Dressed in my grungiest outfit, I made it to a plant nursery with hubby in tow.

I wasn’t fooling anyone. Three cries of “look honey, basil/coriander/jasmine” later, a kindly salesperson walked over with a thinly-veiled smiled and asked how he could help.

We wanted a creeper. Preferably something that grew bushy and tall. Without regular watering, sunlight or attention.

Or soil for that matter. We were talking about a three square feet, moss-ridden balcony here.

Finally we settled for a medium hedge. I brought it back and shoved it into a planter aided by a cheese slicer, kitchen scissors and amused neighbours.

Greenfingers Day, thankfully, is an annual event in my home. But I hope summer is here to stay.

With the first warm days, raw mangoes have made it to my Indian grocer cum spice shop. I made a light, sweet and sour dal made with them called Tauk Dal. The dal-making technique here involves boiling the lentils in lots of water in one go to get a watery, light texture.

Enjoy this with Basmati rice and a cool glass of Rose Blush. Preferably while gazing out of the kitchen at your new, bushy hedge.

Feeds 2:

• 75 gm Masoor dal (red lentils)
• 1 raw green mango
• Half tsp Nigella/black onion seeds
• 2 green finger chillies, slit
• Half tsp turmeric powder
• 1 tsp sunflower oil
• Half tsp white sugar
• 1 tbsp sunflower oil

Wash the masoor dal thoroughly in a medium pot under a cold tap, until the water runs clear. Add cold water three-quarters up the side of the pot, mix in the turmeric and bring to boil on a high flame.

In the meantime, slice the mangoes lengthwise, quarter and peel off the skin with a sharp knife.

Make sure you watch the dal so it doesn’t boil over. If it starts bubbling up, take off the flame for a few seconds. Gently skim off and discard any foam that builds up.

The lentils will go soft and squidy in 20 minutes. The water will still be seperate from them. Now, make the tadka.

Heat the oil and when it starts sizzling, add the nigella seeds, the green chillies and the raw mangoes. Fry for a few seconds until the mango is sealed and pale brown on its side.

Mix this and the sugar into the dal for about five minutes, add salt to taste, and serve. The consistency will be light and wonderfully easy on the tummy.

I’ll be trying this delicious, South Indian version of mango dal next.

Now, this is a tragedy of epic proportions. There is only one thing I do better than Indian cooking.

Talking.

I sat at my desk, in silence. Simmering gently. With only grunts and sign language to communicate. One grunt, yes. Two grunts, no. Two fingers, leave me in peace.

Clients and colleagues heaped sympathy on me. The husband rushed to the pub to celebrate. I stared at 12 bullet points in despair. Only a simple Indian meal would now lift my spirits off the ditch outside the office.

It had to be chicken curry and rice. Even on a vocally agreeable day, chicken curry is pure genius in a large pot. It takes about 45 minutes to make, even quicker in my pressure cooker. I can make a massive amount of it with little extra effort. And any extras can be frozen for use during a later meal.

Ticks all my boxes for busy bee Indian cooking.

This wonderful, basic chicken curry recipe is from the Basu Kolkata kitchen and can be tweaked for variety with the addition of whole garam masala in the hot oil or some plain yogurt with the tomatoes.

There’s only one way to voice my satisfaction at the end of this meal. Grunt.

Feeds 2 (two times):

• 8 chicken thighs and drumsticks (about 750 gms)
• 3 medium tomatoes
• 2 large onions
• 4 fat cloves garlic
• 1 inch ginger
• 1 tsp chilli powder
• Half tsp turmeric powder
• 1.5 tsp cumin powder
• 1.5 tsp coriander powder
• 1 tsp garam masala
• Handful of fresh coriander
• 2 tbsp sunflower oil
• Salt to taste

Skin the chicken, roughly chop the onions and tomatoes, and finely dice the ginger and garlic. Heat a large, non-stick pan with the oil over a high flame. You could also use a pressure cooker.

