Ramadan

As is so often the case in Indian cooking, butter is the “secret” ingredient here, one that gives the chicken extra moisture and richness. The combination of that, mild spices, and grilling is what has made this dish so popular in the West. Serve with plain Paratha (page 559) and mint chutney, if you can.

This variation of Biryani (preceding recipe) is spicier, creamier, and somewhat more complicated. Go easy on the cayenne: this is meant to be a fragrant dish, not a fiery one. Serve with Dal (page 433) or any Indian-style vegetable.

When you open the lid of a pot containing good biryani—the Indian equivalent of arroz con pollo or paella—the smell should drive you wild: chicken (or lamb), butter, and spices should dominate, followed by the subtle aroma of basmati rice. When it’s prepared correctly, it seems to me, you can even smell the salt. This is one of India’s—indeed the world’s—great dishes, and yet too often in restaurants it is underwhelming, underspiced, and made without care. The spice mixture makes the dish exotic, but though it must be made carefully it isn’t difficult. (The chicken isn’t browned, which actually makes it easier than many similar preparations.) One key is to use real butter (in sufficient quantity; I’m sure the ultimate biryani has more butter than this version) and good spices: cardamom in the pod, whole cloves, cinnamon stick, and real saffron. Good coarse salt doesn’t hurt either and, needless to say, the better the chicken, the happier you’ll be when you bite into it. It’s also important to leave the lid on as much as possible. I’m not one of these people who believes that rice must be cooked undisturbed (on the contrary, I think it stands up to all kinds of abuse), but in this instance you want to make sure the chicken cooks fairly quickly and that as much of the aroma as possible remains in the pot. The goal, remember, is to smell everything. Serve with Dal (page 433) or any Indian-style vegetable.

You cannot make “authentic” tandoori chicken without a tandoor, the clay oven closely associated with Indian cooking and used to make many of that country’s wonderful breads. But you can replicate the seasonings and grill or broil it so that it becomes very similar to the original. It isn’t difficult, and it’s really rewarding. Most tandoori chicken gets its bright red color from food coloring, but some cooks use a mild chile powder or a healthy dose of paprika, and that’s what I do here. Nice with Tomato Salad with Ginger (page 173) or Panfried Spicy Potatoes with Eggplant (page 476). Equally good with Paratha (page 559) or even plain rice.

This tagine is similar to the preceding Chicken and Lentil Tagine but, with the addition of dates and vanilla, far more exotic. My version of this tagine may not compare with those that begin with toasting and grinding spices and peeling grapes, but it’s easily executed (especially since the chicken is not browned first, which spares the cook a fair amount of time and energy) and, I think, quite divine. Some things to look out for: First, work with dark meat chicken only. In Morocco, the breast might be propped up out of the way so it almost steams and remains moist, but this is impractical without a special pot (also called a tagine). Be aware that tagines are on the dry side, so don’t add liquid to the sauce unless it’s threatening to burn. Home-cooked chickpeas and fresh tomatoes are, of course, preferable to the canned varieties, but in this dish the differences are not marked. Do, however, use a vanilla bean. If all you have is vanilla extract, omit the vanilla entirely.

A tagine is the name of both a stew and the pot it’s served in. A North African specialty, it differs from other stews primarily in its sweet spicing. This one, featuring chicken, is bright yellow and alluring. Serve it with rice, warmed pitas, or crusty bread.

This is the recipe of my friend Vikram Vij, whose Vancouver restaurant, Vij’s, is among the best Indian restaurants in North America. Other cuts of meat you can use here: Beef tenderloin (filet mignon), cut into medallions. Pilaf (page 513), Dal (page 433), and other standard Indian accompaniments would do nicely here.

Boiled chicken may seem a thing of the past, but if the chicken is good to begin with, you don’t overcook it, and you serve it with this classic walnut sauce— sometimes called tarator or skordalia—it can be quite fabulous. Make the chicken and the sauce in advance if you like; both are good at room temperature. And, if you prefer, sauté the chicken and serve it with this sauce; see, for example, Chicken Escabeche (page 294) for the cooking technique. If you want to make the sauce without stock, see page 600. Walnut sauce, or tarator, is good not only with chicken but also with plain steamed vegetables— that’s what I’d serve with this, perhaps along with a rice or potato dish.

There is a whole class of Kashmiri, Pakistani, and northern Indian meatballs that have the reputation of being extremely difficult to make, because the meat must be minced and pounded repeatedly until very, very smooth. But guess what? The food processor is so efficient at this that the meatballs are now practically fast food. Typically quite large, meaning one or two per person is plenty. Serve with any rice dish, or Paratha (page 559). Haaq (page 487) is another typical dish from Kashmir that would go well here.

