Beetroot Thoran

I've always had a bit of a love hate relationship with beetroot; sometimes I can't get enough of it, and other times I push it away. I soon realised what the difference was; pickled or spicy beetroot preparations won favour over those paired with goats cheese. I still treat them with caution and they're not that kind of vegetable that I go rushing towards, but this dish helped get me in the right direction.

Thoran is from South India - more specifically, Kerala - and is a dry one, made by stir-frying vegetables with coconut, curry leaves and mustard seeds over a high heat. The coconut becomes more fragrant with the toasting of its flesh while the curry leaves impart their flavour to an otherwise simple dish.

While I wouldn't make it specifically to eat on it's own, it went very well with other saucy dishes such as the cauliflower and pea dhal that the grilled mackerel was sitting on. The earthy beetroot works well with the rich coconut flavours, and a squeeze of lemon brought it all to life.

You can use different vegetables with this; cabbage also works, as does green beans. Anything that can take a bit of stir-frying heat.

Beetroot Thoran

Serves 4 as a side

2 large beetroots, peeled and chopped into cubes

1 red onion sliced into half moons

2 green chillis chopped roughly

2 tsp black mustard seeds

3 tbsp unsweetened desiccated coconut - though grated fresh is best but a bit of a ballache

1 sprig of curry leaves

1 small handful of coriander, chopped

1 lemon

A hearty pinch of salt

Simmer the cubes of beetroot in water for 5 minutes, until tender. Drain well.

Heat up some vegetable oil and add the mustard seeds. Take the curry leaves off the sprig and add them. When the seeds begin to pop, add the red onion and the chilli and stir fry until softened. Add the beetroot, turn the heat right up and stir fry for a minute, then add the coconut and continue to stir-fry for another few minutes. It should be smelling nice and fragrant now. Add the lemon juice, salt and coriander, take off the heat and serve immediately.

Vinishas - Sri Lankan in Lewisham

My friends told me excitedly about a new Sri Lankan place near where I live; their tales of fiery curries and bargain prices meant a trip was scheduled soon after. The restaurant isn't big, with a handful of tables and we were the only customers there for a late lunch. Handed takeaway menus to peruse, the plasticky tablecloth and the radio station playing wasn't exactly a promising start.

Chilli paneer (£4.79) was cloyingly sweet and only with the gentlest of chilli kick. When our lovely waiter later came to take our dishes away and asked if it was ok, we told him how we felt and he took our criticism with enthusiasm. "Next time, we'll make it spicy!".

We fared better with the rest of our meal. Chilli appam (£1.19 each), also called hoppers were pancakes made with ground, soaked rice. This is mixed with coconut milk and water to form a batter, and then left to ferment for a few hours. This resulted in a pancake that was spongy in places and crisp in others, great textural contrasts. The chillis were atomic and my heartbeat rocketed after eating this. My stomach, so laden with cheese and cream and butter of the Christmas just past, was roused from its cosy swathes of fat.

The menu was littered with curry classics but I wanted to try the typical Sri Lankan dishes so instead opted for 'pittu (3 pcs) with mixed vegetable curry' (£4.29). The pittu (below picture, foreground) was 3 pieces of cylindrical ground rice layered with coconut and spices. This was a stodgy cake to be broken off into chunks and dipped in the vegetable curry. The curry was deceptively delicious; when it was first placed down it looked common enough, but on first taste it revealed complex and ferocious spicing. The pittu grew on me. At first I found it a bit bland but soon grew to love it as a coconut-tinged vehicle for the curry.

Mutton Kothu (£5) was on the lunchtime specials blackboard outside. When my friend ordered this he asked for 'proper spicy please, not mild white man stuff', to the amusement of our waiter. The silver dish turned up which contained far more than one would imagine; this fed both of us easily. The menu says you can choose what your Kothu is made up of and in this instance, it was parotta. Parotta is a Tamil Nadu layered flatbread, much like the Northern Indian paratha. Chopped up, the parotta is cooked on a hot griddle with egg, meat and spices and served with what is listed on the menu as bone gravy.

