Let me make a brief attempt to summarise the drama that has unfolded. Two main parties, both equally detested. Neither gets a straight majority. The result is Hung Parliament. The third political party, rises to prominence, in the bid to form a government.

Dithering political leaders are next locked in discussions about political and electoral reform at a time when the economy is in the doldrums. People’s lives and livelihoods are at stake. The result: the most unlikely political marriage in the history of the nation.

Let’s hope this one doesn’t end up in the divorce courts.

Of course, I am no expert. But given this was the first General Election that I have ever voted in, it certainly got my blood boiling. I decided to stay cool with a spot of summer cooking. With a Bhindi Raita – that’s spiced and chilled savoury yogurt with okra or ladies’ fingers.

Bhindi’s are infamously slimy. The trick to banish slime is to wash them thoroughly in cold water before you slice them. Now, some may recommend lovingly wiping them dry but I just leave them to drip dry in a colander over a clean sink  while I get on with the rest of my cooking. Then slice and marvel.

The way to get the bhindi really crispy without using too much oil, I have discovered, is to coat them in a bit of oil and grill them rather than fry. Tossed into ice cold, stirred natural yogurt, these little beauties will delight whatever the week has dished up.

BHINDI RAITA

Feeds 4-6:

• 400gm okra
• 350gm low fat natural yogurt
• Half tsp turmeric powder
• Half tsp chilli powder
• 1 tsp whole cumin
• 1 tbsp oil
• Salt to taste (black salt if you have it)

Prepare the okra as above in my introduction. Preheat the grill to a medium setting.When it’s hot, grill the cumin on a baking tray for a few seconds, then crush into a fine powder and keep for later.

In a shallow rectangular dish, stir the yogurt with salt to your taste and leave to chill in the fridge. If using black salt, don’t add salt here.

Next mix the okra pieces with the chilli, turmeric and oil in a bowl. Place on a lined baking sheet in a single layer and grill for 8-10 minutes until sizzling and crispy.

When they are done, mix into the yogurt. Sprinkle the fresh cumin powder on top and half a teaspoon of black salt (if you are using it). Serve chilled as soon as possible.

See also DK’s Bread Raita, MD’s version of Bhindi Raita, and my personal favourites Cucumber Raita and Anda Raita.

Our babysitter suggested I had finally lost it.

I also started using a great, big, proper grown up food processor.

Now you may think this is odd. Especially for someone who cooks and writes about food. The truth is I have been joined at the hip with my trusted hand held food processor for eons. It’s dinky, safe and and finger proof. What’s not to like?

Then my man bought me a monstrous Magimix for returning to work after maternity leave. I became desperate for one. If it’s good enough for the great and the good of the celebrity chef world, it’s good enough for me.

Except, it scared me witless for the first few months. The fittings looked like weapons of mass destruction. The base weighed a ton. The manual didn’t appeal in its cling film packaging. Then I decided to improvise, stuck the small blade into the large bowl, and wondered why the damn thing was more noise less action.

I have to say, three months of playing with the thing later, I can’t live without it. I’ve been slicing onions, shredding carrots, mixing stuffing/croquettes and cooking this addictive, fresh, green Dhaniya Palak Pulao (check out this Pudina Dhaniya Chicken too).

My nails are still intact! Now for that dishwasher, double oven, triple cooker, kitchen island and Global knife set…

Feeds 4

• 350gm rice (uncooked)
• 50gm fresh coriander
• 50gm fresh spinach
• 4 garlic cloves
• 1 inch cinnamon stick
• 1 bay leaf
• 4 green cardamoms
• 1 tbsp ghee
• Salt to taste

Puree the fresh coriander and spinach in a food processor with two or three tablespoons of water. If you don’t have a food processor, just chop them finely. Chop the garlic finely.

Rinse the rice well with cold water. Take a medium pot and bring the ghee to heat in it on high.

When it’s hot, add the cloves, cinnamon, cardamoms, and bay leaf and as they sizzle up, the chopped garlic. When the garlic turns a pale golden, measure the rice first into a mug, next stir it in and fry for a minute.

