. Chuck in a finely sliced onion, one or two cloves of chopped garlic and a few curry leaves then lower the heat slightly and cook until the onion is soft. Add a can of (drained) chick peas and fry for a few minutes. Allow to cool before eating.
Being an Anglo-Australian male, for whom 'daal' is something we call our 'sheilas' when we're feeling amorous, my lentil expertise is somewhat lacking! I wondered whether you had a more interesting recipe for daal, and suggestions for side dishes/condiments, than the standard onion, red lentil, oil, garlic, spices and veggie stock recipe I am employing at the moment...
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