This was fantastically textured, the small pieces of bread feeling a bit like noodle. Everything is chopped up the same size giving a really pleasant mouthful. The pieces of mutton were sparse but tender, and the heat of the spices were a slow burn, gathering momentum as the dish was eaten.

We paid a paltry £8 a head for the above plus service. Although it wasn't a comfortable dining experience - don't sit by the window, unless you like cold gusts of wind freezing your sides - the food more than made up for it. The menu is extensive and I'm looking forward to going back to try the dosai, idiyappam, idly and sambols.

Vinishas

2 Loampit Hill
Lewisham SE13 7SW

Tel: 0208 691 7944

Aubergine & Tamarind Curry

Have I ever mentioned how much I love aubergines? It's borderline obsessive really. They're big meaty things with fantastic texture and they absorb flavours like a sponge, what's not to love? This curry is fairly similar to the aubergine, coconut and lime dhal in that they both contain aubergines, coconut - this time though, with a Thai twist and a sour tang that comes from tamarind.

A vivid orange curry was packed full of iron-rich cavolo nero and a head of pak choi that I had spare in the fridge; you can really use any green vegetable you like. Lots of dried red chillis were minced together with galangal, lemon grass and garlic to make a curry paste but it's the lime leaves thrown in while cooking that really gives it that fragrance the Thais do so well.

Aubergine & Tamarind Curry

Serves 2

For the spice paste:

A large handful of dried red chillis, rehydrated in boiling water
2 inches of galangal
6 cloves of garlic
1 stalk of lemongrass, inner soft part only
Half an onion
1 tbsp ground coriander
1 tsp shrimp paste
2 tbsp vegetable oil

Deseed the chillis and blitz all of the above with a little of the water from soaking the chillis.

1 medium aubergine
3 stalks of cavolo nero, or other dark leafy greens
4 lime leaves, torn roughly
1 can of coconut milk
A few seeds of tamarind - put these in a little boiling water and work the tamarind paste away from the seeds. Drain, reserving the tamarind paste. Alternatively, use 1.5 tbsp ready made tamarind paste
1 tbsp sugar, to taste
2 tbsp fish sauce (or to taste)
1 tbsp each of chopped basil and coriander

Slic the aubergines into fingers and fry in a little oil until coloured on both sides. Set aside. Heat some oil in a wok and add 2 tbsp of the curry paste. Stir fry until fragrant, then add the aubergines back in. Add the leafy greens and stir to coat. Add the coconut milk with the lime leaves and cook gently for 15 - 20 minutes.

Add the tamarind, the fish sauce tbsp by tbsp and the sugar; taste as you go. Add more of whatever you think it needs but keep tasting; it should be perfectly balanced.

Scatter with the chopped basil and coriander and serve with rice.

Thai Sour Fish Curry

I call it a curry but really it's more like a soup. I've been craving sour things recently, that bite of lime or tamarind and blazing heat on the tongue. I also have a habit of picking up new and unknown vegetables, and it just so happened that the 'bai yor' I bought on impulse is perfect for Thai fish curries. Thus a plan fell into place.

Firstly, a spicy curry paste is made. Various vegetables are simmered with stock and said curry paste, and the final touch is to blitz just-cooked white fish into flakes, then add it to the soup for essential fish flavour, texture and to thicken it up a bit. I used the cheapest white fish I could find for this, coley; alternatively, you could just drop chunks of white fish in to poach. The bai yor leaves go in last for a final simmer; they act like spinach and wilt down, adding a slightly bitter flavour to the dish. It's fine to leave out if you can't find it.

Sour Fish Curry

Serves 2

For the paste

5 red birds eye chillis
5 dried chillis
2 stalks of lemongrass, soft innards only
1 inch piece of galangal
2 tbsp tamarind paste
1 small onion
6 cloves of garlic
1 tsp sugar
1/2 tsp salt

Soften dried chillis in hot water. Deseed the chillis and blitz with the rest of the ingredients into a fine paste. You may need to add a little oil.

