Motu Indian Kitchen - Delivery

The Sethi Family are on a massive roll. Michelin-starred Trishna and Gymkhana, both on the high end of the Indian restaurant scale, are absolutely smashing it. If you haven't tried that wild muntjac biriyani served at the latter, get down there quick-smart.

Then they took the old Koya site and in its place opened Hoppers, a Sri Lankan casual restaurant that has seen 2 hour long queues from day 1. The only time I've eaten there it was gone 10pm, I'd whiled away the queue time in the company of margaritas and I don't remember a thing. Not their fault.

They invested in Bao, helping them open their first Soho site and consequently the larger Fitzrovia joint. So it's safe to say they know their stuff.

When they announced Motu Indian Kitchen, a delivery-only outlet in Camberwell (and Battersea, and now in Canary Wharf), I fizzed with excitement. My ends! Delivery! From the comfort of my own home! Right away I got myself as drunk as possible so as to be incapacitated the next day, to be able to justify ordering a takeaway. That's how it works in my house.

Kashmiri lamb shank rogan josh arrived whole, on the bone, resplendent and bathed in sauce, slivered ginger on top for fresh zing. Fluffy naan bread to mop, and a side combo of aubergine masala, tadka dal and samosa chat. God that was good; the samosa came nestled in a fresh, herbal green sauce and shaved coconut. The dal was soothing to the spicy, creamy aubergine masala. More bread mopping. That lamb shank though, a bit one-note. Not much depth too it. And, oh - £20.50 total for the order is a bit punchy.

All in all, not bad, an impressive spread, if a little underwhelmed with the shank. Then I got an email from the PR offering me some credit to try it out - woo! More to try. This time I went for the 'feast box for 1' - "from £16.00" at the time, and you had more prices to add on dependent on which option you went for for the main - which meant you were hitting around £21 for the feast box. They seem to have done away with this now, so it is just a straight-up £16, far better value. It includes kachumber raita, mango chutney, poppadoms, naan, pilau rice and you main of choice. Saves you fannying around trying to decide what to add (though my previous local threw in poppadoms & chutneys gratis). I added the grilled seekh kebab too, because why not. It is a TERRIBLE picture. Soz.

It's quite the feast, and I was properly stuffed. The chicken tikka masala was rich and smooth - not my usual order, but one I enjoyed. I was a little put out that there was only a few pieces of chicken, but that was more in aesthetic in a large, shallow bowl than desire for more. Fluffy rice and a well-spiced kebab made me happy.

It happened again. It had sort of turned into a Sunday ritual now. A feast box jumped into my order, along with 6 tandoori chicken wings and that spicy-ass aubergine masala again, and this time, lamb biriyani. Well spiced, fluffy rice with generous chunks of slow-cooked lamb, garnished with a little mint on top, especially good with the kachumber raita. Holy shit I spent £32 on a takeaway! I justified this that it fed me a further two lunches, but £32!

So having had 3 takeaways from Motu (one of which the PR paid the £25 for) I can safely say it's a very delicious meal made using high quality ingredients. This isn't your typical takeaway with a film of ghee / oil floating around. And thank GOD they've stopped calling them 'cuzzas' on their online menu, and otherwise I really like their branding - slick. But, for the money which is not inconsiderable, Rajah Rowing Team pip it for me, especially as they have a wider menu selection. Their prawn puri is the stuff of dreams. But we're in a very privileged position to have two very fine contenders.

Order via Deliveroo only. 

Roti King (Revisited), Euston

I wrote about Roti King a couple of years ago, when it was on the Charing Cross Road. I only went once, and I am a total fool. It was so convenient to my office, and I only went once! Those were the days when word hadn't quite got out yet about Mr Roti King, and you could swan on in there, have a sit and eat some freaking delicious roti. 

Not so now. 

Admittedly, we did visit on a Friday night, right at prime time, and we did go as a group of 5 when the restaurant sits 30 at most. We queued for at least an hour, watching the guy slap his rotis out, folding them up and cooking them on a hot flat griddle next to him. The result? All our clothes absolutely honked. But no matter, as we had wine to slurp our way through (it's BYOB). The waitress, weaving in and out of everyone, delivering orders to the tables must have a patience of a saint.

