I’ve always wanted to master the simple chicken-and-rice dish that almost every food culture has. Murgh pilau, Dajjaj wa ruz, Arroz con Pollo, etc. So, after years of watching my mom do it, plus a lot of self-reassuring and instructional phone calls from my mom, i finally decided to attempt it.

Success! This was the most yummy one pot meal I’ve ever made. For the chicken, I used skinless chicken drumstick pieces. For the vegetables, I used eggplant, peas, and carrots. I guess this one was more Arab style then desi style because I put vegetables in it and toasted nuts on top. With some raisins and shredded carrots, it could be an Afghani murgh pilau. The possiblities are endless!

Ingredients: these are all variables. You just need one of each thing. it’s about proportions. the directions will tell you how.

Bone-in chicken breast or chicken pieces
Basmati Rice
Vegetables: Eggplant (fried), Carrots, frozen peas
Base flavoring: Onions and garlic
Spice mixture: cumin, turmeric, garlic powder, paprika/cayenne, black pepper
Cooking Liquid: Water (or stock, or water + Chicken bullion cubes)
Garnish: Cucumber-Mint yogurt and nuts toasted in oil

Directions
1. Chop and pan fry the eggplant until golden brown on the edges. Lightly sautee chopped carrots, if desired.

2. Chop and sautee onions and garlic in some olive oil; add some tomato paste if desired.

3. Rinse chicken and pat dry. Sprinkle very strongly with spice mixture and put, seasoned side down, into the hot onion/garlic pan to sear. No matter how many chicken pieces are being used, only sear the chicken in one layer.

4. While the chicken is searing, season the other side. Turn to brown both sides.

5. Add in the amount of chicken stock (water + bullion) needed to cook the rice (1:2 ratio rice to liquid) plus 1/2 cup extra stock per cup of rice to compensate for the chicken. (e.g. for two cups of rice, use 4 + 1 cup stock)

6. Add all the chicken to the liquid. Taste the stock and adjust spices and salt as needed. Bring the liquid to a boil, then let it simmer rapidly for 30 minutes.

7. Add washed rice, eggplant, diced carrots, and frozen peas to the pot. Stir well to distribute everything evenly.

8. Bring the pot to a boil. Let it boil until the liquid is almost dried out. Cover and lower the heat almost all the way down. Let it “steep” until the liquid is all dry.

Serve with yogurt with mint and cucumbers.

To serve Arab style: Lightly sautee/toast almonds and/or pine nuts in a pan with olive oil. Spread the rice in a large dish and top with chicken. When the nuts are golden brown and crunchy, pour the nuts and oil all over the top of the rice.

For Kebsa, an Arab chicken with tomatoey-rice dish: No eggplants, but shredded carrots and/or chickpeas if desired. For the cooking liquid, mix one part tomato sauce with one part stock. Add chopped tomatoes before cooking the rice. Serve with a tomato-jalapeno-onion relish.

Afghani Palau: brown the onions very well before adding the chicken. No eggplant, but shred the carrots and add raisins before boiling and steeping the rice.

Arroz con Pollo: use sofrito (onions, garlic, green peppers) as a base for searing the chicken instead of just onions and garlic. Carrots and peas are the usual vegetables for this dish.

For an Asian variation: Use white and green onions, garlic, and ginger as base to sear chicken. Season the chicken with soy sauce, allspice, garlic, ginger, black pepper. Add mushrooms, shredded cabbage, and shredded carrots before cooking the rice.

My first experience with the famous Chicken 65 was when a bunch of my Hyderabadi friends mentioned it as their favorite dish. I, a strict Punjabi, had never heard of the thing. They raved about how good it was, but I never bothered to investigate further.

Then, last week, I went to visit some family in New Jersey. My aunt served this delicious looking red chicken, sprinkled with curry leaves. I thought it was normal tandoori chicken (which I love), so I was excited. But when I took a bite…..the love affair began.

