Far Off India’s Beaten Path

THE GREAT CURRIES OF INDIA

By Camellia Panjabi

(Simon & Schuster, 1995; $30, 192 pp.)

*

My eyes glazed over when I saw the title: “The Great Curries of India.” And the book featured gorgeous color photos of every dish too. Oh boy, I thought; just what the world needs: another coffee table cookbook.

It turned out to be much more than a collection of familiar “great” Indian dishes. There was extensive background on Indian cooking, particularly on ingredients; it’s the only cookbook I’ve seen that gives detail (with photos) on the different chile varieties and strains of rice used in India. And many of these recipes are majestic.

Camellia Panjabi’s name will be familiar to old India hands, because she has long been associated with the Taj group of hotels. In the ‘60s, she developed a very grand restaurant named Tanjore, which made the very idea of dining out fashionable in Bombay, and she went on to oversee similar restaurant projects for the Taj group in other Indian cities.

But there was an odd thing about Tanjore. Although it was named for a city in South India, nobody on her team seriously considered serving Tanjore-style food, which they assumed to be simple Brahmin vegetarian fare (they really had no idea what people ate in Tanjore). In India, as in this country, there’s a feeling that when people go to an Indian restaurant, they want Punjabi cuisine: naan bread, chicken makhani, tandoori stuff.

The fact is that India has no restaurant tradition, partly because of the importance of offering hospitality in the home and partly because of caste restrictions on whom one can accept food from. And when restaurants first appeared there in the ‘40s and ‘50s, it was enterprising Punjabi refugees from Pakistan who started them. Punjabis are also the largest group of restaurant-goers in India.

Punjabis want to eat Punjabi food when they go out. And people from other parts of India have come to expect Punjabi food in restaurants. The result is that even Calcutta, the sophisticated capital of Bengal, doesn’t support a single Bengali restaurant.

The experience of the Tanjore project got the author thinking about the possibility of showcasing regional cuisines. She met endless resistance and finally decided to show them all by opening a Bombay-style restaurant in London, Bombay Brasserie, which was a big success.

The experience also started her looking for interesting recipes, and the ones she includes here certainly are interesting. Only Julie Sahni’s books have recipes as far off the beaten track as these: a Kashmiri winter curry of lamb with turnips; a mild, slightly sweet lamb curry cooked in milk; a dish for which green chiles stuffed with spices are fried before the meat is added; a home-style lamb curry calling for 35 cardamom pods; chicken in pistachio sauce; Bengali fish in mustard and coconut gravy.

The vegetarian curries aren’t obvious ones either. Many are for fruits: mango curry, dried fruit curry, even watermelon curry. For the last, only the spice mixture is cooked.

Only a few of the dishes are humble, everyday food, although there’s a genuine Madras curry--it contains coconut and poppy seed, of course. Most are upper-class party cookery.

And some reflect the genuine, undiluted Moghul tradition of Muslim India, a cuisine of calculated drop-dead impressiveness, such as chicken korma in a white sauce based on yogurt and almonds. (Shahjehan, who built the Taj Mahal, often had all-white banquets on moonlit nights). The teaspoon of powdered rose petals is optional.

Unfortunately, this marvelous book is undermined by the fact that the recipes haven’t been thoroughly edited. Every one I’ve tried contained some oversight or ambiguity.

One recipe calls for four cardamoms but never says what to do with them--when to add them or whether they should be left whole or ground. Early on, another says, “To make gravy, whisk the yogurt and set aside.” The color of the sauce in the accompanying photo makes it clear that the yogurt is added at some point (during cooking? off the stove?), but the recipe never mentions the yogurt again.

There’s a spicy pork recipe that calls for palm sugar to taste, but the recipe never reminds you to put it in. I noticed this only when the dish was almost all eaten, and I certainly wish I’d known earlier--it makes a difference. A lamb and potato curry calls for jera powder, which is never explained in the book but must mean ground cumin. On the other hand, the same ingredients list also calls for cumin seeds by the ordinary English name.

The three recipes given here have been tested and corrected in The Times Test Kitchen, and you can cook them right off. As chicken Chettinad appears in the book, though, it isn’t explained when to add the garam masala (logically it must go into the spice paste). In lamb shank korma, the problem is relatively minor. Panjabi just doesn’t make it clear that the oil from frying the onions is discarded and subsequent sauteing is done in fresh oil.

So although this is in most ways a wonderful book, if you want something you can just open and cook from, you’ll have trouble with it. It can be recommended only to adventurous and knowledgeable cooks who can fill in the holes.

LAMB SHANK KORMA

Lucknow, a city renowned among India’s Muslims for its elegant way of life, is where this refined, highly aromatic dish comes from. Kewra essence, available at Indian import shops, is an exotic flavoring reminiscent of roses, jasmine and sandalwood; it can be overwhelming, so be careful not to add too much. Read the label of your yogurt. For cooking purposes, it should list dairy products and yogurt microbes but no thickeners such as gelatin or tapioca.

GARAM MASALA

1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1/4 teaspoon ground cloves

1/4 teaspoon black pepper

1/8 teaspoon ground cardamom or 1 green cardamom pod

Mix cinnamon, cloves, ground pepper and cardamom. If using green cardamom pod, remove seeds from husk and pound to powder before adding.

