Quick Indian Cooking

This was the longest birthday celebration ever. On the eve of the big day, my client took a colleague and me to a night out at Cirque du Soleil.

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.
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Turns out early January is the best time to throw a party. I sent out 50 invites expecting lame excuses like diets, detox and depression. Instead I got back 45 RSVPs.

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.
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This post is long overdue. While still in Cambridge, we packed a large number of canvas bags with food and alcohol and made our way to an open air theatre.

We tucked into smoked salmon sandwiches, pasta salad, little cakes and my Hariyali Tikkis – pea, spinach and potato croquettes. And then the play began.

The actors ranted and raved on stage, delivering dialogues like a off-target arrows. A bizarre, masked fairy dance broke up the delirium. A surreal pantomime and tango performance weaved their way into the improvised script. Sending the audience into peals of laughter.

This was Midsummer Night’s Dream?

Funnily enough, I’d lost my sense of humour. It was freezing cold. I was in the middle of nowhere. Dressed ridiculously in my Dorothy-esque red kitten heels and borrowed fleece. Watching a bunch of monkeys butchering Shakespeare. While cows mooed in the fields beyond.

The final straw was when the actors requested picnic leftovers at the end of the performance. The cheek! While Shakespeare was turning in his grave! I grabbed the six leftover Hariyali Tikkis and ran to the car before anyone could say “wherefore art thou”.

Inspired by this recipe, the Tikkis tasted much better than they looked, were super healthy and not too painstaking to make for 17 people. I used frozen spinach and peas but you could just as well use the fresher variety.

They were the true stars of the evening, if you ask me.
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It hasn’t been all frilly frocks and silly shoes. I’ve had bigger, more important things on my mind.

Like food wastage. Is it just me or is there a lot being written about it lately?

I’ve been gripped because I care deeply about food wastage. But both time and my brain cells fail occasionally. And there is a point of no return when it comes to even the best of ingredients.

So when I got back from work and opened the fridge to rescue the soon to go green rump steak, the leftover cheese and white bread stared right back at me. I was racked with guilt.

Shoving the steak in the oven to slow roast, I poured myself a G&T and got work on an old recipe from my maternal granny – Cheese Rolls. I virtually grew up on this teatime snack of chilli cheese and bread bites, which are filling and wonderfully addictive.

Also shallow fried. But what’s a few tablespoons of oil when you’re saving the world by default?

If that’s not enough try a simple pulao, vegetable sabzi or a great big curry that you can enjoy even more a day later.
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