When the oil is sizzling hot, add in the onions and fry for five minutes until pale gold and soft. Then throw in your ginger and garlic and keep frying for another five minutes until the whole lot is a darker shade of gold. If at any point the masalas start sticking to the bottom of the pan, just add a little water and scrape off.

Now mix in all the powders except garam masala, and the tomatoes. Keep frying this on a high heat for another five minutes until the tomatoes disintegrate and the pungent smell of the spices calms down to a softer fragrance.

Then, throw in your chicken, and stir like a maniac until it is white and coated with the masalas all over. Next, add just about enough hot water to submerge the chicken pieces, cover and cook on a high flame for 20 minutes until the chicken is cooked through. Just make sure you stir the chicken every five minutes or so.

If you use a pressure cooker, as I did, this takes about 6-7 minutes after the first whistle. But you won’t get a deep, red colour like the chicken curry in my new video.

Finally, stir in the garam masala, salt and a handful of fresh coriander. Serve with plain, steamed Basmati and a spicy pickle of your choice.

I popped paracetamol, drank red wine and danced furiously to electro Tango. It was Friday night.

The limp home was just the beginning. By next morning, my nostrils flared to the size of accordians. The only sensation I had left was the buzzing in my ears from oversized speakers.

I needed a rescue operation that would charge through me, bringing a sense of purpose back to where the five senses one used to be.

I chose Rasam. This potent, spicy and sour soup is of South Indian origin but drunk widely across the country. People swear by its ability to cure even the most dastardly colds, by setting the taste buds alight.

The most basic Rasam is the one that uses just tamarind water. I opted for a more wholesome Tomato Rasam, the kind I drank in “South Indian” restaurants back home.

I felt better the minute the 10 dry whole red chillies started roasting expelling a sharp, pungent kick into the kitchen. By the time I got to the Rasam, I could actually taste and smell it! Thankfully, there’s enough powder left over for tonight’s hit.

If things go to plan, I’ll be fully recovered for this Friday’s festivities.

Feeds 4:

• Quarter cup Toor lentils
• 1 medium tomato
• 1 inch ball of fresh tamarind (or 1 tbsp ready tamarind paste)
• 2 sprigs curry leaves
• 1 tsp mustard seeds
• Sprinkle of asafoetida
• 1 tsp sunflower oil
• Salt to taste

Rasam Powder

• 2 tbsp coriander seeds
• 2 tsp cumin seeds
• 10 whole dry red chillies
• 5-6 black peppercorns

Preheat the grill to a high heat (200 degrees centigrade). In the meantime, wash the lentil thoroughly and roughly chop the tomato. Soak the fresh tamarind in four tbsp of hot water.

Put all the Rasam powder ingredients under the grill for about 10 seconds. Then powder in a coffee grinder or small food processor until fine.

Place the lentils, tomato and two heaped teaspoons of the powder in a large pot with four cups of water and bring to the boil. I used a pressure cooker for this (10 minutes after the first whistle). But you could just as well boil it in a pot. Just make sure you watch it to prevent contents from spilling over (take off the flame for a few seconds) or from drying up (add more water).

The perfect consistency for Rasam is watery, with fibres in it. Like orange juice with bits. The tomato will almost disappear.

When this happens, mix in the strained tamarind water (or paste). In another small pan bring the oil to heat over a high flame. Add in order, the asafoetida, mustard seeds and curry leaves. Fry for a few seconds until the curry leaves turn a dark shade of green and then mix into the soup.

Drink the Rasam piping hot as a soup or enjoy it with some plain steamed rice.

Bored stiff of doling out mind-bogglingly perfect and precise recipes for years, she decided to reinvent herself as the NBF of the common people, the time poor types. Except no one told her we’d moved on from the Seventies.We are still looking for shortcuts. But we also care about what we put in our bods. And the convenience/health equation is a delicately balanced one.

