If you have ever taken a road trip in India and haven't eaten dal fry at one of the thatched-roof restaurants called dhabas by the roadside on a highway, your journey is incomplete. Travelers stop at these local food joints to stretch and relax, and enjoy the simple pleasures of dal-roti or dal-chawal. Recipe PDF Travelers unwind for a bit and settle on charpoys to enjoy simple freshly made dhaba food. Unleavened flat breads or rotis made on hot a tandoor are drenched in thick luscious yellow lentils (tur and yellow moong) and savored with tangy raw onions and some pickle or a piquant green chili. Some travelers choose to relish it with plain steam rice and crunchy papad. This is no food of royalty nor the usual ghar ki dal (dal made at home). It's somewhere in between both, bringing the richness of a double tadka (tempering) to no-frills boiled pulses. I love creating the dhaba style tadka for my dals at home occasionally. This happens especially on days when nostalgia hits me hard, and I crave for that smoky ghee tempering on the already onion tempered dal! You can easily replace ghee with oil to make it completely vegan. The face of dhabas has changed with time, transforming many of them, from typical dusty trucker joints to convenient clean restaurants. The modern dhabas continue to serve the traditional dal roti, dal chawal, parathas and lassi in addition to many other foods. This change is also a reflection of how food habits have changed with the growth of the Indian middle-class, the most popular customers of dhabas. How can I recreate the dhaba style tadka at home? Dhabas in their simplistic definition are restaurants. And, batch cooking is the norm. Lentils are boiled in a big chunk and tossed over a hot sizzling masala of onions, ginger and garlic. When we order a bowl of dal fry at a dhaba, ladles of this dal are poured into the serving dish and a fresh tempering of dry red chilies and garlic is done on top. This is the key to recreate that magic at home - double tadka! Tur dal is best for making dal fry. However, it's not slimy in texture when boiled. The dal fry at dhabas is thick, and that texture is achieve by adding yellow moong or red masoor to the tur dal. Adding too much salt to pulses hinders their boiling process. Always add a small quantity of salt, and add more later when you temper the dal. You needn't use any complicated spices in dal fry. Keep it simple. Dry red chilies, asafoetida and garlic with ghee or oil are sufficient to create the buttery spicy aroma of the dhaba style dal fry. Recipe Ingredients For boiling the dal: 5 parts tur dal (Pigeon Pea), 1 part yellow moong dal (Yellow Split Gram), 1 tsp sliced ginger, 1/2 tsp turmeric, 1/2 tsp red chili powder, 1/2 teaspoon salt For the first tadka (tempering): 1 tbsp neutral oil, 1/2 tsp cumin seeds,1 medium onion chopped, 1 tsp minced ginger, 1 tsp minced garlic, 1 tsp turmeric, 1 tsp red chili powder, salt to taste For the second tadka (tempering): 1 tsp ghee (or oil for vegan option), 3-4 garlic cloves sliced, 2-3 whole Kashmiri (or any other) red chili, 1/4 tsp asafoetida, a pinch of red chili powder, 1/2 tsp kasoori methi (optional) Coriander leaves for garnishing Method Boil the dal: In a pressure cooker or instant pot, add the ingredients listed under boiling. Cook the dal until soft and tender. Do the first tempering: Place a pan or wok on medium heat, and add 1 tbsp oil. Once the oil is heated, add the cumin seeds and let them crackle. Add the minced ginger and garlic and sauté for a bit. Next add the onions, sauté for about a minute, and then add turmeric and red chili powder. Continue sautéing the onions until light brown, and then add the boiled dal. Add salt to taste, mix everything and let it simmer uncovered for about 2 minutes. Pour the dal into the serving dish. Do the second tempering: Place a tadka pan (or use any smaller pan if you don't have a tadka pan) on medium to high heat, and add 1 tsp of ghee or oil for vegan option. Add the garlic cloves, and after a few seconds, add the red whole Kashmiri chilies. Add asafoetida and then add kasoori methi. Let everything crackle and be sizzling hot. Pour the tempering over the dal. Garnish with coriander leaves. Cut a few cucumbers, tomatoes and onions for the side salad! Enjoy the hot dal fry with rice or roti. If you make this recipe and like it, please drop in your comments. You can also tag me on Instagram. I'd love to hear from you! Related Posts Chadhanchi: Black Chickpeas cooked in Kumaoni Style Chole: Chickpeas cooked in Punjabi style

#rozkakhana series Jump to Recipe My earliest memories of food are associated with a bowl of hot yellow dal. It tended to be tur or split moong on most occasions, split masoor at times. My favourite was always tur though. Cooped up with a book by a window in the house, I could always hear the pressure cooker hiss on the gas stove, the quintessential melody of Indian kitchens. It wouldn't be long before mother took the sibilating pot off the heat, and the smell of ghee melting in a kadhai would pull me out of my reveries amidst one of the many fictions I read. I would dawdle behind mother as she readied the chaunk (tempering), the crackle of cumin or the dance of mustard seeds filling my heart with glee, and I would eagerly wait for a sip. Ah! There are fewer things in life more precious than these simple joys. When we return home from long trips, I usually make this dal—understated and subtle. Even Indian restaurants cannot attain this longing. It has to be homemade, and for me, a bowl of home cooked dal is comfort food on any place on earth. If you have a pressure cooker, it takes a whistle or two to boil. An instant pot does the job in less than five minutes. Then comes the tempering, which is extremely undemanding, and yet immediately transforms the dal from frugal to divine. As my husband says, "Nothing like yellow dal. Simple food is so underrated." There's something magical about seasoning a dal. Every home kitchen in India has a small rounded deep pan, called tadka pan. The experienced women and men of Indian kitchen don't tend to these specialized pans though. They will heat the oil or ghee in a kadchhi, a type of ladle, so artfully that it wouldn't burn the metal, add the seasoning and toss it on the dal. This tadka is not just for flavour. The healthy fat in the tadka is essential for absorption of fat soluble vitamins while Ayurveda has explained the anti-inflammatory and medicinal properties of many spices like cumin, mustard, turmeric, fenugreek, chilies, curry leaves, coriander, garlic used in the tempering. A tadka thus ensures our overall wellbeing while adding a riot of flavours to the dishes! During tadka or tempering, the fat content is satiated by the oil. And when heated with the spices, a breakdown occurs and the released vitamins are absorbed by the oil or ghee. This, when consumed, makes it easier for the body to process these vitamins, or in other words, it is more bioavailable. - From an article in The Better India All split dals in the Indian food repertoire are easy to cook. The key lies in the tempering which is done afterwards, often just before serving. Since these dals cook faster and are lighter on the stomach, they're a common sight in the daily Indian meal plates. Paired with rice or flatbreads, these powerhouses of protein are made almost everyday in Indian households. This recipe is my simplest version of tur dal, split pigeon peas. You can make red lentils, split masoor dal, in the same fashion as well. If I am longing the typical tempering my mother makes, I season it with mustard and garlic. Otherwise, I temper it with cumin, asafoetida and red chilies. My preferred medium for tempering dal is always ghee. Choose a healthy trans fat free ghee and use it judiciously in your dals. A little bit goes a long way in tempering and makes big shifts in the overall taste. A good ghee is way better and healthier than refined oil—remember that! If you're vegan, use a good cold pressed oil of your choice. Pro Tip: Tur dal upon boiling can sometimes lend a runny texture. If you're fond of dals with a thin consistency, then you wouldn't complain. In fact, I love thinner dals with rice. To get a slightly thick consistency in the tur dal, add about a teaspoon of yellow moong dal to it. The slimy characteristic of moong will help bind the tur dal well and the result will be a thick texture. Careful with the ratio though. Only a spoon of moong is enough. Dal by itself has no special flavours. All the magic is in the seasoning. You'll be surprised how a simple tadka/chaunk can make so much difference. Recipe Did you check the pro