This stuff is awesome. It’s an amazing balance of sour, sweet, savory, and downright spicy. My mom and I challenged ourselves to recreate it at home, and she found this recipe by the Vah Chef (this guy is pretty fun to watch; i’ll have to investigate further). Why’s it called Chicken 65? Vah Chef tells you.

I’ve just written out his recipe, plus a few changes that we made. I’m giving the recipe as we made it, but I think next time we’ll make it a bit saucier (i.e. double all the sauce ingredients except maybe the curry leaves). I suggest you watch his video for the technique alongside this recipe (not that it’s that complicated, but he’s really excited about it).

Recipe after the jump.

Chicken 65
Adapted from Vah Chef

Chicken and Marinade
2 lbs boneless chicken legs and thighs, cut into cubes
2 heaping tablespoons cornstarch
1 egg, beaten
salt, black pepper
1 tsp each fresh ginger and garlic

Sauce
1 or 2 small green chilis, cut into slivers
Handful of fresh cilantro, roughly chopped
1 tsp cumin (zeera) seeds
1 tsp powdered cumin
1/2 to 1 tsp chili powder (to taste)
1/4 cup chili-garlic sauce (see note)
about 10 curry leaves, roughly chopped
1 tbs each fresh ginger and garlic
1/2 – 1 tsp garam masala
salt, black pepper
1 tbs lemon juice
1/4 cup water
4-5 drops red food coloring

Note: our Swad brand chili-garlic sauce was not very spicy, and it was more saucy than say, a Sriracha. That’s why we were able to use 1/4 cup of it. If you’re using Sriracha, use as much as you want for the spice content, and then maybe add a little Pakistani-style ketchup for the sauce factor.

1. Marinate the chicken pieces in salt, pepper, ginger, and garlic for about 15-20 minutes. (Note that Vah Chef uses aginimoto, aka MSG. I do not.)
2. Add the cornstarch to the chicken and mix well to coat. Add a beaten egg and stir until coated. It’s okay if it’s lumpy.
3. Deep fry the chicken pieces in oil and drain on a paper towel while you make the sauce.

4. Heat some oil in a pan and add the cumin seeds. When they start sputtering, add the garlic and ginger, the green chilis, cumin powder, chili powder, garam masala, and some black pepper.
5. After couple minutes, add the curry leaves. DO NOT SKIMP ON THE CURRY LEAVES. They are what make the entire dish.

Wait, Cup of Tea, you say. You said there’s really no such thing as curry. True. It’s not a catch-all for all Desi food, it’s the name of one particular dish. “Curry” as Desis know it is chickpea fritters in cooked turmeric-yellow yogurt sauce flavored with *surprise!* curry leaves. Curry leaves are very popular in South Indian cooking. They have a sour, bitter, peppery smell, and are usually added to vegetable dishes (lentils, eggplant, cabbage), to add a sour, peppery flavor (bitter only if you add too many).

But I digress.

6.5. Add half the cilantro leaves as well.
7. Add the chili sauce (or chili sauce + ketchup). Let everything cook together for a few minutes. When it starts to dry up, add the lemon juice and red food coloring. (i guess you could make it red, blue, or green too, but that would just be weird).
8. Right before you add the chicken back into the pan, add the water to the spices and stir until everything is well dissolved.
9. Add the chicken back in and stir to cover with the sauce. Cook until the water is absorbed.
10. Before serving, sprinkle with the rest of the fresh cilantro.

Awesome. Trust me.

It’s impossible to try to remember them all, but I’ll try to remember some of the most famous ones. Sweet, soft leechi pervade your senses with a light perfume as you peel off the knobbly red, paper thin skin. The fruits are translucent white, reminiscent of little rounds of mother-of-pearl wrapped wrapped around a hard central stone.

Little blue-black jaamun grow wild in huge groups on trees, which young boys climb up to spend the day eating jaamun and throwing the seeds down on passing schoolfellows (usually girls they have crushes on). Jaamun are dipped in salt, they stain blue-black anything they touch, and they’re good for diabetes, somehow. My mom really loves these.