Of course it can get terribly complicated. Eat oily fish. But not farmed fish. From the Atlantic. Chicken is low fat. Unless battery farmed. Organic can mean just that or not.Tricky, that.She thinks we need “leadership”. In the form of a controversial cookbook that uses ready tinned beef mince and potato mash powder that is flying off our shelves.I think we need to make up our own blooming minds. Tinned beans? Yes. Powdered spud? No way, I say.

Here’s my half way solution. A super healthy, black eyed beans curry that is made from the canned stuff and other healthy and fresh ingredients. I couldn’t resist this recipe from Vimmi, whose blog is aptly named Possibilities.

Feeds 4:

1 can of cooked black eyed peas, drained and rinsed

1 small onion

1 large tomato

4 cloves garlic

Half inch ginger

1 tsp cumin seeds

2 tsp coriander powder

Half tsp garam masala powder

2 tbsp oil

Salt to taste

Chop the onion into small pieces. Chop the tomato roughly. Mince the ginger and garlic as small as you can.Now bring the oil to heat over a high flame and when it’s hot, add the cumin seeds and let them sizzle up.As they do toss in the onion, garlic and ginger and stir fry until it turns a pale golden yellow. Then, add all the powders apart from garam masala, and the chopped tomato.Fry this on high for about five minutes, until you see the oil from the masalas being released on the sides of your saucepan.When this happens, stir in the beans and a cup of hot water and leave to cook on a medium flame for about five minutes.Finally stir in the garam masala and salt.

This is delicious as a complete beans and rice meal or in a bowl with some toasted pitta bread for dunking.

It’s because I’ve been too busy running desperately around my kitchen in a chicken costume protesting about the perils of factory farming in an attempt to win £25,000 cash.

Seriously though, I am surviving on very few brain cells these days. The festive season has kicked in.

Along with too much general good cheer and gold glitter, way too much champagne is being consumed.

By no means does this spell the end of quick Indian cooking as we know it. Quite the contrary, in fact.

You try drinking more than you should three nights in a row. What do you think you’ll need after that?

Alka seltzer?

Fried breakfast?

Bottles of coca cola?

A new liver, perhaps?

Try dal. Lentils boiled to death, then brought to life with a medley of spices tempered in buttery smooth ghee.  

My personal favourite is this masoor dal laced with ginger and spinach. I can say from experience: this stuff cures like no other. And requires very few brain cells to make.

All in all, an excellent choice for tomorrow night’s supper when I’ll be nursing a sore head from tonight’s office Christmas party.

I won’t wear my chicken costume.

But I can’t promise I’ll behave.

At least there’ll be a pot of dal at the end of it all…

This recipe feeds 4 people:

250 gm red lentils (masoor dal)

250 gm ready frozen spinach

1 whole dry red chilli

Half tsp chilli powder

Half tsp turmeric powder

1 inch ginger, grated or minced

1 tbsp ghee (clarified butter)

Wash the lentils in a large pan thoroughly with cold water until it runs clean. Fill the pan halfway with cold water, add the turmeric and bring to boil over a high flame.

This takes about five minutes and you’ll need to watch the lentils to make sure the water doesn’t boil over. If it does just take the pan off the flame for two seconds, swear and move on.

As the water froths up, skim the surface with a wooden spoon and throw the scum away.

Keep boiling the dal on a medium heat until the lentils start losing their shape and integrating with the water. In the meantime, cook the frozen spinach in the mircorwave for five minutes or on the cooker with a tablespoon of water.

When the lentils resemble a fibrous soup, mix in the spinach. Add half a cup of hot water only if the mixture dries up. You want this to have a thick, smooth soup-like consistency.

While the goodness of the spinach spills into the dal, make the tarka or tempering. Bring a small pot with the ghee to heat to heat over a high flame. When it is hot, add in order the whole chilli, minced ginger and the chilli powder.

Fry for about two minutes and then stir into the dal. Lower the flame to a gentle simmer and stir the dal well to mix in the flavours.