tip? Ingredients For boiling the dal: 1/2 cup pigeon peas (plus 1 tsp yellow split moong dal - optional) washed and soaked for at least 20 minutes, 1 cup water, 1/4 tsp turmeric, 1/4 tsp salt, 1 small tomato finely chopped For the cumin tadka: 1 tsp ghee (or oil), 1 tsp cumin seeds, 1/4 tsp asafoetida, 1/2-inch ginger chopped, 1 green chili finely chopped, 1 tsp red chili powder OR For the mustard tadka: 1 tsp ghee (or oil), 1 tsp mustard seeds, 3-4 garlic cloves roughly crushed, 2 green chilies slit Note: Refrain from olive oil for tadka as it has a low smoking point. To create a proper healthy tadka, you must use an oil with high smoking point that will let the let the spices sizzle accordingly. Fresh coriander leaves (cilantro) to garnish Method In a pressure cooker, add the dal and water along with turmeric and salt, and cook on high flame for 1 whistle and medium to low flame for another whistle. Turn off the heat, and keep the pressure cooker aside. Let the pressure release on its own. Open and check the consistency and doneness of the dal. Add salt as needed now. At this stage, you may add hot boiling water to make it thinner in consistency. For the cumin tadka: In a fry pan, add ghee and heat it. Once hot, add cumin seeds, green chili and ginger and let them simmer for a few seconds. Then, add asafoetida and red chili. For the mustard tadka: In a fry pan, add ghee and heat it. Once hot, add mustard seeds, garlic and green chilies. Move the tadka pan in circular motion taking it off the heat, so that the chili does not burn and all ingredients get combined. Immediately pour this hot tadka on the dal and close the pressure cooker with its lid without locking it. This will help the aroma of the tadka penetrate inside the dal. Keep the dal on low heat to simmer if you wish to adjust the consistency. If you do so, remove the lid and continue. Garnish with cilantro and serve with lime wedges.

#rozkakhana series Jump to recipe I have a puzzling relationship with winter. It's the time of the year when my nose and sinuses seem to be revolting weather, and yet the sudden nip in the air that turns us homeward is one of my favourite feelings in this world. With winter comes the finest fresh produce, bringing good food and warmth of cooking and sharing a meal with loved ones. Amidst all the harvest that thrives in winter, carrots, peas, cauliflower and seasonal greens hold a special place in my heart. Growing up in Odisha, I relished mother's gajar (carrot) ka halwa during the winter months, and I still love the version she makes. It's a dessert made almost everywhere in India, with carrots and milk slowly cooked over an hour and garnished with cashews, raisins and pistachios with a good drizzle of ghee to extend its self life. However, I witnessed carrots being celebrated as a vegetable in its own right only when we lived outside Odisha. Back in our hometown in the state, mother would readily add carrots to dals or a mixed vegetable dish, but not as a singular preparation of its own usually. During the four years of living in Bihar and Jharkhand, my family had many acquaintances from Uttar Pradesh, Delhi and Punjab, and all these north Indian families made a scrumptious sweet and savoury ensemble of carrots and peas in winter. Freshly harvested red carrots and green peas sautéed in hardly any spices and smelling divine! Mother, who has always been inculcating food of every place we lived in our meals also started making this dish. We would gather on the terrace of our home and peel bags of peas, basking in the sun, bantering and sharing some quips. Father would regularly move a trail of pickle bottles and jars on the side to let them have ample sunlight and neatly set all our sweaters on the cloth line. A big batch of peas was cooked with carrots, and the rest was stuffed into flatbreads or added to fresh winter potatoes and made into stews—not quite common in Odia households but we enjoyed it. My eldest sister would grate a carrot or two and give up while mother and the middle sister piled up heaps of shredded carrots for the halwa. When I was 18 and left home to go to Bombay for higher studies, I lived as a paying guest with an old Punjabi couple. Although winters in Bombay are rather mild, Aunty A would still make the typical carrots and peas dish of the season and narrate many tales of her childhood in Karachi, the pre-partition days of India and her life in Bombay after the partition of India in 1947. It was a sight to watch her cook and talk at the same time. I would help peel all the carrots and peas, and she would douse them with water in a deep vessel to clean any remnant dirt. "Shehron mein khet nahi hain na betaji, mitti bhi zyada hai. Pind mein baat alag hi hoti hai", she would account. "There are no farms in the city dear one, dirt is more. It's a different story in the villages." This amalgamation of carrots and peas is more than a mere dish. It's an exemplar of how families eat seasonal produce and enjoy it with loved ones in the comfort of their home and hearth. A family gets together and sorts the batches of fresh produce brought from the market or harvested from the farms, and everyone plays a role to use the cleaned and assorted veggies. Simple meals made of seasonal ingredients are served and savored with love, and it goes without saying that such food is abundantly nutritious and wholesome. The small town girl in me adores this preparation of carrots and peas, and no matter where I live, I make sure to cook it when summers bid adieu. In Canada, come December or late November, when snow starts paying us visit and the driveway looks like a miniature white hill and the markets start filling with gorgeous vegetables, I stir this beauty up and patiently wait for the sun to show up on the coldest days! The joy of eating this homestyle carrots and peas and watching the flakes of snow drift outside is unparalleled, and reminiscent of those winters of my childhood. Make this easy sauté of winter carrots and peas with everyday spices and see how something so basic can taste so delicious! I like it best with some paratha, but it goes really well with some dal and rice too. You can even layer it between two toasted slices of bread and eat—one of the other ways I love eating it! Pro Tip: Although frozen peas are available throughout the year, this dish tastes best with fresh peas. Peas cook slightly faster than carrots, so cut the carrots almost the size of peas. Choose slender carrots so you can cut small roundels which will be similar to the size of peas. If you get thicker carrots, dice them to smaller pieces. Both peas and carrots have an inherently sweet taste, and the idea is to preserve that flavour in the dish. So, avoid overpowering the dish with a load of spices. I use a tiny piece of an onion in this recipe, and I strongly recommend not going beyond that. Too much of onion will dominate the flavour and interfere with the dish's original essence. I like adding some whole spices like cardamom, peppercorns and cloves as they help enhance the fragrance and balance the sweet tone of carrots and peas, although you may skip them totally. Recipe Did you check the pro tip? Ingredients 4-5 small to medium sized carrots 1 cup green peas 2 tbsp oil 1 black cardamom 2-3 peppercorns 2-3 cloves 1 tsp cumin 1/2-inch ginger, finely chopped and pounded 1-2 green chilies, chopped 1/4 of an onion finely chopped 1/4 tsp turmeric powder 1/2 tsp red chili powder 1/4 tsp asafoetida 1 small tomato finely chopped 1 tsp salt, or to taste 1 tsp coriander powder 1 wedge of lime few fresh coriander leaves, finely chopped 1 tsp ghee (optional) Method In a wok or kadhai, heat oil at medium heat. When the oil is hot, add the cardamom, cloves and peppercorns and let them become fragrant. Then, add cumin, ginger and chilies. Sauté everything for a couple of seconds, and then add the onions. Toss the onions until they turn pink, and then add turmeric, red chili, asafoetida and coriander. Sauté until the dry spices are cooked well. This should take about 5 to 6 minutes. Add the tomatoes and continue mixing. Once the oil starts separating from the mixture, add the carrots and keep tossing everything for the next 5 minutes. You may add splashes of water and turn the heat down a bit if anything sticks to the wok or kadhai. Now add the peas and salt, and give a good mix. Add about 1/4 cup water, cover the lid and cook on low heat until the vegetables are cooked through. It should take about 12 to 15 minutes. Open in between and keep checking the veggies. Open the lid, and add ghee if using. Turn off the heat. Squeeze the lime wedge and garnish with coriander leaves.

