Be warned, some of that attitude lies buried in this diary. I'm not that serious about it, my own cooking style is far from pure and purism is a flawed concept when applied to a cuisine composed of such diverse influences. All the same, there is a strong tendency in Western Europe at least to fundamentally misunderstand South Asian cuisine (not just sub-continent food, but also Thai to a degree.) The modern European conception thinks a lot about clean, relatively simple combinations. Tragically in my view, this means that a lot of "premium" establishments serving Asian food either concentrate on the various dishes that fit this approach naturally or to take other dishes and strip them down rather forcibly.

I appreciate that there is some value to this kind of minimalism, but for me the essence of Indian cuisine is the construction of a dish through the mingling and interaction of flavours. It is not (for example) about a dish celebrating the delicate flavour of a good batch of fennel, it's a glorious interaction between that flavour and a number of others, selected to create a large and harmonious effect. (If I am to really exaggerate, it's the difference between a string quartet and a full orchestra.)

As I've noted India is quite a large place and the cuisine varies with both terrain and latitude. My main cooking influences have been family ones (centred on Bengal in the East) and experiments to replicate food encountered in the homes of friends and in restaurants, spanning all over the country.

One day, I hope to have the time to really write a nice diary with a taxonomy and history of Indian cuisine, but for now we'll make some sweeping generalisations. Some of the big trends in the cuisine come out of the prevailing climate. Thus, milky/creamy dishes are mostly found in the North, whilst as you go further South (or towards more desert areas) the dishes become more oil-based, often "hotter" and as you really get into the South, coconut forms an increasing part of the cuisine.

Now, as you may have gathered, I'm a great proponent of Indian cuisine as the construction of a meal out of the blending of multiple flavours. The spine of this diary is an introduction to various flavour components, as for me that is the key. I could throw a bunch of my recipes at you or dig some out of the excellent books that exist. But I'd rather try to communicate a feeling for the spices and approaches as that really sets the scene for actual cooking!

Fats

The base flavour of any food comes out of the cooking method. Now a lot of nice food comes out of the "tandoor," a clay oven, but I don't have one of those at home, so for now we'll concentrate on the fats.

In the village of my Indian grandparents fat means Mustard oil. Full on mustard oil is however, pretty much an acquired taste, so I tend to stick with sunflower or light vegetable oil except when cooking for family. (When I am cooking Bengal style for others, I fry a lot of mustard seeds in the oil to give it some hint of the right flavour.) Mustard oil is in fact thicker than most sunflower oils, probably closer to a heavier olive oil... but I personally prefer not to have my curry taste of olive oil except when absolutely necessary. That's probably one of my little evil purisms. Olive oil has a very distinctive flavour that is a lot more vegetal than the typical oils of India and I don't really like to taste that in my Indian food. I would guess that most Indian restaurants in Europe use blended vegetable oil when using oil because it is the cheapest and fairly reliably neutral in flavour.

Two other common cooking fats are ghee (clarified butter) and coconut oil. Ghee makes incredibly satisfying but very heavy dishes, very creamy and savoury in texture. It shows up a lot in Northern dishes. However, I find it a little rich for "normal food" (it really makes you thirsty too) it does smell a bit in the raw state and just like lard it has a real talent for getting everywhere. Hence, I tend to avoid it except on special occasions. Coconut oil and coconut butter are often used in Southern dishes either alone, or in combination with cheaper oil. It is good, naturally enough, when you're looking for that coconut flavour, but it can overpower in other dishes, so care is recommended.

On to the fun bit:  Spices!

I've tried to list them in a rough order of "kind of essential" down to things I use more rarely. These priorities obviously reflect the way I cook. I've listed more than one name in places, starting with the name I use (usually derived from English or Bengali) and then a French or German name where it helps with identification. (Sorry for not including more languages, but I got lazy.)

The Very Basics (When these are missing, give up and cook something else!)

Chilli

Of course, Chilli could take a whole diary by itself, but we'll try to strip it down to essentials. The first confusion I've found when buying this spice is between Capsicum annuum and other varieties of Capsicum. This occurs not so much in the raw state, but when looking at powders. "Paprika" is generally derived from what are known in English as "Bell Peppers." (other names: Paprika de Hongrie, Piment doux (d'Espagne.)