Fresh citrus fruits – like malta and limboon – are squeezed to make fresh juice or lemon/limeade (called squash). My dad really loves my grandmother’s fresh orange juice in the winter.

Melons of every kind are also abundant, but a kind of white honeydew is the most popular. Tarbooz (or kharbooza, depends on the variety) come with a funny story. A friend of my dad complained about the lack of adventure with American melons. “Amreeki tarboozon ka bhi kya maza? (What’s the fun in American melons?)” he said, “Every one you buy is sweet. In Pakistan, you bring four melons home, and the whole family sits together to determine which one is the sweetest and most perfumed. ‘Cut me a slice!’ we all cry, and everyone in turn gets a bite of each melon. ‘No, no, that one is horrible, bilkul pheeka hai (it’s completly bland!)’ ‘That one is okay, put it aside there.’ ‘Oh! this one is perfect! Shehad jaisay metha hai! (It is as sweet as honey!)”

But there is no argument about which fruit brings Pakistanis the most pleasure and pride – Aam!. Colored with sunset hues of gold, yellow, and reddish-orange, mangos are called “The King of Fruit.”

If the Inuit have tens of words for snow, well, Pakistanis have a different word for each variety of mango that appears throughout the summer. There’s Duseri, a little fibrous fruit with thin skin that you eat by squeezing till the flesh inside is pureed, then cut a slit in the top and drink down the juicy pulp. Chaunsa, a huge mango with firm flesh that you can cut into cubes and serve with ice cream or custard (i mean huge. gets to be a pound heavy or more, even). Langra, or “crippled man” an ovalur fruit with a tiny curved bottom “leg.” Sindhri, Alphonso, and so many more!

The obsession is pervasive across the whole culture. We’ll buy anything that comes in mango flavor or scent: candy, ice cream, drinks. Upon learning, by some horrible accident, that a Pakistani (like my cousin Sameer) doesn’t like mangos, everyone around him will try to convince him that he must not have ever had a properly ripe mango, or that he should try a particular variety, desperately trying to convince him that he must be mistaken.

And there is certainly a ritual with eating mangoes. They are best eaten cold and one after another, with your sleeves rolled up, and with a big group of laughing friends and family, pulp and juice smeared over everyones faces.

Usually, a paiti (wooden crate) of mangoes is dumped into a big bowl of ice water and set in the center of the room. Children (and often old uncles) are stripped down to their undershirts or bare chests so that the yellow juice won’t irreparably stain their clothing. Younger infants are handed the huge center pit so they can teethe on the soft flesh and smooth pit beneath. With a good set of mangoes, you really don’t even need to eat a meal beforehand!

And oh, what a horror to befall an American traveller, should one be unlucky enough to get some sort of stomach bug, because the fiber in mangos isn’t the best thing for one when you’ve got the runs…..and then one has to sit there, meloncholy, while everyone else digs in (no, I’m not bitter, why would you say that?)

My favorite mango eating memory was in Kashmir, where my parents and I went to visit an old college friend of my dad’s. We had a light lunch, and then went for a walk on the banks of the Jhelum and Neelam rivers as they intersected in the valley. The mountain ice had made the rivers freezing cold, so we left a crate of mangoes in the flowing water, lodged between rocks, while we walked around. An hour later, we had an ice cold mango picnic, surrounded by the breathtaking beauty of the summer Himalayan mountains.

So strong is our obsession, that even the rule of law cannot remove us from our beloved fruit.

I remember once leaving Islamabad to come back home. We went from Islamabad to London to Raleigh, and I noticed one Pakistani family following us the whole way. When we got to Customs at RDU Airport, I noticed that the father was carrying a large shopping bag. It was tied at the top, but the unmistakable bulge of several round fruits were visible from the outside. The small room smelled resolutely of mangoes. The man and his family come to the customs desk, and the Officer eyed him suspiciously.

“Sir, are you carrying any food?” he asked.

“No.”

“Uh. Mangos.”

Needless to say, they were confiscated. But at least he tried!

