South Asian

What is required here is not a cream that one can go out and buy. This “cream” is really a kind of pudding or kheer, thickened by boiling milk down, not by adding starch to it. In order to take some of the labor out of the process, Indians have taken to adding condensed milk. This works very well indeed. This is a thinnish cream, ideal to serve with fruit. I put the cut-up fruit (mangoes, guavas, pears, peaches, and bananas are ideal, but I have used berries as well) in individual bowls, or in old-fashioned ice cream cups, and then pour the flavored cream over the top.

At all of India’s roadside stalls, Masala Chai is served already sweetened. I have added about 1 teaspoon sugar per cup in this recipe, which makes the tea just mildly sweet. You may double that amount, if you prefer.

This is best made when good fresh mangoes are in season. When they are not, very good-quality canned pulp from India’s excellent Alphonso mangoes may be used instead. Most Indian grocers sell this.

Here is a condiment that I just cannot live without. You can add a dollop to curries or use it as you might any prepared mustard. It perks up hot dogs, my husband smears it on bacon and ham, it goes with roast beef, and it is a lovely, pungent addition to sandwiches. We always keep a jar in the refrigerator. Try smearing it on fresh pineapple slices to serve with a curry meal or a ham or pork roast (see next recipe), or use it to make Vegetable Pickle (see page 258).

When I first ate this Sri Lankan pickle, known simply as Singhala Achcharu, it was made with green beans and carrots, but it may be made with other vegetables as well, including green papaya, found in East Asian and South Asian markets, and cauliflower. You may combine all these vegetables if you like, cutting each of them so the pieces are more or less the same size.

Here is an easy everyday yogurt relish. I like to use a good whole-milk yogurt here, but if you prefer a low-fat variety it would work well too. My cherry tomatoes were on the larger side so I cut each into eight portions. Use more if they are smaller and just quarter them. Serve with most Indian meals or eat by itself as a snack.

This may be served with all Indian meals. It is particularly good with grilled meats and kebabs and makes an exciting dip for vegetables and all manner of crisps and fritters. Also, try a layer of it in a sandwich (cheese, turkey, or tomato-and-lettuce) instead of butter.

A fresh chutney to serve with all Indian meals, it has a shelf life of 2–3 days if stored in the refrigerator. What is not used up may be easily frozen for another day.

At Bengali banquets, this chutney, along with deep-fried, puffed white-flour breads (loochis) and pappadoms, is served as the penultimate course, just before the dessert. Here in the Western world, I tend to serve it with the main meal: I layer it thickly on hamburgers, serve dollops with fried chicken and roast lamb, use it as a spread for cheese sandwiches, and, at Indian meals, offer it as a relish with my kebabs and curries.

This Sri Lankan sambol may best be described as an accompanying salad or relish to be served at curry meals. You can make it as hot as you like.

This simple sauce is perfect for spooning over fried fish, fried chicken, grilled meats, and any kind of kebab.

his is a salad from India’s western state of Gujarat. Two tablespoons of crushed roasted peanuts could be added to it just before serving and stirred in. It may be served with most Indian meals and lasts several days in the refrigerator if kept covered.

This hot, savory chutney is from what used to be India’s northwest frontier but now is on Pakistan’s border with Afghanistan. There it is made with fresh red chilies, which have beautiful color and medium heat. They are not always easy to find, so I use a mixture of red bell peppers and cayenne pepper. They are always combined with nuts, generally almonds but sometimes walnuts. This chutney may be frozen. It is like gold in the bank. Serve it with kebabs, fritters, and with a general meal.

In much of India, a fresh salad is present at every single meal. This kind of cucumber salad was something that my mother threw together moments before we sat down to eat. Cucumbers with tiny undeveloped seeds have the best texture, but when cucumbers are growing wildly in my garden and some that hid themselves too successfully among the leaves have grown beyond the best picking size, I pick them anyway, peel them, and scoop out their seeds. They still make good eating. (Whenever I pick a particularly large, overgrown cucumber, I can never throw it in the compost heap because I think of Inder Dutt. At the age of thirteen, he came down from a poor village in the Himalayan mountains to try to eke out a living in the plains. In Delhi, he somehow managed to get into a cousin’s household where they taught him how to do odd jobs and eventually even how to cook. He became so adept that my cousin brought him to New York as her cook. Every now and then he would come over to our apartment to help out. I could never get enough of the stories about his childhood. He had spent the snowy mountain winters without shoes, huddling in the floor above the animals to stay warm at night. In the summers, he had to go work in the fields. When he got very thirsty, he would just pick the largest cucumber he could find, snap it in two, and quench his thirst with its juicy flesh.)