Serve hot with hot brown basmati rice, mango pickle and keema for a full Indian meal that really hits the spot. 

PS = Have you contributed to Menu for Hope yet? Johanna of The Passionate Cook is hosting the UK effort. I am trying to work out how to get my extra special gift over from India by this Friday. Yikes!

PS = If you are looking to treat your kitchen to something special this year, please buy something from Pampered Chef. My sister-in-law is helping raise funds for unwanted pregnancy support charity The Place. You need to click on How to Purchase, type Lex in the first name box and then buy with reckless abandon.

The first was all festive glitter, mulled wine and the most amazing macaroons at a chi chi Christmas lights on party for this London shopping arcade.

The second saw me travel cattle class to the depths of North England for work.

The 3-hour train journey I can handle. Being rudely awoken by drunk girls while I’m asleep on six-inch, deep filled mattress in a boutique hotel I can deal with. But failing to find something decent for lunch in a 60s-style shopping parade is where I give up.

Convinced the only decent thing to do would be to get with the programme, my colleague dragged me off to a local chippie. Which evidently sustained the town’s entire school going population and had a lucrative sideline in Chinese specialties.

Fancy a deep fried sausage with Singapore noodles?

Me neither.

The stress of it made me crave curry. Anything with a hint of masala would do. I bought a chicken tikka wrap. Slices of pre-cooked chicken smothered in a ready made curry sauce and doused with raw onions. But I couldn’t stomach it.

I’m not usually the tiffin box type but I wish I’d brought along kala channa, little black chick peas with an spicy masala coating. Low fat, high in protein and fibre, these are the just the thing for snacking, alongside a full Indian meal or when hopes are fading fast.

A handful of this stuff on a bed of simple salad would have considerably lifted my spirits last week. Thankfully, I soon found a cafe that sold green tea and home made cake.

Not quite the masala hit I was hoping for but this I could live with…

This recipe serves 4:

250 gm little black chick peas

1 tsp minced ginger

1 tsp cumin

Half tsp ajwain seeds

Half tsp chilli powder

1 tbsp sunflower oil

Salt to taste

Soak the chick peas overnight or at least four hours in a large pan of cold water until they double up in size. Drain, refill with cold water and then boil on a high heat for 20 minutes until you can squish them really easily with your thumb and index finger. When it’s ready, drain and set aside.

In another large pan, bring the oil to heat over a high flame. When it is hot, add in order the ginger, cumin seeds, ajwain seeds, chilli powder. Stir for a minute so that the ginger starts turning golden yellow.

Now add the drained chickpeas, the salt and fry stirring vigorously on the high heat for about five minutes until the masala evenly coats them.

Eat hot with your meal, or cold straight out the fridge as a healthy snack. Or take in a tiffin box where food may not meet your exacting standards.

PS = This is quick Indian cooking on the basis that you can eat it for days in many guises. But if you know where I can buy ready soaked, cooked little chick peas, please please let me know. You know how much I LOVE soaking and boiling…

My super turbo hand-held blender has never let me down. But off late I’ve noticed its general reluctance to turn roasted spices into anything finer than granulated sugar.

Old age perhaps? A spot of rebellion? It happens to the best of us…

It was time for change. I needed a mean machine that would blast even the toughest little spice rogues into tiny specks of dust. I needed a coffee grinder.

It would have to be:

• Compact: The kitchen cupboards are bursting with stuff
• Easy to clean: My poor man has enough on his plate already
• Simple to use: Anything more than the click of a button is far too exhausting

I settled for this one. My first mission - to make the spice mix powder for sambhar, a South Indian dal eaten widely with steamed idlis, fried dosas and even plain rice.

Armed and dangerous, I spent 10 whole minutes reducing dry roasted whole spices to fine sambhar powder. I got 150gms worth. Enough to last a year, to be precise.

This is the sambhar dal I made with it. Fragrant, delicious and simple.

