The last jobless Friday night involved a leggy single brunette. Also top friend and white wine fiend.

First stop, the global launch of Smirnoff’s new Green Apple and Lime flavours. My favourite choice of tipple. Followed closely by Tanqueray and tonic. And champagne. (There must be some others)

I expected free cocktails and vodka bottles. I got a row of melting ice sculptures. The top had fallen off St Paul’s Cathedral. The London Eye had liquefied beyond recognition. Drinks were an hour later in a different venue.

An hour? That’s two eternities for a new mum on a night out!

Cocktail bar, French bistro and Cinema cafe later I was ready to call it a night. Return to my previous life as a corporate superbitch. Whip the world into shape with some quick Indian cooking.

No better way to get going than an easy, simple dal. It takes 20 minutes. Doesn’t disappoint. Enjoy.

Feeds 4:

• 225gm yellow moong lentils (about 1 mug)
• Half inch ginger
• 4 garlic cloves
• 1 long dried red chilli
• Half tsp chilli powder
• Half tsp turmeric powder
• 1 tbsp oil
• Salt to taste

Pour the lentils into a large pot and wash thoroughly under a cold tap under the water runs clear.

Add three mugs of boiling water, the turmeric and return to the boil. As the lentils start bubbling, scum and foam will appear on the surface. Just skim it off with a wooden spoon and lower the heat to medium so it bubbles away gently.

The mixture will go all fibrous in 10 minutes. Chop the ginger and garlic finely and mix it in. You need to keep adding hot water half a cup at a time, when the lentils are dry and start spluttering, to keep a runny but thick consistency.

In another 10 minutes, when the lentils are well integrated with the water, heat the oil in a little saucepan on high. Chuck in the turmeric, red chilli and chilli powder and as the red chilli starts sizzling mix this, the tadka, into the lentils.

Add salt to your taste and a knob of butter if you fancy before you ladle it over steaming hot rice. For a simple, complete meal, try it with Dhaniya Murgh.

I got a proper send off with Chanel skin goodies and a bang-on-trend silver cuff bracelet. These girls are after my own heart.

In the meantime, mother arrived.  Armed with new recipes, a suitcase of dubious home cures for indigestion and acne and a life time’s supply of dry roasted whole cumin.

I’ve delegated all manner of housework to her and seized my opportunity to accomplish a flurry of last minute activities. A vegan feature for the next issue of Cook Vegetarian magazine. A stream of beauty treatments, acupuncture massages and a promising performance involving gin-soaked puppets.

If I’m going down, I’m going down in style.

Sadly, this blog and blogging have had to take a back seat for a bit. I can’t promise how regular I’ll be in the next few weeks. But in the immortal words of The Terminator – “I’ll be back”.

Meanwhile, here’s a very simple Mixed Bean Palya, stir fried pulses with coconut, from the collection of recipes I contributed to the mag.

Feeds 2:

• 1 tin mixed cooked beans
• 2 tsp channa lentils
• 2 small carrots
• 2 tbsp unsweetened dessicated coconut
• 1 tsp fresh lime juice
• 1 tsp mustard seeds
• 1 tsp cumin seeds
• 2 dry red chillies
• 10 curry leaves
• 1 tsp brown cane sugar
• 1 tablespoon oil
• Salt to taste

Sauté a teaspoon of mustard seeds, cumin seeds, two teaspoons of channa lentils, two dry red chillies and 10 curry leaves in 1 tablespoon of hot oil until light brown.

Mix in two small chopped carrots and one teaspoon of brown cane sugar. Cook for five minutes on a medium flame. Then mix in a washed and drained tin of cooked mixed beans.

Stir-fry for five minutes, making sure the ingredients don’t stick to the bottom of the pan. Finally, stir in two tablespoons of unsweetened desiccated coconut, 1 teaspoon of fresh lime juice and salt to taste.

The dinner was planned months in advance. But the US election sweepstake sent a buzz through the office. Spirits were running high. And so were dinner expectations.

Questions came flying thick and fast at me:

• “Can we email requests for the menu?”
• “When will the cabs arrive to collect us?”
• “Can we have a choice for starters, main course and dessert?”

Great. Now I’m being confused for Buckingham Balti.

I threatened them with the local Indian takeaway and secretly panicked. This is a big mistake. I am setting myself up for a fall. My professional image is under the microscope. What if I can’t churn out a meal for the troops like the endless papers I produce?

I decided to match the moment with a fiery meal, planned to ignite their senses. The dinner of Bhuna Gosht, Achari Baingan, Anda Raita, Lasuni Dal Palak and Bhapa Doi went down almost as well as Obama’s victory.  The Lasuni Dal Palak, or garlicky spinach lentils, was taken from One Hot Stove.

