In India, I’d be celebrating with mounds of Goat Meat Biryani, Seviyan and Shammi Kebabs. Our Hindu family never missed an opportunity to celebrate in style, irrespective of the religion in question.

But 12 years of living in London later I’ve resigned myself to missing out as my family indulge themselves back home.

As fate would have it, I got a chance to do something a bit special myself this year. Asian Woman magazine got in touch, requesting festive Eid recipes. I immediately got thinking about how to simplify a Biryani without compromising method, taste or authenticity.

And Seafood Biryani was born. It uses pricey fresh seafood. And, be warned, the fatty ghee. But this is a festive treat people. Leaving ghee out would be like cooking Christmas turkey in a George Foreman Grill.

Serve this with a simple Raita and Firni for a decadent meal inspired by a real celebration.

Feeds 4:

• 1 large onion
• 5 tbsp ghee
• Salt to taste

For the seafood:

• 100 gm squid, sliced
• 100gm monkfish tails
• 100 raw shelled king prawns
• 1 tsp coriander powder
• 1 tsp cumin powder
• Half tsp turmeric powder
• 2 pinches freshly grated nutmeg
• 2 garlic cloves
• Half inch ginger
• 1 green chilli
• 10 sprigs fresh coriander
• 1 tsbp thick yogurt

For the rice

• 250gm Basmati rice
• 1 brown cardamom
• 1 inch cinnamon
• 6 cloves
• 6 whole black peppers
• 1 pinch freshly grated nutmeg
• 2 tbsp milk
• 10 strands saffron

Warm the milk in a microwave for 20 seconds and leave the saffron to soak in it. In a blender, blitz the yogurt, coriander leaves, ginger, garlic and green chillies with two tablespoons of water.

Next bring two tablespoons of ghee to heat in a large frying pan over a high flame and slice the onions. When the oil is hot, add a third of the onions and stir for a minute until it becomes pale golden.

Then add the masala paste and all the powders and stir for anoher five minutes until all the spices turn to a darker shade of green. If the spices get stuck to the bottom of the pan, just add a little hot water to rescue it.

The raw smell of the spices will give way to a lovely delicate aroma. Grate in the fresh nutmeg, add salt to your taste and stir in the fresh seafood. As the prawns start turning pink, turn the flame off and leave the mix to sit.

Now turn the oven to 210 degree centigrade (190 for fan assisted) while you make the rice. Wash the rice under a cold tap until the water runs clear. In a large pot, bring another tablespoon of ghee to heat over a high flame. When it starts sizzling, add in the whole spices. Then measure the washed rice into a mug and stir it in.

In a few seconds of stirring, the rice will turn brilliant white. Nw measure twice as much hot water as rice in the same mug and add to the rice. Bring the mixture to a boil, then lower to a simmer and cook covered until nearly done. The rice should be swollen but still retain a bite. Strain it and set aside.

In the meantime, fry the remaining onion in another tablespoon of oil.

Finally assemble the Biryani. In a deep and round oven-safe bowl create an inch thick layer of rice. Arrange the seafood mixture on top. Then add another layer of rice to cover the seafood, scatter half the fried onions and one pinch of the nutmeg. Finish off with the remaining rice. Pour over the tablespoon of rose waterand the saffron milk and strands all over.

Seal tightly with foil and bake in the oven for 30 minutes. Serve hot with the fried onions.

Many years ago, the sight of vegetables made me green. Eating was a mindless chore. I was before my time with that perfect size zero figure. Which relatives took in turns to dismiss callously as “sickly” and “plain wrong”.

Fast forward to this. Lots of cooking, in my kitchen and beyond. I still have a softly, softly approach with vegetables though. I need some prodding to buy a new one and try it out. Kathryn’s series gave me a fresh and bold approach.

Zooming around a supermarket, I now slow down by the veggie counter. Trying to justify buying new and odd looking varieties with:

• Ooooh, that looks rude.
• That so matches the colour of the season.
• I wonder if that will taste better than it looks?

Then I bring it home. Cook it. Tell hubby it’s devastatingly bad for him. Which, in turn, endears him to it for life.