The roti (opening pic) is so, so good. Cooked freshly to order, it's hot and flaky. We peeled off pieces to dip in both lamb and chicken curries. The murtabak (the roti is spread with egg, folded and cooked so it is stuffed) came with a dhal that was pleasantly spicier than expected too. Char kway teow had the appropriate smokiness from the wok, and enough prawns to please the table. I asked the chap on the table next to us how his Laksa was, and he looked pretty ambivalent about it. Further reports have been favourable though, so I'll just have to return. Soon.

Nasi lemak could have done with fresher coconut rice, but it was still pretty good. To be honest, we all had eyes for the roti and not much else. 

Yup, that there is a roti cone, drizzled with chocolate syrup. A nice, sweet ending to proceedings, though the roti stuffed with banana is infinitely more satisfying. 

(I have a recipe for banana roti, Thai style, drizzled with condensed milk in my book, Chinatown Kitchen... it's out on 2nd April plug plug plug) 

At £15 per head, it's stupidly good value. I can't wait to return, already. 

Roti King 
40 Doric Way,
London NW1 1LH

The Chilli Pickle, Brighton

I've just spent the past weekend in Brighton, enjoying the glorious last rays of summer. We went to celebrate my birthday (AHEM IT'S TODAY!) and as anyone who knows me might be able to tell you, I rarely go anywhere without planning somewhere decent to eat. With 8 people on a Friday night after a long week at work, I wasn't about to leave it up to spontaneity or chance. That way lies hanger. 

The Chilli Pickle sits in a square opposite Wagamama and Pizza Express which doesn't bode enormously well, and once inside it's dark and noisy, lit with neon. But the smell inside is enticing and we sat down beside shelves of tiffin boxes and jars of pickle, of which they're famous for. The menu is large (this online one is out of date), made even larger by a separate set menu sheet and the drinks list is even larger, listing beers from India, America and Germany, as well as our own home-grown. We snacked on poppadoms and an excellent range of pickles while we decided what to order. Namkeen chaat were salt crackers topped with a tomato relish, strong and spicy in ginger. Messy to eat, they were palate-cleansing and punchy. 

We decided to order a bunch of things to share, which I immediately regretted upon tasting this corn on the cob. They were seriously good; steamed and coated with a little chilli sauce and crushed peanuts. The dish of yellow sauce you see at the back there was coconutty and creamy, and when we asked, were told it's like a korma but without the nuts. We poured that stuff directly into our mouths. 

'Manchurian' is a style of Chinese cooking adapted to Indian tastes, so basically deep fried and tossed in a sweet and sour but spiced sauce. In this case it was applied to the blandest of vegetables - the cauliflower. Underneath the crisp casing was merely matter to fill, and the pink yoghurt dip reminded me of strawberry Yazoo. Not that it tasted of much, mind you. I left this one to the group. 

We were back on track with the Chennai skate fry. The piece of skate wing was dusted in spiced, seasoned flour and fried until crisp, so that when you pulled the flesh back from the cartilage you get both soft meat and a crisp contrast. I loved this, especially slathered with the coconut sambal and chased with the tomato and grapefruit salad. Luckily so, as another two portions turned up by mistake.

I love dumplings, so I had to order the Nepalese pork momos, even though they seemed incongruous on a menu like this. They were quite thick skinned, the filling bland, but helped along by the tomato sambal and a fruity sauce flavoured with apple. 

It soon became clear that the mains at The Chilli Pickle aren't intended to be shared. Each of them arrived on its own tray, with all the requirements of a complete meal around it, which struck me as a slight shame, since what I love most about Indian food is a selection of dishes. In particular the oxtail madras; while it was well spiced, with great flavour from the gravy - which would also explain why it is their permanent 'special' - it is also incredibly rich, and after a mouthful or two we'd pass the dish down. The chunks of oxtail meat pulled away from the bone easily, but for a dish with three chillis which was the maximum heat rating, it lacked punch.