Jump to recipes "Dinner is ready", I call my husband. The hot griddle is roasting rotis (flatbreads) as I roll the dough. "Are you coming?", I almost yell this time anticipating his nose buried in a book or the kindle and his sense of hearing being at a loss during this time. He arrives and looks at the counter, gleeful at the sight of the typical sookhe aloo (sautéed potatoes). "I'm setting the table then", and he gobbles a potato, nibbles the okra masala. I shake my head, sending him off to the table with the dish of yellow dal. "Why don't you write about this food?", he probes, placing the plates on the mats. I hand him the roti basket. "The usual food?" I shrug. "You know, simple everyday meals", he tilts his head slightly, his way of persisting although not vehement. He meant the Indian meals I make at home (I make a lot of other cuisines at home too): assortments of veggies, dals, condiments and some carb. The ensemble varies on different days, motley like my food identity and a stark contrast from my husband's home food experience—homogenous and cognate. On some days, I bring the rusticity and spice of Rajasthan or the brawny savoury flavours of Gujarat to our plates and on others I make the Punjabi home food I first learned to cook, understated and unpretentious. Sometimes the food of my childhood appears on our table, meals from eastern and southern Odisha while at other times, the secret Bong in me manifests itself in our dinners and lunches. There are days when I crave the seasonings of Karnataka and the sapid food of Andhra and dream of coconut sweetness of Kerala or one of the many facets of Tamil cuisine. When my palette travels all the way to Kashmir, I cook carefully spiced subtle dishes while I rustle up one of the many tangy lentils and beans of Himachal at other times. Some meals have the look of rugged realness of the food from parts of U.P., Bihar, Uttarakhand or Madhya Pradesh while some have the anglicized dishes developed under the British colonization, reminiscent of trailing imperial kitchens of olden India. I'm often nostalgic of the robust flavours of Maharashtra and Goa, and they are frequent on my Indian meal menus as well. I take a bite of the rice, always my bowl of comfort on the table, and my husband ladles the dal on my plate. "My roz ka khana is from everywhere in India though", I fiddle with the spoon dipped in curd. "And, that's the best part", he retorted, more confident than me that I should document our wonted Indian meals on my blog. "They aren't typical recipes, you know. I eyeball everything, well usually, and most of the Indian home cooking is like that. Estimations are everything, mastered over time"— I had to clarify and see if he was still assertive. "Well, you'll have to teach me somehow." He chuckled and that was motivation enough. With this section on my blog, I want to take you on a sojourn of ordinary meals that are cooked in the privacy of Indian homes—dishes that perhaps never appear in any restaurant's menu. You'd find them being made in local eateries often considered trivial, even nonexistent, or see them as part of food offered to the many gods in Indian temples or eaten during the hundreds of year round festivities. They also show up on the tables during family gatherings, packed in lunchboxes or exchanged during special occasions. These dishes are easy to make, and I mean it. In Indian homes, it's common to cook thrice a day and use every bit of the fresh produce. Hot breakfasts are not just common but almost omnipresent throughout the country. Lunch and dinner plates have a fine balance of macro and micro nutrients, and usually favour the seasonal vegetables. While many families cook non-vegetarian food during some days in the week, vegetarian dishes mostly accompany the meat nevertheless. When there's so much variety in every meal, families with their domestic helps and cooks ingeniously use the ingredients, applying techniques in the kitchen to dish out meals fast and render them wholesome and flavour packed. Since I grew up and lived in multiple places in India, my taste buds are heavily influenced by the regional cooking in India. The same vegetable, dal or meat is given a different treatment in each home in India. For instance, my mother makes eggplant in at least ten different ways, and I have seen a potato or cauliflower made in myriad ways across the length and breadth of the country. Grains are made into flatbreads (often stuffed with veggies or lentils), pulao and khichdi, and everything is made in ways that are quick to bring to the table and feed the entire family. The same lentils, legumes, yogurt are tempered and seasoned in diverse ways and condiments like chutneys and pickles are readied fresh or made ahead to provide texture and crunch to the meal. It's undeniable that some prep goes into making some of these meals, but not to an extent that cannot be done by someone who has never prepared Indian food. Through Roz ka Khana, I want to present you these secrets of the multifarious Indian home kitchens, Indian food that I cooked when I lived by myself and what I cook now for the family of two that we are currently, food that I cook for my friends and extended family when they visit, recipes that I have learned watching people cook in their homes and assimilated in my kitchen, coupled with my personal twists and experiments. There are few cookbooks that I admire as much as I love, Vegetarian India, A Journey through the Best of Indian Home Cooking by Madhur Jaffery. She says, "Over the years, I have developed my own system for collecting good recipes. I have learned that in India, these are always found in private homes, and that I cannot rely on generous offers of "written recipes", and I couldn't agree more with her. Indian food is most glorious in Indian homes, in its most organic and unadorned state. Most recipes, or rather the styles of cooking dishes, are passed on through the elders in the family—the many grandparents, aunts and uncles. Sometimes, recipes are shared between neighbours, not written but annotated in mundane conversations. Home cooking is never documented, it's a way of life, and that's perhaps true in other parts of the world also. Ingredients are never strictly measured unless it's explicitly the way in the family to do so, and even then, things can quickly change when you move from one home kitchen to another. Every home tells a different story of its food, and for me that's the beauty of it. The government has observed that next to rice and water, stories are the most-demanded stuff in daily life...Every moment someone or the other is asking for a story. - R.K. Narayan, A Writer's Nightmare Globalization and immigration of Indian families has brought another compelling dimension in Indian home cooking. As Krishnendu Ray's The Migrant's Table: Meals and Memories in Bengali-American households elucidates, "Children prefer fewer spices and less fish and rice, the distinguishing elements of Bengali cuisine for the first generation." What Indian migrant families cook in their foreign homes may not always be a replica of what they cook in their home back in India, and often customized to suit the preferences of the third generations or modified to adapt to the available produce. Bottle gourd may be replaced by chayote, yardlong beans may be switched with green beans, dried curry leaves may take centerstage over the fresh ones, mustard greens may be swapped with collards, an interchange of spices may not be uncommon. Salmon may float in the typical Bengali sorshe or Bhopali machli ka saalan instead of some indigenous Indian fish and chickpeas may be opted when there's a dearth of Bengal gram. Vegetables like zucchini and broccoli which are rather new in modern Indian homes and still not popular in many