And that’s how I discovered broad beans. Quick research found it has a special affinity with aubergines. And Baingan Broad Bean Sabzi was born. I loved the buttery firm texture of the beans with the soft and sweet aubergines. Next time I’ll ditch the peeling and preparation required in favour of this recipe instead.

Now for another 29 ways to a better diet.

PS = This recipe is dedicated to my namesake Mallika, who nominated me as a Brilliant Weblog and requested an aubergine recipe.

Feeds 2-3:

• 200gm aubergine
• 50gm broad beans
• 1 medium tomato
• 1 small onion
• 1 tsp whole cumin
• Half tsp coriander powder
• Half tsp chilli powder
• Half tsp turmeric powder
• 2 tbsp oil
• Salt to taste

Soak the aubergine pieces in a bowl filled with cold water. This helps them cook quicker later. Next chop the onion into the little pieces and shell and peel the skin off the broad beans.

In a medium pot, bring the oil to heat over a high flame. When hot, add in the teaspoon of cumin and as it sizzles up, chuck in the onions. Fry these for two minutes until the onions turn pale brown.

Now stir in the aubergine with the remaining masala powders and half a teaspoon of salt. Mix the whole lot together thoroughly, lower the flame and cover for two minutes. The aubergines will have softened slightly and shrunk.

Next, chop in the tomato and replace the cover until the aubergines are almost cooked. I just popped a little piece in my mouth to check. You need to keep stirring every minute to prevent it from getting stuck to the bottom.

Finally stir in the beans and simmer for another two minutes until they are soft to the touch. Check for salt and serve hot. I ate this with a 10 minute chicken curry and some Basmati rice for weekday lunch while working from home.

I sat at work with double vision, editing draft 25 of a report that was once interesting. Contemplating professional suicide by staging an untimely walk out.

There were two options. I could tell my line manager where to shove her Earth-shatteringly important document. Or I could vent my frustration through a reassuringly fiddly Methi Murgh at home.

I chose the second option. You may wonder why I didn’t choose to order a takeaway. Vegetate in front of the TV. Dream about my next holiday in bright sunshine.

But there is something strangely therapeutic about hacking an onion into little bits, skinning chicken pieces and beating tomatoes into pulp. Violent, moi?

One hour of no thinking about work and the result was a thick and delicious Punjabi Dhaba-style Chicken curry, packed with the wholesome goodness of sweet fresh tomatoes and bitter fenugreek.

Next time you want to tell your boss where to go…

PS = Just as I finished licking my plate clean a terrific recipe for Methi Murgh popped up on Zaika. Great minds think alike. Although her’s was in a more positive frame.

Feeds 2:

• 4 skinned chicken thighs or drumsticks (600-700gm)
• 2 ripe medium tomatoes
• 1 large onion
• 1 inch ginger
• 4 cloves garlic
• 2 tbsp thick yogurt (Greek works best)
• 4 cardamoms
• 6 black peppercorns
• 1 inch cinnamon
• 1 tsp whole cumin
• Half tsp chilli powder
• Half tsp turmeric powder
• 50 gm fresh fenugreek leaves or methi
• 2 tbsp oil
• Salt to taste

Chop the onion into little pieces. Peel the ginger and garlic. In a small food processor, puree the tomatoes together with the ginger and garlic.

Next, dry roast the whole spices in an oven for a five seconds or on a flat frying pan. Grind them into a fine powder. I used a coffee grinder.

Wash the fenugreek throughly under a cold tap and remove any hard stalks. Then set a large pot with one tablespoon to heat over a high flame. When the oil is hot, add the onions and fry for five minutes stirring constantly until it turns pale brown.

Then add the spice powder and stir for another two minutes. If it starts getting stuck on the bottom of the pan, just add a little bit of hot water and scrape off.

Now add the pureed tomatoes mixture and cook for 10 minutes, stirring regularly, then mix in the yogurt. The masala with thicken and start to get stuck on the sides of the pot. No panic, just add a little more hot water. When the masala darkens and it’s pungent smell goes, add salt to taste and then go in with a hand blender to puree it to a smooth mixture. This isn’t absolutely necessary but it gives you that restaurant finish.

In goes the chicken next, which you need to brown on either side mixing in the masala well. Then add hot water next to submerge the chicken, lower the flame slightly to a medium high and cook until it’s cooked. This takes a good 20-25 minutes. Just make sure you keep stirring from time to time so it doesn’t burn.

