The weeks in the run up to Christmas are a blur. A crisis of sorts was brewing on the client front. Which means, not much was brewing on the home front.

I got ready in near darkness, pulling last night’s dinner out of the fridge for the kids lunch, before the mad work dash. In my infinite wisdom, I tasked the man with control of the weekday meals.

If there is a Peruvian food trend sweeping the world, it certainly hasn’t affected my half-Peruvian man. He is, singlehandedly, the prime customer for Sacla Pesto Pasta.

Cooking, for him, is the brave attempt to stir a jar of the sauce into overcooked pasta. He sent ripples of disgust through the Italian countryside, when he shared his penchant for stirring bacon and onions into pesto pasta on one of our holidays.

When he’s feeling less adventurous, he shoves a pizza into a hot oven. In between his special brand of creative cookery, and my rejection of the kitchen, the festive season came and went. And then, mierda, our food went stale.

So while I had great plans to start the year with a suitably decadent recipe, instead, I give you stale bread. And funnily, this post has been simmering long before this article on food wastage hit the headlines.

Honestly, I’m no stranger to the odd bit of food wastage. But over the years, I have found that a generous helping of spices can help rescue many ingredients beyond their prime. My top faves are:

• Navratan Korma, a spiced coconut curry with nine vegetables, served with steaming hot Basmati rice
• Pulao, of any sort really. Quick, and delicious, with a bowl of thick yoghurt and pickle
• Jhalfrezi, of chicken, beef or prawn, a quick stir fry with easy to source ingredients that can be bought on the way home

More recently, I’ve even turned 2 pints of milk into paneer. Something that I would have never considered in the not too distant past!

The recipe here is one that I grew up with in India. I suspect it had something to do with leftovers back then too. Bread Upma is a simple saute with fresh tomatoes and onions that doubles up as a lovely brunch or kid-friendly snack.

I have only one New Year’s Resolution this year, to get better at preventing perfectly good ingredients from making the dustbin heap! So please share your favourite recipes for leftovers, and let’s all have a less wasteful year ahead.

 
Read on for recipe »

It’s hard to be inane when the world is falling apart around you.

Two weeks ago, I had it all sussed. I was going to write a mega post. The one in which I regale you with tales about my office Christmas Party, the tots Nativity play and my “bad mother” hunt for a giant reindeer poster in pouring rain with a stonking hangover for an ill-fated festive pin-the-nose game at the Montessori Christmas Party.

The truth is, I have been distracted. First by innocent children not much older than Mini Basu in Sandy Hook. Then by a tragic incident involving a student in New Delhi.

I’m no stranger to the odd bit of ranting here. But I’m not going to launch into any political diatribes. Or literary essays. Far more eloquent writers have done a much better job than I could have dreamed of. Besides, this is a food blog. And, apparently, God help any food bloggers who who get ideas above (or below) their station.

The point I want to make, with a very heavy heart, is that while the world didn’t end like the Mayans predicted perhaps it is time for the world as we know it to end. Within every cruel, painful, tragic moment in history, there must be an important lesson for all of us.

At the turn of the New Year, I am holding on for dear life to my reserve of hope. Here it is, served with a platter of Chocolate Sandesh, a little twist on a Bengali favourite sweet. It’s taken me three goes to get this right, and I have to reluctantly admit that I made my very own paneer for the first time as store bought just doesn’t cut the mustard for that smooth melting texture.

One for rainy days, crafty moments with loved ones or if you fancy doing something a little different in the year to come. Wishing you and yours a bright 2013 full of happy new beginnings.
Read on for recipe »

My new boss has declared that “shy” clearly doesn’t feature in my vocabulary. That didn’t take long. And yet, I ummed and ahhd over the  Madhur Jaffrey vid post for the best part of two weeks. Wondering if the fine art of self promotion was being stretched just a tad too far.

The thing had been on the telly, so on it went.

Frankly, I couldn’t believe the whole thing. Film editing is clearly a finer art than self promotion. The sprogs look like they’ve been dip-dyed in gold dust. My hair looks like something out of a Pantene ad. And the kitchen worktop is far from the oil-stained chipboard reality it was back then, painted a dusky grey in haste the day before filming. Not to mention me bossing none other than Madhur Jaffrey in my own home.

The sad truth is that none of us are that spectacular. Most days are a blur of relentless meetings, the caffeine kicks to get the day started and the dash home to make sure I get to see the bundles before they crash for the night. To get through it all, I cook and eat good food. That means a bit of everything: Oriental, lots of pasta, British comfort cooking and, best of all for me, authentic Indian food.