Then mix in the green paste, add 1.5 times as much hot water as the rice, measured in the same mug. Bring to a boil, lower the flame to simmer, cover and cook for about 10-12 minutes until all the water is absorbed and the rice is cooked.

Serve this with yogurt and pickle for a really simple lunch or as a side for some grilled chicken or pork.

Some of you know that I started this blog to prove that if I, with my full on life, general inability to be organised and propensity for destruction in the kitchen, could cook Indian food then so could anybody else.

Four years since, my campaign for curry is gathering pace. In the meantime, a brave new world of digital and social networking has blissfully passed me by.

The man of the moment is my one and only blog guru and free audio kids stories supremo. I told him the site looked dull and dated. He reminded me that I had picked the colours and meddled with his ideas.

So this time we both decided over Kashmiri Paneer, Chicken Pulao and red wine that we should ask you, the esteemed reader, what you think. What makes your blood boil every time you arrive here? What makes your heart soar? Pray, tell, what can I do to make it better for you?

Feeds 4:

• 225gm paneer
• 1 tbsp tomato puree
• 250gm thick plain yogurt (Greek is best)
• 1 tsp paprika or Kashmiri chilli powder
• 1 black cardamom
• 1 bay leaf
• Half inch ginger
• 5 skinned almonds
• 1 tbsp oil
• Salt to taste

Finely chop the ginger. Puree the almonds with two tablespoons of the yoghurt and then mix into with the tomato puree and paprika.

Cut the paneer into large pieces, like in the picture. Frankly, you can cut it up any way you want. It doesn’t matter. But it does look more special like this.

In a large frying pan or medium kadai, bring the oil to heat on high. When it starts sizzling, add the bay leaf and cardamom. When they start spluttering, add the ginger.

As the ginger turn golden, lower the flame to and stir in the yoghurt mixture. Leave this to simmer for about 20 minutes, until the masala takes on a rich orange hue and oil starts oozing to its surface.

Just stir in the paneer at this stage for five minutes. When it softens, serve and eat straightaway. This was especially lovely the next day when the paneer had a chance to lie around in the masala.  

1 black cardamom

In the meantime, UK’s Channel 4 gave us Indian Winter. A classic example of how the Western media stereotypes India with one clean sweep. We are all slumdogs. Naturally.

The posters were enough to send shudders down my spine. A celebrity chef, most famous for the excessive use of the F-word squatting on a railway platform amidst turbans, saris and drums. Shame they forgot magic carpets, snake charmers and a couple of Maharajahs.

Then I saw the line up. There’s a Hindi movie or two. A building design TV presenter to tell us why slums are wonderful. And the chef will learn about the, hold your breath, staggering diversity of Indian food. Shock, horror, he also learns how to make a samosa from scratch.

Just for the record, I don’t know anyone who makes a samosa from scratch in India. But why invite an Indian to help the creative process? I could go on, but I couldn’t put it better than this or indeed this.

Perhaps someone should inform Channel 4 that there’s more to India than slums and samosas. Like this quick fix, mid-week lamb pulao. Soft and spicy, it’s anything but a bitter pill to swallow.

Feeds 2:

• 250gm basmati rice
• 250gm diced boneless lamb (neck fillets or shoulder work well)
• 1 large onion
• 4 garlic cloves
• 1 inch ginger
• 2 tbsp thick yoghurt (Greek or any other whole milk)
• Whole spices: 4 cloves, 1 bay leaf, 4 whole black peppers, 1 inch cinnamon
• Half tsp turmeric powder
• Half tsp chilli powder
• Half tsp garam masala
• 1 tsp coriander powder
• 1 tsp cumin powder
• 2 tbsp flavourless oil

Finely chop or puree the ginger and garlic. In a bowl, mix together the diced lamb, yoghurt, turmeric, chilli and ginger garlic.

While it sits, slice the onion. Heat a large pan to high with a tablespoon of oil. When it’s hot, add the whole spices and as soon as they start sizzling fry three quarters of the onion for five minutes.