To marinate: Marinate peeled, deveined shrimp in a mixture of yogurt and a few teaspoons (or more, to taste) of a tandoori or tikka masala spice mix. (I have to say that, as much as I try to be original, I am completely unembarrassed by using a tandoori spice mix. I use the mix by Shan Masala.) Put it in the fridge for a few hours if you’re marinating ahead of time and take them out about 30 min before ready to serve, to let them come to room temperature before being cooked.

To cook: Grill or saute the shrimp a couple of minutes per side. Squirt with lemon juice. Serve atop slices of green bell pepper with a dollop of cucumber-mint yogurt.

To serve as a meal: Add a little extra yogurt to the marinade (and more spice mix if you want too). Saute onions, garlic, and green bellpepper until soft (and tomatoes, if you want). Add the shrimp in a single layer and cook for 1 or 2 minutes. Turn them over. Add some cream and mix well to smooth out the sauce. Cook until cream is reduced to desired thickness. Serve over rice or couscous (or, add more cream and serve it over pasta!)

I. Love. This. Dessert. I love it. I asked my mom to show me how to make it this weekend – and here it is! This is a Pakistani version of bread pudding made with sandwich bread instead of chunks of a more airy loaf. There are two keys to this dish: golden brown, crispy toast that soak up the sweet saffron-cardamom cream. The toasts are then served in a little pool of saffron cream, sprinkled with bright green pistachios.

Shahi Tukray literally translated, means “Royal pieces.” Shahi comes from the Persian word Shah, king. When it’s used to describe something – food, a monument, some land – it designates that this is something of the Mughal era (or at least something hoping to be associated as such!) As it relates to food, Shahi foods are rich, made with a lot of sugar, cream, meat, and butter to evoke the wealth of the kings. Examples: Shahi Haleem, a rich meat and lentil stew; Shahi Nehari, another rich and luscious meat stew, Shahi Pilau, a sweet-savory rice dish where rice is cooked in broth, then mixed with shredded carrots and plump raisins – sometimes a quarter to a half of it is removed and sweetened with sugar before being mixed back into the savory rice.

Shahi Tukray are no exception to the norm of richness. I crispen the toasts under the broiler, but the old way was to fry each one in butter on both sides. There’s a lot of cream, butter, and zaafran (saffron – which isn’t as rare in Pakistan as it is here, because it’s farmed in Kashmir, but it’s not cheap, either). You can use more or less milk, depending on how much saffron cream you want with each serving. I like quite a bit, so I usually use more milk or cream than other people. Toast, in urdu, is called “Double Roti” – Double Bread. Thus, this dish is also known, colloquially, as “Double ka Meetha” – Toast dessert.

Side note – Do you know why saffron is so expensive? Because saffron threads are actually the dried stigma of a very specific kind of crocus flower which is native to Southeast Asia. The stigmas have to be handpicked out, and each flower produces only three. If I was doing that, I’d make it the most expensive spice in the world too.

Click for the recipe and lots more pretty pictures!

Shahi Tukray

1 quart half and half + 1 or 2 cups whole milk
2 cup sugar to start + more to taste
A few saffron threads
1 tsp ground cardamom
1 loaf white sandwich bread (recommend: Pepperidge Farm. You want something drier than normal white bread.)
Slivered almonds
Ground pistachios

1. In a saucepan, heat the half and half, milk, and sugar, stirring constantly. When it starts to simmer, add the ground cardamom and keep stirring for a few minutes.

2. Let the mixture simmer well for a good 10 minutes, stirring as often as you can to prevent scorching. As my mom says, you need let the sugar cook and dissolve completely. Taste and add more sugar if you want – the cream mixture has to be pretty sweet, because it needs to be sweet enough for the toast as well.

3. Between 5 and 7 minutes into the simmer, add the saffron to the cream mixture and watch it turn that beautiful golden color. If you would like to put almonds into the dish instead of sprinkling them on top, put them into the milk here so they get a little softer.