traditional families' cooking in India are often cooked with Indian spices in migrant kitchens. A reverse anglicization of some sort perhaps. Irrespective of the change, there will always be an essence of the home where the dish originated, engulfing the nonnative ingredient in a far flung setting from India, evoking the aroma of something Indian. As simple as a cilantro, green chilies or lime or more complex like a spice blend, there's something conspicuously Indian in the homemade Indian meals of the migrants as well. Harbouring a bifurcated sense of home and belonging, these families often serve a slice of their memories on the plate. Many of the Indian dishes in this section are a ramification of my life in Canada, and I have provided a context for the reader to understand the dish and its variations. Whether westernized or traditional, recipes in Roz ka Khana are answers to the question I often get asked, "What do Indians cook at home?" Andaaza, an Urdu word, which means approximation, rules a majority of Indian home kitchens. My Indian kitchen is no different in that realm. I often discern how much of an ingredient the dish calls for, some of it is experience and some is pure instinct. And, for this reason the dish even though made through a singular recipe can taste different when two people make it individually. My andaaza is my relationship with the food I create—it's a representation of a part of me and how I work in the kitchen. For different people, estimations can vary and I understand that for some, this method of cooking may not work best, just like my husband. I have tried to be as precise as I can in all the recipes posted so far, and I'll try to continue this method for future recipes for Roz ka Khana. Having said that, I also encourage you to trust your velleity and come closer to the food you cook in terms of its textures, layers and flavours. I encourage you to understand the technique used in a recipe — how a vegetable is chopped or how long it's cooked, whether a lentil is soaked ahead or ready to cook once washed — develop your own relationship with food you cook, whether Indian or not. Roz ka Khana is a continuing journey, fueled by my incessant curiosity of what goes on within the billions of home kitchens in India. The recipes will continue to pile as I cook the usual and also learn new things, and I hope they motivate you to cook that version of Indian food which is often uncelebrated. Meant to be a journal for my husband, I wish it's your journal too, where you feel inspired and encouraged to create easy homemade Indian meals. Whether you have been wanting to cook Indian or looking for interesting ways to cook your regular Indian food or searching for quicker means to some recipes, I wish Roz ka Khana gives that to you, and more. Recipes All Recipes >> Chawal: Different types of rice preparations Dal and Kadhi: Lentils and legumes cooked into soups and gravies, Slow cooked gravies and soups made of gram flour or yogurt Sabzi: Vegetables cooked as stir fires and gravies Saag: Greens cooked as simple stir fries and complex gravies Roti and Paratha: Grains and millets based flatbreads Dosa and Cheela: Pancakes and crepes Poha and Upma: Flattened rice, vermicelli and semolina based preparations Idli and Dhokla: Steamed preparations of rice and lentils Khichdi: Mash-ups of grains, lentils, millets or tapioca Chutney, Raita and Achaar: Spicy, sweet, sour or savoury condiments Meetha: Desserts Fish and Poultry: Gravies and fried preparations

When I host guests at home and want easy starters or I want to laze around while the food gets cooked, paneer tikkas surely are amidst the top choices on my list. A base marination of yogurt, besan (chickpea flour) and simple spices can be customized to make different kinds of tikkas. And, you just need a big bowl, a baking tray or grill pan and skewers to do this! You can easily make this vegan by using tofu instead of paneer. Recipe PDF If you don't know what a tikka is, they are small marinated chunks of vegetables or meat. Although traditionally tikkas are made in a tandoor (clay oven), you can make them at home on a grill pan or oven. I promise they taste equally brilliant and are mouthwatering. They can be had as a meal on their own or served along with salads or even eaten as starters prior to a bigger meal. Personally, I like to have them as one big meal with some side salad. They are quite filling, and I am usually done with two rounds of tikkas! And so, they are perfect for those cheat days too if you are on a diet. The history of tandoor is as old as the Indus Valley Civilization. Although, it hadn't arrived in India until after the partition in 1947. Tandoor has an important role in the story of sanjha-chulha (common oven) or community kitchen popularized by the Sikhs in India. How can I create a tandoor effect to foods cooked at home? Tandoor is a clay oven where different constituents of the oven cater to different effects on the food being cooked in it. The pit produces a baking effect, heat from the charcoal produces grilling, and hot clay walls are same as a griddle. To make tikkas at home, we need one of these aspects of the tandoor: Baking Grilling And, it's easily achievable on a grill pan and/or an oven. What is the important part in making paneer tikka? The most important, which also the sole of the panner tikka is the marination. The nicer the marination, the better will be the taste. Yogurt is the key in your marination as it allows the spices to permeate into the raw paneer/vegetable/meat. Using a sharp tasting oil, such as mustard oil imparts a high note to the paneer tikka. If you don't have access to mustard oil, try using extra virgin oil. You can also add half teaspoon yellow mustard powder to a neutral oil to generate a similar effect as mustard oil. Once marinated, let the paneer rest for at least 20 minutes if not more. Recipe Ingredients For tikka: 250-300 grams paneer cut into cubes 2-3 medium bell peppers cut into cubes 1 medium red onion cut into quarters 1 medium firm tomato (red or green) cut into quarters For marination: 1/2 cup yogurt (use vegan yogurt to make this dish vegan) 1 tbsp ginger garlic paste 1 tsp kasoori methi 1 tsp roughly crushed ajwain (carom seeds) 1 tbsp mustard oil or extra virgin olive oil 1 tbsp roasted besan (chickpea flour) 1 tbsp degi mirch (red chili powder) or paprika A pinch of turmeric Salt to taste 1 tsp lime juice if the yogurt is not sour Method Marinate the veggies and paneer In a bowl, add the yogurt, ginger garlic paste, 1/2 tsp kasoori methi and 1/2 tbsp oil, and mix well. Next add crushed carom seeds, salt, roasted chickpea flour, turmeric and red chili powder, and mix again. You can add a few drops of lime juice if the yogurt is not sour. Add the paneer and veggies into this marination mixture and coat them well. Skewer the vegetables and paneer and let it rest for at least 20 minutes. Grill or bake the paneer: If using a grill pan: Heat 1/2 tbsp oil on the pan and place the skewers on it. Roast the paneer and veggies by turning them over once in a while to get a char on most sides. Remove from the pan and place on the serving platter. If using an oven: Preheat the oven to 430 degrees F. Place an aluminium foil on a baking dish or tray or keep a cooling rack on an oven safe pan, and set aside. Brush the paneer and veggies with 1/2 tbsp oil. Place the skewers on the baking tray and bake for 15 minutes, turning once after every 5 minutes to cook all sides of the cubes. After 15 minutes, switch on the broiler and broil the veggies and the paneer for 2-3 minutes to get a char on their surfaces. Remove carefully and place on your serving platter. Squeeze some lime on top and garnish with remaining kasoori methi. It's best enjoyed with delectable chutneys and side salads!

