The spices are merely a vessel for culture, community, storytelling, and politics. The recipes were so fresh, simple, and seasonal. That's not the version of South Asian food that most people know.
You can skip the entire cumbersome step of straining your rice by placing a fine mesh sieve or strainer on top of your pot and pouring the rice directly into it, rather than into the water. Leave the sieve in the pot for the whole cooking process with a cover placed on top. The steam rising from the water will cook the rice, giving you a perfectly separated, airy result.
Walking through the narrow bylanes of Mylapore neighbourhood at dusk is like watching a sepia-tinted postcard of Madras coming to life and gently reasserting itself over the Chennai of today. The 7th-century Kapaleeshwarar Temple, the fulcrum of commerce and culture, draws the devout into its timeless force field, and on nearby Pitchu Pillai Lane, a small crowd gathers around the Raghul Kuzhi Paniyaram street stall to buy kuzhi paniyarams: spongy orbs of pan-fried batter speckled with mustard seeds.
Med Salleh, which has has one Malaysian restaurant in Bayswater and two Vietnamese ones in Westbourne Grove and Earl's Court, has just added a fourth branch in Kentish Town. The newest site is Malaysian-focused, like the original, serving a menu of street food inspired by Med's upbringing in Malaysia, including dishes from his hometown of Kampar as well as flavours from Ipoh and Penang.
When Ceylon India Inn opened near Times Square in the early 1900s, the city's first South Asian restaurant quickly became a hub for New York's burgeoning community of desi (a term used to describe people of South Asian descent) dock workers, and students. More than a century later, there are more than 400 such restaurants across the five boroughs, enticing a far more diverse array of diners.
Though they were only serving in town for one night, the chefs and staff behind the Mexico City supernova Masala y Maíz managed to cause what felt like a temporary ripple in L.A. dining during their pop-up last week. It reminded this diner that despite the era's current dedication to culinary and cultural boundaries - you should only cook what you know, write what you know - a spirit of mixture and melding can actually lead to something extraordinary, and not cringey, in practice.
A true one-pot meal, this Indian-spiced rice is made with store-bought spicy simmer sauce, paired with tofu and cauliflower. It's hearty, filling and you can load it up with a range of herbs or crunchy nuts as toppings. We are staying in a little loft in San Francisco right now, trying to find our next place to live. The kitchen is tiny: two electric burners, a microwave, roughly 2 feet of counter space.
"Even just a few minutes makes a difference," Daud explains. "Resting lets the excess steam escape and gives the starches time to settle, so the rice ends up fluffy instead of wet or clumpy." Daud adds that the go-to time is 10 minutes for a standard amount of rice, but larger batches can require a longer rest. "If I'm making a bigger batch for a dinner party," she says. "I usually give the rice around 30 minutes to rest." However, when making certain "cultural dishes" like maklouba, Daud notes that she will "let it rest up to an hour or even a bit more before serving."
The first whiff of garam masala, for example, might transport you back to a wonderful meal that you had at your favorite Indian restaurant last weekend. Curry powder, on the other hand, despite bearing the word "curry" in its title - which is what you ordered at the Indian restaurant, right? - is unlikely to awaken such a connection. Its aroma might, however, remind you of dishes coming from countries like Jamaica, Thailand, and Japan.
This creamy Spinach Lentil Curry is comforting, richly spiced without being heavy and made with just a few pantry staple ingredients in about 30 minutes. Prep Time: 10 minutes. Cook Time: 20 minutes. Servings: Makes 4 servings of approximately 1.5 cups each. Nutrition: 269 calories with 17g protein + 19g fibre. Dietary Info: Vegan, gluten-free, dairy-free, nut-free. Difficulty: Easy! One-pan recipe with minimal ingredients and prep needed.
Coriander and cumin aren't direct substitutes. Cumin is more pungent and earthy, so if used in place of coriander, I recommend using about half the amount and adding a touch of citrus zest or fennel seed to restore brightness.
India is a country with countless regional specialties, each with its own history, culture, and unique use of spices. I wanted our guests to experience that variety and feel as though they were traveling across India one meal at a time.
Soaked and blended, cashews become a stand-in for heavy cream, keeping stuffed shells, soups, pasta sauces, and desserts luxuriously dairy-free. Toasted and roughly chopped, they add crunch to salads, curries, stir-fries, and more. There are so many reasons to love cooking with these seeds-that's right, "cashew nut" is technically a misnomer, since they grow outside the fruit rather than inside a hard shell like true nuts.
When it comes to traybakes, chicken is the undisputed hero, because it's endlessly adaptable and perfect for carrying bold, global flavours. First up, some eastern Mediterranean chicken meatballs, flecked with feta and black olives for a sharp, savoury punch. Then a Persian-style saffron chicken and rice; the rice cooks with the chicken, absorbing all the flavours of the sunshine-yellow saffron and crisping up at the edges.
I have yet to see anyone eating mulligatawny in an Indian restaurant perhaps unsurprisingly, given that it's a product of the British occupation, and the very name has an off-putting Victorian feel, which is a shame, because it's aged a lot better than imperialism. Based, historians think, on the Madrassi broth molo tunny, it's a lovely, gently spiced winter soup that's well worth rediscovering. Prep 15 min Cook 50 min Serves 4-6
Pav bhaji, or Indian spiced mash, is a home cook's friend. It's not fussy, and it will take most leftover vegetables and transform them into something delicious. Add a squeeze of lemon, chopped onion and fresh herbs, and mop up with a butter-fried roll, just as the people of Mumbai do. The odd potato? No problem. A bit of cauliflower? Sure. Some peas from the freezer? Ideal! What you do need, however, is a secret weapon in the form of pav bhaji
Because my mom mainly learned to cook from my grandma Tina, I grew up eating renditions of Tina's recipes quite frequently. A Tina classic that always made the weekly rotation at our house was cauliflower and rice. It was a very simple soupy, porridge-y mix of cauliflower and rice cooked down in chicken stock. There wasn't much to it, but it always provided a homey sense of comfort.