When you feel the chicken is almost ready, fry the fenugreek leaves in a small saucepan with the remaining tablespoon of oil until wilted and a darker shade of green. Then mix them into the chicken curry, lower the heat and simmer for two minutes. When oil floats to the top, your Methi Murgh is ready.

This dish is perfect with a simple dal and steaming hot basmati rice.

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.

Feeds 15-20:

• 1kg frozen spinach
• 1kg frozen peas
• 7 large white potatoes
• 2 tbsp cornflour
• 3 inches ginger
• 40gm fresh coriander leaves
• 3 green finger chillies
• Salt to taste
• 3 tbsp oil

Cook the peas and spinach according to pack instructions or simmer in boiled water for 5 minutes each until soft. Peal, quarter and boil the potatoes until they fall apart when prodded with a fork.

Drain the spinach of water by squeezing it well in your hands. Then put all the vegetables in a large mixing bowl and leave to cool.

Next peel the ginger and mince with the green finger chillies. Chope up the coriander and add all three ingredients to the mixing bowl with the cornflour, and salt to your taste. Mash the whole lot together with your hands. Check for salt and add more if needed.

Stick this mixture in your fridge to cool and dry out until you’re ready to cook the Tikkis. When you are, preheat the grill to a high heat and line a baking sheet with kitchen foil. Take one tablespoon of oil and spread it evenly on the base of the tray.

Then make even-sized balls with the mixture, flatten them to shape 1.5 inch discs and place them on the tray leaving a small gap between each. Cook for 12 minutes on each side until the Tikkis are pale brown on both sides.

You need to be careful when flipping them over as they’ll be soft to the touch and hot. If they fall apart, just shape them again in the tray. Needless to say, you could just shallow fry them but this will take longer and use more oil.

Repeat with another batch until all the mixture is used up. As you leave them on a platter to cool, they will harden and hold together better.

I served these cold with Dhaniya Pudina chutney and they were a huge hit.

Living with seven million people is so my thing. Sharing a weekend with most of them and tourists on rubbish-strewn West London streets totally isn’t.

We shoved a duvet, an aunt, one brother, chocolate and home-made Tandoori Chicken into the car and drove off to an idyllic Cambridge village to visit another brother.

The BBQ was ready for my glistening red chicken portions. I stood in a cloud of dark smoke, basting them with a mix of lime juice and vegetable oil. While Harry the dog and the relatives took it in turns to pace around the BBQ.

The result was soft, juicy, full of flavour. Worth every smokey moment. And escaping London for.

PS = To enjoy Tandoori Chicken properly I recommend using a tandoor or BBQ. You could grill it, but that wonderful charcoal smoked flavour will be MIA.

Feeds 8:

• 8 Chicken leg portions, 250 gm each
• 16 garlic cloves
• 4 inches ginger
• 4 tsp coriander seeds
• 2 tsp whole cumin seeds
• 1 tbsp meat tenderiser
• 2 tsp dried fenugreek leaves
• 2 tsp chilli powder
• 250gm plain yogurt
• Juice of 1 lime
• 1 tsp red food colouring
• 4 tbsp vegetable oil
• Salt to taste

Skin the chicken, make two sideways slits – on the thigh and on the leg – and place in a rectangular dish.

Peel the ginger, garlic and whizz into a smooth paste with the whole seeds and half the yogurt in a food processor. Add the rest of the yogurt, the chilli powder, meat tenderiser, fenugreek, colouring and salt to the food processor bowl and mix well.

Check it for salt. You want this marinade to be overpowering in every way – salty, spicy, bitter – because the BBQ will soften the taste.

Now, smother the chicken leg portions with this marinade making sure every one of them is well coated. Then chill until you’re ready for the BBQ. I left it overnight but a few hours will be plenty.

When it’s on the tandoor or BBQ, mix the oil and lime juice together and baste the chicken portions twice during cooking. They will take a good half an hour to be ready, but make sure you open one up and check that the chicken juices run clear (not pink) before feeding people!

Tandoori chicken is perfect just on it’s own. But feel free to serve it with a lemony mixed salad and some hot naan.