There are some foods that make you feel at home instantly, no matter where you are. Other than dal-chawal (lentils and rice), a humble aloo gobi (potatoes and cauliflower) is what warms my heart on any day. The beauty of this dish is its simplicity. Subtle spices and softly tossed potatoes and cauliflower florets are all you need to set up the dish. I enjoy it with hot parathas and a good helping of some fresh green chutney (coriander and mint condiment). Recipe PDF Every Indian household cooks aloo gobi in one way or another, though it is surprisingly thought to be a staple of north India. I grew up in Orissa, a state in eastern India where aloo gobi traditionally is cooked in a thin stew. But, that recipe is for another day. This version is a mushy dried gravy that goes very well with flat breads. Tips on making this dish homelike, further in the post. Like a lot of other vegetables, the adoption cauliflower was also through colonization. It originated in Cyprus and moved far and wide in Europe, and made its way to India in 1822. What are some tips for making a homelike aloo gobi? Here are some easy takeaways from my learning of making this dish over fourteen years now: Always toss the potatoes and cauliflower in some oil before adding them to the onion-tomatoes masala. It's important to maintain the texture of the vegetables for this dish. The soggier you make your vegetables, the less better they taste. Ginger, coriander powder, turmeric and some red chili powder are sufficient to give this dish its flavour. High-note spices like garam masala tend to overpower the humble flavours and tend to make the dish richer and heavier for the stomach. The coarser the masala, the more homely the gravy feels! You needn't do fine chopping and grinding for the spices. Roughly chop the onions and tomatoes (they form the base of the gravy), use a pestle and mortar to crush the ginger and use it to pound some dry roasted coriander and cumin seeds too. Never skip adding coriander leaves to aloo gobi in the end. It's not just for garnishing. Fresh coriander imparts a beautiful color to the dominantly yellow looking gravy, and also adds a hint of refreshing lemony aroma. Recipe Ingredients 1 and 1/2 tbsp neutral oil 1 cup diced potatoes 1 cup cauliflower florets For the gravy base: 1 medium sized onion chopped, 1 medium sized tomato chopped, 1 tsp coarsely ground ginger, 1 finely chopped green chili (optional) Dry spices: 1 tsp cumin seeds, 1 tsp turmeric, 1 tsp coriander powder, 1/2 teaspoon coarsely ground coriander and cumin seeds, 1 tsp red chili powder Few roughly chopped coriander leaves Salt to taste Method Toss the vegetables: In a wok or pan, add 1 tbsp oil and toss the potatoes and cauliflower florets until lightly golden on a medium flame. Keep them aside in a plate. Make the gravy: In the same pan or wok, add 1/2 tbsp oil and add the cumin seeds. When the seeds crackle, add the chopped onions. Sauté the onions until pink, and then add the chopped ginger and green chilies. Toss everything until the onions start changing color. Quickly add the dry spices except the coarsely ground coriander and cumin seeds. Mix for about 3-4 minutes or until the raw smell of turmeric disappears. Add splashes of water if the spices stick to the bottom of the pan/wok. Add the tomatoes and mix everything together. Add the coarsely ground coriander and cumin seeds at this stage when the tomatoes are squishy and juicy. Mix again and then add some water and some salt. Cover the pan/wok and let the tomatoes cook for about 4-5 minutes. Open and now add the tossed potatoes and cauliflower florets. Add more water and salt to adjust the seasoning and consistency, and then cover the pan/wok again. Cook until the vegetables are tender (not soggy). Open and add the fresh coriander leaves. Enjoy it with your favourite flat bread and some chutney or pickle!

It wasn't until I landed in Bombay that I got introduced to Sindhi food and learned about the Sindhi diaspora who have faithfully cooked the food of their homelands over generations. It's amusing how I still call Bombay as Bombay, and not with its modish name, Mumbai. Bombay was named Mumbai in 1995, much before I arrived in the city to make it my home. I had grown up in other cities of India knowing it as Bombay, and it remained the same for me irrespective of what the world chose to call it. Sindhis and their attachment to their home-cooked food is much like my connection to Bombay — no matter where the Sindhis live, they tend to cook the food they're habituated to. Displaced from the Sindh province in Pakistan, this ethno-linguistic group lives on both sides of the Indo-Pakistan border in the present times. While the Hindu and Sikhs from Sindh migrated to India, the Muslims stayed behind in Pakistan after partition of India in 1947. In both sides of the border, Sindhis have further moved and settled in new lands and continued to create food that is reminiscent of what they left behind. The third or fourth generation of the migrant Sindhis would have probably never visited the land their ancestors came from yet you will be amazed by how rooted they are to their traditional cuisine. I befriended some Sindhi friends in Bombay, and their homes inaugurated a completely new flavour base for my taste buds. Few years later in Bangalore, I got acquainted with a friend who is more family and enriched my understanding of Sindhi food more. It was he who reminded me of bugha chawal recently when I told him I was making sai bhaji, another everyday dish made in Sindhi homes. Recipe PDF Unlike other diaspora cuisines like Punjabi (Punjab province spread on both sides of the Indo-Pakistan border before partition) or Parsi (ethno-religious group who migrated from Persia to India), Sindhi food isn't mainstream in restaurant food. The Sindhi food recipes you would find on the internet today owe significantly to the younger generation Sindhis who have passed the secrets of their own kitchens or shared from the kitchens of their mothers, sisters or aunts. This recipe is one such example. It was my landlady, Auntie A hailing from a migrated Punjabi family of Karachi and quite accustomed in Sindhi cuisine, who taught me how to cook bugha chanwara or bugha chawal. Tell me more about this recipe Drawing upon the caramelization of onions and the fragrance of whole spices, this tempered rice is a game changer in your mundane daily meals. Sindhi cuisine is exemplary of how various food flavours and textures can