Quick Indian Cooking

This is where I’ve been. Last Wednesday saw the launch of my new book Miss Masala: Real Indian Cooking for Busy Living.

For all of you who have been following my recipes, straight talking tips and life’s ups and downs, Harper Collins has now packaged them into a handbag-sized read, complete with illustrations of vodka bottles and stilettos.

Seriously though, it took a year to get the deal, two years to write the book, most of it while being pregnant and then on maternity leave.

So the launch was an excellent excuse for a wild party. I decide to invite 200 well-heeled Londoners, book a bar in London’s Soho and order crates of champagne, vodka and gin.

Except I then find out there is another naan in the oven. Yes, people, micro mini Basu is also on its way! That would mean no champagne, vodka or gin for yours truly. Not even to celebrate three years of hard graft.

The immediate concern was finding a maternity dress that didn’t resemble a sack. I’m happy to report on a sequin fuchsia pink chiffon number set off perfectly by a pair of complimentary cubic zirconia dangly earrings sent to me by the lovely Sarah of Lu Shae jewelry art designs.

The launch was a huge success. Let’s hope some of you like the book! Now back to blogging, bhunas and babies. Wish me the best for the rest!

PS = the book is on Amazon and at most good bookstores in Australia and New Zealand, Europe (Belgium & Luxembourg, France, Norway and Sweden), Kenya and the UAE. India launch to happen soon. I’ll keep you posted!

PPS = 1000 thanks to anyone who follows this blog for your unstinting support. Bloggers Asha, Sia, Sra, Sandeepa, Indosungod, Srivalli, Jenn, Ann and Elisabeth also got a special mention in the acknowledgments before I ran out of space.

It’s unbelievable how cruel life can be.

Here I am, jumping in the back of a black cab for the Christmas lights on party at a high-end shopping arcade. As I meet friends and drink pumpkin soup, I moan about the delayed celebrity guest of honour. The shortage of macaroons. And then slip off with them for a special meal at a chi chi Mayfair American diner.

While on the other side of the world in Mumbai hundreds of innocent people are mercilessly targeted by mindless terrorists. Their lives turned upside down. Families distraught.

My heart goes out to everyone directly or indirectly touched by this terrible incident. If you’re lucky enough to be home, safe, in the comfort of your loved ones – Happy Thanksgiving.

I ate lunch with clients at a gorgeous French restaurant. The setting was rolling countryside. The three-course meal came complete with a cheese trolley, encyclopedic wine list and a lovingly-christened dog called Cassoulet.

Back in London I had just about enough time to rush to Covent Garden for dinner with the girls. Formerly journalism students, we all saw the error of our ways. Moved into PR. And regretted it ever since.

We tucked into another three courses and complimentary Bellinis at a low lit Covent Garden bistro. One German, a Kenyan, a Spaniard and me. The food was standard Brasserie fare. The conversation low brow to match – clients, classmates and copulation.

Sometimes it’s the simplest things that complete a meal.

Like Papad. These wafer thin discs of lentil crisps are the perfect accompaniment to any Indian meal. You can dry roast them on a naked flame. Or fry them in hot oil.

That’s a choice of too much effort or too much effort. So I don’t bother with either. I just stick them one at a time in the microwave for a minute each. They curl up slowly, turning crisp and golden in places. I’ve tried this technique with the perennial classic spicy Lijjat Padad and Khanum Madras Plain Pappadom. And it works every time.

Just don’t forget the three-part Indian meal to go with it…