So last minute the BBQ, the aptly-named Outback, had to be transported from the communal garden to his three square feet balcony on the second floor of our building.

This threw my party trick into total disarray. Sausages and burgers would work just fine on the billowing monster. But my tandoori chicken was clearly out of the question unless our neighbours fancied masala upholstery.

I took a chance on Lamb Seekh Kebabs. If anything was going to impress the 30 grown men and women, it was this.

But by the time I shaped them, had a shower and slipped on a ra ra miniskirt, the party was in full swing. Mounds of food lay all over the table. The crowd were more interested in the vodka on tap than soft, buttery kebabs of Mughal origin.

I sneaked off later, slyly taking the platter of kebabs back downstairs with me. Turned the grill on. Cooked a few to perfection. And ate them with copious amounts of Dhaniya Pudina Chutney and tomato ketchup.

Even the best-laid plans…

Makes 15:

• 1kg lamb mince
• 12 cloves garlic
• 3 inches ginger
• 25gm fresh coriander
• 25gm fresh mint
• 3 tsp garam masala
• 1.5 tsp chilli powder
• Half tsp freshly ground nutmeg
• 1 egg
• 2 tsp salt
• 15 skewers (bamboo or metal)

Peel the ginger, garlic and remove the hard stalk ends on the mint and coriander. Beat the egg in a little bowl.

In a food processor, whizz the ginger, garlic, fresh coriander and mint together with one quarter of the mince and half the egg. You want to grind the meat to a creamy smooth paste. Then remove this into a large mixing bowl and blitz another quarter of the meat with the remaining egg.

Now, add in the remaining meat in the mixing bowl with the spices and salt and go in with your fingers mixing the whole lot. You want the ground meat and the mince to integrate well together so no one notices that you cheated by not grinding half the mince.

Cover this bowl and chill for about an hour or more if you can. I had a quick beauty sleep.

When you’re ready to go, dampen your hand and divide the mixture into 15 even size lumps. A moist hand will prevent the mixture from sticking to your hands. Then take each lump and shape it like a sausage around each skewer. Keep wetting your palm to make this process really easy.

Finally BBQ or grill on a high flame for 20 minutes turning every 5 minutes to ensure even cooking. Enjoy piping hot with a green chutney. Preferably in the company of friends…

I told everyone about my grandmother’s famous parathas or shallow fried, stuffed flatbreads. In my childhood I ate these as breakfast. Post my fruit and green tea deskbound breakfasts in London, mid-day is the earliest I can face these now.

Next morning, the weather was equally rubbish. Half a bag of carrots and 4 small radishes were lying aimlessly in the fridge. And the sack of chappati flour in the cupboard was well by its best by date too.

Fancy that?

My love of kneading is well-documented. I rank it as one of my most hated activities, second only to standing in a blizzard on one leg. But the options were limited. And I didn’t fancy getting soaked again to top up the sorry contents of my fridge.

So I made gajar (carrot) parathas and mooli (radish) parathas for the first time. And I was pleasantly surprised with the results. It didn’t take long. The dough came off my nails fairly easily. And the parathas were as moreish and comforting as my nani’s.

Not just for rainy days then…

Feeds 2:

Carrot filling

• 2 small carrots
• 1 tsp fresh lime juice
• Quarter tsp chilli powder
• Salt to taste

Radish filling

• 4 small radishes
• Quarter inch ginger
• 1 green chilli
• 4 sprigs fresh coriander, chopped
• Salt to taste

Parathas

• 250 gm strong wholemeal or chapatti flour
• 4 tbsp Greek yogurt
• Hot water, as needed
• 1 tsp salt
• 4 tbsp oil

Heat the yogurt in a microwave for 30 seconds until warm. This helps break the four down. You can do this on the cooker also or just use room temperature yogurt. Traditionally, only water is used for kneading but my ageing chapatti flour could use the softening.

In a medium mixing bowl, add the flour and salt. Mix in the yogurt half at a time. Go in with your finger and mix well until the flour resembles biscuit crumbs. You want to keep breaking it down like this when you add the rest of the yogurt. Then add tiny bits of hot water, punching the dough with your knuckles on every side until you get a smooth dough that doesn’t stick to your fingers.