This recipe feeds 4:

250 gm toor lentils

6 okras (lady finger)

1 medium carrot

1 small onion

1 tsp mustard seeds

2 sprigs of curry leaves

Half teaspoon turmeric powder

2 tsp sambhar powder

1 tablespoon of freshly grated coconut (Unsweetened dessicated will work too)

Pinch of asafoetida (hing)

1 tbsp + 1 tsp sunflower oil

Salt to taste

Wash the lentils thoroughly in a large pot, until the water runs clean. Bring it to boil with twice as much cold water, the turmeric powder and a teaspoon of oil.

As it bubbles up, lower the flame to a medium boil and cook the lentils until they lose shape and start integrating with the water. Don’t let them dry up and keep adding hot water to make sure you have a dal iof fairly thin consistency.

In the meantime, wash the whole okra under cold water and then chop into one centimetre discs. Peel and chop the carrot into half centimetre discs and then quarters. Chop the onion into little pieces.

Bring the remaining oil to heat in a small pot over a high flame. When it is hot, add the asafoetida and the mustard seeds. As they sizzle up, add the curry leaves and fry them for 20 seconds.

Next add the vegetables and the sambhar powder and stir fry on a high heat, mixing the ingredints together well.

When the dal is cooked, stir this vegetable mix into it along with the coconut. Simmer together for five minutes and serve piping hot.

PS = Why stop at a coffee grinder? Use a pressure cooker to make the dal. It takes 5-7 minutes after the first whistle.

A friend of a friend, she proclaimed at a weekday drinks soiree: “I love CHAT Magazine. The cover promises ‘Life, Death, Prize’. What more can I want?”

Deep sense of sarcasm and dark wit? I loved her instantly.

Three glasses of free, donkey’s-piss-posing-as-wine later I was doing my sales spiel for Quickindiancooking. And that’s when she dropped the lead ball.

She hates the smell of Indian spices. I mean, like seriously can’t stand the rich, warm and woody blend of aromas that fill the air when raw whole spices meet hot oil.

I was at a loss for words. And that RARELY EVER happens to me.

For the rest of the evening I thought long and hard about her problem. Indian food does have strong flavours and fragrances. I racked my brains for a winter, single gal (or bloke) friendly recipe that would fit the bill.

I came up with this. A thick, one-pot, oil-free dal cooked with heaps of healthy vegetables like cauliflower, carrots, beans, peas and tomatoes. Never mind the long list of ingredients. All you need to do is add them in stages and leave to cook.

It’s totally Delicious. I hope she agrees!

This recipe serves 4:

250 gm moong dal (skinless split mung beans)

3 cloves garlic, finely chopped

1 inch ginger, finely chopped

1 tomato, roughly chopped

1 onion, roughly chopped

1 bay leaf

Half tsp chilli powder

Half tsp turmeric powder

Half tsp garam masala

1 bay leaf

3 cups of mixed raw vegetables, your choice from the above list

1 tbsp fresh lemon juice

12 gm fresh coriander, chopped roughly

In a large pot, wash the lentils thoroughly until the water runs clean. Fill the pot half way with clean water and bring the lentils to boil over a high flame.

In about 10 minutes, the lentils will start losing their shape and combining with the water. Now add the ginger, garlic and bay leaf. Continue cooking for 10 minutes until you can’t smell the raw ginger and garlic. The water in the pot will start drying up, add water half cup at a time when it does.

Next, chuck in the tomato, onion and all the vegetables and the turmeric and chilli powder. Keep cooking the dal on high until the vegetables are done and the tomato resembles little flecks of chilli.

By this time, the lentils will be a thick and smooth dal. To finish, stir in the lemon juice, garam masala and fresh coriander.

Eat this with a hot bowl of rice or, if you can’t be bothered, some toasted pitta bread.

Take yesterday, for example. My good Russian friend from our youthful university days has just splashed out on a film projector and surround sound audio system. Hubby picked me and another friend up after work and we drove down for a very exclusive home cinema experience.