Now, mix in the meat and marinade, the coriander and cumin. Fry on the high heat for five minutes to brown the meat. If the masala mixture starts sticking to the bottom of the pan, just add a little hot water and scrape to release.

Next add half a cup of water, cover and leave the meat to cook on the high heat. You’ll need to stir every 5-10 minutes to make sure the meat doesn’t burn but this way it’ll be tender soft in half an hour. Woo hoo.

While the meat is bubbling away, cook the rice as you normally would. Or use my highly scientific method.

I mean who knew one shot of vodka was 25ml? Everyone has a tequila glass!

And why would anyone who buys a cookbook written by yours truly expect to find a recipe for home made ghee in it? I’d rather spend the time trimming my hair with a nail clipper, thank you very much.

Meanwhile, the summer barbeque season has truly kicked off. I’ve also been drinking copious amounts of Rose wine, while billowing barbeques blow sausage smoke through my carefully crafted locks.

True to form, I’ve been saving time, effort and precious brain cells these days by making the same kebab for every barbeque I’ve attended. The juicy, skewered Chicken Reshmi Tikka has been reeled out on three occasions causing quite a sensation. It’s dead easy to make with readily-available ingredients.

Look out for the meat tenderiser powder that goes into it at supermarkets. It’s totally natural and works a treat to soften even the hardest pieces of meat. Perfect for quick fix marinades when every second counts.

Makes 15 skewers:

• 1.5 kg chicken breasts (about 15)
• 15 cloves garlic
• 5 inches ginger
• 3 tbsp coriander powder
• 3 tbsp chilli powder
• 3 tbsp meat tenderiser
• 200ml double cream (I know, I know… but this feeds 15)
• 250gm natural Greek yogurt
• 15 bamboo or metal skewers
• Salt to taste

Chop finely or puree the ginger and garlic together. Take a large mixing bowl and mix in all the ingredients. Add salt to your taste. Remember, the marinade needs to be fairly salty as the barbeque will burn some of it away.

Now cut the chicken into large bite-sized chunks. The best way to do this is cut off the tail end of each chicken breast first and then halve lengthwise each piece and chop through the width. Add th chicken pieces into the marinade bowl. Mix together well.

Leave this to sit covered for at least an hour and up to three hours. When you’re ready to eat, thread the chicken pieces onto the skewers (5-6 chicken pieces for each). Then cook on a sizzling but not smoky barbeque for 20 minutes turning regularly to ensure even cooking.

If the weather’s pants or you don’t have a barbeque, you could just cook the lot in two batches under a hot grill for the same amount of time. Serve on a bed of fresh sliced onions drizzled with some chilli powder, lemon juice and salt. Many times.

All blingtastic, I was going to attend the lunchtime launch of Spooning with Rosie, my friend Rosie Lovell’s book. The lovely Rosie runs a deli cafe in trendy Brixton. Vintage dresses and unshaven faces were going to rub shoulders amidst mounds of quality cheese, loafs of bread and stacks of her cupcakes.

The anticipation was immense as I dressed mini Basu in a co-ordinated romper. Rosie’s cookbook is a sensational tome brimming with eclectic recipes that nod to London’s vibrant cafe culture. That aside it featured my Bhapa Doi Bengali cheesecake recipe with a mention of yours truly.

Several glasses of wine and hours of mingling later, I couldn’t wait to get stuck into a semi-complicated recipe that matched the dizzying heights I had reached. It was going to be Kofta Curry, soft spicy meatballs in a tomato base.

I mixed the Kofta or meatballs before going to bed. Cooked the dish the following day. Scooped the finished lot into a bowl. Just in time for my hungry dad’s arrival. This experienced cook was not going to be easy to please. “So how is it”, I asked, waiting for the lavish praise.

“Delicious”, he replied. And just as I was about to mutter a thanks, he added: “You could have cooked the masala a bit more.”

Nothing like family to keep you grounded. Here’s the perfected recipe for when you want to show off. Best served with a pinch of humility.

PS = I made this with beef mince but you could just as easily substitute it with lamb.

