Ramadan

Unlike the creamy American dessert of the same name, puddings from Great Britain are dense and cakey. This small-scale version includes pureed dates and a splash of brandy; after baking, the puddings are coated with a delectable toffee glaze.

If you grew up eating tiny sandwiches made with date-nut bread and cream cheese—or even if you didn’t—you’ll appreciate the wonderful flavor combination of these tiny cupcakes. Crème fraîche is a rich and velvety update, and soft enough for dolloping on top of the spiced cakes. A little batter goes a long way when baked in mini muffin tins, but the cupcakes freeze well and thaw quickly, so you can serve some now and save the rest for later. Or, if you prefer, you can bake the batter in standard muffin tins for about thirty minutes; you’ll end up with about three dozen.

Lamb sausage spiked with pine nuts and raisins, masterful fare from Turkey found around the Mediterranean, is exactly right for a summer grill party. The figs and fennel practically insist on being combined into a marmalade to accompany the lusty sausage. It can also be used as a compote for pork or chicken dishes or as a topping for toast or scones. If you happen to have a fig tree, or know someone who does, use its leaves to wrap the sausage. They impart an aroma and flavor of cinnamon that greatly enhances the lamb and evokes the Garden of Eden, after the Fall.

These fruit-and-nut-rich cookies are like soft granola bars; they make a hearty and delicious after-school snack.

This dish comes straight from my mom, who made it nearly every Friday during Lent. It’s hearty and savory, and the rice and lentils together make it a perfect vegetarian protein. The burnt onion garnish is key; it adds depth and richness to the overall effect. Mom often served this with a rustic tomato, cucumber, and red onion salsa seasoned with lemon and mint, which lend acidity, texture, and fresh flavors to the plate.

There are as many varieties of dal (the nourishing lentil soup) as there are towns and villages in India. Our recipe is inspired by the one served at Kasa Indian Eatery, just down the street from the Market. It gets a dose of butter, which makes the soup incredibly rich in flavor, and pureeing half gives it extra creaminess. This recipe can easily be doubled.

As Cakebread Cellars expanded sales overseas, we began inviting chefs from abroad to participate in the Workshop. Predictably, some new and intriguing scents soon emerged from our kitchen. This warmly spiced lentil soup is Brian’s invention, but he devised it after working with Indian chef Sujan Mukherjee at the 2008 Workshop and observing his spicing. Now Brian makes this wholesome soup with the Napa elementary school students that he teaches regularly, and he demonstrates the recipe at our employees’ wellness classes.

This is a stew of carrots, spinach, and rice cooked, you might say, to death. I first ate it at a Turkish lunch counter and was taken by its depth of flavor. The whole is definitely greater than the sum of its parts.

If you like ayran (preceding recipe), the slightly savory yogurt drink of Turkey, you might try this, the even more unusual yogurt beverage of India. Like many beverages, it comes with a variety of health claims, but regardless of those, it’s refreshing and—obviously—protein packed. I have had this with a clove of garlic included and with so much black pepper—probably around 2 teaspoons for this quantity—that I was stunned. This version is relatively tame.

As is so often the case in Indian cooking, butter is the “secret” ingredient here, one that gives the chicken extra moisture and richness. The combination of that, mild spices, and grilling is what has made this dish so popular in the West. Serve with plain Paratha (page 559) and mint chutney, if you can.

This variation of Biryani (preceding recipe) is spicier, creamier, and somewhat more complicated. Go easy on the cayenne: this is meant to be a fragrant dish, not a fiery one. Serve with Dal (page 433) or any Indian-style vegetable.

When you open the lid of a pot containing good biryani—the Indian equivalent of arroz con pollo or paella—the smell should drive you wild: chicken (or lamb), butter, and spices should dominate, followed by the subtle aroma of basmati rice. When it’s prepared correctly, it seems to me, you can even smell the salt. This is one of India’s—indeed the world’s—great dishes, and yet too often in restaurants it is underwhelming, underspiced, and made without care. The spice mixture makes the dish exotic, but though it must be made carefully it isn’t difficult. (The chicken isn’t browned, which actually makes it easier than many similar preparations.) One key is to use real butter (in sufficient quantity; I’m sure the ultimate biryani has more butter than this version) and good spices: cardamom in the pod, whole cloves, cinnamon stick, and real saffron. Good coarse salt doesn’t hurt either and, needless to say, the better the chicken, the happier you’ll be when you bite into it. It’s also important to leave the lid on as much as possible. I’m not one of these people who believes that rice must be cooked undisturbed (on the contrary, I think it stands up to all kinds of abuse), but in this instance you want to make sure the chicken cooks fairly quickly and that as much of the aroma as possible remains in the pot. The goal, remember, is to smell everything. Serve with Dal (page 433) or any Indian-style vegetable.

You cannot make “authentic” tandoori chicken without a tandoor, the clay oven closely associated with Indian cooking and used to make many of that country’s wonderful breads. But you can replicate the seasonings and grill or broil it so that it becomes very similar to the original. It isn’t difficult, and it’s really rewarding. Most tandoori chicken gets its bright red color from food coloring, but some cooks use a mild chile powder or a healthy dose of paprika, and that’s what I do here. Nice with Tomato Salad with Ginger (page 173) or Panfried Spicy Potatoes with Eggplant (page 476). Equally good with Paratha (page 559) or even plain rice.

