When I left India for France six years ago, I panicked a little about my Indian eating options in the land of cheese and charcuterie. I promptly ordered a copy of Pushpesh Pant’s India and lugged it along in my suitcase along with a little pressure cooker.
The book, though hefty and intimidating, is beautifully laid out and teeming with recipes from the length and breadth of the country. And it doesn’t dilute authenticity by suggesting substitutes for an international readership. I’ve cooked a number of recipes from the book, and use it as a starting point to delve further into researching a recipe and putting together something I think I might like.
Desi reading
I don’t cook Indian food often but, when I do, it must be special. An overnight nihari in the slow-cooker, a Hyderabadi biryani, birasta (fried brown onion)-based chicken, or a creamy kheer. I have only a handful of Indian cookbooks but the ones I have, I pick with much thought. Here are the ones on my bookshelf:
50 Great Curries of India by Camellia Panjabi has been around for years and came highly recommended by a chef many moons ago. It’s an approachable one that my family has cooked from on several occasions.
Dastarkhwan-e-Awadh. I admit I’ve been a bit of an armchair cook with this one. It was the idea of cooking recipes meant for nawabs that made me dream of replicating a royal feast one summer afternoon. This book is for the cuisine connoisseur: “Of all the arts that flourished then, cooking was considered one of the finest, and its practitioners were among the most sought after.”
It was the turmeric-stained, fabric-bound cover that first drew me to Five Morsels of Love. I then met the author, Archana Pidathala, and learnt about the book’s journey. It was first published in Telugu by her grandmother and sold 15,000 copies — enough to put her mother through medical school. I’ve been following her journey on Instagram, living the book as she cooks meals for her family and friends with help from her lovely little boy. Everything about this book exudes charm, and it is a constant reminder of slowing down to celebrate the little things in life.
A recent trip to Delhi had me itching to expand my Indian cookbook collection. It was the superlative mutton burrah kebabs and butter chicken that made me buy Monish Gujaral’s books with hopes of recreating some of the meals I had relished in the capital.
While on the topic, I wouldn’t want to pass up the opportunity to ask you for your favourite books on regional Indian cooking, dear reader. Although I have a feeling you might say it’s a splatter-stained handwritten notebook of recipes that’s been in your family for generations.
The writer is a London-based chef trained at Le Cordon Bleu Paris and Alain Ducasse Education. @purplefoodie
