She is as concerned about her manicure as she is about her paneer pieces being uniform. UK-based Mallika Basu whose cookbook, Miss Masala, is just out in bookstores, tells Sunday Mid Day what she liked feeding grandfather Jyoti Basu, and that it's possible to be a career woman and a domestic goddess, in one life
She is as concerned about her manicure as she is about her paneer pieces being uniform. UK-based Mallika Basu whose cookbook, Miss Masala, is just out in bookstores, tells Sunday Mid Day what she liked feeding grandfather Jyoti Basu, and that it's possible to be a career woman and a domestic goddess, in one life
The perfect carrot halwa, any true-blue Indian grandmother will tell you, is lovingly incepted in the hand grater. But Mallika Basu, 32, doesn't give a damn. For one, grating devastates her nails. For another, she's not ready to sacrifice her hands at the altar of the decadent dessert. She simply shreds the stuff in a food processor. Quickly and efficiently.u00a0
Corporate superbitch to cook
For the director of a London-based public relations firm and the mother of an 18 month-old, Basu is always hard-pressed for time. The author of the just-launched cookbook, Miss Masala: Real Indian Cooking for Busy Living, which addresses career women keen on experimenting with Indian cuisine, likes to call herself a 'corporate superbitch'.
Obviously, the eldest granddaughter of former chief minister of West Bengal, the late Jyoti Basu, carries no untoward baggage.
A fact that steers her through her sassily written, chick-littish cookbook, which, for all its smart-alecky tone and amusing anecdotes, is simple and uncompromisingly functional. It is peppered with useful tips on how to keep to a bare minimum all damage to the manicure and reduce all possibility of a smelly living room even while cooking up a perfect Indian meal.
Cooking desi style
Was Basu always a first-class cook? Not a chance. Growing up in Kolkata, she had never entered the kitchen till she left the country. A university student in England, she had her first tryst with burnt frozen pizzas in cold Birmingham. Soon, she was aching for home-cooked Indian fare. Grappling with cookbooks, she realised that "there are all those secrets you can learn only from experience".
The experiments began with a frenzy and in no time she was feeding anyone open to the idea. And her art was slowly reaching perfection.u00a0
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"I am a moody, social cook. Feeding people is a joy and I love to be praised," says Basu, who was recently in India for the promotion of her book.
The attractively packaged, hand-bag-sized Miss Masala is not just about recipes. Cheekily dedicated to a "boss who said I couldn't write", it is forthright, amusing and a fine read. "I'm a high strung, fun person," Basu twinkles. Six months pregnant with her second baby, she bubbles with energy. Ask her about the boss, and pat comes her reply, "I might get into legal trouble if I say any more, so I'll pass."
Blog to book
Though innovative in her methods, Basu is committed to authenticity. "The end result must taste like the real thing. We have too strong a heritage of food in our country to tamper with the taste and flavour of a particular dish."
And so, even if she uses gadgets where purists would only use their hands, no less, she is sold to the original taste of time-honoured favourites. "But I am health-conscious too. My book, born out of my food blog, is for the woman of today, who is nothing if she is not keenly aware of the flipside of oily fare. Spices used in moderation are a different story altogether," she says.
And so the dishes that are meant to be spicy are that way, red chillies and all. "But I always recommend using your individual palate as a guide to avoid ravaging your insides," she warns.
If Basu cooked soups, pastas and salads for her famous grandfather, her abiding interest remains Indian cuisine. Although her Peruvian fashion photographer husband cooks up a fine Lomo Saltada (stir-fried beef cooked with tomatoes and onions and served with rice and chips) from his native land, he is not a keen cook. And so, Gaylord in London remains her favourite Indian food joint.
Miss Masala: Real Indian Cooking for Busy Living, is published by HarperCollins, priced at Rs 699
Cut-n-keep recipes from Miss Masala...
Chapter: Showing Off
Dish: Jerdaloo Sali Boti (Tender lamb shank curry with apricots)
Page 165
Mother has developed more than a theoretical interest in cooking over recent years. Now she arrives in London every summer armed with contact lens solution, a caseful of spices and a wealth of interesting recipes. Which she then copies into my battered notebook with useful instructions (not) like: 'Add usual dhaniya, jeera masalas.'