The basic flavour difference is not really so great, the key point is that "Paprika" and "Bell Peppers" are just usually on a different order of heat. (There is of course variation within each category, but this is a general division.) Of course, "heat" is not just "heat," it is the product of chemicals and thus carries flavour with it, so the flavours are not exactly the same, but it's very rare that I would use "paprika" as a spice. (As a vegetable is a different matter.) So, for now we'll concentrate on chilli, which usually come from the varieties pubescens, baccatum , chinense, frutescens. It's worth noting that I don't buy by variety, just by look and smell, so it's not something to obsess over. Chilli comes into my cooking in two forms, fresh and powdered:

Powder is basically just incredibly convenient. You keep it in a big jar and it's always there when you need it. It also tends to have a slightly different flavour, perhaps more savoury, a little less acidic. On the other hand, the production process naturally results in the loss of some flavour. Now, you can cook Indian food without chilli or just with mild paprika, but the question has to be: Why would you want to?

Chilli of course has a subtle flavour, combined with the famous capsaicin kick. The subtle flavour is critical to a number of recipes and the kick can usually be modulated for the audience involved. Buying fresh chillies tends to be a bit of pot luck, due to natural variation. Large fleshy ones (often imported from Kenya in UK shops) tend to be milder than small, thin ones of Indian origin. Red is usually a bit hotter than equivalent green and dried red ones are often to be treated with caution. (Of course on any given day you can end up with a surprise batch, I usually taste them before buying where possible.)

Fresh chillies are usually chopped and can be added either at a frying or simmering stage. Adding to the frying oil usually spreads the flavour more evenly through the dish (and makes a more harmonious flavour.) Of course, if you're looking to make a fiercer or more surprising impact, chop them up and add them at the last minute, to lurk like small land mines in the dish...

Turmeric (Haldi, Curcuma, Safran des Indes)

Fresh leaves are sometimes present in Indonesian cuisine, but in Indian cooking this spice mostly exists as a yellow powder made from the rhizome. What I've been known to call "Make it yellow powder" will forever stain a wooden spoon (not to mention shirt, tablecloth, etc, so be aware before you get into trouble with a fastidious kitchen partner.

The most obvious use of turmeric is to bring yellow into the dish. However, it has an important flavour role too. It needs to be used with care because it is bitter. Used in the correct amount it adds balance to any spicy dish both through the bitter element and a certain earthiness. Too much gives everything a bitter aftertaste and can lead to upset stomachs. It is sometimes possible get fresh root and grind it, but this is rare.

Dhaniya (Coriander)

Coriander is a really aromatic spice. It touches the nose almost before anything else. The seeds (sometimes called fruit) have a warming tone with a touch of citrus, and the ground seed powder gives brings warmth, body and a note of fresh spice to a curry. The powder is also commonly used to help thicken up sauces. The fresh leaves (often called cilantro in the Americas) have a green, tangy flavour which has been known to divide people strongly; whilst some hate it, others love it. It can have a bitter edge, especially if it is not carefully combined in a dish. I like it and find that it can really freshen and lift a dish if the leaves are thrown in and mixed gently though just before serving. It's important to note that disliking the fresh leaves is no indicator of not liking the use of seeds and powder.

Jeera (Cumin, Kreuzkümmel)

This is the quintessential curry spice. All over the world you will encounter ordinary, banal and disappointing items marked with "curry flavour." Sometimes, if you're lucky there might be a bit of chilli in there, in some places there will be garlic, but nine times out of ten it just means they dumped half a ton(ne) of jeera in. The seeds can be dry roasted or fried or ground to powder. I would describe jeera as the flavour of contentment, which is probably why it features so often, not only in "faux curries" but also dishes from all over India.

Now, as I have said, these are the absolute minimum and every now and then they are all I use, along with a variety of ingredients. They form a great starting point and if you're just starting out, cooking with them can give you insight in how the flavours can come together.

Mixes

But earlier I was banging on about "a symphony of flavours" so we clearly need to investigate further. I'd like to introduce here a couple of spice mixes. I'll keep it to two, one that is ubiquitous and another that is more local to my heritage.

The first and ubiquitous one is Garam Masala (which means "hot mixture".) There are probably as many recipes for this mix as there are Indian grandmothers, so don't be surprised if you are familiar with a different version.

Garam Masala (Quantities are very rough)

30     Cardamom Pods
15        Cloves
4     Pieces  Nutmeg
4     Pieces  Cinnamon
2     Pieces  Ginger (to taste)
2     Small Bay Leaves
5     Tbsp      Whole Jeera (cumin seeds)
2       Tbsp      Whole Dhaniya (coriander seeds)
1       Tbsp      Whole Saunf (fennel seeds)
1      Tsp      Black Pepper  
1/2       Tsp      Methi (fenugreek seeds)

Roast the jeera, dhaniya and saunf, then throw everything together and grind it up. The jeera, dhaniya, black pepper and bay leaves are considered the base flavours, whilst the others add notes of sweet and aromatic tone. Garam Masala can be used as a base ingredient or sprinkled on after cooking.