I loved the Mysore malasa dosa. A large thin pancake made with rice flour is wrapped around potato curry, mild and creamy, scented with curry leaves. The accompanying vegetable curry had chunks of courgette in, and the red coconut sambal had a bit of a kick to it. 

The chicken tandoori platter lacked the charcoal whiff of the tandoor, but made up for it with a very herby chicken keema kebab, scented with cardamom. The naan beneath it soaked up all the chicken juices, and was perfect for dipping in the buttery black dhal. There's that tomato salad again. 

Tandoori lamb chops were tender and succulent, though they'd need a stronger hand with the spicing, and much crisper and abundant fat to give Tayyabs a run for their money. I really liked the green chilli and mint chutney that came with it, and the lurid pink beetroot raita was soothing, yet surprisingly spicy. I have no idea what the round puck was - it didn't look particularly appealing, and instead I got on with dipping our extra garlic naan in the dhal of the day, a yellow lentil tarka. 

So, a meal of ups and downs, but mostly ups. I like that the menu ranges widely from very obvious South Indian style, touching upon Gujarati, and a brief pause in Nepalese. It did make it a bit awkward when our visibly uncomfortable waitress couldn't tell us what the difference between kesar, pasanda and rajput gravy were, nor could she explain much else on the menu. Our numerous grievances with the service, such as more beers than we'd ordered turning up, our poppadom order doubled, and a starter tripled were put down to the training status of our waitress, so it seems mean to call them up on it, but I wonder about the wisdom of assigning a server in training to a table of 8, with a potentially complicated order on a busy Friday night. Maybe I'm mean. There's obvious skill in the kitchen though and with plenty of booze and more food than we could fit in, we paid £32 each including service.

The Chilli Pickle

17 Jubilee Street
Brighton
BN1 1GE

Ganapati Takeaway

You'll have to excuse the incredibly shit picture. It was Sunday night and I was trying to shovel my takeaway into my face as rapidly as possible. But the reason I'm sharing this with you is because South Indian Peckham stalwart, Ganapati, has opened a little takeaway shop and lo, they deliver. Happy, happy days. 

The biriyani special (chicken, that time) comes with poppadums, dal, raita and pickle. It's humungous - we ordered this and some samosas and that was the two of us sorted for a mere £18. I'm sad that the excellent curd rice isn't on the takeaway menu though. I'm baffled that takeaway poppodums and pickles are 30p more expensive than eat in. But, no matter, because Ganapati is bloody excellent.

Delivery to the following postcodes: SE1 . SE4 . SE5 . SE8 (part) . SE11 . SE14, SE15 . SE16 (part) . SE21 ., SE22 . SE23, SE24 . SW2 (part) . SW8 . SW9

The menu is here. 
0207 642 5566 

Sagar Vegetarian, Fitzrovia

It was Day 2. Friday night, we'd had some ciders (Stowford Press is vegan, hooray!) and we needed to eat. Normally, a curry you'd think would be quite safe - just have the vegetable curries and hold the yoghurt, right? Except they may have been cooked in ghee. It's a minefield. Happily though, Sagar Vegetarian, a South Indian restaurant with 3 branches around London is vegan-friendly and we headed there for some much needed sustenance. I was feeling weak and light-headed. 

The menu is vast and informative, with wheat free, nut free, onion and garlic free menus available online. The 8 of us ordered a mish-mash of dishes and hoped for the best. On the waiter's advice, a couple of dosas (opening picture) were ordered and they were a golden pancake stuffed with potatoes and onions. The pancake was crispy, the potatoey innards creamy in texture and spiced. Creamy! Oh joy. A thin curry sauce was surprisingly spicy, and the red coconut sambal tempered it somewhat. Kancheepuram Idli (above) was a steamed rice and lentil patty, again with the red coconut chutney and the curry sauce. Surprisingly light, this was a hit with the table, especially with the green spicy coconut.

Pani Puri, from the Bombay Chowpatti Special section, were DIY. Crispy hollow spheres were served with a thin sour broth with chickpeas - you poke a hole into them, fill it with chickpeas and a little of that broth and then pop it in your mouth whole to burst like a balloon. They were a nice little mouthful. Sev puri, as above but topped with onions and garlic and a yoghurt sauce were hoovered up quick smart by those still able to eat dairy.