Cryptic directions apart, her recipe for a rich, sweet and sour Parsi lamb shank curry has turned into one of my signature dishes for small parties. The ingredients are store-cupboard basics and shanks are one of the more common cuts of lamb available. Better still, the chips and rice they are served with form the basis of a complete meal. No need for any extras!
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Feeds 4
You need:
8 black peppercorns
5 cm (2 in) cinnamon stick
8 green cardamoms
4 cm (1u00a01/2 in) root ginger
4 fat garlic cloves
2 medium onions
2 medium tomatoes
4 tbsp oil
1/2u00a0tsp cumin powder
1 tsp coriander powder
1/2 tsp chilli powder
4 lamb shanks (about 750 g /1lb 10 oz in total)
2 large potatoes
1 tsp granulated sugar
3 drops of Worcestershire sauce
20 dried apricots
salt
Method: Preheat the oven to 200 C (400 F), gas mark 6.
Place the whole spices on a baking sheet and dry-roast for 30 seconds until the cardamoms turn pale brown. Remove from the oven, leaving it to bake the lamb later.
Peel the ginger and garlic, then puree in a hand blender with the roasted spices and a tablespoon of water. Peel the onions and roughly chop these and the tomatoes.
Pour 3 tablespoons of the oil into a large pan set over a high heat. The pan should be large enough to hold the lamb shanks in a single layer. When the oil is hot, add the onions and fry for about 10 minutes until they turn a pale caramel colour. Then add the spice paste and stir for another 5 minutes until the onions soften further.
Now add the spice powders, the lamb shanks and the tomatoes, and stir like mad for 10 minutes. Add salt to taste; cover the shanks in hot water, place a lid on the pan and leave to cook on medium heat for 1 hour. Stir from time to time to make sure the ingredients don't get stuck to the bottom of the pan.
In the meantime, peel and slice the potatoes into slim straws, place on a baking sheet and coat with the remaining tablespoon of oil. Sprinkle with salt and bake for about 25 minutes, flipping them over midway.
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Remove from the oven as soon as they are done, to prevent them from going soggy. You could use ready-made oven chips instead, but I think it's far more satisfying to make your own.
When the lamb falls away from the bone when probed with a fork, sprinkle over the sugar, the Worcestershire sauce and the apricots. The curry should be rich and thick, so do add a bit of water if it is too dry, or whack up the heat and stir ferociously if it's too runny.
To serve, spoon a lamb shank on to a plate with a serving of chips and Parsi Brown Rice. Then lap up all the compliments that come your way.
Chapter: Showing Off
Dish: Cholar dal (Sweet and spicy coconut and raisin lentils)
Page 145
Bengali weddings are incomplete without two things: routine jokes about bodily functions, and this rich and complex dal. You sit on rickety chairs by wooden tables, while waiters serve measured spoonfuls of Cholar Dal on banana-leaf plates. Just as you are about to scoop the dal up with Luchi -- light, fluffy, flaky little Indian breads (known in the north as 'pooris') -- the inappropriate jokes commence.
As with a lot of other Bengali dishes, this dal has a hint of sweetness and is best enjoyed thick and piping hot. The ghee is not optional. Leave it out and you'll miss an important ingredient of this celebratory wonder.
Feeds 4 Vegetarian
You need:
250 g (9oz) channa (split yellow) lentils
1/2u00a0tsp cumin powder
1/2 tsp coriander powder
1 tsp turmeric powder
1/2 tsp granulated sugar
2 tbsp ghee
2 tbsp diced fresh coconut
1 tsp garam masala
1/2 tsp chilli powder
1 fresh green finger chilli
2 tbsp raisins
salt
Method: Wash the lentils thoroughly in a sieve under cold running water. Transfer them to a large pan, adding three times as much cold water as lentils.
Bring the lentils to the boil. When they start bubbling, add the cumin, coriander, turmeric and sugar and boil until the lentils are soft to the touch but still intact. This should take a good 30 minutes. But don't wander off - the lentils may bubble over. If they do, just take off the heat for a few seconds and stir ferociously.
Now push the lentils to the edge of the pan and mash them up with a wooden spoon. You will need to do this about four times to ensure the lentils are mashed enough to thicken the dal. In a separate little pan, heat the ghee on a high setting, and when hot add the diced coconut, garam masala, chilli powder and green finger chilli.
Fry for 30 seconds and then add to the lentils. Stir in the raisins and add some salt to taste. Voila!