This recipe highlights some other spices, so let's take a look at them:

Methi (Fenugreek, Bockshornklee)

This is another bitter aromatic and can be used in seed or leaf form. The leaves are particularly well known from Iranian cooking and unsurprisingly show up most in Northern Indian cuisine. I generally only keep seeds in the cupboard and they find a use not only in this mix, but also the next one, however the flavour is not greatly different in each form. The bitter element needs using with care, but can provide important balancing qualities to the dish. I always find it hard to describe the flavour in detail, but it definitely adds something important.

Mouri/Saunf (Fennel seeds, Fenouil, Fenchel)

In contrast with some European usage, which emphasises the plant, here the seeds (or fruit) are the main ingredient. Saunf is a sweet aromatic, with overtones of anise or liquorice, although toasting gives it a more savoury, spicier tone. The aromatic element makes it able to penetrate through other strong flavours and many people use it with dark meat for that reason.

Ginger (Gingembre, Ingwer)

Generally used as grated or sliced root, sometimes fried, sometimes barely cooked and sometimes raw as a garnish. Ginger has a refreshing aroma, which some connect with lemon and a strong, warm flavour. Care is needed to avoid overpowering other elements particularly since cooking increases pungency relative to the raw ingredient. However, it is often fried together with garlic and onion in Northern dishes, which changes the flavour dramatically towards a milder, richer taste.

Cardamom (Green)

When I say "Cardamom" I refer to the green variety. "Black Cardamom" is subtly different and a less powerful spice, which I won't explore in detail here. Green Cardamom is sweet and aromatic with a popular reputation across much of the world (and often classed as the third "premium spice" after vanilla and saffron.) The sheer fragrance and sweetness make it a staple of luxurious rice dishes and sweet, milky meat dished from the North of India. In the South it is often combined with coconut. This is another one where I find the flavour rather difficult to describe, but there are hints of eucalyptus or camphor and the pods add a woody tone.

Bay Leaves (Laurier des Indes, Indisches Lorbeerblatt)

Indian Bay Leaf is actually a different plant to the Mediterranean
Laurel which is also commonly labelled as a Bay Leaf in some parts of Europe. The Indian Bay Leaf is from a tree related to the cinnamon and is sweeter and more aromatic so it is advisable to throw in a little extra cinnamon when making do with the Laurel bay leaves.

"Curry Leaves" (Barsunga)

Since we're on the topic of leaves, a few words on this particular ingredient is perhaps appropriate. The origin of the word curry comes from the gentle and aromatic leaves
of the curry tree. The problem is, they lose almost all flavour once they dry out and they are mostly grown in the Indian region. Hence, I don't use them much. They are worth experimenting with if you get hold of some, but beware; some unscrupulous vendors stick any old leaves in a bag (typically some laurel and cinnamon leaves jumbled up.) If they throw in some other things it doesn't always taste good, and will not bring the subtle complexity of the real thing.

The next four components are I assume more familiar to European readers, so I'll pass lightly over them:

Cinnamon (Canelle, Zimt)

There are of course, a number of varieties of cinnamon, and the preferred option for Indian cooking is to use the "Ceylon" variety rather than others. When compared it is felt to be more "lively" than the Vietnamese or Indonesian varieties. The Chinese variety (cassia) is also the dominant variety on sale in the Americas and is felt to be coarser and having more bitter and astringent tones. Of course, in the end, we all use what is available, but if you have the choice, the sweeter varieties are more appropriate. It is common in India to not only use the powder, but also to fry whole pieces in hot oil until they unroll.

Nutmeg (Jaiphal, Noix de muscade, Muskatnuss)

Probably most known in the West as an ingredient in Béchamel sauce, nutmeg is aromatic and warm in flavour. The usual procedure is to grate the whole nut to produce a powder for use. In common with some other aromatics mentioned so far it is considered especially suitable for milder meat dishes.

Cloves (Clou de girofle, Nelke)

Strongly aromatic with a fiery and burning taste, cloves are often chewed in India to freshen the breath. The strength of cloves makes them a natural counterpart to heavy meats and other robust flavours (similar to some usage in Europe it seems.)