10 prawns
200gr white fish
A handful of green beans
A few leaves of Chinese cabbage
A few bai yor leaves (optional)
2 tbsp fish sauce
1 lime
300mls fish or chicken stock
A handful of coriander, chopped

In a pan, add the curry paste and fry gently for a few minutes. Add the stock and the Chinese cabbage, then then green beans cut into inch long pieces. Simmer for a few minutes. Either add the fish in chunks or cook the fish separately and blitz into flakes, then add to the soup. Add the bai yor, fish sauce, then the prawns and cook until the prawns turn pink and take off the heat immediately. Serve with a wedge of lime and rice, if desired.

Chicken & Spinach Dhansak

I wasn't going to blog this, as I broke the cardinal sin of curry making and rather than faff around toasting and grinding my whole spices, I USED CURRY POWDER. Yep, there it is. I supplemented it with other spices too, but being someone who previously turned their nose up at pre-mixed curry powders, I was staggered to find it was one of the most delicious curries I've made.

Dhansak has always been a takeaway favourite of mine, owing to the texture of the lentils as well as the sweet, sour and hot balance of flavours. I haven't really followed a recipe here but rather did it by intuition, so apologies to the authenticity police. Given it took a mere hour to make, this is a keeper. It was served with this onion and pomegranate salad (I jazzed it up by adding chilli and cucumber) and rice - excess pomegranate seeds went into the curry, which gave some nice tart bursts of flavour.

Chicken & Spinach Dhansak

Serves 4

250gr chicken thighs, skinned and boned
150gr dried red lentils
2 tbsp medium curry powder (I used Sainsburys)
1 heaped tsp turmeric
2 tsp ground cumin
1 tsp garam masala
3 cardamom pods
1 tsp salt
1 tsp chilli powder
2 large white onions
6 cloves of garlic
3" ginger
A bunch of spinach, or about 300gr frozen spinach
1 tin of tomatoes
3 tsp sugar
1 lime or 3 tsp tamarind puree
3 tbsp ghee

Dice the onion finely and mince the garlic and ginger. Fry slowly in the ghee until nice and browned. Add the lentils in with the spices, stir to cover and add about 200mls water. Bring to a simmer and simmer briskly for 10 minutes. Add the tinned tomatoes in. Simmer for another 10 mins, then add the chicken thighs in. Carry on simmering; the lentils should have broken down by now, making it nice and thick. Stir occasionally and add the salt. Add the sugar - it looks like a lot of it but the lime is quite strong so it should level it out nicely.

Meanwhile, if you're using fresh spinach wash and steam it, then blend it until smooth. If using frozen, cook briefly so it's defrosted but not overcooked. Drain well. Just before serving, mix the spinach in with the curry and squeeze the lime juice in. Cook for a further 2 minutes, then take off the heat.

Beef Rendang

Beef rendang has been on my to-make list for ages. I was tempted and teased by these blog posts, and last Sunday I finally got my arse into gear and was well rewarded for my efforts. Rich, thick, unctuous and intensely beefy, the meat is cooked in various spices and coconut milk, with the liquid finally reducing so that it then fries in all the leftover oils.

It's not for the faint-hearted - literally, the amount of fat in there almost makes my heart stop - but, you know, you could eat salad for a week after or something. Scooped up with a hot flaky roti, pepped up with the sweetness and crunch of an onion salad, it's no wonder this dish is so popular.

I left mine overnight for the flavours to properly intensify; it was addictive in all its spicy, tender glory. I gorged on it so much I felt a bit sick afterwards. Don't eat two portions in one go.

Beef Rendang

Serves 4

1kg beef shin
5 shallots
1 inch of galangal
5 cloves of garlic
2 inches of ginger
10 dried red chillis (or 5, if you're a wimp)
3 green cardamom pods
2 dried bay leaves
2 star anise
3 cloves
1 tsp ground coriander
1 tsp ground cinnamon
4 stalks of lemon grass
6 kaffir lime leaves
1 coconut
1 tin of coconut milk
1 tbsp palm sugar or dark brown sugar
5 tbsp cooking oil
1 tsp salt

Chop the meat up into chunks. Soak the chillis in hot water. Meanwhile, chop the shallots, the whites of the lemongrass, ginger, galangal and garlic and pound to a paste. Chop the softened chillis finely and add to the paste.