Okra, aubergine and chick pea masalas were also ordered to go with some garlic rice and were deftly scooped up by puffy pooris (below). Onion and chilli uthappam was described as a 'rice and lentil pizza' but it was more like a flatbread, and our waiter warned us it would be spicy; indeed, with all of the dishes they didn't hold back with the spicing, and we were pleased for it. Brows became a little clammy and sniffles were heard around the table.

Washed down with a couple of beers and a few bottles of wine, we ate handsomely for £22 a head. All of the table claimed they didn't miss the meat and I agree; it was tasty stuff, and we didn't have to go through the awkwardness of "er, is this... vegan?" Post vegan-madness, I'll still be going back. Maybe this veganism thing isn't so bad after all. (I dreamt of feta cheese last night.)

Sagar Vegetarian
17A Percy Street
London W1T 1DU

Tel: 020 7631 3319

Thai Red Prawn & Pineapple Curry

I'm becoming more receptive to this savoury and sweet business, the fruit with meat jazz. It just seems to make sense now - all about a question of balance. Although I didn't love the place, I was most recently impressed by the grilled peach accompaniment to my smoked eel at 10 Greek Street and it got me thinking about classic fish and fruit combinations. 

One that crops up repeatedly, especially in Thai cookery, is prawns with pineapple. I remember quite vividly as a kid being very excited that the prawn fried rice we'd get would be served in a hollowed out half of a pineapple. My dad would roll his eyes. This red curry has the essential savoury element of the fish sauce to balance out the sweetness of the pineapple. Simmered in spicy coconut gravy and packed full of vegetables, it's one of the most pleasing curries I've made.

Thai Red Prawn and Pineapple Curry

Serves 4

For the Paste:
10 shallots
20 dried red chillis, soaked in boiling water until soft and drained
2 stalks of lemongrass, tender part only
6 cloves of garlic
3 inch piece of galangal
3 kaffir lime leaves
1/2 tsp turmeric
1 tsp ground coriander
1 tsp white pepper
3 tbsp fish sauce
1 tsp shrimp paste
1 tbsp palm sugar 

25 large tail-on prawns (I use frozen raw ones, thawed from the Chinese supermarket)
A handful each of sugarsnap peas, baby sweetcorn and cherry tomatoes
1 tin of coconut milk
3 kaffir lime leaves
1 red pepper, sliced finely
1 tin of pineapple, or 1/4 fresh pineapple chopped into bite-sized chunks
1 handful of coriander, chopped roughly
1 lime
fish sauce (to taste)

Whizz up the paste ingredients in a small blender. Fry 3 tbsp in oil slowly for 10 mins and add the kaffir lime leaves. Add the coconut milk and simmer for 15 - 20 minutes. 

Add the slices of pepper and the baby sweetcorn and simmer for 5 minutes. Add the cherry tomatoes and simmer for a few minutes more. Throw in the sugarsnap peas, pineapple and the prawns and simmer for another three minutes (until the prawns have gone pink). Season with fish sauce (I like quite a lot) and serve with a handful of chopped coriander over rice and lime wedges. 

Irene's Peranakan Recipes

In the same part of the cookbook series as Uncle Lau's Teochew Recipes, Irene's Peranakan Recipes have the same simple style and layout. Peranakan refers to the descendants of the late 15th & 16th century Chinese immigrants who settled in Malaysia and Indonesia  Now, normally I'd object to quotes like: "Girls have to do girls' things", being the raging bra-burning feminist that I am, but the picture of Irene herself at the stove with big glasses and 70s hair, as well as her charmingly honest history was enough to tame me.  
  
It was one Sunday and a group of my friends, obsessed with South East Asian food, decided to get together for a British version of a potluck, also known as the Pie Out. It was the perfect opportunity to try out this new cookbook. It's not the easiest cookbook to navigate as the contents page lists the Peranakan name of the dishes, but it's a fascinating flick through. 

Fish curry was well spiced with a tangy hit. The gelatinous quality of the sauce was made by the addition of lots of sliced okra. 

