Khojana: Exploring Indian Food

Cooking the Indian Way

The page with the recipe I first made when I was 12 years old.

Cooking the Indian Way was first published in 1962 by Spring Books in London as part of a series of books exploring cuisines from countries such as: France, Middle East, Italy, China, Russia and several others. While a few books in this series are available to read online from the Internet Archive, this one is not. Cooking the Indian Way was put together by author Attia Hosain and Sita Pasricha with the goal of introducing western home cooks to the food of India. Long out of print, copies can occasionally be found on used book web sites.


Helping to Introduce the cuisine

Although the first Indian restaurant in London was established in 1810, the first one in the US did not open until the early 20th century. The Boston area did not catch up until the 1960s; the first restaurant opened in 1968 and the first Indian grocer was established in 1973. So, this book would have been perfect for home cooks who were interested in learning more about Indian food.

For my parents, this book joined a small collection of international cookbooks; while for me it served as a bit of an introduction to Indian dishes as I learned to cook. This is the oldest cookbook in my library, and while it seems dated by today’s standards, it’s worth remembering that most cookbooks at the time were published in this format; compact recipes with very little additional information. Unlike the most of my cookbooks, this one is all text, and typeset in a rather basic style reminiscent of old books from a library.

This was one of the two books that I brought from home when I moved into my first apartment. But even though it was the first one I cooked from, it became neglected in its new home; I rarely referred to it when looking for dishes to try. Compared to The Art of Indian Cuisine, with its more elaborate recipes, I now understand why Cooking the Indian Way played second fiddle in my nascent cooking adventures. It seems to have set a pattern that I would unconsciously follow as I acquired new cookbooks. I would either embrace a new book, and connect with the recipes, or I would only occasionally glance at it when looking for new ideas.

The Recipes

In their introduction, the authors briefly explain food in India, and their simplification (or westernization) of the recipes for the book.

“As far as possible the recipes in this book have been chosen with the problems of housewives abroad in mind. We have these problems ourselves and can appreciate them. Some of the recipes are elaborate, but most have been made as simple as possible.” 1

The next few pages include technical details, measurements, a “Glossary of Indian Words” and a few basic recipes such as: ghee, garam masala, yoghurt, panir, tamarind water and so on. The recipes follow organized by category (bread, rice, meat, poultry, etc). There are even two chapters devoted to deserts: Puddings (Kheer, Halva) and Sweets (Barfi, Jalebi).

The recipes, which do not include information about the dish or origins, are generally brief, and easily fit two to a page. Many use descriptive English names, although some — such as the breads — default to the “Indian” names, particularly in cases where there may not have been a well-known western equivalent (Rogni Roti, Alu Ki Roti). Occasionally recipe names even combine languages: Leek Bhaji or Chicken Pulao for example.

Overall, the ingredients used for the recipes tend to be among the more common: chilli powder, cumin (spelled cummin), coriander, turmeric, yogurt, garlic, ginger, tomatoes and onions. For a beginner at that time, some of the spices were likely new and relatively exotic. A quarter teaspoon of chilli (or cayenne) pepper might have seemed daring for many people. Occasionally some even less common spices, such as black cumin, (likely impossible to find back then) find their way into a recipe. Usually, but not always, the English name for ingredients is used in the recipes (cummin, rather than zeera — although zeera is listed in the glossary).

The occasional non-English name for an ingredient, such as dhannjeera, or bari, is usually explained. The recipe Alu Bari (page 167) calls for a large Bari, “a mixture of Urad dal ground into a paste…and dried.” 2 I am guessing they were referring to Punjabi Wadi. More familiar to those of us reading this book today is Garam Masala, which is listed as an ingredient in many of the recipes. Because the book provides a recipe for it (page 16), they do not explain it in the recipes.

Interestingly, there are a few instances where a recipe (Mince Kebabs on page 82) calls for a western ingredient such as Worcester (Worcestershire) Sauce which I guess was a substitute for a chutney or pickle that might not have been easily available outside India. Other recipes list an unfamiliar ingredient without explanation. Bombay Duck — which is not what it seems — appears in a few recipes (Bombay Duck Curry on page 119 and Bombay Duck Chutney on page 214). I didn’t know what that was till I looked it up online, although reading the recipe would have made clear that it is fish, not a duck.

A few pages on my copy are dog-eared or have stains on them to suggest that a recipe may have been tried by my parents. Alas, because there are no comments on these pages — as was their habit — it’s hard to know which recipes, if any, they actually tried.

I don’t remember this cookbook being used except for one recipe, Prawn Curry on page 115. This recipe, however, does have a few comments in my mother’s handwriting: “Aram’s Tuna Curry” and “Has a large amount of sauce.” In the list of ingredients, a few additional notes were added about the quantities: “no salt if Tuna is salted” and a reduction (!!) in the quantities of chilli and turmeric to ⅛ and ½ teaspoon respectively. I remember making this dish a few times when I was in sixth or seventh grade, but even then I probably was not the one to call for the reduction in spices!

Several years later, while in college, I turned again to this book to try the recipe for Kitchree on page 31. After a few generally unsucessful attempts, I put the recipe aside. The problem, however, likely lay with my inexperience rather than the recipe itself, which is not too difficult.

As I look through this book afresh, I notice some recipes that look interesting. The Fresh Green Chutney on page 209 is not too different from a recipe I have successfully made from a different book. A few pages later, however, I shuddered after reading the recipe for Lemons Picked in Salt (page 215), as it calls for 1.25 lbs of rock salt! Thankfully this chapter contains other unique chutneys and pickles which warrant a closer look.

Reconsidering…

Returning to the book’s introduction, I came across a snippet of conventional wisdom that I tend to forget even after years of cooking:

“Good cooks never really know exactly how much of this or that they have used. There is no substitute for the sense of taste. This is particularly true of salt, pepper and chlli. One can never really tell how much to use; it depends very much on individual taste.” 3

These lines resonate with me since I constantly fret about the amount of salt or how hot a dish is right after cooking it. The salt or chili seem bright and too present, and I suspect that I added too much. Yet, these feelings often subside by the next day after the dish has had some time to rest; the spices get absorbed and the balance is better (though not always perfect).

Over the years I passed over this book, believing that the recipes to be basic, or over-simplified. And that might be true to an extent, but looking closer, I found more than a few recipes that raise an eyebrow and may be worth further investigation. Because I often find myself looking at cookbooks for ideas rather than specific recipes, perhaps this book should be added to the rotation the next time I am idly searching for a new dish.

Footnotes

  1. Attia Hosain and Sita Pasricha, Cooking the Indian Way (Spring Books, 1962), 8 [↖︎]
  2. Ibid, 167 [↖︎]
  3. Ibid, 8 [↖︎]