Heat the oil in a large saucepan and fry the shallot paste until fragrant, on a low heat. Throw in the cloves, star anise, cardamom pods (you may want a muslin bag for this - I don't mind pulling spices out of mouthfuls), ground coriander and cinnamon and stir well. Add the meat and the coconut milk, and then a tinful of water. Set to simmer.

While this is simmering, open your coconut by smacking it hard with the blunt end of a knife across its equator between the three eyes and the other side. It will take about 5 minutes of headache-inducing bashing. It should split neatly open. Catch the coconut water in a bowl, drink it, chuck it away, whatever. Extract the flesh, grate it and then toast it on a very low heated dry frying pan. This is a right pain in the arse, so if you can find unsweetened dessicated coconut, toast that instead - about 6 tbsp.

Add the sugar, coconut, bay and the lime leaves, sliced thinly. Simmer for an hour and a half, and then turn the heat up to a vigorous simmer for at least half an hour, stirring it frequently. The liquid should have almost evaporated off. When it has done so and the oil has separated, fry the beef in this oil, stirring so that it doesn't stick. It should be thick and very dark brown.

Serve with this onion and pomegranate salad and some fresh, fluffy roti. Eat with your hands. If, like me, you leave it overnight then when you come to reheat it, add a splash or 5 of water to loosen it up a bit, simmering it until it's all gone.

Mirch Masala - When You're Too Hungry To Queue

Every so often (say, once a week) I'll have an intense craving for Indian or Pakistani food. The spices, the smokiness, the grilled meat leaves me watering at the mouth and I can't think of anything else. I want those stained red fingers, the mouth smeared with ghee. At times like this I head off to Tayyabs to get my fix.

One Friday evening, myself and two friends found ourselves with this spice lust. Knowing we had a better chance of standing around outside drinking cans of lager all night than getting into Tayyabs at prime time, we tried Needoo Grill - set up by an ex manager of Tayyabs, even the menu is the same. Alas, they had a party of 20 in and wouldn't tell us either way whether we could have a table. They tried to convince us to eat and be out in half an hour; speaking from past experience, I knew this would only lead to regret. So we headed round the corner to Mirch Masala.

I've been here once before, on my 22nd birthday. The place is enormous, with a canteen-like atmosphere both upstairs and down. They treated us well though, and even turned all the lights down to sing happy birthday when my cake was brought out.

The best part of the mixed grill were the little chicken drumsticks. They were spiced lightly but were full of flavour. Sadly, lamb chops held no comparison to their neighbour's efforts. Seekh kebabs were juicy and moreish but by and large, we could have done without this dish.

We ordered a couple of main curries, and were talked into more dishes by our waiter. Along with some beautifully puffy plain rotis, the boys decided they also want a keema naan (top picture) "for the lads". It was meaty, filling and dripping with ghee. I left them to it.

Karahi keema corn was a nice change; I was surprised to see the addition of fresh corn, but my Pakistani friend I was dining with told me it's very homestyle to do so.

Karahi chilli chicken had dangerous long green chillis for my spoon to dance around. A mistaken nibble proved to be painful, though the chicken was tender and the sauce well spiced and flavoursome. We had been asked whether we wanted our dishes 'mild, medium or spicy' - given the level of spicing in here, and across the dishes, I was very glad we went for medium. My cheeks flamed.

Being the aubergine fiend that I am, it was no surprise that the karahi baigan was my favourite. Silky aubergines were deceptively spicy and not overly greasy. The roti scooped the aubergine flesh up a dream. I hogged the dish.

We left, £15 out of pocket each and stuffed to the gills. Mirch Masala is a great alternative to the more popular places - it's far quieter, you don't leave smelling of smoke, and it has far more menu options, especially for vegetarians. Just don't let the waiters talk you into extra dishes - we had more than enough, but being the gluttons we are, managed it.

Mirch Masala (other locations too)

111-113 Commercial Road

London E1 1RD

Tel: 0207 377 0155

Note - it's BYO. Hooray!

Goat & Spinach Curry

I like to keep myself busy. After having cooked most of the Christmas food for the family, I invited 10 friends round for dinner just before New Year. I decided that after all the roasted meats, potatoes and vegetables associated with Christmas, a selection of curries would be fitting to waken up those tastebuds a bit. And so, there commenced 2 days of chopping onions, mincing garlic and ginger, pestle and mortaring spices. I swear I have biceps like Madonna now after all that.