LAMB SHANKS

Saffron

2 to 3 teaspoons kewra essence or rose water

1/2 cup vegetable oil

2 onions

1 1/2 ounces (1/3 cup) raw cashews

4 serrano chiles, chopped

2 bay leaves

1 tablespoon minced ginger root

1 tablespoon minced garlic

2 to 3 lamb shanks, about 2 to 2 1/2 pounds total

2 teaspoons ground coriander

1 1/2 teaspoons salt

2 teaspoons cayenne

3 tablespoons plain yogurt

3/4 teaspoon ground mace

1/2 teaspoon ground cardamom or 3 green cardamom pods, husked and crushed

1 quart water

Juice of 1 lime

Lightly crush several threads of saffron and soak in kewra water at least 15 minutes.

Put 1/4 cup oil in skillet. Slice onions thin and fry until medium brown, 8 to 10 minutes. Add cashews and fry until onions are quite brown, 5 minutes longer. Tip skillet up and use spatula to press oil out of onion mixture. Discard oil and transfer onion mixture to bowl. When cool, puree in food processor.

Put remaining 1/4 cup oil in skillet and add chiles, bay leaves, ginger, garlic, lamb shanks, coriander, 1/2 Garam Masala and salt. Saute over medium heat 10 minutes, stirring continuously.

Reduce heat to low. Add cayenne and yogurt, stir continuously 3 minutes and simmer until yogurt is absorbed, 3 to 5 minutes. Add remaining 1/2 Garam Masala, mace and cardamom and saute 2 to 3 minutes. Add water, bring to boil, reduce heat to medium-low, cover and cook until lamb shanks are tender, 2 hours.

When lamb is done, remove to warm oven; debone if wished. Stir in reserved onion mixture and reduce over medium-high heat, stirring constantly, until silky brown gravy forms, about 10 minutes. Add lime juice and saffron-kewra mixture. Stir meat in sauce to coat. Serve with rice.

Makes 4 servings.

Each serving contains about:

330 calories; 921 mg sodium; 32 mg cholesterol; 27 grams fat; 15 grams carbohydrates; 11 grams protein; 1.22 grams fiber.

CHICKEN CHETTINAD

This recipe, called kozhi varatha kosambu in Tamil, comes from a region in the extreme south of India known as Chettinad. There’s a sneaky pepperiness to it and a whiff of fennel and star anise.

GARAM MASALA

1/4 teaspoon cinnamon

1/4 teaspoon ground cloves

1/4 teaspoon black pepper

1/8 teaspoon ground cardamom or 1 green cardamom pod

Mix cinnamon, cloves, pepper and cardamom. If using green cardamom pod, remove seeds from husk and crush before adding.

CHICKEN

2 teaspoons white poppy seeds

1/2 pound fresh coconut or 2 cups grated unsweetened coconut

1 teaspoon fennel seeds

1 (1-inch) cinnamon stick

3 green cardamom pods

2 cloves

3/4 teaspoon turmeric powder

1/4 cup vegetable oil

1 large onion, diced

2 teaspoons minced ginger root

2 teaspoons minced garlic

1/2 star anise

1 tablespoon cayenne

1 (2 1/2-pound) chicken, cut up

3 small tomatoes, chopped

2 cups water

Salt

Juice of 1/2 lime

1/3 cup chopped cilantro

On griddle or crepe pan, toast poppy seeds until light brown, 2 to 3 minutes. Crush with rolling pin and soak in small amount of water 15 minutes. Grind coconut with poppy and fennel seeds, cinnamon, cardamom pods, cloves, turmeric and Garam Masala to make fine paste.

Heat oil in large skillet, add onion and saute until lightly golden, about 3 minutes. Add ginger and garlic and saute 2 minutes. Add star anise, cayenne and spice paste and saute 5 minutes.

Add chicken pieces and saute 5 minutes. Add tomatoes. When juice has evaporated, add water and salt to taste. Bring to boil and reduce heat to medium-low. Cook until juices from chicken run clear, about 25 to 30 minutes. Add lime juice and cook 2 to 3 minutes. Just before serving, sprinkle with cilantro.

Makes 4 servings.

Each serving contains about:

628 calories; 191 mg sodium; 108 mg cholesterol; 50 grams fat; 13 grams carbohydrates; 30 grams protein; 2.77 grams fiber.

CABBAGE WITH MUSTARD SEEDS

Panjabi gives some simple recipes for vegetable side dishes and fresh relishes at the end of the book. This is a good one for the cruciferous-minded.

1 (14- to 16-ounce) head cabbage

Salt

Water

1/4 cup vegetable oil

1/4 teaspoon mustard seeds

1 serrano chile, chopped

1 teaspoon minced ginger root

10 curry leaves, optional

1/4 to 1/2 teaspoon sugar

Shred cabbage and soak in salted water to cover 15 minutes. Drain.

Put oil in large skillet, heat to medium-high and add mustard seeds. When seeds crackle, add chile, ginger and optional curry leaves. Saute 1 minute. Add cabbage, salt and sugar to taste. Saute, mixing all ingredients well. Cook uncovered over low heat, stirring occasionally, until done to preferred consistency.

Makes 4 servings.

Each serving contains about:

147 calories; 166 mg sodium; 0 cholesterol; 14 grams fat; 6 grams carbohydrates; 1 gram protein; 0.86 gram fiber.