Black Pepper

I mention this just for completeness. Pepper is perhaps the most ubiquitous spice in Europe. As with chilli, care must be exercised as pepper is quite pungent and too much can upset an inexperienced eater. The strength lends itself to robust ingredients, including meats and cabbage.

Now, the other mix I'd like to mention is the one that runs through my family's cooking. My father comes from Bengal and the traditional mix there is "Five Spice" or Panch Phoron:

Bengali Five Spice, equal quantities of:

Kalonji (Nigella)
Methi (Fenugreek)
Saunf (Fennel seeds)
Jeera (Cumin seeds)
Radhuni / Black Mustard Seed

The Five Spice is a mixture of whole spices. The mix is traditionally fried in oil before use, both because it alters the flavour and to impart the flavour into the oil to be used for cooking. The flavour itself is subtle and harmonious, particularly suited to vegetable dishes. Radhuni is very difficult to get outside of Bengal so Black
Mustard Seed is often used, particularly because normally in Bengal Five Spice is used with Mustard Oil, so the use of the Mustard seeds can compensate for a more neutral oil.

The mixes highlight a few more spices:

Black Mustard Seed

The seeds can be fried in oil to release some flavour, or I sometimes grind them to create a powder similar to the white mustard powder of Western mustard paste. It's not traditional to grind them, but I find throwing a bit of the powder form can improve the warming feeling of a dish, particularly in combination with mushrooms or paneer. The traditional way is to use the seeds, fried in oil until they go grey. This produces a very particular (and quite subtle) nutty flavour, as well as some warmth.

Kalonji (Nigella)

These seeds are most often used fried or toasted to bring a slightly bitter, smoky flavour. They are thought to complement vegetables more than other ingredients and Brinjal (aubergine) in particular.

Now one more twist that first came to me from Bengal, but is in fact present in little spots all over India is the relationship with those staples, onion and garlic. In the area of Bengal I am used to, they (for various reasons) don't hold with the use of garlic or onion. As a result, Asafoetida powder is quite popular for some dishes.

Asafoetida (Hing)

The smell of the originating plant is widely known to be unpleasant, thus cooking uses a derived powder. This powder should be used with care, it is rather strongly flavoured and the resin is even stronger. It is prized, like garlic, for anti-flatulent properties but it also has some of that "savoury" essence that is common to garlic and onion. It is commonly seen as a spice for vegetable dishes, but I think it is worth experimenting with in many things.

Garlic and onions are, I imagine, familiar to most readers of this piece and so I won't dwell on the. I would comment that they have a very strong flavour and if used, other spicing may need to be upped to compensate. It's common in various dishes, but it can be abused. Like anything this strong, it is frequently used in certain restaurants to cover up the absence of the regular chef, or a mistake. (Pow! add enough garlic and they won't notice.)

Saffron

No discussion of savoury spice would be complete without the most famously expensive spice, Saffron. It is intensely fragrant, one of the most powerful spices in fragrance per weight, as it were. Soaked in water it produces a yellow-orange colour which is considered very useful in presentation. The fragrant flavour does have a slightly bitter edge. Indian usage focuses on rice dishes (notably biryani) and various desserts.

The layering of flavours is of course not just a function of the spices used, but also the main "food" ingredients. For now, rather than attempt to take on that enormous subject, I'll wrap up with a simple little recipe to demonstrate something in action. Of course, the only trouble is, I don't really write recipes, so the quantities are unlikely to be helpful, but at least it gives a framework for the dish.

Cauliflower Curry
=====

Ingredients:
------------
1 medium to large cauliflower
Vegetable oil
Roughly 2cm Cubed potatoes (Maybe two large potatoes.)
Peas
2 tsp ground Jeera
3 tsp ground Dhaniya
1 tsp salt
3 tsp Five Spice
0.5 tsp Turmeric
1.5 tsp Chilli powder

Directions:
-----------

1. Cut the cauliflower up into reasonable florets (should fit on a fork and be able to be pushed in a greedy mouth, but not smaller.) Fry cauliflower in oil, stirring continuously until slightly brown.  Remove from oil.
   
2. Add Five Spice to the oil, and then fry cubed potatoes. As the potatoes approach cooked through (preferably before being much browned, throw in the peas, enough to add some green to the dish, but not so much that it becomes pea curry. Stir the peas around the pan a few times.
   
3. Add the powdered spices.
   
4. Add a little water, cover & cook for 5 minutes.
   
5. Add cauliflower (stir well).
   
6. Cook for a few more minutes, until all ingredients (particularly the potato and cauliflower) are appropriately soft and the flavours have mingled nicely.
   
7. Serve and eat.