South Asian

A fresh chutney to serve with all Indian meals, it has a shelf life of 2–3 days if stored in the refrigerator. What is not used up may be easily frozen for another day.

At Bengali banquets, this chutney, along with deep-fried, puffed white-flour breads (loochis) and pappadoms, is served as the penultimate course, just before the dessert. Here in the Western world, I tend to serve it with the main meal: I layer it thickly on hamburgers, serve dollops with fried chicken and roast lamb, use it as a spread for cheese sandwiches, and, at Indian meals, offer it as a relish with my kebabs and curries.

This hot, savory chutney is from what used to be India’s northwest frontier but now is on Pakistan’s border with Afghanistan. There it is made with fresh red chilies, which have beautiful color and medium heat. They are not always easy to find, so I use a mixture of red bell peppers and cayenne pepper. They are always combined with nuts, generally almonds but sometimes walnuts. This chutney may be frozen. It is like gold in the bank. Serve it with kebabs, fritters, and with a general meal.

This simple sauce is perfect for spooning over fried fish, fried chicken, grilled meats, and any kind of kebab.

his is a salad from India’s western state of Gujarat. Two tablespoons of crushed roasted peanuts could be added to it just before serving and stirred in. It may be served with most Indian meals and lasts several days in the refrigerator if kept covered.

This Sri Lankan sambol may best be described as an accompanying salad or relish to be served at curry meals. You can make it as hot as you like.

There were many salad-like dishes made with seasonal fruit that my mother served with our lunches. If guavas were in season, they were pressed into service; it could also be star fruit, bananas, peaches, green mangoes, whatever was available in abundance. The seasonings in these salads did not vary much—salt, pepper, ground roasted cumin, Indian chili powders, made from red chilies and sometimes yellow chilies as well, sugar as needed, and lime juice. My mother made the salads herself, not in the kitchen but in the pantry and at the very last minute, just as we sat down to eat, so the fruit would not start “weeping” and get all watery. The seasoning amounts given in this recipe are approximate, since the taste of fruit can vary so much. Keep tasting as you go, adding more or less of the seasonings, as desired.

In much of India, a fresh salad is present at every single meal. This kind of cucumber salad was something that my mother threw together moments before we sat down to eat. Cucumbers with tiny undeveloped seeds have the best texture, but when cucumbers are growing wildly in my garden and some that hid themselves too successfully among the leaves have grown beyond the best picking size, I pick them anyway, peel them, and scoop out their seeds. They still make good eating. (Whenever I pick a particularly large, overgrown cucumber, I can never throw it in the compost heap because I think of Inder Dutt. At the age of thirteen, he came down from a poor village in the Himalayan mountains to try to eke out a living in the plains. In Delhi, he somehow managed to get into a cousin’s household where they taught him how to do odd jobs and eventually even how to cook. He became so adept that my cousin brought him to New York as her cook. Every now and then he would come over to our apartment to help out. I could never get enough of the stories about his childhood. He had spent the snowy mountain winters without shoes, huddling in the floor above the animals to stay warm at night. In the summers, he had to go work in the fields. When he got very thirsty, he would just pick the largest cucumber he could find, snap it in two, and quench his thirst with its juicy flesh.)

My North Indian family called this salaad, or salad, but similar salads with varying seasonings are known in some parts of India as cachumbar. These salads generally contain onions (our Indian red onions), cucumbers, and tomatoes but, according to the seasons, we in Delhi could find radishes or kohlrabi in them as well. In some parts of India, barely sprouted mung beans and peanuts could be added. This fresh salad was always at our table at every meal in some form, with the simplest of dressings added at the last minute. There was never any oil in this dressing. Instead, there was fresh lime juice, salt, pepper, chili powder, and ground roasted cumin seeds. We just put a generous dollop on our plates (or side plates) and ate it with everything.

A chapati is like a tortilla. Unlike a corn tortilla, it is made out of wheat flour. Unlike a wheat tortilla, it is made out of whole-wheat flour known as ata or chapati flour. You may use a tortilla press or a chapati press (they are almost the same) instead of rolling each one out with a rolling pin. Small thin chapatis (about 5 inches in diameter) are considered much more elegant than large thick ones, though you will find all sizes in the cities and villages of India. Those who eat chapatis daily eat them with everything at lunch and dinner. You break off a piece and enfold a piece of meat or vegetable in it. If you want to spice up the morsel a bit more, you brush it against a chutney or pickle. You could also roll up some food inside a whole chapati, to make a kind of “wrap,” though you would not do this at the table, only with leftovers to make a snack.

