Miss Masala - Mallika Basu

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healthy pulao or a dal brimming with vegetables. If I do choose to make a curry, I pick those that use only a few spices or have a herby base.

      AND FINALLY, PREPARE THE HOME.

      I’m no Mrs Beeton, but keeping an apartment smelling fresh and wonderful is pure common sense. I keep the kitchen door shut tight and the windows open wide to prevent aromas from creeping into the other rooms. Then the scented candles come out. For a bit of added authenticity, I have a stash of super-strong incense sticks at the ready. Play some Bollywood tunes and it’s the perfect setting for a proper Indian meal.

      Before I move on, though, I have to say this. If you don’t like the aroma of Indian food, you’re reading the wrong book. If it’s your man who doesn’t like it, this is the perfect moment to finally rid yourself of him.

      Gizmos and Gadgets SAVING THOSE PRECIOUS MINUTES

      Inspired by the equipment used by professional cooks, I bought sturdy aluminium pots and pans for cooking Indian food. Big mistake. Those professional types have extra-strong arm muscles and masses of patience (not to mention an army of underlings to scrape off the leftovers). They also don’t get distracted by The X Factor and glitter-vest ironing. I discovered soon enough that the best shortcut of all is to use the highest-quality non-stick cookware I could afford.

      It started a mini revolution in my kitchen. Within a week I had bought my first ever hand blender. This miraculous gadget saves nails like a Korean manicurist. I could now purée fresh ginger and garlic, whiz up some kebab marinade and even make a mango lassi. Thankfully for me, the blender came with completely idiot-proof instructions and a splatter-proof beaker.

      Over the years, I have amassed a grand collection of kitchen gadgets, some exceptionally useful and others utterly pointless. The chopper does a remarkable job of dicing small quantities of vegetables like onion, cucumber, root ginger and garlic. The rice cooker I will take to my grave. The mini electric coffee grinder finely powders in seconds homemade spice blends for dhansak, sambhar and tandoori chicken.

      The food processor, on the other hand, is scary to look at. Exhausting to drag from its special shelf and monstrous on the worktop. Except for grinding small quantities of dry ingredients, the mortar calls for too much pestling. The less said about the juicer and the herb chopper the better.

      The most life-changing of all gadgets has, without a smidgen of doubt, been the pressure cooker. No Indian kitchen is complete without a selection of them in different sizes. I wasn’t always convinced, though. My first doubts about it were sown in my friend’s New York kitchen. Turns out she put some vegetables in the contraption and wandered off to shower and blow-dry her hair. The next thing she heard was a muffled explosion. If the battered pan wasn’t enough to send a shudder through her Molton Browned body, there was green vegetable mush plastered all over the ceiling.

      An internal voice instructed me to stay as far away from explosive kitchen devices as possible. But once I’d learnt not to get too distracted and wander off, I couldn’t help warming to the idea of a pressure cooker. What’s not to like? It cuts cooking time by using steam pressure on the food, saves electricity and, by default, the world. Who says a goddess can’t be a part-time eco-warrior?

      The first time I used one, I sat patiently at the kitchen table waiting for the reassuring whistle. Too scared to go anywhere; too petrified of what might go wrong. Nothing ever did. Now I’ve acquired two. One large one and a smaller version perfect for a meal for two.

      TOP PRESSURE-COOKER TIPS

      1 Never fill the pan to more than a third.

      2 When cooking dal, wash well and add a teaspoon of oil to reduce foaming.

      3 Fry up your spices first in the same pan before you stick the lid on, rather than frying them up separately and adding them after the dish is cooked, as they will still taste raw.

      4 Don’t shake the pan when the lid is on.

      5 Release steam by gently lifting the weight on top with a long-handled wooden spoon and keep out of the way of the little vent holes.

      Cooking Shortcuts THE SEARCH CONTINUES…

      Alongside my quest for life-changing gadgets ran the search for food shortcuts. The attempt to make my own paneer started it. I curdled almost a gallon of milk but ended up with only a tiny block of too crumbly cheese. This was clearly the food equivalent of big box, little present. For a whole day’s work too – Google research included.

      It hardly encouraged me to make my own coconut milk, garam masala, ghee or tomato purée. Ready-to-use ingredients form the basis of a multibillion-pound industry for good reason. I salute them. Particularly the ones that offer high quality and convenience. Sadly, some solutions – like ready-puréed ginger and garlic – don’t always make the cut. They can be more anaemic than the real thing. I keep a store-bought jar of each handy but if you have the time, these two ingredients are definitely worth fiddling over (see the box).

      MY FAVOURITE COOKING SHORTCUTS

       Freshly frozen spinach and peas.

       Frozen grated coconut (from any Oriental supermarket) and coconut milk.

       Tinned chickpeas, black-eyed beans and kidney beans.

       Ready-to-cook frozen parathas – both plain and stuffed with onion.

       Ready-made chappatis/rotis.

      THE TRUTH ABOUT MAKING GHEE

      I would love to make ghee from scratch some day. But I couldn’t possibly recommend it. It takes 3 hours plus to make. My entire flat would then stink of grease for the rest of eternity. Far better just to stick to the bought stuff.

      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 and crispy papads (see below)

      

Keema,

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