amalgamate to make that perfectly nutritious and tasty platter. Typically eaten with sai bhaji, a mishmash of greens and vegetables swimming in a broth of lentils, bugha chaanwara plays the role of peas pulao or the Maharashtrian phodnicha bhaat (tempered rice). Although bugha chawal is quite different from a pulao or plain tempered rice. This rice pairs very well with both creamy and subtle gravies or even with a hot bowl of dal fry. I eat it as is too, with a bowl or curd and some papad when the rice lover in me seeks a version of rice bereft of vegetables but loaded in spice. It's extremely easy to make and there are hardly any chance of error, even if you're a newbie in cooking and end up with a sticky sort of rice instead of all-grains-separate texture in the cooked rice. Recipe Ingredients 1 cup rice 1 tbsp oil 1 bay leaf 1 black cardamom 1 cinnamon stick 3-4 cloves 1 medium sized onion 1 tsp red chili powder Salt to taste Method Wash and soak rice for at least half an hour. Heat oil in a pot or wok, and add the bay leaf, cinnamon stick and cloves and let them become fragrant. Add the onions and fry till they become golden brown. Then add red chili and fry until they turn dark brown. Add about 2 cups of water and salt generously and let the water come to a boil. Then add rice and stir everything well. Cover and let it simmer on low to medium flame until rice is completely cooked. Serve it hot with your favourite curry, dal or the quintessential Sindhi sai bhaji! Checkout the related posts below if you're looking for a dish to go with this rice. If you make this recipe and enjoy it, leave a comment or tag me on Instagram and share pictures of your creations! I'd love to hear from you and see how you enjoy this recipe! Related Posts Sai bhaji Dal Fry Palak Paneer Saag Panner Paneer Tikka Masala Chadhanchi Punjabi Chole Other Rice Dishes: Mushroom Biryani Navratan Pulao

This stew smells of my childhood memories full of my mom's cooking. I grew up on the east coast of India (in the state of Orissa) where fish is a staple food. In the Oriya language, this stew is called phulakobi-aloo machhaj-hola (cauliflower-potatoes-fish-stew). Recipe PDF In Orissa and West Bengal, this dish is made with freshwater fish such as rohu or catla. Since I moved to Canada, I have always missed eating these freshwater fishes and looked forward cooking different varieties of fish available here in the traditional stews or curries I grew up eating. Contrary to the popular notion, some species of sea fish taste excellent in lighter stews and gravies. So, when I came across sablefish while searching for some fresh ocean catch at the supermarket here, I couldn't stop from cooking it in the form of machha jhola. It's not a curry, does not involve a hundred spices and yet is so delicious! That is the beauty of simple dishes, and they are surprisingly more difficult to cook. Because, lesser the ingredients, the lesser control you have to manipulate flavours. A twin version of this same stew is a Bengali favourite too. It's called fulakopi aloo machcher jhol. Harvested in the deep Pacific ocean waters off the west coast of British Columbia, Sablefish or black cod is truly seafood of the Great White North. It has a buttery luscious texture and full of good fats your body needs. It's flakes are delicate and yet perfect for sautéing, smoking, grilling and baking. No wonder it makes way for an exquisite dinning experience every time it's served on the table. What are some points to keep in mind when cooking this stew? This stew is a regular routine food in the Oriya and Bengali households, and so it's extremely light and runny in its consistency. It teams up perfectly with steamed rice and tastes best with no fancy additions. Here is what you can do ensure you don't do too much while cooking it! Fish is lean meat. So over cooking is always a bad idea. When you pan fry the fish, roughly 2-3 minutes on each side should be the maximum. Wait for the color to turn golden yellow, and stop! The hero of this stew is potato. You read it right. Not the fish, but the potato. Parboiled potatoes will work best. Since the stew has no puree or dense cooking, parboiled potatoes when slightly mashed provide texture and body to the dish. Avoid adding any spices like garam masala to this stew. A high-note spice does not go well with the minimal frying/sautéing involved in this recipe. Fish fillets are delicate once fried. After placing them in the gravy, do not use a spatula to move them around too much. There is a chance you may break the fish fillets. Lift the pan and shake it a little to let the gravy move over and around the fish. If you are making this with freshwater fish, use mustard oil. The flavour will be amazing. Recipe Ingredients 4-5 sablefish fillets, skin on 1/2 cup parboiled potatoes 1/2 cup cauliflower florets 1 small onion chopped 2 medium tomatoes chopped For marination: 1/2 tsp each of salt, turmeric and red chili powder For the gravy: 1 tsp each of cumin seeds, minced ginger, coriander powder, turmeric, red chili powder, 1/4 tsp cumin powder, 1 dried whole red chili, 1 green chili slit, salt to taste 2 tbsp oil Some chopped fresh coriander leaves Method Marinate the fish: Wash the fish thoroughly. In a bowl, add the washed fish and then add all the ingredients for marination. Coat the fish with spices using your hands and keep aside for 5-10 minutes. Sauté the vegetables and fish Place a pan or skillet on medium heat and add 1 and 1/2 tbsp of oil. Add the parboiled potatoes and cauliflower florets and sauté till they turn golden. Keep aside. In the same pan, carefully place the marinated fish and fry for 2-3 minutes on each side. Keep aside. Make the gravy: In the same pan, add 1/2 tbsp oil and add the dry whole red chili and cumin seeds. Next, add the minced ginger and sauté for about half a minute. Add the chopped onion and fry until translucent. Add the coriander powder, turmeric, red chili powder and cumin powder, and mix everything well. Another 2 minutes in. Add the tomatoes and the slit green chili, and let the tomatoes become soggy and juicy. Add about 1 cup of water and then add salt. Bring the water to a boil and then add the vegetables. Cover and cook for about 5 minutes. Open and check the seasoning. Add more salt if you feel the need. Add the fish and let everything simmer for about 2 minutes to let some of the gravy to evaporate, and then turn off the heat. Garnish with coriander leaves and serve hot with white steamed rice!