The trick, to cooking Indian food, I have learnt is in a bit of planning and a bit of common sense. Both of which I generally struggle with. So on busy days, I:

1. Marinade meats to be cooked in the evening before I leave for work (or the night before). Takes minutes and means that you will get really succulent curry even if you speed things up by using a pressure cooker later or cook wok-style
2. Fish clothes out of the laundry basket to cook in. Why soil new clothes and increase the dirty laundry stash?
3. One for the ladies: Wear a shower cap. If you cook Indian food, you will smell of spices afterwards. If you’re not blessed with naturally gorgeous locks, you can have a quick shower later without the need for a full hair wash/blow dry
4. Spend one evening mincing ginger and garlic separately in my food processor/hand blender. Then spoon the stash into silicon ice cube trays , cover with cling film and freeze. This way I don’t need to get your fingers/grater dirty every time I cook and it’ll cut down cooking times. Pop the cubes out at the start of cooking so that they can defrost while you get everything else ready
5. Cook extra. If you’re not calling the takeaway, you might as well get a second meal out of your effort. Freeze for a rainy day or save in the fridge for the next day
6. Stick to readily-available ingredients. I tend to do weekly bulk shops for every day food, delivered from my local supermarket. Everything else I source during weekend trips, like frozen, fresh grated coconut from Oriental shops near our favourite Dim Sum haunt and Indian spices from the local sweet shop. Online shopping is good too, only if there are enough products in the basket to warrant the delivery charges and someone is home to collect

I often find inspiration at the end of a long day with a quick look on the blogosphere on my way home. That’s how I found this sublime, tangy and spicy mushroom stir fry recipe from Divya’s Easy Cooking and Vee’s Past, Present and Me that I chanced upon while searching for a decent way to use up some mushrooms and a bag of frozen shredded coconut. A quick stir fry, we scooped them up into torn chunks of readymade rotis for a mid week supper. With less chilli, it would have been great for the kids too.

So what are your tips to share for mid-week meals on busy days?

  Read on for recipe »

The kids are growing. The family home is sorted. So, inevitably the plans for global domination took centre stage again.

I have a new job people. In a ginormous communications consultancy. Just in time for Diwali.

Having children not so much led me to slip down the corporate ladder, as caused me to borderline fall off it entirely. Albeit briefly. So much stuff about the glass ceiling, the nappy wall, yada yada yada. My experience is that if you want to be treated equally, you have to act equally. In the workplace, this means few concessions. Sad. But true.

On the upside, the kids are totally worth it. I also get free toast before 9:00am, there’s a bar downstairs and my new colleagues are quite intrigued by my Indian cooking avatar. In the hope they will be invited to many feasts, no doubt.

I have stormed in and started cracking all manner of whips. While keeping schtum about my TV debut tomorrow in Episode 10 of Maddhur Jaffrey’s Curry Nation. This is, frankly, terrifying. I’ll be hiding under the couch in good time, with some cuddly toys for company and a glass of something cold and alcoholic for my nerves.

Just like I survived all those hideously loud firecrackers during my childhood in Kolkata. It’s all come full circle, see?

Here’s my feast for a year with great things ahead. For all you lovely people. Marking new beginnings and new ventures. A fully vegetarian meal to keep the tone auspicious and served with copious quantities of alcohol: Chana Masala, Kashmiri Paneer, Dahi Wale Aloo, Vegetable Pulao and Coconut Laddoos. I’ll share the Dahi Wale Aloo recipe, a sublime potato curry which was a staple Diwali lunch with Pooris at my Marwari friend’s Diwali day kitchen in Kolkata.

Happy Diwali everyone!

Read on for recipe »

Mother has arrived in London. In true Basu style, she ignored my pleas about every spice being available here and brought a lifetime’s supply of Kashmiri Masala and Kasuri Methi. Her mission, two-fold. To fatten her darling children. And to be the grandma with the mostest to the toddlers.

Now mother is more used to being fabulous than chopping onions. Far better at directing than doing. This is the star of the silver screen cum drama therapy practitioner that has most adults quivering with her fierce gaze and sharp words. Frankly, I’m just hoping she never reads this blog post. I may end up in a naughty corner myself.

But she is here to respond to a higher calling. I have a new job starting in November, which means I have the rare privilege of enjoying the brief life of a lady of leisure. The man and I are off to Phuket in Thailand for a dear friend’s wedding. And we are leaving the kids behind in the firm grip of mother, with nanny K and little sis ably assisting.

Preparations for the trip have started in earnest. Mother has successfully caused a short-term weight gain, while she masters gadgets and the toddler military regime. I have ordered a pair of denim shorts, checked into a kettlebells class and slowly started contemplating the reality of a week without the darling terrors.

Truth be told, I am about as worried about them as I am about mother turmeric staining my pristine new quartz worktop.

While strong women rule my roost, I am also missing the annual tryst with Ma Durga, the fierce Hindu warrior Goddess. I am not religious but this yearly celebration of good versus evil is our way to reconnect with London’s Bengali society. I will miss this, while sunning myself on a beach with a pina colada. Although I will be back in time for Halloween, Bonfire night and Diwali.

In anticipation of these important events, and in celebration of the strong women in my life, I made a Bengali moist lamb saute with no onions and garlic made specially during religious festivities called Niramish Mangsho. This translates to vegetarian meat which, of course, is an oxymoron. But the bottom line is that it tastes sublime and sports a thick and rich masala coating that I ended up licking off the empty pot. The key here is to use lamb or goat meat on the bone.

Have a fantastic festive season everyone. Say a prayer for my kids and the worktop, will ya?
Read on for recipe »