Our babysitter suggested I had finally lost it.

I also started using a great, big, proper grown up food processor.

Now you may think this is odd. Especially for someone who cooks and writes about food. The truth is I have been joined at the hip with my trusted hand held food processor for eons. It’s dinky, safe and and finger proof. What’s not to like?

Then my man bought me a monstrous Magimix for returning to work after maternity leave. I became desperate for one. If it’s good enough for the great and the good of the celebrity chef world, it’s good enough for me.

Except, it scared me witless for the first few months. The fittings looked like weapons of mass destruction. The base weighed a ton. The manual didn’t appeal in its cling film packaging. Then I decided to improvise, stuck the small blade into the large bowl, and wondered why the damn thing was more noise less action.

I have to say, three months of playing with the thing later, I can’t live without it. I’ve been slicing onions, shredding carrots, mixing stuffing/croquettes and cooking this addictive, fresh, green Dhaniya Palak Pulao (check out this Pudina Dhaniya Chicken too).

My nails are still intact! Now for that dishwasher, double oven, triple cooker, kitchen island and Global knife set…

Feeds 4

• 350gm rice (uncooked)
• 50gm fresh coriander
• 50gm fresh spinach
• 4 garlic cloves
• 1 inch cinnamon stick
• 1 bay leaf
• 4 green cardamoms
• 1 tbsp ghee
• Salt to taste

Puree the fresh coriander and spinach in a food processor with two or three tablespoons of water. If you don’t have a food processor, just chop them finely. Chop the garlic finely.

Rinse the rice well with cold water. Take a medium pot and bring the ghee to heat in it on high.

When it’s hot, add the cloves, cinnamon, cardamoms, and bay leaf and as they sizzle up, the chopped garlic. When the garlic turns a pale golden, measure the rice first into a mug, next stir it in and fry for a minute.

Then mix in the green paste, add 1.5 times as much hot water as the rice, measured in the same mug. Bring to a boil, lower the flame to simmer, cover and cook for about 10-12 minutes until all the water is absorbed and the rice is cooked.

Serve this with yogurt and pickle for a really simple lunch or as a side for some grilled chicken or pork.

One sunny morning, I opened our balcony door to let the first seasonal rays of sunshine in. A breath of fresh air. A joy in my step. A view of dead leaves.

Lovely.

My father-in-law took pity on me and decided to lead the charge on the gardening project. I extracted my fluorescent gardening gloves and scissors in preparation.

“Those are kitchen scissors.”

Yes, I know dad.

“When did you last water these plants”

Two weeks ago.

“You know plants need water to survive?”

That’s only a small technical oversight!

We spent the evening clearing up, replanting courgette and tomato plants my sister-in-law had ambitiously donated to me. Dad did, that is. I made every excuse to leap back into the flat: dinner, baby, strange itch in my little finger.

One week of watering later, I have two courgette flowers and a thriving collection of flowers (identity unknown). I won’t swamp you with courgette curries yet, but here’s a winter to summer Gobi Mattar or cauliflower and pea stir fry to celebrate seasonal changes.

Feeds 2:

• 1 small cauliflower
• Half mug green shelled peas (I used freshly frozen one)
• 1 medium potato
• 1 tsp coriander powder
• Half tsp cumin powder
• Half tsp cumin seeds
• Half tsp chilli powder
• Half tsp turmeric powder
• 1 tbsp oil
• Salt to taste

Cut the cauliflower into large florets. Don’t make them too small or they’ll fall apart when you cook them.

Peel and chop the potato into little pieces. Bring a large frying pan to heat on high with the tablespoon of oil. When it’s hot, add the cumin seeds and as they sizzle up, the potatoes along with all the spice powders.

Stir the potatoes for five minutes until their edges turn translucent and you can insert a fork into them albeit with some difficulty. Now mix in the cauliflower florets, lower the heat to a medium, cover and cook for five minutes.

Lastly, stir in the peas, salt to taste and cook for a final five minutes until the cauliflower is soft.

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.

Turns out a passenger aboard a Virgin Mumbai to London flight wrote an impassioned complaint to Sir Richard Branson himself about the Indian food he was served.

The excruciatingly hilarious letter went global in no time. Prompting the maverick entrepreneur to personally apologise and invite the disgruntled one to test food at Virgin’s catering house.

Can I come along too?

For years, I have suffered partly-heated yellow gloop parading as curry on flights back to London from India. The desserts taste worryingly like their plastic packaging. Salads are either freezing cold or brown edged. The dry bread roll devoured with lime pickle would easily qualify as the highlight of the mile-high culinary experience.