I have been a bibliophile and a voracious reader from an early age. The earliest books I laid my hands as a little girl was Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, Malory Towers series and Wind in the Willows. It's unsurprising that I was easily drawn to English-Scottish cuisines, always imagining the pies, crumbles, scones, cobblers, puddings and mashes that I read about. These weren't a part of the food I grew up eating—naturally, as I was born and brought up in India. The closest my mother's baking got to non-Indian baked cuisine was in the form of nankhatai, similar to the Scottish shortbread. My humble attempts with baking only burgeoned after I moved to Canada. The gas stoves here (like most of the gas stoves in western countries) are equipped with an oven, and doubtlessly nudged my inquisitiveness to bake something English that I had only read about, but never made or eaten. It had to be a shepherd's pie! I mean it's quintessential and hard to bungle. Right? Although Helen Fielding in Bridget Jone's Diary had hinted otherwise: How can she mess up shepherd's pie? But dear Bridget can. Preparation for her birthday-party dinner starts to go wrong when she starts sipping on the Grand Marnier meant for the soufflés. She leaves the bag of ingredients for the salad shop, and steps in the pan of mashed potatoes in her new kitten heels. When her guests arrive, they tell her to go and get ready while they clean up the kitchen. Then they throw it all away, and go out for dinner. Daunted by my dear Bridget's shepherd's pie, I pursued to bake a vegetarian version of this classic in my almost new Le Crueset casserole. I did some research and followed my gut. The result was oh-so-good! And after that first attempt, it got me making it every time I want a quick-assemble wholesome dish. Recipe PDF Is a vegetarian pie also called shepherd-less pie? It's funny that it's called that way. Some also refer it as gardener's pie. In Chili and Peru, a similar dish is cooked called pastel de papa. Which version of the shepherd's pie does this recipe resemble? Shepherd's pie has travelled all over the United Kingdom, from Scotland to Ireland to England. My version follows the Irish mashed potato topping and not the Scottish pastry crust method. There's no beef in it, so it isn't a cottage pie. It doesn't have breadcrumb toppings, and thus not a Cumberland pie either. Is a vegetarian shepherd's pie authentic? No! A shepherd's pie traditionally has meat in it—lamb to be precise—in the gravy. What vegetables can I use in this pie? Shepherd's pie originated from the instinct to not waste food, and that appeals to me a lot. I prefer using whatever vegetables I have at my disposal. Personally, I like mushrooms, carrots, peas and lentils in the gravy, with crisped onions and sun-dried tomatoes. Leeks, celery and eggplants are other vegetables that go very well in this gravy too. So, don't hesitate from experimenting! Can I make this vegan? You definitely can! I have used Yukon gold potatoes for the crust that are mashed roughly in a bit of unsalted grass fed butter, Greek yogurt, black pepper and rock salt. To make this vegan, you can choose vegan options for the butter and yogurt. Cauliflower works great too for the crust, if you're not a potato fan or prefer them out of your diet. You could even use sweet potatoes — they're incredible! Recipe Ingredients For the vegetables: 2 tbsps olive oil, 1 bay leaf, 2 sprigs of rosemary and 1 sprig of thyme (alter the herbs as per your choice), a pinch of cumin, 2 tbsps garlic minced, 1 onion chopped, 2 cups mushrooms sliced, 2 cups carrots sliced, 2 cup green peas For the gravy: 1 large tomato, 1/2 cup sun dried tomatoes, 1 medium onion, 1 tbsp vinegar, 1/2 tsp paprika, 2 cups boiled (or a can) of brown lentils (whole black masoor dal), salt to taste For the crust: 5-6 potatoes (like Yukon Gold), 1 tbsp Greek yogurt, 1/2 tsp unsalted grass fed butter, 1/2 tsp black pepper, salt to taste Method Boil the potatoes: In a pressure cooker or instant pot, boil the potatoes. or Remove the skin of the potatoes, and in a pot of boiling salted water, add the potatoes. Cook the vegetables: In a pan or oven-safe skillet, heat oil over medium heat. Add the herbs to flavour the oil. Let the herbs become slightly crisp and then remove and keep aside. Add cumin and garlic, and toss for a few seconds. Add the onion and toss until it turns pink. Add the mushrooms and carrots, and let them sizzle on medium heat. Make the gravy: In a blender, add all ingredients mentioned for the gravy except the lentils, add some water and make a fine paste. Deglaze the pan or skillet with this gravy, and then add the lentils, stir and then add the peas. Adjust seasoning if required, and let the gravy simmer on low to medium heat for about 10 to 15 minutes or until the gravy is thick in consistency. Prepare the oven: Preheat the oven to 375ºF. Mash the potatoes: Peel the boiled potatoes, if you have boiled them in a pressure cooker or instant pot or Take them out of water if boiling in a pot. Mash them and add the ingredients mentioned for the crust. Bake the pie: If you're using an oven safe skillet, you can layer the mashed potatoes on top of the gravy. or If you're using a normal pan to make the gravy, now is the time you pour the gravy into a casserole. Then layer the mashed potatoes on top. Bake for 15 to 20 minutes or until the gravy is bubbling and the crust is golden. Serve it with simple seasonal greens or just as is! It's surely going to win you all over.

I never quite understood as a student why most children at school did not enjoy history as a subject. It has been an enchanting area of both study and leisure for me, and has only gotten better with my growing interest in how food and history are interwoven. And one of the most intriguing food history to me is the story of the simple egg. While domestication of foul goes back to 3200 B.C., the consumption of eggs seems to have started in the eastern half of the world first. Although, I have read that there seems to be evidence of the existence of native foul in the Americas before Columbus arrived. That part of the egg's history remains fuzzy. I'm a huge fan of eggs and I love making them in different ways. They're perfect for breakfast, lunches, brunches or dinner, and this version of eggs, shakshuka will surely win your heart if it hasn't already earlier. Shakshuka literally means all-mix-up and is an easy assemble and cook-all-in-a-pan dish! Recipe PDF Like many other dishes that originate elsewhere but become popular in their emigrated lands, Shakshuka follows that destiny too. Shakshuka is believed to have North-African origins and travelled to Middle-East with Jewish immigrants. It's also known that the dish originated either in Yemen or the Ottoman Empire, and the history remains disputed and misty. Shakshuka has similar looking and tasting cousins in different parts of Europe and America - huevos rancheros in Mexico, eggs in purgatory in Italy, and menemen in Turkey. In all of these versions, eggs are laid on a bed of tomato and pepper sauce (sometimes onions), either poached or scrambled, and topped with seasoning. What do I like about Shakshuka? This is an extremely low-effort no-drama dish, and it follows the same fashion while serving as well. It's placed on the table in the same pan or skillet in which it's cooked with loaves of bread on the side for everyone to scoop the saucy eggs. It's an excellent example of the dishes cooked for communal eating, where everyone eats from the same plate or dish. Shakshuka has evolved over time into different forms wherein other vegetables are added to the tomatoes and pepper sauce. This transformation makes it quite versatile. The core sauce is always tomatoes, and beyond that you can use your imagination! Peppers, potatoes, eggplants, greens and even squashes happily assimilate in the profuse base sauce on which eggs can be cracked straight on and cooked to desired doneness. It's so simple, yet so gorgeous and extremely healthy for any meal you choose to eat. And, what about this recipe? This recipe is a close call to my husband's memories of the Turkish menemen that uses green peppers along with tomatoes in the sauce and spices like black pepper and paprika. I enjoy the taste of onions and garlic in a tomato based sauce and I like that extra kick of Bird's eye chilies and jalapenos. So, they all find a home in my shakshuka too. And, of course there is some Indian influence of cumin! The eggs in this shakshuka are cooked to be partially firm, but not so much that they loose their gooey yellow flow when sliced in! Recipe Ingredients 4 eggs of your choice 2 tsp extra virgin olive oil (or any oil of your choice) 1/4 tsp cumin seeds 1 tsp garlic minced 1 small yellow onion sliced 1 green and 1 red/orange bell peppers chopped 1/4 tsp black pepper freshly crushed 1-2 hot peppers like Cayenne peppers or Thai chilies or jalapenos (optional) 1/4 smoked paprika 1/4 cumin powder 5 large tomatoes chopped or 1 small can of tomatoes salt to taste freshly chopped cilantro Method 1. In an iron skillet or pan on medium heat, add oil and some cumin seeds, and toss in garlic and onion. 2. Sauté and add the bell peppers and freshly crushed black pepper. 3. Add the chilies now if you wish to add them. 4. Keep mixing and add smoked paprika and cumin powder. 5. Next add the tomatoes. This will automatically bring down the heat. 6. Add water and salt to taste and bring the gravy to a boil. 7. Make depths in the gravy with the back of a spoon and toss in eggs in the spots. 8. Cover the pan and poach the eggs to your liking. 9. Open and garnish with fresh cilantro. Toast a good bread and dig into the saucy eggs resting in the pan! Shakshuka is one of my personal favourite recipes and if you're an egg lover like me, I'm sure you'll thoroughly enjoy it.

