Herbs & Spices

Here I use boneless fish fillets with skin—porgies, red snapper, mackerel, bluefish, gray mullet, redfish, trout, or anything else of modest size. If the fillets are too long, I cut them into convenient 3–4-inch lengths so I can turn them easily in a frying pan. The spicy undercoat is made simply in a food processor or chopper, though you could chop finely by hand if you prefer. If you want to keep the meal simple, serve this fish with Potato Chaat and Spinach with Garlic and Cumin or a salad.

We sat on cushions at an open-air, rooftop restaurant in Peshawar, Pakistan. As it was winter, we had been offered quilts to cover our legs and small individual braziers to keep at our sides. The glow of tandoor clay ovens just a few paces away offered added consolation. It was from there that this fish dish emerged. It was a river fish caught nearby, cooked whole in the tandoor until its outside was browned and the inside was flaky and soft. It was the spices that gave the fish its kick. I asked the chef for the recipe, and here it is. I have had to make a few changes. Instead of the river fish I have used Spanish mackerel (you could also use filleted trout); instead of quick-roasting in a tandoor I pan-fry; instead of ajowan seeds, I have used dried thyme (both contain thymol); and instead of sour oranges I have used a mixture of lemon and sugar. It still tastes marvelous. In Peshawar, this was served with a simple Vinegar-Chili-Onion Dipping Sauce. That recipe is on page 242. You could serve this Western style with boiled parsley potatoes and some green beans, or with Carrots with Cilantro and Potatoes with Cumin and Mustard Seeds.

One of the characteristics of tandoori fish in the Punjab, where tandoori—or clay-oven-baked—meat and fish dishes originated, is that they are flavored with ajowan seeds. These tiny seeds look rather like small celery seeds, except that their main aroma comes from thymol, which you find in thyme as well. Instead of using ajowan (ajwain in India), I have simplified matters by using the more easily available thyme instead. Serving suggestions: For a very light meal, you can serve this fish with a salad. You could also make a more substantial meal by offering some rice and either Spinach with Garlic and Cumin or Swiss Chard with Ginger and Garlic.

Somewhere between the famous Mulligatawny Soup of the mixed-race Anglo-Indians and the soupy lentil-tomato-pasta dish, dal dholki, of the vegetarians of the western state of Gujarat, lies this soup. It is made with red lentils and tomatoes and may be served with a dollop of plain white rice or with some cooked pasta (pappardelle, noodles, macaroni) added to the soup just before it is heated for serving. This soup, plus a salad, makes for a perfect lunch or supper. There are three simple steps to follow here. First you boil up the lentils. As they cook, you sauté the seasonings. Then you combine the two and blend them.

This has always been a favorite soup of mine. I made it very recently with the last of the bell peppers on my plants. The leaves had shriveled already, but the peppers were still hanging on. It was such a cold, damp day that I decided to add some warming ginger to the soup for added comfort.

Gujaratis in western India do not actually drink soups as such. They do have many soupy dishes, which are meant to be eaten with flatbreads, rice, or spongy, savory, steamed cakes known as dhoklas. Here is one such dish. It makes for a gorgeous soup. I serve it with a little dollop of cream and a light sprinkling of ground roasted cumin (page 284), though these are not at all essential. In the summer months, I make my own tomato puree and use that to make the soup. Store-bought puree is perfectly good too. In Gujarat a similar dish is served with homemade noodles in it. It is known as dal dhokli. I sometimes throw small quantities of cooked pasta bow ties or even macaroni into the soup.

Here is a soup that is perfect for cold winter days, the ginger in it providing lasting warmth. The ginger also helps if you have a cold and acts as a stabilizer for those who suffer from travel sickness. Apart from all its health-giving properties (which Indians always have in the back of their heads), this is a delicious soup that can be served at any meal.

I make this a lot when tomatoes are in season. It makes for a simple, nutritious lunch or first course.

Here is a soup that I had in Pakistan’s most famous northwestern city, Peshawar. Many of the grander Muslim families, in both India and Pakistan, offer some form of aab gosht, or meat broth, at the start of a meal. Sometimes it comes in cups even before one is seated and requires just sipping. This is a variation of that and requires a spoon. What I was offered on a rather cold day was a steaming bowl of well-seasoned goat broth in which floated oyster mushrooms and slices of river fish. It was so delicious that I decided to come up with a version myself. I have used beef stock, though lamb stock would do as well. If you cannot get fresh oyster mushrooms, use the canned ones, sold by all Chinese grocers, or canned straw mushrooms. Just drain them and rinse them out.

The French drop a dollop of spicy, garlicky rouille in the center of fish soups. It perks them up. Well, this is its Indian incarnation, a quick version of the southern Yogurt Rice, perfect for placing in the center of not only the preceding Cold Cucumber Soup, but all manner of bean and split pea soups. I like to serve the soups in old-fashioned soup plates, which are shallower than soup bowls. This way the dollop of garnish stands up and is not drowned.