Like much of the food from the northern reaches of India (these are actually Kashmiri in origin), these fruit-stuffed meatballs have an exotic air about them. Serve with pilaf or one of the Indian breads on pages 559–565. Other meat you can use here: ground veal, pork, or beef.

One of the staples of the subcontinent, dal is not only daily fare but something to be relished with many meals. Serve this with Basic Long-Grain Rice (page 506) or any pilaf (pages 513–514). If you have the time (and forethought) to soak the lentils, they’ll cook more quickly, but it is far from necessary. Other legumes you can prepare this way: chickpeas (far longer cooking time), red beans.

One of the best vegetarian dishes of India, the chickpea dumpling is the equal of those made of meat without mimicking them, and the yogurt sauce is creamy and delicious. Some people soak the chickpea dumplings in water after frying them, which gives them a lovely and delicate texture; others leave them crisp, adding them to the sauce at the last minute. The choice is yours; I enjoy the crisp version more but happily eat and make both. You can buy chickpea flour and hing (asafetida, page 10) at any store selling Indian ingredients and at many Middle Eastern stores as well. One word about the preparation: Skilled cooks can make the sauce first, then the dumplings, or mix the dumpling batter, then turn to the sauce, then fry the dumplings while the sauce is simmering. The level of activity required to do this is somewhat frenetic, but if you are comfortable with kitchen multitasking, it will work out.

It took me a long time to figure out what was in this mysteriously flavored concoction, and even then I had to ask my host (who was from Kashmir, where this is common) what was going on here. The apples and eggplant complement each other perfectly, to the point where each loses a bit of its identity and gains something unusual. Serve this as a side dish any time you like, not just with Indian food.

One of the most popular dishes in Parsi (Zoroastrian) cuisine and wonderful with basmati (or brown) rice, this is traditionally made with pomfret, a fish that is not always readily available here. Use pompano, if you can find it, or any fillets, from mackerel to sole. You can prepare the banana leaf packages up to 3 hours in advance—just cover and refrigerate until ready to cook.

An unusual combination of textures and flavors, but—like the eggplant and apple mixture on page 458—one that really works. Serve in combination with other Indian dishes or as an unusual side dish with Western food. Other vegetables you can prepare this way: for the eggplant, substitute cauliflower or thick slices of red or yellow bell pepper or a combination.

Back in the days when I tackled such challenging projects, I made my own paneer, the fresh cheese that is integral to this dish of spicy spinach. Although you can buy paneer at markets specializing in Indian ingredients (and you can find these in almost every city), there is a superb substitute, and it’s sold everywhere: tofu. Like paneer, tofu is a fresh, quickly made cheese; it just happens to have a soy base rather than a cow’s milk base. But both are supremely bland, tender, and delicate. The curry powder used here should not be especially fiery or laden with black pepper, but on the sweet side, containing spices like nutmeg, cardamom, and cinnamon. (If you’re making your own, you’ll find a recipe on page 593; if you’re buying, just try to avoid mixes labeled hot.)

Raita is salad, relish, dip, and side dish in one. Yogurt-based, it usually includes something sharp to balance the sour blandness: onion, spices, mustard, even chiles. (It’s most closely associated with India, but similar mixtures are made in the Middle East.) The recipe here is the basic foundation of many raitas and is usually not eaten as is but added to according to preference. There are infinite variations, of which the ones that follow are among the most popular. All balance spicy curries well but are also good eaten on their own or as a dip for flatbreads, like those on pages 559–565.

You can probably buy premade chaat masala more easily than you can find some of its ingredients, which may include ground pomegranate seeds and other exotica. But this is a good, simple version, contributed by my friend chef Suvir Saran. The sourness, which is its defining characteristic, is provided by the distinctive amchoor, a powder made from dried mangoes. If you have the time, toast together in a dry skillet (as for Hot Curry Powder, page 592) whole cumin and coriander seeds, then grind them before mixing them with the other ingredients.

Lighter than Mint Chutney with Yogurt (following recipe), and, with its fresh ginger and garam masala, spicier. I’d serve it with grilled chicken or lamb.

Hot enough to counter the yogurt’s blandness and sweet enough to offset its sourness, complex with spice and bright and sparkling with a load of mint, this is the model mint chutney, a refreshing counterpoint to simple grilled lamb, beef, eggplant, salmon, even hamburger.