With plenty of spicy, creamy curries (including the chicken rendang in the opening picture), a simple cleansing cucumber salad was ideal to cool mouths, even if it did have some chilli in it. 

One of the dishes I made was braised green beans with prawns in spicy coconut milk. Pretty straightforward to make, the shrimp paste used to stir-fry the spice mixture gave it a deep savoury flavour that only shrimp paste makes. 

My favourite accompaniment of the dishes though was pickled pineapple. Chunks of pineapple are cooked until soft with salt, sugar, chilli and cinnamon (or cassia bark in my case) and then served at room temperature. It was the perfect acidic foil for the richness of the meal.

Pickled Pineapple

Serves 6 with other dishes 

1 small pineapple; cored, skinned and chopped into bite sized chunks

2 large red chillis, deseeded and chopped

2 tsp sugar

1/2 tbsp salt

1 6inch stick of cinnamon, or cassia bark

2 cloves

In a pan, heat up the pineapple with everything else gently. No need to add any liquid. Cook gently for 20 minutes until tender. Place in a bowl to cool and serve with creamy, rich curries at room temperature or cold.

Contact Epigram for a copy of the book here. 

Malaysian Fish Head Curry

It's a bit gnarly, this dish. I am fully expecting a lot of you to recoil in horror, and some "bleurgh!"s bursting from you as you read this. Fish heads aren't that scary, really. As long as you don't think about it too carefully, and maybe avoid looking it in the eye as you lower it into the broth.

The head simmers in the curry broth, imparting crucial base notes of the sea. Fish heads are packed full of meat, and the most prized part is the cheek meat just under the eye. Nudge this bit out with the tip of your chopstick and you're rewarded with a nugget of tender, silky flesh. The skin droops off, falling into the soup and adding an extra texture, thickening it with the collagen.
For a little extra luxury I added mussels as I had them kicking around, but this isn't particularly traditional. Green beans and okra provided textures - crunchy and slimy - that worked well with the fish. I spent a happy 15 minutes picking my way around the head, fishing deep into the bowl to ladle the curry broth onto my rice. The curry was heady with spice and a squeeze of lime juice and a splash of fish sauce added fragrance.

All the recipes I found called for fish curry powder; this was kindly gifted to me from Goz. You can buy it online here, or most Asian supermarkets will sell it. If you can't be bothered to cook this and you're in London, go to Goz's supperclub instead.

Malaysian Fish Head Curry

Serves 2

1 fish head - mine was hake. My fishmonger kindly gave it to me for free. Avoid stronger, oily fish; snapper, cod, grouper or hake work best.
4 tbsp Malaysian fish curry powder
1 onion
6 cloves of garlic
2" galangal
1 stick of lemongrass
4 dried red chillis, rehydrated
2 tsp coriander seeds
1 tsp cumin seeds
1 tsp salt

1/2 tin of coconut milk
A handful of okra
A handful of fine green beans
2 ripe tomatoes, cut into wedges
2 tbsp tamarind pulp, loosened in 300mls water - use your hands to work the pulp
2 sprigs of curry leaves - not dried
20 mussels (optional)
1 tsp sugar
1/2 a lime
1 tsp fish sauce
A few sprigs of coriander, for garnish

Rub the fish head with salt and set aside for 15 minutes. Toast the coriander and cumin seeds in a dry frying pan. Add to a blender or a pestle and mortar to blend with the garlic, onion, chilli, lemongrass and salt. In a separate bowl add a little water to the curry powder to mix into a paste.

Heat some oil in a pan. Add the curry leaves and onion spice paste, and fry slowly until golden and toasty. Add the curry powder paste mix. Add the tamarind water (strained) and the coconut milk, then bring to a boil. Add the okra, and simmer gently for 5 - 10 minutes. Rinse the fish head, and then carefully place that in with the slices of tomato and the green beans. Place the lid on and cook on a gentle heat for 10 - 15 mins (depending on the size of your head). If using, add the mussels during the last two minutes of cooking, just so that they open up. Remove the lid and take off the heat. Add the fish sauce and the sugar, then replace the lid and leave to stand for 10 minutes to allow the flavours to mingle.

