Vegetarian Indian Cooking Prashad Indian Vegetarian

Cooking

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 CONTENTS

COVER
TITLE PAGE
DEDICATION
INTRODUCTION
KAUSHY’S KITCHEN
KAUSHY’S SPICE TIN AND SEASONINGS
KAUSHY’S INGREDIENTS AND UTENSILS

PRACTICAL POINTS, TOP TIPS AND HOW TO…

STARTERS
STREET SNACKS AND NASTO
MAIN DISHES
RICE AND BREADS
SOUPS, PICKLES, SIDE DISHES, CHUTNEYS AND DIPS
DRINKS, DESSERTS AND SWEETS
MEAL PLANNERS
KAUSHY’S STORE CUPBOARD AND SUPPLIES
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
LIST OF RECIPES
COPYRIGHT
 FOR MY GRANDMA, PREM MA,
who showed the world her love through her amazing food, her desire to feed everyone and the gentle,
encouraging way she taught her skills to me all those years ago. She has inspired me and my cooking
throughout my life, and it is as a result of the kitchen magic she so lovingly shared with me that I now
receive so much joy sharing that magic with others.
 INTRODUCTION

COOKING has been my world from a very early age. Preparing wonderful food is an expression of real love – a
lesson I learned from my amazing grandmother before I was even five years old.
Until I was four, I lived with my parents and three siblings in Ganesh Sisodra, a village in Surat, northern India, about
ten miles away from my mother’s parents, who lived on a large farm in a village called Pardi. My mother, a sociable
woman with a strong sense of family and community, was a great cook. There were always a lot of visitors to our
home, and her wide social network brought with it important contacts. It was through them that my father was
offered an amazing opportunity to start a business in Zambia.
We were all excited, but my grandma was worried too, as my parents would be leaving India and starting again from
scratch. Trying to settle in a foreign land with a young family would be difficult, so she suggested that they leave me
behind in India with her, since we already had a special bond. This was true, but nevertheless I was devastated
when my mother agreed. I cried for weeks after my family had left and I had moved to Pardi to live with my
grandparents.
As it turned out, the next ten years would be the best of my childhood. I missed the rest of my family, obviously, but
my grandma made me feel immensely loved, and I soon settled into her wonderful world. She was the most
generous and loving person I have ever known, and her enthusiasm for life, food and laughter are still with me today.
She believed in cooking with love, and she passionately loved to cook.
And she was always cooking – whether for the family or for the hundred or so workers on the farm. She would get
up at the crack of dawn to pick vegetables and prepare ingredients for the ‘big cook’ – making enormous pots of
food for the workers before they started their day. I was fascinated by this, quickly got involved and found that I
loved to cook. She was thrilled by my desire to learn and carefully taught me until, at the age of seven, I took over
the responsibility of cooking for the family while she cooked for the workers.
Before school I would get up early to make the family meal, all the while watching my grandma cooking in the big
pots. At the same time she would watch my progress, complimenting me when I succeeded and gently teaching me
when I needed help. She impressed on me that the quality of the ingredients and the freshness of the vegetables
were all part of the magic – the same magic that we still cook up in Prashad’s kitchens – and advised me never to
cut corners and always to cook from the heart. When I was fourteen, my mother arranged for me to become
engaged to her best friend’s son – my soulmate, Mohan. I was to move to England to start my new life, and stay
with my uncle in Loughborough (cooking and keeping house for him) while I settled in.
Leaving my grandmother was incredibly hard, but she told me she believed in me and that this was my opportunity to
shine. So it was that I landed at Manchester airport in October 1966, not speaking a word of English, still tearful but
warmed by her encouragement and blessing. I couldn’t believe how cold and dark England was, and how early the
sun set! I wasn’t convinced that it was the place for me, but I knew that I couldn’t disappoint my grandma, so I set
out to overcome every obstacle and be a success.
Life was very challenging and not knowing the language was a major hurdle, but I started work in a needle factory
as a machine operator and soon discovered plenty of other Indians working there. I picked up English as I went
along and gradually things became easier. In 1968 Mohan came to England and we married and moved up to
Bradford. I was very shy, but in marriage I found stability and security. With my charming, loving husband by my
side, I knew I need never worry or be alone.
The Indian community in Bradford was just developing, and we soon got into a routine of having regular get-
togethers with a handful of other young couples from the same part of India, each of us cooking our favourite meals.
I loved cooking in my home for my growing family, and welcomed special occasions when I could lay on great
feasts. There was scarcely a weekend when we didn’t have guests to feed, and my kitchen was fast becoming my
world.
Mohan is a fantastic mechanic and had steadily built up a reputable garage business, but by the early 1990s he
wanted to try something different. So when he came home one evening in 1992 with a huge grin and told me that the
University of Bradford had issued a compulsory purchase order to buy the garage, I knew that the exciting
opportunity he had been waiting for had arrived. Knowing that cooking was my lifelong passion, he asked whether I
fancied trying the food business. A family friend was selling his launderette, which my mechanical genius husband
could run, and attached was a small Indian vegetarian deli from which I could sell my food … what could be better?