Feeds 4:

For the kofta:

• 500gm beef mince
• 1 tsp chilli powder
• Half tsp turmeric powder
• 2 tsp coriander powder
• 2 tsp cumin powder
• 2 eggs
• 1 tsp salt

For the curry:

• 1 large onion
• 400gm tin chopped tomatoes
• 1 inch cinnamon
• 1 bay leaf
• 4 garlic cloves
• 1 inch ginger
• 1 tsp paprika
• Half tsp chilli powder
• Half tsp garam masala
• 10 sprigs fresh coriander
• 2 tbsp oil
• Salt to taste

Mix all the kofta ingredients together and stick in the fridge. It needs a good hour, but I did this before going to bed and left it in the fridge until I was ready to cook.

When you’re ready to make the curry, halve the mince mixture and fashion it into two large sausages. Then break off equal pieces and roll them into largish balls on a chopping board and leave to sit.

Chop the onion, ginger and garlic finely. Bring the oil to heat on high in a large non-stick pan. When it’s hot, chuck in the bay leaf and cinnamon. As they start sizzling, mix in the onion, ginger and garlic and fry until golden brown. This will take a good 10-15 minutes on a high heat.

If the mixture starts getting stuck to the bottom of the pan, add a little hot water and scrape off.

Next, add the paprika and chilli powders and fry for another two minutes. Then mix in the tin of tomatoes. You could use three large ripe and red chopped tomatoes if you prefer going fresh. Now let this masala mixture start bubbling, then lower the heat to a simmer and cook for 10 minutes.

At this stage, oil will start oozing through little pores in the mixture. When it does, gently lower the koftas into the curry. Cook for 10 minutes and then flip them over to the other side for another 10 minutes.

Alternatively you could grill them for the same amount of time under a medium heat and mix them into the curry. Leave the curry bubbling, just add a bit of water if it dries up.

Finally, add the garam masala, salt to taste and sprinkle chopped coriander. This was lovely with a hot roti that I bought in a store earlier.

Now curries I can cook. Sweets I can make. Cocktails I can mix. But baking is one art that has so far escaped me.

Still, I have a collection of cake trays from my efforts over the years. I even bought a retro black lacquer cake stand in the recent winter sales. One divine-looking recipe on the internet later I was ready for yet another attempt.

The warning bells went off when the chocolate orange cake batter didn’t taste remotely orangey. It failed to rise and go fluffy in the oven. And promptly collapsed into a biscuit on the wire rack when left to cook.

I bravely ganached the top and took it to the party anyway. The birthday girl hurt her elbow trying to cut the darn thing. The elderly uncles nearly chipped their teeth trying to eat it. And then, the bottom fell off the cake stand.

I might throw the rest of the cake at the next person who calls me a domestic goddess.

It was time to reinstate my faith in sweet things by trying my hand at something more in my comfort zone. I made a batch of Nariyal Burfis, soft and delicately-sweetened little coconut bites that are perfect for any occasion. They were divine. A few candles and perhaps it’ll be the perfect present for next week’s birthday girl.

Makes 16:

175gm dessicated coconut (unsweetened)
1 tin (397ml) condensed milk
10 cardamoms
2 tbsp ghee
Hot water

Soak the dessicated coconut in just about enough hot water to cover it. Bash the cardamoms with the flat side of a knife and crush the seeds.

In a medium pot, bring the ghee to heat over a high flame. When it’s hot, stir in the dessicated coconut and roast for 10 minutes until very pale cream in colour.

Then stir in the condensed milk, the cardamom powder and stir violently for another 10-15 minutes until all the mixture is dry. You need to make sure it doesn’t get stuck on the bottom of the pot.

Tip the whole mixture into a shallow square oven safe dish and leave to cool for a bit. Then stick the whole lot in the freezer to set for about half an hour. When the time’s up, loosen the edges and the bottom with a sharp knife, tip into a flat plate and cut into even-ish squares.

Refridgerate for later or eat immediately. If you’re feeling fancy, decorate with almond slivers and more crushed cardamoms.