One of the favourite dishes of the night was this goat and spinach curry. I adapted it from a Rick Stein recipe and although I was suspicious of the amount of spices used, it worked a treat. I made it the day before (but didn't add the spinach puree until just before serving) for all the flavours to amalgamate overnight.

The finished result looks a bit like sludge, but is rich, gamey, and full of flavour. The meat was tender and fell off the bone. I added some cubed lamb neck fillet to bulk it out, but this isn't necessary if you have particularly meaty goat pieces.

Goat & Spinach Curry

Serves 6 (or 11 as part of a 5 dish spread)

1 kg of bone-in goat shoulder chopped in chunks
500gr lamb neck fillet (optional)
1/2 a head of garlic
50gr ginger
6 medium onions
2 tsp salt
1 tbsp tumeric
1 tbsp ground cumin
1 tsp red chilli powder (optional)
1 tbsp ground coriander
1 tsp garam masala
1 can of chopped tomatoes
4 green chillis
2 large bunches of spinach
200ml water
2 tbsp chopped fresh coriander
3 tbsp oil

Slice the onions and cook in a pan with the oil slowly, until light brown for about 20 minutes. Put the tomatoes, chilli powder if using, onions, garlic and ginger in a blender and blend until smooth. Add the fried onions and blend again. Return the puree into a large saucepan and add the goat and the salt. Simmer for 40 minutes, then add all the spices except the garam masala. Split the green chillis in half, deseed them and throw them in. Simmer slowly for at least 2 hours. If you're using the lamb neck fillet, add it in at this point and simmer for another hour. If the sauce is looking too thick, add a little water. Skim any fat floating on the surface off.

Meanwhile, steam the spinach until just cooked. Blend into a puree with a little water. When the goat is cooked, stir the spinach into the curry with the garam masala, simmer for a minute and serve, sprinkling the fresh coriander on top.

I served this with this red onion and pomegranate salad, rice and cucumber raita.

Kedgeree

One thing I look forward to most at the weekend is breakfast, or rather, brunch options. A nice lie-in and a potter around the kitchen is a luxury most of us can't afford on weekdays, not when you like to sleep as much as I do. Some people might express distaste at eating anything remotely spicy or heavily spiced so early, but I rather like it - it wakes you up a bit.

Kedgeree is something I've been meaning to make for a while; I'd never pass up an excuse to eat rice for breakfast. It is said to have been derived from the Indian dish, Kitchuri, dating back from the days of the Raj. Back then, breakfasts were far grander affairs - no sad little bowls of muesli, nor cardboard-like pieces of toast munched solitarily at your desk. Instead, fish caught that morning was often used since it was so hot in India, it would turn bad by evening. Ingredients like egg were added to cater to British tastes.

The subtle spicing coats each grain, with a delicate, smoky flavour of the fish in the background. Traditionally the dish is made with hard boiled eggs to garnish, but I prefer a soft-boiled. Cutting into the egg, the yolk seeps nicely into the rice, enriching the grains already glossy with butter. A scattering of parsley freshens it up some.


Kedgeree

Serves 2

180gr basmati rice
1 large undyed smoked haddock fillet
1/2 tsp turmeric
1 level tsp ground coriander
1/2 tsp ground cumin
A pinch of chilli powder
1 small onion, diced
50gr butter
300ml milk
1 bay leaf
A handful of chopped flat-leaf parsley
Half a lemon
2 eggs
Salt & pepper


In a saucepan or large frying pan with a lid, place the fish and bay leaf and add the milk, which should cover it. Bring to the boil and then immediately take off the heat, leaving the fish in the milk. In a non-stick frying pan, add half the butter. Once it's foaming, add the onion and fry slowly until translucent and soft. Add the spices, stir well and then add the rice with plenty of black pepper. Lift the fish & bay leaf out of the milk. Reserve half the milk, diluting it with enough water to cook the rice, and add to the pan. At this point I transfer it all the the rice cooker, but if you don't have one, just carry on cooking your rice in the pan as you normally do. Flake the fish and set to one side.