Stupendously easy and bursting with flavour, it was the perfect accompaniment for a high-octane evening.

Feeds 4:

• 100gm Moong and Masoor dal or just toor dal
• 1 cup fresh or frozen spinach
• 1 medium tomato
• 1 small onion
• Half tsp cumin
• Half tsp turmeric powder
• Half tsp chilli powder
• 6 garlic cloves
• 1 tbsp oil
• 1 tsp ghee
• Salt to taste

Wash the lentils thoroughly and set to boil with twice as much cold water ad the turmeric powder in a medium pot.

Chop finely or garlic press four garlic cloves and slice the onion and tomato. In another small pot, bring the oil to heat over a high flame. When it’s hot, add in the cumin and garlic. As they sizzle up, stir in the tomato and onion and fry for tw minutes on high until they are soft.

Next add in the spinach, lower the flame to a medium and cook the spinach until defrosted or wilted. Keep an eye on the lentils and if they are drying up add a bit of hot water to them. To keep the dal thick, don’t add too much water, just a little bit every time the lentils start spluttering because they’re too dry.

When the lentils incorporate with the water and get a soup-like consistency and texture, mix in the spinach. Add a little hot water to combine all the ingredients and keep it bubbling to infuse flavours.

After five minutes, fire up a small pot with the ghee and slice the remaining two garlic cloves. When the ghee is hot, add the sliced garlic and chilli powder. As the garlic starts turning golden brown, mix this tadka into the main pot of dal.

Finally check for salt and serve with a squirt of lemon and some hot Basmati rice.

I’m talking about Durga Puja. Where London’s entire Bengali community descends to find suitable marriage partners, keep up with the Chatterjee’s, and, of course, pray.

For me and sis, the highlight is the Bhog or food offering. There’s something about standing in the mile-long queue, sizing up the crowds and receiving a miniscule portion of food that makes it two times more special than it tastes.

We arrived in matching deep red salwar suits, the traditional trousers and tops, high heels and overcoats. Waited patiently for the queueing to commence, while catching up with the community. And it never happened. Turns out the Bhog of Khichuri, rice and lentils, and Mishti is reserved for the last day or Dashami.

When someone said said “don’t leave now” and rattled off the names of a dozen other long lost Bengalis who were about to arrive, sis and I exchanged a quick look. Then, we legged it to the nearest Indian vegetarian buffet worth its thali.

We’re about to try our luck again. But I’m not taking any chances. I’ve cooked a large pot of Bhoger Khichuri and Beguni, spicy fried aubergines. It’s not quite the same, but it’ll help any disappointment later. Shubho Biojoya everyone!

PS= I have tried to reach a happy compromise with fat in these recipes. Ghee is limited to half a teaspoon per serving and the aubergine is shallow fried instead of deep fried. Come Diwali, I’m done with all this festive fattening…

Feeds 4:

Khichuri

• 100gm Urad dal
• 100gm Basmati rice
• 5 cauliflower florets
• 1 potato
• Handful green peas
• 1 tbsp turmeric powder
• 1 tsp garam masala
• 3 bay leaves
• 1 inch cinnamon
• 4 green cardamoms
• 4 green finger chillies
• 1 tsp sugar
• 2 tbsp ghee

Wash the dal throughly under a cold tap. Leave it to drain and cut the cauliflower and potato into small bite sized pieces.

In a large pot, dry roast the dal on a high flame for a minute until it lets off a wonderful warm aroma. Then add a cup of hot water and bring to the boil. In the meantime, rince the rice thoroughly. When the dal starts bubbling, mix in the rice and the turmeric.

In another two minutes, stir in the potatoes. Then after another few minutes, the cauliflower and peas. Let the whole mixture keep bubbling until the contents are all cooked. The dal will disintegrate easily in the mouth when ready. Keep adding water so you get a runny consistency.

Take the pot off the flame and make the tadka mix. In a small pot, heat the ghee over a high flame. When it starts sizzling, add the whole dry spices, the sugar and the green chillies. As they start sizzling too, stir the tadka into the dal. Add salt to taste and serve hot with the Beguni.

Beguni

• 1 small aubergine
• 100gm gram flour
• 1 tsp nigella (black onion) seeds
• 1 tsp salt
• Half tsp chilli powder
• 5 tbsp oil

Cut the aubergine into half lengthwise and then half centimetre slices. Soak it in cold water while the khichuri is cooking.

When the khichuri is done, run the gram flour through a fine sieve to remove any lumps. Then add all the other ingredients and water one tablespoon at a time to create a thick batter with the consistency of a thick but runny yogurt.

Bring the oil to heat in a frying pan over a high heat. When the oil starts sizzling, coat each aubergine slice on either side with the batter and shallow fry until crisp and golden brown. Set them to rest on a thick napkin or kitchen towel to drain off any excess oil before you enjoy.