An evening at a South Indian restaurant followed by the box office blockbuster Slumdog Millionaire was just the push I needed. I decided to give the soft and moreish Uttapams a try at home for weekend breakfast.

I made the batter with ready ground rice flour, and Urid (Black Matpe) dal whizzed to fine powder in my coffee grinder. Then left it to ferment overnight on Friday. By Saturday morning, I positioned myself an inch above the batter and spotted a few of the required little bubbles.

I set a frying pan to heat with oil. The first pancake got stuck solid on the ancient pan. The non-stick tawa or flat griddle pan worked better. Except the batter tasted raw even after what seemed like hours of frying. By this time, my pyjamas sported spilt batter in the most unlikely places.

I left the batter out for another night. Sunday morning and it was all bubbly, like the top of a milkshake. That’s fermentation. Perfect. I set the tawa to heat again. Made four delicious but overdone Uttapams, ate one while cooking, and finished cooking the lot just in time to get ready for pre-Chinese New Year Dim Sum.

Aaaaaaaargh.

I won’t share my excellent recipe on principle. But if you can plan two days ahead, this is the best I’ve found on the blogosphere. Here’s my super quick coconut chutney to make it all worthwhile.

Feeds 4:

• 50gm dessicated/fresh coconut
• Half tsp tamarind paste
• 1 small green finger chilli, chopped
• 10 sprigs of fresh coriander
• Half tsp mustard seeds
• 10 curry leaves
• 1 dry red chilli
• 1 tsp oil
• Salt to taste
  

Soak the dessicated coconut in half a pint of boiling water for five minutes and mix in the tamarind, chopped chilli and fresh coriander. Puree this in a blender until you get a smooth mixture.

If using fresh grated coconut, just use enough hot water to get a blended paste.

In a small pan, bring the oil to heat over a high heat. When it’s hot, chuck in the seeds, curry leaves and red chilli. As they splutter, mix this tadka into the coconut paste. Check for salt and serve alongside your uttapams (and maybe idlis and dosas?).

It was to celebrate the end of a major project – the development of a new luxury report followed by its global media launch. We had collectively spent months of blood, sweat and tears. Now it was time to let our hair down. In style.

We grabbed a glass of champagne and sandwich each and made our way to the red carpet box. As the acrobatics started, so did the assault on our senses.  With every air borne somersault, we clutched the edge of our seats. It was fresh, bold and full of punch.

Not unlike a Chaat, I thought to myself as we left the venue mesmerised by the production. [Do I never stop thinking about food??] These spicy and tangy snacks are the mainstay of street food vendors and tea parties back home. The word literally means “to lick” or relish. It’s impossible not to, with the explosion of flavours on offer.

I went out and bought Papdi (pronounce paap-ri), the flat flour biscuits, that are layered with boiled potatoes, yogurt to make Papdi Chaat. Spicy tamarind sauce, written about here by my friend Rosie, and coriander chutney give the dish a kick. Along with a sprinkling of pungent spices and topping of crushed crispy fried noodles or Sev.

Unlike the modern circus, this required no special skill. Just a specialist shopping trip.

Feeds 2-3:

• 16 Papdis
• 4 medium potatoes
• 500gm low fat natural yogurt
• 50gm little black chick peas or kala channa
• Half tsp chilli powder
• Half tsp black salt
• One tsp whole cumin
• Two tsp Sev or Bhujia

Coriander chutney

• 40gm or large handful of fresh coriander
• 1 green finger chilli
• Juice of 1 lime
• Salt to taste

Tamarind sauce

• 2 inch ball of tamarind
• 5 tbsp  boiling water
• 2 tsp brown sugar
• Half tsp black pepper
• Half tsp black salt

Soak the tamarind in the boiling water mixed with the sugar and rest of the spices. Next boil the potatoes and crush into little bite-sized pieces. I just peeled, chopped them and microwaved them covered for 7 minutes on high.

Next, puree the coriander with the rest of the chutney ingredients until you get a smooth paste. Strain the tamarind of its juices two times until you get a thick, sweet and sour sauce.

