Going Indian

I was watching Nigella Lawson on the television last night – yes, the hostess with the mostest, especially in seductive adjectives, the lady I wish I did not sound so much like on occasion. She sashayed her way through Indian food, producing a melange that was horrifyingly like the watered down versions found in British supermarkets, which was most unlike desi khana as eaten in either restaurants or homes, but was probably, in its own way, delicious and totally edible. Her pronunciations of various dishes was funny to the Indian-acclimatised ear and the wary use of spices almost amusing in its caution. But she was indeed a delectable dish in herself, beaming fondly at her viewers through the camera and wiggling her ultra-feminine albeit billowy way through her kitchen into people’s homes. And if the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, she must have a lot of admirers!

She started with a Mughlai chicken recipe. There was a lot of browning and gentle cooking going on, which is a good thing where Mughlai is concerned, since it makes the meat tender and the spices thoroughly infused. After browning boned chicken thigh bits – she warned that it was the best for long cooking, since breast meat tends to get stringy if cooked long – she simmered them in a gravy/sauce/mixture, whatever you want to call it, of onions and almond paste and cream and yoghurt and various other additions. And then came the fatal ingredient, straight out of a small can – garam masala. A cautious tiny spoonful and that was it. It looked great but it was, even to spice-avoiding moi, blah.

From there, the seductive Ms Lawson moved on to a raita, which she cutely called a raa-ee-tah. She mixed yoghurt with salt and bits of spring onion and then threw in a healthy handful of pomegranate seeds, squeezing in some juice from the fruit as well. As far as my knowledge of Indian food goes, especially the Mughlai kind, that is not done. Be that as it may, maybe she liked it that way. Anyway, food is about creativity and innovation, right? And each to his or her own is the best route to follow. Ms Lawson followed her raaeetah up with a paneer mutter, where she did not go mutter mutter, but Mutter-ed, as in the german form for Mother, going mooter mooter. Yeah, I know, frivolity, but that was the mood by then and a consciously sexy woman smiling sideways at the camera always makes my fur bristle. Now that dish was yummy in execution and appearance, with fresh colours, delicate spicing (perfect for the sweet peas and mild paneer) and pretty presentation.

What stood out in this episode was the contrast to other cooks like Keith Floyd and Madhur Jaffrey. The former throws spices around with happy abandon, flinging in prodigious amounts of garam masala, pouring in huge amounts of turmeric powder and adding so much red chilli powder that my eyes start watering just watching it so many miles away and so many months after the filming actually happened. He makes a glorious mess and the food looks like an anonymous dark brown or deep red bowl of stuff that I always worry no one will or can eat. Madhur Jaffrey uses more green chillies in various forms than I have ever bought in all my life, and while her recipes tend to be more native and thus authentic, they are spicy to follow and to look at, making me wonder whether whoever eats that food takes off like a rocket the next morning! Ms Lawson’s cooking tends to be more casual, less prescriptive and more homely, as that wonderful word so often still used in matrimonial columns goes. And it looks good, with balanced colours and beautiful tableware.

I am not sure how much one can learn from watching Indian cuisine being made on television, especially if one is Indian and has a native instinct for food and its creation. But everything is a lesson of some kind, and everything has potential for exploration and adventure. If it is edible, it should be considered seriously, methinks. Even if it is more a deliberate conglomeration of adjectives designed to be a siren song to the average man's hormones than actual good food.