While the rice is cooking, place the eggs in a small saucepan of cold water and bring to the boil. As soon as the water boils, take the eggs out and plunge in cold water. Add the flaked fish and the remaining butter to the rice, stirring carefully. Add the parsley and peel the eggs, which should be soft-boiled, and place on top. Season, and garnish with a quarter wedge of lemon.

Beetroot Leaf & Potato Bhaji

As with many other bloggers, Abel & Cole contacted me asking if I'd would like to be sent a box of theirs in return for a review. Now, before we go any further, a word about freebies and the like. While I'd never ask someone for something for free in return for a review - I am not shameless or big-headed enough - I won't turn down a freebie if I'm genuinely interested in it. A PR company contacted me recently asking if I'd like to sample some ice cream in return for a review, which I turned down (if my housemate reads this she may never speak to me again), simply because I'm not a fan of ice cream and I don't think I could write an interesting post on it. On the flip side, I've been looking into getting a veg box and was put off it by tales from friends about over-dosing on squashes over the winter season, so I thought this was a good way to see if they were right for me.

What I liked about the box was that you can go online and see what's going to be sent to you. Similarly, I liked that you could opt to never receive certain vegetables, like sweet potatoes which are the root of all evil. It was an interesting and varied box - apples, nectarines, melons, Little Gem lettuce, beetroot, green cabbage, new potatoes. Problem is, my housemate works two jobs and usually I'm out at least two nights of the week, so I have no idea how I'll finish it. It was all very fresh, so I hope it keeps a while. Another thing I'd find hard about it is that I'll still have to go shopping; I use a lot of herbs in my cookery, and the box didn't come with any. At roughly £15, I'm not sure that this box is suitable for me. Perhaps better for households of 3 or 4.

So with that in mind and with a bag of coriander languishing in the fridge, I decided on this beetroot leaf and potato bhaji. Bhaji as in a dry curry, rather than those battered deep-fried affairs.

Beetroot Leaf & Potato Bhaji

For 2 as part of a multidish meal

The leaves and stems of 2 beetroot, washed and sliced into 1" pieces

4 large new potatoes

2" ginger, minced

3 cloves garlic, minced

1 medium onion, diced

1 tsp cumin seeds

1 1/2 tsp ground coriander

1/2 tsp turmeric

1/2 tsp chilli powder

1 tsp garam masala

1 tbsp fresh coriander, chopped

Boil or steam the new potatoes for 10 minutes. Slice into halves. Meanwhile, heat some oil or ghee and fry the cumin seeds until they sputter. Add the onion, garlic and ginger and fry until browned but not burnt. Add the rest of the spices except the garam masala, then add the vegetables and stir to coat with the spices. Put the lid on, turn the heat down, and cook for 15 - 20 minutes. There should be enough steam to keep it from sticking, but if it does add a touch of water. Next, add the garam masala, cook with the lid off so that it becomes drier. Take off the heat, garnish with the fresh coriander, and serve.

I ate this with some raita, chapatis and fresh tomato salad with mustard seeds and red onion.

A Tale of Two Curries

I realise that the blog is starting to look like a restaurant review blog. While I have been eating out a lot recently, this isn't the way of the blog; I'm still eating at home.

After I saw Josh blog Mamta's Prawn Patia, it jumped straight to the top of my 'must-make' list. I love the balancing flavours of sweet, spicy and sour that so many cuisines have. The Filipinos have Sinigang Na Hipon, a hot and sour soup; the Thais Tom Yum, and the Chinese Hot and Sour soup. So it was no surprise that this dish turned out to be a cracker - really good depth of flavours with a sauce just coating the meaty prawns.

I like to have a couple of dishes on curry nights, and one I have been trying to recreate is Tinda Masala, which I first tried at Tayyabs. Tinda is an Indian gourd, likened to baby pumpkins but I haven't been able to find any since. Whilst shopping in Peckham last weekend (a stone's throw from my new abode in New Cross) I saw a small green pumpkin which I thought would work out well. Clearly I haven't got much experience with squashes - I find them a bit too sweet - and the shopkeeper gave it a feel, ordered I put it back and got me a fresher one. Now that's service.