No wonder families resort to clicking open tupperware tiffin boxes of parathas and dry palyas and sabzis. Give them cutlery and dinnerware while they’re at it, I say!

Revenge is a dish best served cold. Now we have a vocal champion for our cause. Who didn’t stomach the insult sitting down. May this be a lesson to other airlines. In an age of internet connectivity, food awareness and high consumerism, even the smallest gripes could become a stick to beat your brand with.

Digest this with my bitter sweet offering of Gajar Methi, a North Indian winter favourite of sauteed carrots and fresh fenugreek leaves.

Feeds 4:

• 4 large carrots
• 250gm fresh fenugreek leaves
• 1 tsp cumin seeds
• Half tsp chilli powder
• Half tsp turmeric powder
• 1 tsp oil
• Salt to taste

Peel and slice the raw carrots into hald centimetre discs. Wash and chop roughly the bunches of fenugreek discarding the hard stalks towards the ends.

In a large frying pan, bring the oil to heat over a high flame. When it’s hot, add in the cumin seeds and as they splutter, chuck in the carrots and the spices. Saute for about five minutes until you can see the carrots softening, then mix in the leaves. Lower the hat to a medium, cover and cook for another five to 10 minutes untilt he leaves wlt and the carrots just fallt apart when probed with a fork.

Add salt to taste and enjoy with a paratha. Preferably in the comfort of your own home.

In my years of moping around following the festive season, I now have a tried and tested formula for surviving the dreaded New Year return. I:

• Blew my entire January salary in the winter sales
• Pencilled a party on Saturday to celebrate my birthday
• Booked a week long holiday to recover

Of course, no post-Christmas period would be complete without lashings of guilt at having consumed more food than the average farmyard pig. So  I am also keeping a close eye on what I eat, upping intake of veggies and limiting chocolates to a sensible quantity.

The first Indian recipe of the year was a healthy treat from the South of India – Avial. This coconut-steeped steamed vegetable curry was light, refreshing and the perfect way for me to use up the remaining carrots and potatoes in my complimentary box of organic vegetables from Abel & Cole.

The best thing about Avial is the coconut in it. My usual trick is to by frozen grated coconut at Oriental supermarkets. But I also buy fresh coconut when they’re in season. As I had neither I used unsweetened dessicated coconut, which worked remarkably well!

Coconut isn’t the most low fat of ingredients. But I did away with coconut oil, whole fat yogurt and steamed all veggies in my recipe making it far more healthy. And there is a whole list of other vegetables you can use.

A positive start to the New Year methinks. Hope yours is filled with good things!

Feeds 4:

• 80gm green beans
• 2 medium carrots
• 1 medium potato
• 75gm dessicated coconut
• 15 curry leaves
• 3 green finger chillies
• Half tsp whole cumin
• Half tsp mustard seeds
• Half tsp turmeric powder
• 4 tbsps reduced fat natural Greek or thick yogurt
• Salt to taste
• 1 tsp oil

Soak the dessicated coconut in enough hot water to cover it. Peel and slice the carrots and potato into straws and cook in a steamer or a covered colander over boiling water. Cut the green beans into 1.5inch pieces and add to the steamer.

When the vegetables are cooked through, set them aside. Grind the coconut, green chillies and cumin into a thick paste adding two tablespoons of water if necessary to get the consistency.

Next, in a medium pot bring the oil to heat over a high flame. When it’s hot, add the mustard seeds and 10 curry leaves. As they begin to crackle, stir in the turmeric, steamed veg and stir thoroughly to mix together. Add in the coconut paste, lower the flame to a simmer and gently mix together the ingredients for a minute taking care not to mash the vegetables.

Finally, stir in the yogurt and add salt to taste. Traditionally, this is served with a soft savoury lentil pancake called Adai but I just ate it with oven hot ready naan. Delicious either way!

So I invited my sister and her three closest mates over for dinner. That’s two three Bengali girls and one Punjabi boy, who is a recent convert to quick Indian cooking. None had eaten since end of November in anticipation of the feast.

I was set to impress with the trendy-but-domestic sister act. I cooked all the food in advance. Popped it into pyrex glass dishes ready to reheat the oven. The table was laid. The man taught me how to spin itunes to provide choons for the evening.

It was all going swimmingly. I couldn’t get itunes to work initially. When I finally worked it out, I set it on non-stop party playlist. A safe choice. What could go wrong? Ne-Yo. Tick. Mika. Tick. Beyonce. Tick.