I have explored eating sea fish in the last couple of years or so, and more so after moving out of India. It has been said that necessity is the mother of creativity. To a large extent, this idiom holds true for my story of cooking with sea fish. Having grown up eating fresh water fish, the taste and smell of ocean fish hadn't appealed to me until I came to Canada, where finding typical Indian river water fish is almost a dream. Cod is one such ocean fish that I have loved ever since I tasted it. I love cod for its extreme delicateness, though the same thing becomes quite tricky while cooking it in a pan. The lean white meat and flakiness with a mild taste of this fish reminds me very much of tender chicken. It needs the simplest of spices and sometimes none! For this recipe of cod fish, I did a low-fuss less-drama preparation. Recipe PDF Like spices, amidst the meaty-food world, cod is a fish that has been revolutionary in history. Found in the North Atlantic shore, it attracted the Vikings and Basques to go fishing all the way up to North America and take back these marine creatures highly valued for their flesh and oil. Cod stays fresh when salted and stored, and was perfect to be carried back to Europe. Over the years, humankind has done a lot to deplete this wonder of the ocean. This post is somehow also poignant as it makes me think how less of humans we are to be so greedy! The almost pescatarian that I am, perhaps I will give up eating cod someday (I hardly eat it even now, as it's rare to find it in the super market often). Until then, this recipe is from cod, with love! An excerpt from Mark Kurlansky's book, Cod: A biography of a fish that changed the world: In July 1992, the Canadian government closed Newfoundland waters, the Great Banks, and most of the Gulf of St. Lawrence to groundfishing. Groundfish, of which the most sought after is cod, are those that live in the bottom layer of the ocean's water. By the time the moratorium was announced, the fishermen of Pretty Harbour, seeing the rapid decline of their once prolific catch, had been demanding it for years. They had claimed, and it is now acknowledged, that the offshore trawlers were taking nearly every last cod. In the 1980s, the government scientists had ignored the cry of inshore fishermen that the cod were disappearing. This deafness proved costly. Are there any pointers to cook cod? Cod has a slightly salty nuance in it's taste. So, I recommend cooking it with minimum salt as possible. I usually marinate my fish with a tinge of salt and some herb or spice, and it's true for this recipe too. So, I do not add any extra salt to cod fish once it's in the pan. It's quite flaky and hence I do not enjoy grilling it. It's great to bake and fry! If you're a fan of chowders, cod makes a good candidate for it. Recipe Ingredients 1 large or 2 medium portions of cod fish For marination: 1 tsp garlic minced, a pinch each of black pepper and rock salt, 1 tsp lime juice and few mint leaves For the green sauce: small bundles of coriander, parsley and basil, 1 tsp of dried rosemary For sauteing: 1 tsp of extra virgin olive oil, 1 tsp garlic diced, 3-4 scallions diced Method Marinate the fish: Add all ingredients mentioned for the marination in a plate, place the fish over them and gently rub everything onto the fish. Cover and keep for about 30 minutes. Note: Keeping it marinated for an hour or more is not a problem (in case you want to marinate and keep it and get back to cooking it later). I don't store fish in refrigerator after marination, and I don't marinate fish for a very long time. Make the sauce: Add all sauce ingredients in a blender and make a fine paste. Keep aside. Cook the fish: Heat oil in a pan over low to medium flame, and add the garlic and scallions. Toss for a few seconds and add the fresh green sauce. Cook for two minutes and then gently slide the marinated cod into the pan. After about 3-4 minutes, flip the cod onto the other side. Note: Tossing cod fish can be tricky. Always keep the heat below medium and gently turn the fish to cook the other side. Cover the pan for a bit to let the aroma of the paste sink into the cod. Once cooked, remove the fish from the pan and serve with a load of colorful veggies and a big ring of lime! You can add a portion of your favourite rice or pasta if you like on the side. I enjoy eating it just as is too, with loads of steamed or sautéed bell peppers, broccoli and root vegetables like carrots or potatoes.

Does the mention of sardine in a salad drive you away or make you crave a bite? Either way, I have you covered with this sardine salad - a mouthful of exploding flavours. Think of this as a close kin of the Niçoise salad minus the potatoes, olives replaced with jalapenos and tuna or anchovy replaced with sardines! Recipe PDF I know that sardines are not for everyone. Let me tell you that opting for boneless ones could change your perspective! (Although, I personally like the with-bone ones more. Once the side is eaten off, the mid skeleton bone comes right off. No hassle!) Powerhouses of a number of minerals including iron, potassium and magnesium, and sources of Omega-3 fatty acids, vitamins and proteins, sardines are one of those understated members of the seafood family that can taste a wonder if you know how to team them up! The history of canning sardines is not too old. It started around 1820 when Pierre-Joseph Colin first tinned them in his vegetable canning factory in Nantes, France. Sardines became popular in America only recently in the history, around 1950s. The best way I like to have fresh sardines is to grill and let the skin char a bit, and sprinkle freshly ground pepper, salt and lemon on top. I find the fresh ones to be less fishy, though I cannot usually find fresh ones at the local store. Canned ones are fishy too, but the right marinade can do all the magic. What can I do to tone down the fishiness of sardines? If you wish to broil or grill, try a good marinade which has two or more of things like ginger, soy sauce, mustard, chili oil, shallots, garlic, peppers! If you are having sardine in a salad, add vegetables that you enjoy. I pick and experiment and it turns out great with potatoes (sweet or regular), tomatoes, cucumbers, eggplants, zucchini, asparagus, snow peas, or leafy ones like arugula, spinach, chard, kale or collard. Adding onions and garlic helps to keep the fishiness away too. You could also toss them into pasta, pile on rice, add them into a quiche or tacos! The recipe of the sardine salad here is an extremely simple one, and perfect for a light to medium filling meal. You can easily double the ingredients to make a bigger portion. It can be a side salad to a larger meal or a smaller meal on its own. The dressing is very simple: the mustard and grapeseed oil give a rounded flavour to the sardines helping to balance their strong flavour. The star of the salad (apart from the sardines of course) is jalapeno, which gives that rustic feel to the tanginess of lime. Recipe Ingredients 1 can of sardines 1 large cucumber chopped 2 medium tomatoes chopped 2 jalapenos A big batch of arugula leaves For the dressing: 1/2 tsp Dijon mustard, 1 tsp grapseed oil, squeeze of a 1 big slice of lime, freshly ground pepper, rocksalt Method Mix the dressing ingredients in a cup and keep aside. Mix the salad ingredients in a bowl. Drizzle the dressing on the salad and mix. Smooth as a breeze, right! Enjoy as it is or toss into freshly boiled pasta!