My eldest son, Bobby, was studying for his marketing degree at the time, so we asked him to come up with a name,
and his suggestion of Prashad, meaning blessed food, seemed the perfect choice.
Mohan and I were determined that Prashad would have the same quality ethos that my grandma had instilled in me,
with no corners cut. He got busy sorting out the building structure and launderette, and I got busy cooking. The more
I cooked, the closer I felt to my grandma. Everything I was doing reminded me of her and the recipes she had taught
me – even the pot sizes at Prashad were nearly as big as the ones she used for her ‘big cook’! I was fulfilling my
potential, using the skills she had taught me, cooking her food and making it my own. My food was bringing
happiness to me and to many others, and my world started to sing.
The deli was packed with my specialities – Bombay mixes, dhokra, samosas, spring rolls, kamree, handvo, pethis,
vegetable pakoras and Indian sweets. Everything you would expect in a Gujarati home could now be bought at
Prashad. The business grew, and soon we were being asked to cater for weddings with up to 2,000 guests. Suddenly
it was as if I was back in Pardi, cooking for the entire farm with my grandma! We would get up early to prepare the
wedding food, then Mohan would head out to deliver it and I would stay in the kitchen to cook for the deli. Once the
doors opened for business, I would spend the day talking with customers and selling my food.
As the years went by and the businesses thrived, Bobby noticed that our customers were looking for something
more – somewhere they could come to enjoy a whole meal. We were understandably nervous: Mohan and I knew
very little about running a restaurant. However, with a little gentle persuasion from Bobby and my daughter Hina, we
introduced some tables and chairs into the deli to see how things went. At around the same time there was a local
cooking competition. I was encouraged to enter and decided to give it a go. To my enormous delight, I won!
Restaurant critics came to eat in our deli-café and wrote wonderful things about our food. Prashad’s reputation as a
restaurant started to grow.
Then one afternoon in April 2010, Bobby came bounding into the kitchen shouting, ‘Gordon Ramsay is coming to
Prashad!’ The TV company had called to say that we were close to being selected for the Best Restaurant series.
We were excited and worried at the same time. Would Gordon think we were good enough, or should we be doing
things differently?
Mohan was the voice of reason: he told us to stop panicking and just do what we had been doing for years – after
all, that was why Gordon was coming. So we made a promise that during the show it would be business as normal
… and that’s what got us to the national restaurant competition finals, shown to millions of viewers and judged by a
talented, high-powered TV chef.
Mohan and I are incredibly proud of all our children, and that includes our fourth ‘baby’, Prashad. We are so happy
that we can showcase Gujarati culture in our cuisine and our family ethos – we live together, work together and
were thrilled to share our world through the competition.
The restaurant’s popularity surged and as a result the deli had to close. It was a sad day for me, but since then many
wonderful opportunities have opened up, many of them thanks to Gordon. He has been so generous, helping us in so
many ways, including arranging for my daughter-in-law Minal to train at his restaurant Petrus and encouraging me to
write this book. We can never thank him enough.
Cooking is a gift that is within everyone’s reach. Just remember four simple rules:

1. Fresh and fantastic: This is my mantra. Always buy the freshest, best quality ingredients that you can afford.
You will taste the difference.
2. Prepare: Take the stress out of cooking by preparing your ingredients and getting everything ready in advance.
3. Relax: Take time to enjoy your cooking and don’t put yourself under pressure to be perfect. No one is a great
cook from birth, but by learning from others (and plenty of trial and error) you can create food that is a pleasure to
cook and eat.
4. Cook with love: My grandma taught me that attitude can affect your food and that love is the most important
ingredient, so think beautiful thoughts while you cook!
We Gujaratis use our hands – combining spices, kneading doughs, working in masalas – to put all our energy and
love into our food. We eat with our hands, too, so we can pick up all that cooked-in love. And we always cook a
little more than we need, so that we can invite any unexpected guests to share our meal. If no unexpected guests
arrive, the extra food simply gives us an opportunity to share with our neighbours – we call this vakti vevar and it
helps create great community bonds.
Modern life can be hectic, and one of the first things to suffer is often the sense of community and family. But you
can restore the balance with something as simple as a shared meal or a chat over a cup of sweet ginger tea. Food
can be so much more than just something to fill you up, and cooking can be so much more than just getting food to
the table. The pleasure and sense of achievement in making wonderful meals for yourself, your family or your
friends can bring a glow to the face and a smile to the heart.
Throughout my life, I have been blessed to meet (and feed) the most amazing people, and to introduce them to the
world of spices, flavours, colours and kitchen magic that I grew up with. Now it’s your turn – welcome to my world!
Whether you have years of experience in cooking Indian food or are a complete novice, I hope you will enjoy
exploring and experimenting with making beautiful, fragrant food through my recipes. Most of all, I hope this book
will bring as much joy to you and everyone you cook for (or buy this book for!) as my cooking has brought to me.