And then Pump up the Jam. That’s 1989! I jumped out of my chair and lunged towards the imac. Just in time to prevent Madonna from breaking into a 1983 rendition of Holiday.

Pride in tatters, I turned to the food. We ate Kosha Mangsho, Cholar dal, Beguni with Kumro Chokka, a deceptively simple sweet and spicy pumpkin stir fry with little black chick peas. It’s cooked with a classic Bengali five spice mix called Panch Phoron.

I chose pumpkin because they are so in season. They cook in a jiffy. And I’m also sick of pumpkin soup. Luckily for my cool credentials, they also turned out to be the biggest hit of the evening.

Feeds 4-6:

• 750gm pumpkin
• 1 tsp panch phoron
• 1 tsp minced ginger
• Half tsp chilli powder
• Half tsp turmeric powder
• 2 whole green chillies
• 120gm cooked black chick peas (I used the ready tinned stuff)
• 2 tbsp oil
• Salt to taste

Peel and chop the pumpkin into large bite-sized pieces. Bring the oil to heat in a large non-stick saucepan.

When it’s hot, add the panch phoron anf the ginger. As they sizzle up, chuck in the spice powders and the pumpkin. Stir on a hight heat for about a minute until the pumpkin is well coated.

Next, mix in the chick peas with the green chillies and a tablespoon of hot water. Lower the heat to medium and cook for 10 minutes, stirring from time to time, until the pumpkin softens.

Add salt to taste and serve hot with dal and plain white rice.

The first was a spookily quiet house party. The second, an Irish birthday bash at a new Covent Garden cocktail lounge.

I thawed in the living room at the first stop. Teeth chattering from the big Arctic freeze outside. And then I got involved in a slagging match over a male friend’s hideously-inappropriate party attire of ski boots.

He defended his patch: They’re manly.

I couldn’t believe my ears. Try stepping out in freezing weather in a lace off-the-shoulder dress in the style of Victoria Beckham, silver kitten heels and no socks. Now that’s balls!

And off I went to the madness of central London. This time in a cab to protect the block of ice that once served me well as toes.

To celebrate the start of the jolly season, I cooked a lavish vegetarian main dish that knocks the socks off a plain ingredient. This is Bandh Gobhi Massallam, a whole cabbage smothered in a nutty curry and baked until tender.

Moist, creamy and utterly divine, this party accessory won’t draw any undesired attention.

Feeds 4:

• 1 small cabbage
• 15 cashewnuts
• 2 medium tomatoes
• 100gm Greek yogurt
• 1 medium onion
• 2 tsp ginger
• 1 tsp garlic
• 1 tsp whole cumin
• Half tsp whole coriander
• Half tsp turmeric powder
• Half tsp chilli powder
• 1 inch cinnamon
• 1 brown cardamom
• Two tbsp oil
• Salt to taste

Slice the cabbage into 6 parts without cutting all the way through, i.e. leaving the base intact. Remove the hard outer layer that falls off. Place the cabbage with half a cup of boiling water in a small, deep pot, cover and cook on a medium high flame for 10 minutes until almost cooked.

In the meantime, fire up the oven to a high heat (210 degrees centigrade, 190 for fan assisted machines). Chop the onion and tomato. In another small pot heat  the oil over a high flame. When it’s hot, add the cashewnuts, cumin, coriander, cinnamon and cardamom.

As they sizzle up, stir in the onion, ginger and garlic and fry for five minutes until the mixture turn a golden brown. Then add in the tomatoes and spice powders. Fry for another two minutes until the tomatoes disintegrate. Next, mix in the yogurt and fry for two minutes to incorporate all the masalas.

Now, remove the whole cinnamon and cardamom into a shallow baking dish big enough to hold the cabbage. Add a cup of water into the remaining masala mixture and go into it with a hand blender and puree it. You don’t have to do this, but the results are seriously impressive if you do.

Finally, place the cabbage gently into the shallow baking dish adding in any bits that have fallen loose. Pour the mixture all over it and bake uncovered for 20 minutes, stirring once in between cooking.

Serve this with some home made naan and raita for full impact.

My mad ramblings, irreverent rants and quick recipes are to be published into a lifestyle/narrative cookbook by HarperCollins titled “Miss Masala”.

Of course this being journalism, they got two out of three facts wrong. I write a Quick Indian Cooking food blog. True. I live in the US. False. I am the obese spoon-wielding aunty in a cotton sari depicted by the resident cartoonist. Gross misrepresentation!