Ladle the head out of the pot, then spoon the curry sauce around it and garnish with coriander leaves and a wedge of lime. Serve with rice.

Beetroot Thoran

I've always had a bit of a love hate relationship with beetroot; sometimes I can't get enough of it, and other times I push it away. I soon realised what the difference was; pickled or spicy beetroot preparations won favour over those paired with goats cheese. I still treat them with caution and they're not that kind of vegetable that I go rushing towards, but this dish helped get me in the right direction.

Thoran is from South India - more specifically, Kerala - and is a dry one, made by stir-frying vegetables with coconut, curry leaves and mustard seeds over a high heat. The coconut becomes more fragrant with the toasting of its flesh while the curry leaves impart their flavour to an otherwise simple dish.

While I wouldn't make it specifically to eat on it's own, it went very well with other saucy dishes such as the cauliflower and pea dhal that the grilled mackerel was sitting on. The earthy beetroot works well with the rich coconut flavours, and a squeeze of lemon brought it all to life.

You can use different vegetables with this; cabbage also works, as does green beans. Anything that can take a bit of stir-frying heat.

Beetroot Thoran

Serves 4 as a side

2 large beetroots, peeled and chopped into cubes

1 red onion sliced into half moons

2 green chillis chopped roughly

2 tsp black mustard seeds

3 tbsp unsweetened desiccated coconut - though grated fresh is best but a bit of a ballache

1 sprig of curry leaves

1 small handful of coriander, chopped

1 lemon

A hearty pinch of salt

Simmer the cubes of beetroot in water for 5 minutes, until tender. Drain well.

Heat up some vegetable oil and add the mustard seeds. Take the curry leaves off the sprig and add them. When the seeds begin to pop, add the red onion and the chilli and stir fry until softened. Add the beetroot, turn the heat right up and stir fry for a minute, then add the coconut and continue to stir-fry for another few minutes. It should be smelling nice and fragrant now. Add the lemon juice, salt and coriander, take off the heat and serve immediately.

Vinishas - Sri Lankan in Lewisham

My friends told me excitedly about a new Sri Lankan place near where I live; their tales of fiery curries and bargain prices meant a trip was scheduled soon after. The restaurant isn't big, with a handful of tables and we were the only customers there for a late lunch. Handed takeaway menus to peruse, the plasticky tablecloth and the radio station playing wasn't exactly a promising start.

Chilli paneer (£4.79) was cloyingly sweet and only with the gentlest of chilli kick. When our lovely waiter later came to take our dishes away and asked if it was ok, we told him how we felt and he took our criticism with enthusiasm. "Next time, we'll make it spicy!".

We fared better with the rest of our meal. Chilli appam (£1.19 each), also called hoppers were pancakes made with ground, soaked rice. This is mixed with coconut milk and water to form a batter, and then left to ferment for a few hours. This resulted in a pancake that was spongy in places and crisp in others, great textural contrasts. The chillis were atomic and my heartbeat rocketed after eating this. My stomach, so laden with cheese and cream and butter of the Christmas just past, was roused from its cosy swathes of fat.

The menu was littered with curry classics but I wanted to try the typical Sri Lankan dishes so instead opted for 'pittu (3 pcs) with mixed vegetable curry' (£4.29). The pittu (below picture, foreground) was 3 pieces of cylindrical ground rice layered with coconut and spices. This was a stodgy cake to be broken off into chunks and dipped in the vegetable curry. The curry was deceptively delicious; when it was first placed down it looked common enough, but on first taste it revealed complex and ferocious spicing. The pittu grew on me. At first I found it a bit bland but soon grew to love it as a coconut-tinged vehicle for the curry.

Mutton Kothu (£5) was on the lunchtime specials blackboard outside. When my friend ordered this he asked for 'proper spicy please, not mild white man stuff', to the amusement of our waiter. The silver dish turned up which contained far more than one would imagine; this fed both of us easily. The menu says you can choose what your Kothu is made up of and in this instance, it was parotta. Parotta is a Tamil Nadu layered flatbread, much like the Northern Indian paratha. Chopped up, the parotta is cooked on a hot griddle with egg, meat and spices and served with what is listed on the menu as bone gravy.