At dinner before the film started, my friend’s flatmate revealed that he makes curry powder from scratch. And that he’s just perfected his special dal recipe.

Blimey… the guy was beginning to give me a complex!

During the gory, black comedy that ensued on a giganormous wall, I racked my brains for a dal recipe that would fox him. I remembered the cholar dal or channa (Bengal gram), which I cooked at Friday’s dinner party.

This dal is eaten on special occasions in Bengal like weddings. It is traditionally served with luchi - light, fluffy, flaky little Indian breads. These are called pooris in the North of India.

As with a lot of other Bengali dishes, the dal has a hint of sweetness and is best enjoyed piping hot.

This one’s for Dave. A wise man once said, when you think you know all life’s answers, someone changes the questions. True, how true.

This recipe serves 4:

250 gm channa lentils
1 tsp garam masala
1 tsp turmeric powder
Half tsp chilli powder
Half tsp cumin powder
Half tsp coriander powder
Half tsp sugar
1 green chilli
2 tbsp raisins
2 tbsp shredded coconut (I used freshly diced ones)
2 tbsp ghee
Salt to taste

Wash the dal thoroughly. Add it with three times as much cold water and bring it to the boil.

Then add the garam masala, cumin, coriander, turmeric powders and the sugar and boil until the lentils are soft to the touch but still intact. You can pressure cook this for 15 minutes after the first whistle.

Now mash up some lentils in the pot to thicken the mixture. In a seperate little pot, heat the ghee and when hot add the shredded coconut bits, the garam masala and chilli powders and the green chilli.

Fry for a minute and then add to the lentils along with the raisins. Voila!

And this girl is smart. I, on the other hand, have a small brain that is entirely used up 9 to 6, Monday to Friday.

This has been a dilemma of sorts. How can I write about quick Indian cooking and ignore a device that can cut cooking time to a third?

So I succumbed and bought myself a pressure cooker on Sunday. It’s a scary-looking contraption with an intimidating set of accompanying instructions. I read the guide cover to cover and still didn’t understand it. (small brain, remember?)

I decided to brave a possible explosion and cook something. Kali dal - a black lentil preparation with historic roots in Mughal courts that normally takes four hours of cooking. It’s not low fat or quick to make, but it tastes damn good. With a pressure cooker, at least it’s quicker - a mere 45 minutes in total.

I sat in the kitchen reading some vapid fashion magazine, too petrified to go anywhere lest something terrible happened. And then a miracle. Hubby waltzed into the kitchen and knew exactly what to do with the thing. Soon it was rotating, hissing and cooking just like it said it would in the brochure. Hurrah!

I am very impressed with the results and will definitely be using the thing more. I might even name it. All suggestions welcome.

This recipe for kali dal would comfortably serve 4:

250 gms urad dal, soaked overnight
5 tsp ginger paste
5 tsp garlic paste
4 tsp tomato puree
1 tsp chilli powder
100 gm butter, salted
Salt to taste

Wash the urad lentils thoroughly after they’ve soaked overnight. Stick in the pressure cooker and bring to a boil with two pints of water, roughly reaching about two inches above the lentils.

Lower the flame so that it is still boiling gently. Add the ginger, garlic, tomato puree and chilli powder.

Now stick the lid on, click to shut and wait until the weight starts rotating and hissing. You have to lower the flame to a point where the weight just about keeps rotating and hissing from time to time. This means the pressure is right (listen to me… new born pressure cooker user!!).

Give it about 20 minutes. Then slowly release the steam by lifting the weight with a logn handled spoon. When all the steam escapes, you can take the lid off.

Because we didn’t use much water, the lentils will be cooked but quite dry. Add hot water to make it thick but runny in consistency, chuck in the butter and add salt to finish.

The dal is very tasty and very rich. Enjoy it with bread of some sort - nan, paratha or rotis.