4. Cut the crusts off of one whole loaf of sandwich bread. Cut the squares in half once to make two triangles. Put them on a cookie sheet in a single layer. Spray/brush with oil, butter or cooking spray and place under a low broiler until golden brown. Turn them over, spray, and toast again until golden brown. Let them cool for a few minutes to crispen up.

5. Arrange the crisped toasts in a 13×9 (or about that big) pan, layering them on top of each other. Pour the hot saffron cream on top and (this is important) use a spatula to push the toast down into the cream, holding it down for a few seconds in each area to make sure the toast absorbs the cream. (see the picture above)

6. (This is also important) Lay a piece of plastic wrap on the toast so that the wrap is touching the surface of the cream/toast all over (this prevents a skin from forming). Let it cool on the counter for a little while, then refridgerate. This is delicious served warm or cold, but the latter is more traditional.

7. To serve: in a bowl or slightly deep plate, place a few pieces of the now deliciously creamy and saffron colored toast. Pour a little of the cream on top and sprinkle with ground pistachios and slivered almonds (toasted, even better!)

Other yummy things
Coconut-Saffron Ice Cream by David Lebovitz

On a summer day in Pakistan, things move at a leisurely pace. Offices are closed from noon to four o’clock and everything has to get done early in the morning or late at night. Lunch is a few chapattis with a spicy saalan, followed by a long nap. It’s just too hot to do anything else.

This beautiful ruby red syrup, named “the nurturer of the soul,” is made from roses and kewra, a Pandanus flower extract. Rooh Afza is the star of many summer treats. It provides a beautiful pink contrast when drizzled over top of Kulfi, a creamy-white cardamom ice cream, or mixed in with the faloodah (vermicelli noodles), or tukhmalanga (basil seeds) that top the kulfi. I can imagine someone more creative and less lazy than me using this syrup in various ways at a Valentine’s Day party or something equally as cute. (Speaking of cute, look at the Rooh Afza bottlecap to the left. Aww.)

Especially during the loadshedding hours, where power is cut off in sectors of the cities to save the system from overload, everyone sits around with woven reed pankhiyaan, or “little fans” (or, as my Farat Phuppo calls them, “hand AC’s”) drinking something cold. My favorite of these cooling summer drinks is ice-cold water sweetened with Rooh Afza.

Summer Rooh Afza

I love the taste of this syrup, so I prefer a higher proportion of syrup to water than other people may. This drink is very dependent on personal taste, and this is how I like it.

1 tbs. Rooh Afza
1 cup cold water
Ice

Pour the Rooh Afza into a shaker or pyrex glass measuring cup. Pour the cold water on top of it and stir/whisk/mix very well until the syrup is completely dissolved in the water. Fill a glass with ice and pour the Rooh Afza water on top. (Some people also add fresh lemon juice.) Enjoy!

And, as befits a culture influenced by Persians, Arabs, and Mughals, an eminent poet also wrote a poem about Rooh Afza.

‘If you look at its colour, it enchants your heart. If you taste it, you find its flavour enlivening. In fragrance it excels other flowers. In efficacy it is quite an elixir. Its refreshing and invigorating effect is beyond reckoning. A sharbat like Rooh Afza has never been produced, nor ever shall be.’ — Sa’il Dehlavi

Ramadan Rooh Afza

There’s another version of Rooh Afza that is a particular treat in Ramadan. Instead of water, the syrup is mixed with cold milk and served with spicy samosas and pakoras at Iftar, after the day’s fast. It’s probably not smart to eat spicy food after you’ve had nothing in your stomach all day, but try telling a Pakistani to eat bland food. We’ve been known to carry around bottles of Tabasco in our purses. So, the sweetness and softness of the milk gives both quick energy and a bit of cushion against the savory-spicy food. I use the same proportion of milk to Rooh Afza as with the Summer Rooh Afza.

More information about Rooh Afza

Rooh Afza comes in a bottle and can be found at South Asian grocery stores. Experiment with it as an accent to desserts, drinks, or anything you can think of, and let me know how it turns out!