My North Indian family called this salaad, or salad, but similar salads with varying seasonings are known in some parts of India as cachumbar. These salads generally contain onions (our Indian red onions), cucumbers, and tomatoes but, according to the seasons, we in Delhi could find radishes or kohlrabi in them as well. In some parts of India, barely sprouted mung beans and peanuts could be added. This fresh salad was always at our table at every meal in some form, with the simplest of dressings added at the last minute. There was never any oil in this dressing. Instead, there was fresh lime juice, salt, pepper, chili powder, and ground roasted cumin seeds. We just put a generous dollop on our plates (or side plates) and ate it with everything.

The dough for the paratha is similar to that of a poori but is rolled out very differently to give it multiple layers. It is cooked on a cast-iron griddle rather like a pancake, with butter, ghee, or oil to keep it lubricated. This particular paratha, among the simplest to make, is triangular in shape. Parathas are a very popular breakfast food when they are eaten with yogurt and pickles. They may also be served at mealtimes with meats and vegetables.

A chapati is like a tortilla. Unlike a corn tortilla, it is made out of wheat flour. Unlike a wheat tortilla, it is made out of whole-wheat flour known as ata or chapati flour. You may use a tortilla press or a chapati press (they are almost the same) instead of rolling each one out with a rolling pin. Small thin chapatis (about 5 inches in diameter) are considered much more elegant than large thick ones, though you will find all sizes in the cities and villages of India. Those who eat chapatis daily eat them with everything at lunch and dinner. You break off a piece and enfold a piece of meat or vegetable in it. If you want to spice up the morsel a bit more, you brush it against a chutney or pickle. You could also roll up some food inside a whole chapati, to make a kind of “wrap,” though you would not do this at the table, only with leftovers to make a snack.

A poori requires almost the same dough as the chapati, except there is a little oil in it. It is rolled out almost the same way too, but then, instead of being cooked on a hot, griddle-like surface, it is deep-fried quickly in hot oil, making it puff up like a balloon. (When the same bread is made with white flour, as it is in Bengal, it is called a loochi.) Pooris may be eaten with all curries and vegetables. At breakfast, pooris are often served with potato dishes—such as Potato and Pea Curry or Potatoes with Cumin and Mustard Seeds—and hot pickles and chutneys. They are eaten very much like chapatis—you break off a piece and roll some vegetable in it, then brush it against a pickle or chutney. We always took them on picnics with us, all stacked up inside a tin. On picnics and train journeys, they were eaten with ground-meat dishes and pickles, all at room temperature.

Bulgar, a wheat that has been cooked, cracked, and dried, is used in parts of the Punjab (northwestern India) to make a variety of nutritious pilafs. The coarser-grained bulgar is ideal here. Serve as you would a rice pilaf.

There are hundreds of versions of this salad-like dish that are eaten throughout South India and parts of western India as well. At its base is rice, the local starch and staple. (Think of the bread soups of Italy and the bread salads of the Middle East.) The rice is cooked so it is quite soft. Then yogurt, and sometimes a little milk as well, is added as well as any fruit (apple, grapes, pomegranate), raw vegetables (diced tomatoes, cucumbers), or lightly blanched vegetables (green beans, zucchini, peas) that one likes. The final step is what makes the salad completely Indian. A tiny amount of oil is heated and spices such as mustard seeds, curry leaves, and red chilies are thrown into it. Then the seasoned oil is poured over the rice salad to give it its pungency and reason for being. This cooling, soothing dish, somewhat like a risotto, makes a wonderful lunch. It is best served at room temperature, without being refrigerated. Other salads may be added to the meal.

Here is a recipe I have devised for the brown rices (and mixtures that combine brown rice with wild rice) usually found in Western markets. Served with vegetables and a yogurt relish, it makes a fine vegetarian meal. You may also serve this with meat and fish curries.

A refreshing rice dish that may be served with vegetables, bean and split-pea dishes, and chutneys. Sometimes, I just eat it all by itself with a large green salad.

Jasmine rice is very different in texture and taste from basmati rice. It is more clingy, more spongy, and more glutinous and, at its best, has a jasmine-like aroma. On some days it is exactly the soothing rice I yearn for. It is certainly closer to the daily rice eaten in South, East, and West India, where basmati rice is reserved for special occasions only. Look for good-quality jasmine rice, usually sold by Thai and other Oriental grocers. Sadly, price is often a good indication of quality. I usually do not bother to wash it, as I enjoy its slightly sticky quality.