If it sticks to your fingers, you’ve added too much water so just chuck in a bit more flour. This part wasn’t problematic. Now keep kneading or punching the dough backwards and forwards for at least two minutes. The more you beat it, the softer it’ll be later.

Next, cover with a moist cloth (damp kitchen towel in my instance) and keep aside. Next, make the stuffing.

Grate the carrot and mix with the stuffing ingredients. Then cover and microwave or sauté for two minutes. Repeat the process in another bowl with the radish and ginger mix ingredients.

Finally, uncover the dough mix and in your palms shape it into a thick sausage and break into four equal parts. Sprinkle a flat chopping board with extra flour, then roll the dough lump into a ball, flatten and use a rolling pin to create a disc the size of a small tea saucer.

Spoon two teaspoons of the carrot mix into the centre and bring the ends together like a parcel to seal it. Then dip the parcel in the flour, flatten and roll out into a even half centimetre round shape. Don’t worry if the filling starts oozing out. This is the way it’s meant to be.

Now, put a flat tawa or frying pan to heat over a medium flame with the tablespoon of oil. When the oil is sizzling, place the rolled out bread on top and fry for two minutes on either side until dark brown sport appear. If the oil dries up, just add a tiny extra bit to the sides of the paratha.

While it’s cooking, get cracking with the next dough ball and repeat until you have four, devilishly soft, moreishly tasty parathas. Serve hot off the tawa with a large dollop of plain yogurt and some pickle.

We weave through the aisles bickering about sell by dates and yogurt brands. Fight at the checkout about whose turn it is to pack/pay. Then arrive home with half the essentials missing.

This week it was different. As I turned the herb corner, I spotted bags of new Indian ingredients in my local supermarket.

Curry leaves? Okra? Aisle 2? Eternal bliss!

A silly smile crept on my face and stayed on. Despite the promotional 24-pack beer carton and ready-roasted battery chicken portion being loaded by the man into the trolley.

I entrusted the man with acquiring a bag of fresh frozen grated coconut from the Chinese store by his gym. He brought back fresh frozen shredded coconut instead.

I got to work on a recipe that was guaranteed to keep the smile on my face – soft and flavourful Nariyal Bhindi or Coconut Okra (Ladyfinger). Until the next supermarket trip…

Feeds 4-6:

• 200gm grated or shredded coconut
• 700 gm okra (ladyfinger)
• 2 tsp coriander powder
• 2 tsp cumin powder
• 1 tsp turmeric powder
• Half tsp chilli powder
• Half tsp garam masala
• 3 tbsp oil
• Salt to taste

Wash the okra in a colander under a cold water tap and leave to dry. This will get rid of the slime inside. I just left it by the cooker for 15 minutes. When it’s dry, slice off the tip and the ends and cut each one into 1.5 cm pieces.

In a wok or large frying pan, heat two tablespoons of oil over a high flame. When it is hot, stir in the sliced okra and all the powders apart from the garam masala.

Stir fry for five minutes taking care not to break the okra. Then mix in the remaining oil and coconut, salt to your taste and fry for another two minutes until the spices are mixed through.

Now lower the flame to medium, add about three to four tablespoons of hot water, cover and cook for about five to 10 minutes until the grated coconut has softened. If the water dries up early just add two tablespoons more at a time.

Finally mix in the garam masala, salt and serve hot as a side dish with curry.

Normally, I am the focused, sensible sort. But given a choice between dangling my legs mid air and watching succulent cuts of meat cook outdoors, I knew which way to go.

I fretted all the way to the yoga class. Sulked as the instructor didn’t show on time. Then 20 minutes of waiting, I hurried home via the supermarket praising divine intervention.

In an ideal world I would get more notice for a BBQ. But this is Britain. We don’t notice we’ve had summer until it’s long gone.

Carpe Diem!

I slashed a few chicken drumsticks and smothered them with a roasted cumin marinade. Made a rice pulao to accompany it. Shoved the whole lot with a jar of mango pickle into a large Selfridge’s bag and dashed downstairs before the flames went out.

The mini meal was a big success. I’m waiting for my next invitation. Hopefully, before summer runs out.

PS= They ate the whole lot before I could photograph the food. I had to cook it again and grill the lot. Your BBQ version will be a lot darker (from the charcoal) and drier (ditto). But it will taste delicious anyway.