On the history and cultural effects of Rooh Afza, from Hamdard Laboratories
RoohAfza.com, featuring I *heart* Rooh Afza tshirts and mugs
100th Anniversary of Rooh Afza (created in 1907 by Hakeem Abdul Majeed)

What kind of kabaabs drop out of school? Dum Kabaabs! (my husband, ladies and gentleman).

These little nuggets of yummy are called “dum kabaab.” I can’t really translate “dum” into one word, but it’s what you do to tea after you put the teabag in (let it steep) or what you do to rice after the water boils and you turn the heat low to let it finish (let it simmer/cook slowly?). At any rate, you sear meatballs in a pan, then top them with softened onions, tomatoes, and cilantro. (Like we did with bhindi, remember?) Also, these freeze really well with or without the onion-tomato mixture.

My mom makes these *perfectly* – all the kabaabs are the same shape and size, and everything is seasoned beautifully. Mine came out oddly shaped (some of them were triangular, I don’t know how that happened) and a little less seasoned than I’d like, but still good. I actually seasoned these lightly since I was making them for guests and I didn’t want them to be overwhelming – so add more spices for a stronger flavor.

Recipe here:

Dum Kabaab

3 lbs ground beef
1 1/2 or 2 pieces of toast made into breadcrumbs
1 small onion, pureed
1 egg
1 tbs ground cumin
1 tbs ground coriander
1 tbs cayenne
1 tbs salt
Bunch of fresh cilantro
3 onions, or more if you like
2 tomatoes

The Kabaabs
— Mix together in a food processor: ground beef, pureed onion, egg, breadcrumbs, spices, handful of fresh cilantro. Only put in enough breadcrumbs so that you can shape the meat into little patties.
— Shape the meat into oblong meatballs, about 2 inches long.
— Over medium heat, heat some oil in a frying pan and cook the kabaabs on both sides. Try not to move them around too much so they get a nice sear on the outside. You can pretty much cook them all the way through because they won’t really cook again (maybe just be reheated).
— Remove the kabaabs and cover.

Onion-Tomato mixture
— Slice the onions thinly and add them to a heated frying pan.
— Dice the tomatoes and add them in with the onions when they’ve gotten a bit translucent.
— Sprinkle in some salt and cumin
— Add in a handful of chopped fresh cilantro. Cook till the onions and tomatoes are soft.

Assembly
— Put a layer of the onion-tomato mixture on the bottom of an oven-safe or stove-safe serving dish.
— Put the kabaabs in, all side by side
— Pour the rest of the onion-tomato mixture on top.
— Let it simmer on the stove or in a 250 oven for about 15 minutes to let all the flavors meld. On the step above, try not leave too much moisture in the tomatoes otherwise it will all come out here and the final dish will be too watery.

Serve with rice or naan.

This is one of my favorite Desi dishes to make and eat. It’s all about freshness. Fresh okra is fried and then sautéed with fresh onions and tomatoes and sprinkled with bright green cilantro at the end. The tomatoes and onions make the dish slightly sweet and frying the okra keeps the whole thing from becoming slimy and gooey. My usual shortcut of frozen, pureed onions and tomatoes will not work – the fresh onion/tomato mixture is what gives the whole thing the spicy, tangy flavor that makes this dish so delicious.

It’s really not that difficult and completely worth the effort – try it!

Click link below for recipe

Bhindi
Okra with tomatoes and onions

Preparing the okra
- Wash and cut the okra into pieces – about a 1/4 inch dice. With each piece of okra, cut off the stem and a tiny little bit from the pointy part, just to get the black tip off. Then, cut each piece into three or four pieces.
- Heat a layer of oil in a deep sauté pan – not enough to deep fry, but enough to pan fry. Fry the okra pieces on both cut sides so that they get golden brown. Don’t just throw it in there – make sure the cut ends are frying in the hot oil, then turn it over and do the other side. Take them out and drain on paper towels.
- This is an important step – it seals the gooeyness inside so that the entire dish isn’t a big bowl of goop. People (read: My husband) don’t like eating okra because it’s slimy – but because of the frying, there’s no sliminess here!
- For this recipe, I had already fried the okra and frozen it. All I had to do was pull it out of the freezer. Thus – I don’t know how much fresh okra I used – but already fried, it was about a cereal bowl full (so 2 cups?)