Now it’s a simple assembly job. Place the Papdis in a single layer on a plate. Spread the crushed potatoes  and kala channa on top, then pour over the whipped yogurt, sprinkle the spices, spoon the chutney and drizzle the tamarind sauce.

Finish with a sprinkling of the Sev or Bhujia and enjoy the colours, textures and flavours immediately before the Papdis soften. I served this with sparkling grape juice and birthday cake to a friend.

Oops.

I wasn’t quite planning to throw myself the biggest Indian-themed birthday party ever. Am I the only one who gets more excited about growing old, grey and wrinkly with every passing year?

Still, no time to back out now. Hubby and I made an urgent dash to stock up on an evening’s supply of champagne, spirits and vino. We sourced proper glasses from the merchant. And I dispatched him to buy my birthday cake, while I cleaned the new black lacquer cake stand and practiced my coy, surprised look to perfection in front of the mirror.

Food, of course, was on top of mind. I certainly wasn’t going to spend critical beauty-routine time to cook a three-party curry dinner or fashion three different kinds of kebabs. So I improvised on supermarket bought basics to dish up:

1. Cocktail sausages with a vindaloo glaze
2. Vol au vents with a keema filling inspired by Mandira
3. Cucumber and mint raita with mini naans

Hubby bought not just one, but two cakes. My Domestic Goddess friend and little sis arrived early to help. I downloaded the best play list since Now 71. And we had the best ever evening in months.

Mark Twain said “Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you don’t mind, it doesn’t matter.” Quite.

Feeds 40:

Vindaloo cocktail sausages

• 1 kg raw cocktail sausages
• 8 cloves garlic
• 1.5 inch ginger
• 2 tsps cumin seeds
• 2 tsp coriander seeds
• 2 tsps mustard seeds
• 5 dry red chillies
• 10 peppercorns
• 2 inches cinnamon
• 5 cloves
• Half cup cider or white wine vinegar
• Salt to taste

Grind all the spices together with the ginger, garlic and vinegar. Taste and add salt to your preference. Smother the cocktail sausages with this marinade and leave to sit for an hour or two.

Line a baking tray with foil and cook a layer of sausages under a medium hot grill for 10 minutes. Then turn over the sausages and cook for another 10 minutes. Discard any excess oil that escapes, saving the marinade, and spoon into microwaveable bowls or plates. When you’re ready to serve them out, reheat in the microwave for three minutes and bring out the tomato ketchup!

Keema Vol Au Vents

• 60 frozen Vol Au Vent cases or 8 sheets of puff pastry
• 1 egg
• 750gm beef or lamb mince
• 2 inch ginger
• 6 garlic cloves
• 1 large onion
• 2 tbsp tomato puree
• 2 tbsp Greek or thick yogurt
• 2 tsp coriander
• 2 tsp cumin
• 1.5 tsp chilli powder
• 1 tsp turmeric powder
• 1 tsp garam masala
• 25gm fresh coriander
• 2 tbsp oil
• Salt to taste

Make the keema filling first. Chope the nion, ginger and garlic finely and puree the ginger and garlic.

Bring the oil to heat over a high flame in a large pot. When it’s hot, fry the onion, ginger and garlic until golden brown. Then stir in the spice powders and fry for another five minutes until you can see oil appearing on the sides of the paste.

If the masala sticks to the bottom of the pot, just add a little hot water and scrape off. Now add the tomatoe puree and the yogurt and fry for another five minutes stirring viciously until it’s all well mixed. Next, add in the mincemeat and jab it with the spoon to brown it with the masalas.

Add half a cup of water and simmer for 20 minutes until the meat is cooked through. Finaly, stir in salt and the coriander leaves.

Before your guests arive, brush the vol au vent cases lightly with beaten egg. If using sheets of pastry, cut each one in 8 even rectangles and brush as above. Then cook for 15-20 minutes in a hot oven until puffed up and golden brown. Fill each pastry case with a tablespoon of keema, arrange on platters and wait until your guests arrive to impress.