I love to make this soup in the summer, when my garden (or the local farmers market) is bursting with cucumbers and tomatoes and the weather is balmy. The first time I had this soup, or a version of it, was in the Maldives, at the Cocoa Island resort on the South Male Atoll, just southwest of India. For the soup, the chef, Stana Johnson, had combined South Indian seasonings and the notion of North India’s favorite cucumber raita, a yogurt relish, to fashion a light summery, cooling soup. I remember sitting in an airy pavilion, the calm blue sea on two sides of me, balmy breezes blowing past, sipping the soup a tablespoon at a time, and thinking, “This is what heaven must be like.” While the flavors were easy on the tongue, the soup was complicated to make. I have spent two years simplifying it, trying to retain its essence while cutting down on all the steps a large-staffed restaurant can do with ease. I like to serve the soup with a dollop of Yogurt Rice, page 26 or 217, right in its center. This is not essential. Just a light sprinkling of diced cucumbers and diced cherry tomatoes will do. But do try it once with the Yogurt Rice as well as the sprinkling of cucumbers and tomatoes. (You do not actually have to make the full Yogurt Rice recipe. A very quick version, made with leftover rice, follows.)

Before cooking, the meat-spice mixture requires a rest in the refrigerator to bring all the flavors together and to give the kebabs their requisite melt-in-the-mouth tenderness. If you cannot get a baking pan of just this size, something a bit smaller or a bit larger will do. (You could also use a 6-inch-square cake tin and cut the kebabs into rectangles—in which case, bake for only 30 minutes.) Serve these pâté-like kebabs with drinks, offering flatbread pieces or crackers to eat them with, or serve them as part of a meal with vegetables or salads. They need an accompanying chutney, such as the Peshawari Red Pepper Chutney, page 243, or the Bengali-Style Tomato Chutney, page 244.

This is easily one of my favorite first courses for dinner parties, one that I have served repeatedly over the years. Most of the work—and there is very little of it—can be done in advance, and the last-minute stir-frying, which is the ideal way to cook this, takes just a few minutes. If you wish to do the entire cooking in advance, you may, just remember to reheat the shrimp over a low flame. I have even served this dish with drinks. I just stick a toothpick in each shrimp and hand out napkins! If you cannot find fresh curry leaves, tear up 10 fresh basil leaves and use them instead.

Here you simply marinate eggplant slices in a spicy dressing and then grill them. When serving (hot or cold), spoon a dollop of yogurt seasoned with fresh mint on the top. It is cool and refreshing.

Known as bhajia, bhaja, pakora, and many other names in different parts of India, fritters are an integral part of every single local cuisine in the nation. The flour that is generally used is the protein-rich chickpea flour (though sometimes rice flour is mixed in for extra crunch). That is the constant. After that, anything can be “frittered”—leaves, roots, fish, roe, vegetables, you take your pick. The batter can be thick or thin, spicy or mild, you take your pick again. Most fritters are served with chutneys. Might I suggest Fresh Green Chutney, page 245, or Peshawari Red Pepper Chutney, page 243, here, but, if you do not have time, bottled tomato ketchup or a last-minute squeeze of lime juice will suffice. In India and Pakistan, fritters are eaten as a snack, with chutneys and tea. In Bangladesh, they can be the first course at a meal, served with rice. In the West, they have acquired another life altogether: they are served as an appetizer in restaurants and with drinks at catered parties. Ideally, these fritters, rather like French fries, are best eaten as soon as they come out of the frying pan. If that is not possible, make them ahead of time and reheat them in a medium oven for 10 minutes.

I often offer these as an appetizer. I serve them just the way they are, but you could also serve them on toasted slices of Italian bread or just buttered toast.

I love cheese toast the way it is done in India—with some chopped fresh green chilies and cilantro thrown in. We like to serve it with tea, as we seem to love the combination of spicy snacks and very hot tea! You can use any white bread (or brown, if you prefer), any cheese you like (I happen to like sharp cheddar), and the chilies could be fresh green ones (about 1/4 teaspoon, well chopped) but the pickled Greek ones are fine too, and, as I always have them on hand in my refrigerator and I like the tartness they provide, I use them instead. Some Anglo-Indian recipes have the yolks of hard-boiled eggs mixed with mustard spread inside the sandwich as well. I make my sandwich in a frying pan, but a panini press, if you have one of those, would work too.

Almonds are considered brain food in India. They were always given to us in the morning, especially before exams, after they had been soaked overnight and then peeled. Each one of us got seven almonds—don’t ask me why. So here is a delicious, lightly perfumed morning dose for two people. The soaking makes them taste a bit like green almonds. The perfume is an added bonus. You may serve them with drinks. I often offer dinner guests a few of these almonds just before I serve dessert and coffee.

Deep-frying in oil is the most popular way of cooking fish in the Arab world. The method—used for whole fish as well as steaks and fillets—was introduced to Spain and Sicily in the early Middle Ages by the Arabs.