Preparing the masala
- 1 large onion or 1 1/2 medium onions, sliced very thinly
- 1 1/2 or 2 medium tomatoes, small dice
- Fresh cilantro, chopped
- 1 tsp. Tomato paste
- 1/2 tsp. powdered cumin [or more to taste]
- 1/2 tsp. cayenne pepper [or more to taste]
- Half a jalapeno, quartered
- Salt to taste

- Clean out the oil from the sauté pan. Add a liiiiiitle bit more if necessary. Sweat the onions slowly so they get translucent but not brown and crispy.
- Add in a heaping teaspoon of tomato paste [this isn't really necessary; it adds a nice color]
- Once the onions are soft, add in the tomatoes, let them cook and get soft a little
- Add in the powdered spices, let it stew together for a few minutes
- Add in the fried okra, let it stew together for a few minutes
- Add in the chopped cilantro [stems and leaves, always] and just let the whole thing come together and get yummy.

Bhindi doesn’t really go well with rice, so serve with naan, roti, or paratha.

Seasoned chicken cooked with chickpeas and potatoes. Delish. My mom cooks it with whole chicken pieces, which I think tastes better, but I didn’t have any so I shortcutted it with boneless chicken breast.

Click below for the recipe

- 1/2 boneless chicken breast, cubed
- 2 cans chickpeas
- 1 medium potato, sliced (about equal parts chickpeas-potatoes)
- 1 medium onion, diced (or pureed, easier)
- 1 heaping tsp minced or pureed garlic
- 2 heaping tsp tomato paste
- 2 tomatoes, chopped
- 1/2 tsp cumin seeds
- 1/2 tsp black cumin seeds (not nigella seeds – they’re long and thin like normal “white” cumin, just black and a little drier)
- 1 heaping tsp powdered cumin
- 1/2 tsp cayenne pepper
- 1/4 to 1/2 tsp garam masala (this can be strong, so start with a little, taste, and add more of any of the spices if you want)
- Coriander [a.k.a. Cilantro], stalks and leaves
- Chicken broth, about 2 cups
- salt to taste

Making the Masala
1. Put oil in a deep saute pan. When it’s warm, add in the whole spices and let them toast a little. Add in the onions. (if using whole onions, sweat/soften them). Add garlic. Add tomato paste.
2. Add powdered spices and salt. Mix it together, let it cook until it looks past-y and darkens a little.
3. Add in one of the tomatoes. Mix, cook a little till some juice comes out.

Adding the chicken
4. Add in the chicken cubes. Mix well to cover in the masala and cook for just a few minutes until they’re just cooked/seared on the outside. Usually you “bhoon” (cook with whole spices) meat before adding in the vegetables. Don’t cook the chicken all the way.

Adding the vegetables.
5. Add in the other tomato, the chickpeas, and the potatoes. Stir well, covering with the masala, let it cook for a few minutes.
6. Pour in the chicken stock. You might want to start with less and add more if you need it to finish cooking the potatoes and chickpeas. Put it on medium-high, cover, let it bubble and cook.

7. Finely dice the stalks of coriander – about 7 or 8 of them, and put into the mix. As the liquid simmers, it’ll draw a fresh, tangy flavor from the stems.
8. Let it bubble until the vegetables are soft or almost soft. Add in some fresh jalapeno (Unseeded, baby. Seeding a jalapeno for a desi is like cutting off your own hand.) Uncover to let the rest of the liquid evaporate, to your desired soup-iness.
9. Add in some fresh chopped cilantro. Let it wilt into the mix.

Serve with rice and/or naan.

I’m afraid of cooking Desi food. There, I’ve said it.