Still, it’s far better than the tepid response from some of my family members. Gran and dad take it in turns to claim I inherited the skill from them. On his recent trip, dad responded disbelievingly at the meal I cooked for him. And even asked me if I knew what “blanching” meant.

Thank god I have publishing glory to look forward to. Even though the book won’t hit the shops until March 2010. Watch this space.

In the meantime, here’s a Tamatar Shorba or Mughlai-style Indian tomato soup recipe requested by one of my readers. I’ll spare you too much sentimentality, but I wouldn’t be here without you lot, yadi yadi yada…  Just please start saving to buy my book!

Feeds 2:

• 10 medium tomatoes (about 1 kg)
• 1 tsp whole cumin
• Handful of fresh coriander
• 2 fat garlic cloves
• 1 red finger chilli
• Half tsp Kasoori methi or dry fenugreek
• 2 teaspoons brown dememera sugar
• 1 tsp sunflower oil
• Salt to taste

Wash, slice the tops off and quarter the tomatoes. Slice the garlic.

In a medium-sized pot, bring the oil to heat over a high flame. When it’s hot, add the cumin and garlic and fry for a few seconds until the garlic browns slightly.

Then mix in the tomatoes, sugar, chilli and coriander. Cook on a high flame, stirring every two minutes, for about 10 until the tomatoes disintegrate. In the meantime, soak the kasoori methi in a tiny cup with two tablespoons of hot water. This will help balance the sweet and spicy soup with its bitterness.

Then take the pan off the heat for a few seconds, stir in the methi and go in with a hand blender to puree all the contents. If you don’t have a hand blender, just wait for the contents to cool a bit and transfer them to a larger blender. If you don’t have any blenders, just pass the contents through a sieve or colander.

Add salt to taste and enjoy piping hot.

All for the benefit of a new hospital in Kolkata. The toothy grin on my ageing former local guardian. And a lavish Indian dinner.

I extracted five metres of thick, South Indian silk from the top wardrobe shelf. Self mutilated myself forcing lurid burnt gold bangles down my wrist. All while remaining outwardly chirpy to egg on the miserable suit-fearing man.

We got there just about on time. As I shuffled through the lobby like a subcontinental geisha, a little girl squealed: “Look daddy, a princess.” And everyone turned to look at me.

This freak theme is a recurring one lately.

I quickly posed for a photograph with her and started moving towards the reception. The Indian canapes were running out with every wasted second. I came across a platter of spring rolls. Then salmon blinis. And then the bombshell.

Tonight, people, we are having a three-course traditional British dinner. I choked on my mini fishcake as uncle delivered the blow. I’d greeted half the aunties. I couldn’t run away now.

I pulled the pregnancy card after dessert and made for the exit. The next day, I feasted on Diwali leftover Dahi Wale Aloo, a supermarket mini naan and some delicious Khanum lime pickle from the box of treats they sent me.

Hardly any effort but worth every minute this time.

PS = I used new potatoes to save peeling time. But by all means use cubed white potatoes…

Feeds 4-5:

• 500gm new potatoes
• 4 large tomatoes
• 1 tsp ginger, minced or pureed
• 1 tsp whole cumin
• 2 tsp coriander powder
• Half tsp turmeric powder
• Half tsp chilli powder
• Hald tsp garam masala
• Pinch asafoetida
• 125gm thick yogurt
• 1 tsp oil
• Salt to taste

Take the yogurt out of the fridge and leave to rest at room temperature. Put the potatoes in a microwaveable dish with half a cup of water, cover and cook for five minutes until soft. I did this in the microwave to save time and preserve the vitamins but you can also boil them on the hob. In the meantime, chop up the tomatoes into little bits.

Leave the potatoes to sit in their water and bring the oil to heat in a frying pan over a high heat. When the oil is hot, add in the asafoetida and cumin. As they sizzle up, stir in the ginger and a few seconds later mix in the tomatoes and turmeric, chilli and coriander.

Stir for five minutes until the tomatoes are completely disintegrated and then chuck in the potatoes and their water. Lower the flame to a gentle simmer and as the potatoes soak up the lovely flavours, beat the yogurt well.

Now take the pan off the flame and stir in the whisked yogurt. Stick the pan back on the flame and simmer for five minutes until the masalas are well mixed thrugh. Stir in the salt and garam masala and serve two days later, with buttered ready naan.

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.