A poori requires almost the same dough as the chapati, except there is a little oil in it. It is rolled out almost the same way too, but then, instead of being cooked on a hot, griddle-like surface, it is deep-fried quickly in hot oil, making it puff up like a balloon. (When the same bread is made with white flour, as it is in Bengal, it is called a loochi.) Pooris may be eaten with all curries and vegetables. At breakfast, pooris are often served with potato dishes—such as Potato and Pea Curry or Potatoes with Cumin and Mustard Seeds—and hot pickles and chutneys. They are eaten very much like chapatis—you break off a piece and roll some vegetable in it, then brush it against a pickle or chutney. We always took them on picnics with us, all stacked up inside a tin. On picnics and train journeys, they were eaten with ground-meat dishes and pickles, all at room temperature.

The dough for the paratha is similar to that of a poori but is rolled out very differently to give it multiple layers. It is cooked on a cast-iron griddle rather like a pancake, with butter, ghee, or oil to keep it lubricated. This particular paratha, among the simplest to make, is triangular in shape. Parathas are a very popular breakfast food when they are eaten with yogurt and pickles. They may also be served at mealtimes with meats and vegetables.

This South Indian–style dish may also be made with shredded cabbage. Dried rice sticks are sold by East Asian grocers. You will notice that a little raw rice is used here as a seasoning. It provides a nutty texture. Serve with a lamb or beef curry or grilled meats.

Throughout southern India and Sri Lanka fine, homemade, steamed rice noodles are often served at mealtimes instead of rice and are known as idiappam (or string hoppers) in India and idiappa in Sri Lanka. Since making them is somewhat cumbersome, requiring a special mold and steaming equipment, I do the next best thing: I buy dried rice sticks from East Asian grocers and reconstitute them. These noodles could be served at breakfast with a little sugar and cardamom-flavored coconut milk and at major meals with curries—though in Sri Lanka I have had them with fish curries for breakfast to my great delight, and with fiery fish curries in Kerala for dinner.

Here is one of the great offerings from Kerala, a state on the southwest coast of India, where it is known as uppama. The semolina that is required here is a coarse-grained variety that is sold as sooji or rava in the Indian stores or as 10-minute Cream of Wheat in the supermarkets. (It is not the very fine version used to make pasta.) This pilaf-like dish may be eaten as a snack with tea, for breakfast with milky coffee and an accompanying coconut chutney (see Sri Lankan Cooked Coconut Chutney), or as part of a meal as the exquisite starch.

South Asians do not really eat brown rice, but many people in South India, western coastal India, and Sri Lanka enjoy a very nutritious red rice. The grains have a red hull that is only partially milled. This is eaten plain and also ground into flour to make pancakes and noodles. This recipe works for all the brown rices available in the West, and may be served with all South Asian meals.

Here is a recipe I have devised for the brown rices (and mixtures that combine brown rice with wild rice) usually found in Western markets. Served with vegetables and a yogurt relish, it makes a fine vegetarian meal. You may also serve this with meat and fish curries.

Bulgar, a wheat that has been cooked, cracked, and dried, is used in parts of the Punjab (northwestern India) to make a variety of nutritious pilafs. The coarser-grained bulgar is ideal here. Serve as you would a rice pilaf.

There are hundreds of versions of this salad-like dish that are eaten throughout South India and parts of western India as well. At its base is rice, the local starch and staple. (Think of the bread soups of Italy and the bread salads of the Middle East.) The rice is cooked so it is quite soft. Then yogurt, and sometimes a little milk as well, is added as well as any fruit (apple, grapes, pomegranate), raw vegetables (diced tomatoes, cucumbers), or lightly blanched vegetables (green beans, zucchini, peas) that one likes. The final step is what makes the salad completely Indian. A tiny amount of oil is heated and spices such as mustard seeds, curry leaves, and red chilies are thrown into it. Then the seasoned oil is poured over the rice salad to give it its pungency and reason for being. This cooling, soothing dish, somewhat like a risotto, makes a wonderful lunch. It is best served at room temperature, without being refrigerated. Other salads may be added to the meal.

This is such a soothing rice dish—slightly sweet and salty, with just a hint of black pepper. (Do not eat the peppercorns. Push them to the side of your plate. They are just for flavoring.) As the dish is South Indian, I have made it with jasmine rice, which is closer in texture to the shorter-grained rices commonly found in that region. I love to serve this with northern lamb and chicken curries, thus breaking tradition and combining north and south in an exciting new way.