It seems so easy when Mama does it – Just throws stuff into a pot and it turns out amazing every time, MashAllah. I’ll stand by and “help” as she says “stir this” or “add a little of this.” If I try to ask how many teaspoons of zeera to add, she looks at me lovingly and just pours a bit into her hand and says “this much.” Cool, but not entirely helpful.

Part of it is that I feel like my food can’t be as good as Mama’s. She’s especially known for her paper-thin parathas, crispy on the outside and filled on the inside with several soft layers of yumminess. But some of my favorite times have been learning the “tricks of the trade” from her as she teaches me what spices, stocks, meats, and vegetables make the perfect masala for the perfect saalan.

mmm….aaalooo

So this is my first experience as cooking desi food by myself, entirely – Usually it’s the recipe-based or improvising Amreeky/Italian style dinners I can think of or eating what Mama graciously makes for us, me being still a student-wife, or something that I’ve stirred while Mama’s taken the lead.

*Note* As I start blogging about cooking – one important thing. “Curry” is not a general term for Pakistani dishes. I’ve always called them “saalan” for generic dishes, “korma” for meat stew type dishes and “bhujiya” for vegetable mixes. Curry is actually a specific dish made with pakoras (little fried gram flour patties) in a turmeric-yellow yogurt sauce. I’ll use “curry” to translate for convenience and because I can’t think of any other word….but I really hate everything being called a “curry.”

A second note for cooking desi food. The base of most desi foods is softened [and then often pureed onions.] So before you make anything, you chop onions, soften them, and then put everything else in. Mama does a smart thing and keeps boxes of pureed onions in the freezer so that she can just take out spoonfulls of it to cook dinner quickly. So when I say “onions” – i mean this frozen mixture – but you can just do the whole drill.

Recipe after the link

Aallo and Mutter Bhujiya [Potato and Pea Vegetable Curry]
Four or five side dish size servings
Total time: not sure how long it takes normal people; it took me quite a bit longer than it should have since it was my first attempt.

Three potatoes, peeled and sliced rather thinly
A couple of big fat tomatoes
Frozen peas – I think I used about 3/4 of a cup – use more or less or none at all depending on taste. [Really, you can add any vegetables to a "bhujiya" (a vegetable saalan)
About 3-4 tablespoons of pureed onions
Minced garlic to taste
Water - I ended up using about 2-3 cups, I think
Cumin - probably about 1/2 teaspoon or more
Cayenne - 1/2 tsp or more
Salt and pepper

Put a little oil in a pan and add the onions and garlic. Add in potatoes, mix em around, coating in the onions and garlic, and let cook a few minutes while you chop the tomatoes.

Add tomatoes and frozen peas. [the tomatoes ones i used were actually frozen tomatoes that we had bought in bulk and frozen the ones we didn't use immediately, which is good cuz they provide liquid/juice and redd-ish color to the whole thing - but fresh is obviously okay too]

Add in the cumin, cayenne, salt, and pepper. You could also add just a little turmeric (start with 1/4 tsp, it’s strong.), some black mustard seeds, some black cumin seeds, or some coriander seeds. [If you add these whole spices, add towards the beginning so the oil will toast them a little and whole mixture will be flavored by it]

Let everything mesh for a minute or so, then add water. About the water – I don’t know yet exactly how much is needed; I had to keep checking the “done-ness” of the potatoes and adding more until they were soft enough. Try it – and if you figure out how much it needs, let me know. Cover. Let the water be simmering/bubbling….it wasn’t a rapid boil when I made it.

The water will absorb into the potatoes. Check done-ness by mushing a slice and if it’s still too hard, add more water and do it again. Towards the end, uncover and let the water evaporate out. Check the seasonings, adjust as necessary.

Yumminess. I was so proud of myself that I took pictures and sent them to my parents, even though they were in California. [Oh, also, there was a mid-cooking panic call to Daddy, also a fantastic cook: The potatoes aren't cooking; they're still hard! what do I do? He told me to add more water and relax. Thanks, Pops.]

Served with rice or warm, soft naan.