Coconut Pumpkin Curry

Serve 4 as part of a multi-dish meal

1 small green pumpkin, chopped into equal sized pieces, skin peeled

1 tsp cumin seeds

1 tsp ground coridander

1 small tin of coconut milk

3 cloves of garlic, minced

1" ginger, minced finely

1 medium onion, diced

2 chopped green chillis, deseeded

Small bunch of chopped coriander

1/2 tsp garam masala

In a frying pan, heat up 3 tbsp cooking oil and add the cumin seeds. Fry until they are fragrant and add the onions, garlic and ginger. Cook slowly until dark brown but not burnt. Add the green chilli, all the spices except the garam masala, and then the pumpkin pieces. Add the tin of coconut milk with some salt, and simmer with the lid on for 15 minutes or until the pumpkin is soft. Simmer for a further 10 mins without the lid to reduce to a thick sauce and 5 mins before finishing, add the garam masala. Take off the heat and garnish with chopped coriander.

This curry worked well as a contrast to the prawns. It was slightly sweet but not too much so, and it was very mild and creamy, taking the heat off the prawns somewhat.

If you prefer a more intense pumpkin flavour, I suggest roasting the pumpkin and adding it to the curry later. As it is, I'm a recent convert to pumpkin and so am going down the softly-softly route...

New Tayyabs

2008 passed by really quite quickly. A lot has happened for me; this blog was born, for a start. Relationships ended, new ones discoveries were made, and new friendships (some through this blog) were made. One such discovery was New Tayyabs. There are loads of food bloggers who have blogged Tayyabs, I am by far from the first, but it's generally accepted that Tayyabs is THE BEST. Really decent Pakistanni food, and cheap to boot. The queues are legendary, and it's BYO.

Recently I was having a discussion with fellow bloggers about lamb chops and who does them the best. We reckoned Tayyabs was it, and so myself, Niamh, Chris, Helen, Charles and Joel from Tipped made arrangements to go and have a blow-out. We really went for it, but there was a revelation from the evening -Tindi Masala, pumpkin curry. The picture (right) doesn't look like much, but it was delicious. Myself and Charles almost passed on it as we both said we weren't huge fans of pumpkin, but I'm really glad I gave it a go. The pumpkin pieces were juicy and bursting with flavour, with just a hint of sweetness. I've been thinking about it ever since. The chef came to our table and had a chat with us and whilst sadly he wouldn't tell me the secret to the lamb chops, he gave me a rough outline of what the pumpkin curry contained. Once I find some baby pumpkins I'm giving it a go.

Another excellent dish was the fish masala which took me by surprise. I'm not quite sure why, but I was expecting a whole fish to be brought but I was quite pleased. I'm all for eating fish as a whole beast but on a table of 8 with forks flying it would have been tricky. Anyway, the chunks were succulent and tender, with just a hint of spicing.


We did pretty well - some naan and roti, the rather unappetisingly named but extremely delicious 'dry meat' and a super spicy dhal set us up nicely and came to a mere £15 each with service. All this was washed down with another discovery made at the latter end of this year, thanks to Charles and Joel - Sierra Nevada IPA. I first tried this at The Rake, a brilliant pub in London Bridge. It was the perfect beverage for all the spice consumed.

Keema Curry

So cutting meat out of my diet after the Christmas binge was never really going to happen. I know I should be more creative with veggie meals, but well, I need my protein (I am fully aware that there are vegetarian proteins). However, I have cut down on the meat consumption. Honest!

One way I've done this is to use half the amount of meat and bulking it out with vegetables. I often eat a lot of vegetables anyway, but when added to a curry as I have done here, it also adds another texture to the dish. This keema and cauliflower curry was a great example of this.

When I was living at home with my parents, we often made curries using Patak's curry pastes. They were convenient and when you need to feed four hungry people who have just come home from work or school, time is of the essence. Especially if you were constantly hungry, as I was as a teenager (and perhaps still am in my early twenties). Recently though I've been making curries from scratch. Ok, I don't grind my own spices nor do I make my own garam masala, but baby steps... Once you have all the basic spices, it becomes really quite easy to whip a curry up. Chickpea curry is my favourite, especially as it uses mainly store cupboard ingredients, but as I had some minced lamb I plumped for the keema option.