Kaushy SEPTEMBER 2012

 Kaushy’s kitchen
Kaushy’s spice tin and seasonings

Asafetida /asafoetida (hing)

Also known as ‘devil’s dung’, due to its pungent, sulphurous scent. The fine yellow powder (which is actually
powdered resin) is generally fried in very small quantities when making spiced oils to be used in dhal and other
dishes to add a savoury flavour. Store in an airtight container – vital to contain the smell. Widely believed to counter
flatulence, making it the perfect partner for pulses!

Indian bay leaves (tej patta)

Paler than European bay leaves, with a yellow-khaki colour and a straighter edge, these leaves of the Indian cassia
tree are used to add a spicy aroma to chole (see here) and rice dishes. Remove from the dish before serving.

Cardamom (elchi or elaichi)

Available as green, white (bleached) or black/brown pods or as a dried ground spice. I prefer to dry-roast and grind
the seeds in a coffee grinder or using a pestle and mortar shortly before cooking for the freshest flavour. Green
cardamom is the most widely used in Indian cooking (I use green cardamom pods and their seeds for all the recipes
in this book), and its black seeds are used as a digestive aid and breath freshener. Brown cardamom is used in
savoury dishes and in garam masala. Store pods away from light and moisture in a jar or airtight tin.

Carom (ajmo, ajwain or ajowan)

Also known as ‘Bishop’s weed’. The small, curved grey-green seeds resemble celery seeds or tiny cumin seeds.
 Usually tempered by cooking with other ingredients, eaten raw the seeds are bitter and hot enough to numb the
mouth. Thought to calm flatulence and other gastric complaints, carom is often cooked with root vegetables and
pulses to aid digestion.

Chilli (marcha or lal/hari mirch)

There are many different types of chillies (ripe red, unripe green, large, small, fiery, mild) and they come in many
different forms (fresh, dried, flaked, pickled, powdered). I use fresh green chillies from Kenya to make my masalas,
long green chillies for stuffed chilli bhajis, small dried red chillies to add to tarka spiced oils, coarse resam/resham
patti (Kashmiri red chilli powder) from northern India for my pickles to give them a sweeter, less fiery warmth, and
medium red chilli powder pretty much everywhere else that a chilli kick is called for.

Cinnamon (taaj or dalchini)

This spice is made from the bark of the cinnamon tree. It is widely used in main dishes, rice dishes, puddings and
sweets, and is believed to help control blood sugar levels. The warm, sweet flavour of cinnamon starts to fade from
the sticks after a month or two, so buy it in relatively small amounts to keep the flavour fresh and bright.
 Cloves (lerving or laung)
This small, dark-brown, woody spice is made from dried unopened clove flowerbuds. Often used whole to flavour
dishes during cooking and removed before serving, it is also available in powdered form. The oil has anaesthetic
qualities, hence its traditional use as a toothache remedy.

Coriander (dhania or dhanna)

Can be used as a green-leaved herb, in seed form or as a dried ground spice (you get a better flavour if you dry-
roast and grind the seeds yourself in a coffee grinder or using a pestle and mortar when needed). When buying
seeds, look for light green oval ones. Fresh coriander leaves are sprinkled on many of my dishes shortly before
resting or serving, while the spice tends to feature in main dishes, rice dishes and pickles.

Cumin (jeeru, jeera or zeera)

Can be bought as whole seeds or ground spice (for the best flavour, I prefer to dry-roast and grind the seeds shortly
before using). The most common cumin seeds are pale green or brown, with a warm, slightly bitter taste; however,
you can also find smaller, sweeter black cumin seeds (kala jeera). Both types are purported to cure digestive
complaints. Ground cumin is often mixed with ground coriander seeds to make dhania-jeera.