This tagine is similar to the preceding Chicken and Lentil Tagine but, with the addition of dates and vanilla, far more exotic. My version of this tagine may not compare with those that begin with toasting and grinding spices and peeling grapes, but it’s easily executed (especially since the chicken is not browned first, which spares the cook a fair amount of time and energy) and, I think, quite divine. Some things to look out for: First, work with dark meat chicken only. In Morocco, the breast might be propped up out of the way so it almost steams and remains moist, but this is impractical without a special pot (also called a tagine). Be aware that tagines are on the dry side, so don’t add liquid to the sauce unless it’s threatening to burn. Home-cooked chickpeas and fresh tomatoes are, of course, preferable to the canned varieties, but in this dish the differences are not marked. Do, however, use a vanilla bean. If all you have is vanilla extract, omit the vanilla entirely.

A tagine is the name of both a stew and the pot it’s served in. A North African specialty, it differs from other stews primarily in its sweet spicing. This one, featuring chicken, is bright yellow and alluring. Serve it with rice, warmed pitas, or crusty bread.

This is the recipe of my friend Vikram Vij, whose Vancouver restaurant, Vij’s, is among the best Indian restaurants in North America. Other cuts of meat you can use here: Beef tenderloin (filet mignon), cut into medallions. Pilaf (page 513), Dal (page 433), and other standard Indian accompaniments would do nicely here.

Boiled chicken may seem a thing of the past, but if the chicken is good to begin with, you don’t overcook it, and you serve it with this classic walnut sauce— sometimes called tarator or skordalia—it can be quite fabulous. Make the chicken and the sauce in advance if you like; both are good at room temperature. And, if you prefer, sauté the chicken and serve it with this sauce; see, for example, Chicken Escabeche (page 294) for the cooking technique. If you want to make the sauce without stock, see page 600. Walnut sauce, or tarator, is good not only with chicken but also with plain steamed vegetables— that’s what I’d serve with this, perhaps along with a rice or potato dish.

Like much of the food from the northern reaches of India (these are actually Kashmiri in origin), these fruit-stuffed meatballs have an exotic air about them. Serve with pilaf or one of the Indian breads on pages 559–565. Other meat you can use here: ground veal, pork, or beef.

One of the staples of the subcontinent, dal is not only daily fare but something to be relished with many meals. Serve this with Basic Long-Grain Rice (page 506) or any pilaf (pages 513–514). If you have the time (and forethought) to soak the lentils, they’ll cook more quickly, but it is far from necessary. Other legumes you can prepare this way: chickpeas (far longer cooking time), red beans.

One of the best vegetarian dishes of India, the chickpea dumpling is the equal of those made of meat without mimicking them, and the yogurt sauce is creamy and delicious. Some people soak the chickpea dumplings in water after frying them, which gives them a lovely and delicate texture; others leave them crisp, adding them to the sauce at the last minute. The choice is yours; I enjoy the crisp version more but happily eat and make both. You can buy chickpea flour and hing (asafetida, page 10) at any store selling Indian ingredients and at many Middle Eastern stores as well. One word about the preparation: Skilled cooks can make the sauce first, then the dumplings, or mix the dumpling batter, then turn to the sauce, then fry the dumplings while the sauce is simmering. The level of activity required to do this is somewhat frenetic, but if you are comfortable with kitchen multitasking, it will work out.

It took me a long time to figure out what was in this mysteriously flavored concoction, and even then I had to ask my host (who was from Kashmir, where this is common) what was going on here. The apples and eggplant complement each other perfectly, to the point where each loses a bit of its identity and gains something unusual. Serve this as a side dish any time you like, not just with Indian food.

One of the most popular dishes in Parsi (Zoroastrian) cuisine and wonderful with basmati (or brown) rice, this is traditionally made with pomfret, a fish that is not always readily available here. Use pompano, if you can find it, or any fillets, from mackerel to sole. You can prepare the banana leaf packages up to 3 hours in advance—just cover and refrigerate until ready to cook.

An unusual combination of textures and flavors, but—like the eggplant and apple mixture on page 458—one that really works. Serve in combination with other Indian dishes or as an unusual side dish with Western food. Other vegetables you can prepare this way: for the eggplant, substitute cauliflower or thick slices of red or yellow bell pepper or a combination.

Back in the days when I tackled such challenging projects, I made my own paneer, the fresh cheese that is integral to this dish of spicy spinach. Although you can buy paneer at markets specializing in Indian ingredients (and you can find these in almost every city), there is a superb substitute, and it’s sold everywhere: tofu. Like paneer, tofu is a fresh, quickly made cheese; it just happens to have a soy base rather than a cow’s milk base. But both are supremely bland, tender, and delicate. The curry powder used here should not be especially fiery or laden with black pepper, but on the sweet side, containing spices like nutmeg, cardamom, and cinnamon. (If you’re making your own, you’ll find a recipe on page 593; if you’re buying, just try to avoid mixes labeled hot.)