Keema & Cauliflower Curry

Serves 3

1 large white onion

3 cloves of garlic

4" ginger

1 tsp cumin seeds

1/2 tsp turmeric

1 1/2 tsp coriander powder

1/2 tsp chilli powder

1 heaped tsp garam masala

250gr minced lamb

200gr frozen peas

Half a small cauliflower

1 tin of chopped tomatoes

Small bunch of coriander

Chop the onions, garlic and ginger finely. Heat up some oil or ghee in a large saucepan and add the cumin seeds. After they have browned slightly, add the onions, garlic and ginger. Fry until browned but not burnt, then add the turmeric, chilli powder and coriander powder. Add a large pinch of salt. When the onions are coated with the spices, add the minced lamb and fry until browned. Add the tin of tomatoes. Simmer for 5 minutes or so, then add the half head of cauliflower, chopped into small florets. Put the lid on and simmer for another 5 minutes. Then add the garam masala and the peas. Cook for a further 5 minutes and take of the heat. Let it all sit for 5 minutes or so, and upon serving scatter with the coriander, chopped finely.

Of course like most curries, this curry definitely tastes better the next day when all the flavours have had time to properly amalgamate.

This dish, although quite full of vegetables, also benefits from a vegetable side, which is where my beloved sprouts made an appearance. Simply steamed and then stir-fried with garlic, chilli, ginger and mustard seed it provided a great contrast in textures and a fresh flavour to it all.

Thai Green Curry

When I first moved to England, one night my mum made a Thai Green Curry for dinner. She used Mae Ploy curry paste, which is sold in many Asian supermarkets. I sat down to the meal, a mere 12 years old, eagerly anticipating my dinner. From the very first bite, I knew I was doomed. Instantaneously my nose started running, my mouth burning, my cheeks flushed. It was fiery, fiery hot. So hot in fact, that I couldn't eat it. My mum looked at me strangely, my sister scoffed at me: "Come on, it's not that spicy!" I carried on, thinking maybe if I ate it quickly it wouldn't be too bad. No such luck; the heat was unbearable. I remember crying hot tears of frustration as I threw my strop, declaring it inedible. That's what happens when I don't get fed.

Nowadays, I'm a bit more accustomed to the heat of curries. I even tend to add chillis to many meals, even if they don't usually have it (chilli sauce with cheese on toast, anyone?)

I recently invested in a huge pestle and mortar, one of those massive granite things that weigh about a ton. I also got "The Food of Thailand - A Journey For Food Lovers" as a gift for my birthday so I thought perhaps a green curry would be the best recipe to while my Sunday afternoon away. So I started chopping. Oh, how I wished I had one of Delia's mini choppers, as I quickly tired of it.

Thai Green Curry Paste

To make 125 mls

1 tsp ground coriander

1 tsp ground cumin

10 green chillis, seeded

2 lemongrass stalks, white part only

5 lime leaves, torn and shredded

5 garlic cloves, minced

4 Asian shallots, diced

6 coriander roots (or a bunch of coriander stalks, as my coriander was rootless)

Handful of holy basil leaves

2 tsp shrimp paste

Finely chop all of the finely choppable ingredients above. Toast the ground cumin and coriander powders until fragrant. Bash it all up in a mortar and pestle (add the ingredients incrementally) until you get a paste. Apparently it'll keep in the fridge for at least two weeks. Alternatively, line an ice cube tray with cling film, add the paste and freeze.

To make the prawn curry, I simply fried 2 tbsp of the paste in oil, added the extremely untraditional broccoli and red pepper slices, and then added coconut milk. Simmer for 7 mins, then I added another 1 tbsp chopped galangal, 3 torn lime leaves, halved baby aubergines, green peppercorns and the prawns. Simmer for 2 mins, take off the heat, add a handful of coriander, 1 tbsp sugar (palm preferably), the juice of 1 lime and a good slug of fish sauce.

I know it's not particularly green, but it was the most fragrant green curry I've had outside of Thailand. It was spicy without being over-powering and the lime leaves really made a difference. It may have also been the taste of sweet satisfaction borne through hard work.