Jeera murgh kebab

Feeds 3-4:

• 6 chicken drumsticks
• 75gm onion
• 15gm fresh coriander
• 3 tsp whole cumin
• 4 cloves garlic
• 1 inch ginger
• Half a lemon
• 2 tbsp thick yogurt
• 2 green chillies
• 1 tsp oil
• Salt to taste

Turn the grill on to a high flame (210 Degree C). Skin the drumsticks, make two deep sideways gashes on each of them and place in a mixing bowl.

Now place the whole cumin on a baking tray and dry grill for about 20 seconds until you can smell them. Remove and place in a food processor along with the peeled onion, ginger, garlic and all the other ingredients. Puree until smooth and add salt to make it a really strong marinade.

Add the marinade to the mixing bowl and leave to rest. Grill or BBQ turning at least two times until the meat has lifted away from the bone.

My top tip is to fry up any leftover marinade with a tablespoon of oil to turn it into a chutney for the kebabs. Mix with a bit of yogurt to get the dipping consistency of your choice.

Channa dal pulao

• 40gm channa lentils
• 350gm basmati rice
• 20 curry leaves
• 1 tsp mustard seeds
• 1 tsp cumin seeds
• Half tsp turmeric powder
• Sprinkle of asafoetida
• 1 tbsp oil
• Salt to taste

Soak the channa lentils in cold water. Wash the rice thoroughly under the tap until the water runs clean.

In a medium pot, bring the oil to heat over a high flame. When it is hot, add the asafoetida, cumin and mustard seeds. Give them a stir and throw in the curry leaves. As this lots sizzle up and releases its heady aromas, stir in the channa dal and the turmeric.

Stir the channa dal for a few seconds until it contracts. Next mix in the washed rice and stir for about a minute. The rice will turn bright and opaque. When it does, add a pint of boiling water and stir once.

Bring it back to the boil and then lower the flame to a gentle simmer, cover and cook until all the water is absorbed. This takes about 20 minutes.

This rice is delicious hot or cold. We ate it with the chicken kebabs and mango pickle.

I sat around doing nothing. Feasting on Ostrich steak and home made apple strudel. Every offer of washing up, cooking and tidying being brutally rejected.

I felt stuffed. Indulged. Empty.

Three further consecutive meals out and I simply had to reinstate myself in the kitchen with a reassuringly fiddly though easy recipe.

Fish fry is what I settled on – a traditionally deep fried, spicy, breaded fish fillet. In my kitchen, they would be grilled.

So I changed into a comfy pair of shorts, took one last look at my fluorescent manicured fingernails and plunged into an assembly line of fish marinade and coatings.

Ten minutes of dipping, patting and 20 minutes of grilling and felt complete again. Now, when’s my next dinner party?

Feeds 2:

• 275gm or 2 skinless and boneless white fish fillets (I used Basa, Cod works well too)
• 2 green finger chillies
• 75gm white onion
• 3 garlic cloves
• 1 inch ginger
• 1 tsp salt
• 1 egg
• 100gm plain flour
• Breadcrumbs
• 2-3 tbsp oil

In a blender puree the onion, green chillies, ginger and garlic together with the salt. Coat each fillet on both sides with this marinade and leave to sit.

Now, establish the assembly line. First, turn the grill on to a high heat (220 degrees centigrade normal or 200 degrees centigrade fan assisted).

Then line a flat baking tray that’ll fit your fillets with kitchen foil and smooth the oil on top of it. Next, in a flat bowl whip up the egg, and add half the flour on one plate and four tablespoons of breadcrumbs on another.

Line the flour, egg, breadcrumbs and baking tray up on the cooker. Now cut each fish fillet into half through the middle, widthwise.

Dip each side of it into the flour patting to coat evenly so no onion mixture is exposed. Then the egg and finally the breadcrumbs. You need to make sure that it coats evenly each time and then lay on the baking tray.

Repeat this process until you have four breaded fish fillets. Then grill, flipping over to the other side mid way, for 20 minutes until you have golden brown and crisp fish fillets.

Try this with fresh lemon wedges, a summer salad and some tomato chutney for a quirky and healthy TV meal.