Curry leaves (limri, kari or khadi patta)

Used fresh or dried, these ‘sweet neem’ leaves add a pungent aroma and a hint of sweetness to savoury dishes,
including delicious southern Indian kopru (curry leaf and coconut dip, see here). They are generally added to spiced
oil (tarka) rather than cooked directly with other ingredients. Do take care when adding fresh leaves to hot oil, as
the moisture in them makes them sizzle and spit. It is a matter of personal choice whether you eat the cooked leaves
or not.
 Fenugreek (methi)
Available as a green-leaved herb (fresh or dried), seeds or crushed spice (bardho/bardo). For the best results,
roast and crush the seeds yourself when needed. The slightly bitter, aromatic leaves are a central component in
many Indian dishes and go beautifully in relishes, flatbreads and in my methi ni bhaji na bhajia fritters (see here).
The seeds, which are thought to improve digestion, have a strong curry-like flavour and can be added to spiced oils
or directly with other ingredients.
 Garam masala
Literally ‘hot mixture’, this spice blend is used in many dishes and most Indian households will have their own recipe.
My secret mixture contains eighteen spices, which are slow-baked for 3 days before being stone-milled. Garam
masala generally includes roasted ground cinnamon, cardamom, cloves, black cumin, nutmeg and peppercorns, but if
you don’t fancy making your own, it can also be bought ready-made.

Garlic (lasan or lahsun)

In recent years, garlic has been hailed as a wonder-food, with antifungal and antiviral properties and beneficial
effects on everything from blood pressure to acne. It plays a vital role in Indian cuisine, except during periods of
fasting, when our dishes need to be onion and garlic free. I soak garlic cloves in warm water for 5 minutes before I
need them, as I find it makes them easier to peel.

Ginger (adhu or adrak)

Another staple of Indian cooking, ginger is available as a fresh root or dried spice, and lends its heat and warmth to
savoury dishes and sweet treats alike. Ginger infusions have long been used to treat sore throats and nausea, and a
cup or two of sweet adhu vari chai (ginger tea, see here) always cheers me up. Look for firm roots with no
wrinkles or spots, and store any unused ones in the fridge for up to a couple of weeks.

Mustard seeds (rai)

There are three main varieties: black, brown and yellow/white, available as whole or split seeds, paste or powdered
spice. I use the small brown mustard seeds to bring heat and flavour to spiced oils, and the split yellow seeds (rai
bhardo/bardo or rai na kuria) in pickles, as they are a wonderful preservative. When added to hot oil, brown
mustard seeds start to pop as they cook, making it easy to tell that they are working their magic.

Pepper (mari or kali mirch)

 You can buy sharp white, mild green, hot black or fruity pink peppercorns (although the pink ones aren’t actually
from the pepper plant at all), and pepper is also widely available as a dried ground spice. I use freshly ground black
peppercorns in my cooking, as I find that they work best with the other spices – if possible, take the time to grind
them freshly for the best aroma and flavour.

Rock salt or black salt (kala namak or saindhav)

Mined from quarries rather than harvested from the sea, rock salt has a colour (pink or grey), flavour and aroma all
its own. It is somehow less salty than sea salt and is permissible for use in fasting dishes like ferar bataka (see
here). You can buy it in powdered form or in crystals to crush at home

Tamarind (imli or amli)

The name comes from the Arabic ‘tamar hindi’, meaning Indian date, which it slightly resembles in taste. I find that
pressed block tamarind, consisting of ripe tamarind pod pulp (with the shell and most of the seeds removed), provides
a better flavour than concentrated paste. It is used to make tamarind water, which adds a sweet-sour note to dishes
(just soak the pulp in warm water for 5 minutes, then sieve). Tamarind is also an ingredient in Worcestershire and
HP sauce.

Turmeric (hardar or haldi)

Often used in Indian wedding and religious ceremonies for cleansing and to bring success. Available as a dried
powdered yellow spice with a peppery, earthy flavour and mustardy smell, or a fresh root with golden-orange flesh.
Known in medieval Europe as ‘Indian saffron’ and used to dye fabric, it will stain your hands and clothes yellow if
you’re not careful. Unpeeled fresh turmeric keeps for up to 3 weeks in the fridge. Avoid cooking it with green
vegetables, as it turns them grey.
 White turmeric (amba haldi or amb halad)
Also known as zedoary or ‘mango ginger’, this closely resembles root ginger. It is less common than turmeric, has a
less subtle flavour (like bitter ginger) and can be difficult to find outside India and Indonesia. It adds flavour and
colour to dishes but beware the staining effect of the orange juice on hands and clothes too.