Meera Sodha

I should address the awkward truth that I don’t use butter here but cream instead. You could, if you’re a stickler for tradition (and not a heretic like me), add a big slab of butter to the finished curry.

Oyster mushrooms are a strong all-rounder in the kitchen, seeming to straddle both plant and meat worlds in what they look and taste like when cooked. Here they’re coated in a marinade my mother used to use when cooking Chinese food at home—honey, soy, garlic and ginger—and roasted until golden, crisp, and juicy.

Among the top tier of sauces is Indonesian satay sauce, because it is the embodiment of joy and life. In fact, this sauce is also trustworthy and highly respectful of whatever it comes into contact with—perhaps it is, in fact, the perfect friend?

This pasta has some really big energy about it. It’s so extra, it’s the type of thing you should be eating in your bikini while drinking a magnum of rosé, not in Hebden Bridge (or wherever you live), but on a beach on Mykonos.

A practically perfect brownie: dense and fudgy thanks to the chia seeds; rich, but not sickeningly so; with a salted caramel-like flavor that comes from using white miso and salt together.

Standing three tiers high, the magnificent Bombay sandwich is a whopper of a construction. It’s available on every street corner, and each stallholder obsesses over their own special blend of spices, vegetables, and chutneys, for that “better than yours” taste. Although it’s a wonder, it’s also a labor of love to make at home, and so in this recipe I’ve attempted to embody its spirit—a sharp, hot green chutney, cheese, and onion—but in a pastry roll that can be made in just minutes.

This aromatic rice pudding is flavored with cinnamon and cardamom, and gets a topping of pistachios and edible flowers.

Packed full of a rainbow of colors, flavors, and textures, from spiced paneer, chickpeas, and tomatoes to roasted beets, sweet potatoes, and a citrusy coconut and cilantro sauce this is a vegetable dish for special occasions.

This creamy, frozen Indian dessert gets its flavor from finely ground pistachios and a pinch of floral, earthy saffron.

These milky little doughnuts are a burnished bronze on the outside, white and cakey inside, and soaked to the core with delicately flavored rose syrup.

Hindus consider cows and all their milky produce—cream, butter, and cheese—sacred. I can’t argue with that. Traditionally, this dish would be made with a few large slabs of golden butter; here I've swapped out that butter for cubes of paneer.