I can’t write about aloo gobi and chicken curry while the global financial system implodes around me! I feel like those musicians who played while the Titanic sank.

The US Treasury rescue plan has been a particular bee in my bonnet. Free capitalism crumbles. Then the ordinary people have to pay the price.

Meanwhile, Hank Paulson makes the insightful comment of “We need a plan that works” (Financial Times, 30th September). No surprise there, from a fat cat former global bank CEO.

Not that we ordinary mortals would be better off either way. The rot in this system is only just beginning to bare it’s ugly teeth. The greedy scumbags who got us into this mess will sun their pot bellies in far flung destinations. While we pay for in the cost of aubergines and potatoes tomorrow, what we’re reading about in the papers today.

I’m making hay while the sun shines. Buying exotic, expensive vegetables from supermarket shelves before I’m forced to grow my own in my balcony pots. And then turning them into rich and warming feasts for wintry evenings. Like this Dhansak, a vegetarian pumpkin and aubergine filled version of the truly authentic Parsi sweet and spicy Lamb Dhansak.

If everything falls apart, I’ll trade my despair in for a bowl of Dhansak.

Feeds 3-4:

• Half a cup of toor, masoor and moong dal (equal quantities)
• 1 small aubergine
• 100gm pumpkin
• 1 medium onion
• 1 large tomato
• Half tsp coriander powder
• Half tsp cumin powder
• 1 tsp turmeric powder
• 1 tsp kasoori methi or dried fenugreek leaves
• 1 tsp brown sugar
• 1 tbsp tamarind paste
• 2 tbsp ghee

For the paste:

• 2 garlic cloves
• Half inch ginger
• Half tsp cumin seeds
• Half tsp coriander seeds
• 1 inch cinnamon
• 2 green cardamoms
• 4 black peppercorns
• 2 dry red chillies

Grind all the paste ingredients together in a blender with one tablespoon of water. Slice the onions and chop the aubergine and tomato into large bite-sized chunks. Peel the pumpkin and chop it up too. Soak the kasoori methi in two tablespoons of hot water.

In a large pot, bring the ghee to heat over a high flame. When it’s hot, add in the onions and fry for two minutes until they start turning golden brown. Then mix in the chopped vegetables, the dry powders and the masala paste. Fry for two minutes again mixing everything together viciously.

Next, wash the dals well and stir them into the vegetables. Add hot water to cover the ingredients and bring to a boil. When it starts bubbling, reduce the heat to a medium flame and cook covered for 20 minutes stirring from time to time. Add a bit of hot water only if the mixture gets very dry and starts hissing and spitting everywhere.

If you have a pressure cooker, you are set for five to seven minutes of cooking.

When the dal melts easily in the mouth and the large chunks of vegetables have disintegrated, spoon in the sugar, tamarind, kasoori methi and salt to taste. Serve piping hot with Parsi Brown Rice.

We’re off to Tuscany. To a villa with a pool. With seven friends. The plans sounded pretty relaxing until the words “professional” and “cook” got mentioned in an email trail. About me.

I went into panic mode. The expectations were high. What would I do without a cupboard bursting with spices? No kitchen gadgets? Or easy telephone access to mother?

I sat in my friend’s bed. Contemplating my social fate over a glass of Bourgogne and her Saag Chicken, Aloo Gobi and fried Bhindi.

Then I tried her sublime Dal – soft and smooth, buttery red lentils. Amazingly, she’d cooked it using only asafoetida, chilli and turmeric powder in it. The simplest and most delicious Dal yet!

I am feeling inspired about creating a Indian feast with the most minimal of ingredients in Tuscany. I’ll take a few spices to be on the safe side but try and source as many ingredients locally as possible.

Wish me luck. I’ll need it to keep hold of those friends.

Feeds 2:

• 100gm moong (yellow) or masoor (red) lentils
• 1 pinch asafoetida
• Half tsp chilli powder
• Half tsp turmeric powder
• 1 tsp ghee
• Salt to taste

Wash the lentils throughly under a cold tap until the water runs clear. In a pot add the lentils, mix in the turmeric and pour in double the amount of cold water. Bring this to boil on a high flame.

As the lentils boil, scum and foam will rise to top. Just skim this off and chuck it. Keep adding half a cup of hot water every time the lentils dry up to help them cook and integrate well with the liquid.

If you add lots of water in one go, you’ll get a runny dal that won’t do this justice. When the lentils start resembling a thick, fibrous soup make the tarka or tempering.

In a little pot, bring the ghee to heat on a high flame. When it’s hot, add the asafoetida and the chilli powder. As it sizzle up, stir this into the lentils. Add salt according to your preference and enjoy with Methi Murgh or simply chilli pickle and rice.

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.

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 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.