This was fantastically textured, the small pieces of bread feeling a bit like noodle. Everything is chopped up the same size giving a really pleasant mouthful. The pieces of mutton were sparse but tender, and the heat of the spices were a slow burn, gathering momentum as the dish was eaten.

We paid a paltry £8 a head for the above plus service. Although it wasn't a comfortable dining experience - don't sit by the window, unless you like cold gusts of wind freezing your sides - the food more than made up for it. The menu is extensive and I'm looking forward to going back to try the dosai, idiyappam, idly and sambols.

Vinishas

2 Loampit Hill
Lewisham SE13 7SW

Tel: 0208 691 7944

Aubergine & Tamarind Curry

Have I ever mentioned how much I love aubergines? It's borderline obsessive really. They're big meaty things with fantastic texture and they absorb flavours like a sponge, what's not to love? This curry is fairly similar to the aubergine, coconut and lime dhal in that they both contain aubergines, coconut - this time though, with a Thai twist and a sour tang that comes from tamarind.

A vivid orange curry was packed full of iron-rich cavolo nero and a head of pak choi that I had spare in the fridge; you can really use any green vegetable you like. Lots of dried red chillis were minced together with galangal, lemon grass and garlic to make a curry paste but it's the lime leaves thrown in while cooking that really gives it that fragrance the Thais do so well.

Aubergine & Tamarind Curry

Serves 2

For the spice paste:

A large handful of dried red chillis, rehydrated in boiling water
2 inches of galangal
6 cloves of garlic
1 stalk of lemongrass, inner soft part only
Half an onion
1 tbsp ground coriander
1 tsp shrimp paste
2 tbsp vegetable oil

Deseed the chillis and blitz all of the above with a little of the water from soaking the chillis.

1 medium aubergine
3 stalks of cavolo nero, or other dark leafy greens
4 lime leaves, torn roughly
1 can of coconut milk
A few seeds of tamarind - put these in a little boiling water and work the tamarind paste away from the seeds. Drain, reserving the tamarind paste. Alternatively, use 1.5 tbsp ready made tamarind paste
1 tbsp sugar, to taste
2 tbsp fish sauce (or to taste)
1 tbsp each of chopped basil and coriander

Slic the aubergines into fingers and fry in a little oil until coloured on both sides. Set aside. Heat some oil in a wok and add 2 tbsp of the curry paste. Stir fry until fragrant, then add the aubergines back in. Add the leafy greens and stir to coat. Add the coconut milk with the lime leaves and cook gently for 15 - 20 minutes.

Add the tamarind, the fish sauce tbsp by tbsp and the sugar; taste as you go. Add more of whatever you think it needs but keep tasting; it should be perfectly balanced.

Scatter with the chopped basil and coriander and serve with rice.

Thai Sour Fish Curry

I call it a curry but really it's more like a soup. I've been craving sour things recently, that bite of lime or tamarind and blazing heat on the tongue. I also have a habit of picking up new and unknown vegetables, and it just so happened that the 'bai yor' I bought on impulse is perfect for Thai fish curries. Thus a plan fell into place.

Firstly, a spicy curry paste is made. Various vegetables are simmered with stock and said curry paste, and the final touch is to blitz just-cooked white fish into flakes, then add it to the soup for essential fish flavour, texture and to thicken it up a bit. I used the cheapest white fish I could find for this, coley; alternatively, you could just drop chunks of white fish in to poach. The bai yor leaves go in last for a final simmer; they act like spinach and wilt down, adding a slightly bitter flavour to the dish. It's fine to leave out if you can't find it.

Sour Fish Curry

Serves 2

For the paste

5 red birds eye chillis
5 dried chillis
2 stalks of lemongrass, soft innards only
1 inch piece of galangal
2 tbsp tamarind paste
1 small onion
6 cloves of garlic
1 tsp sugar
1/2 tsp salt

Soften dried chillis in hot water. Deseed the chillis and blitz with the rest of the ingredients into a fine paste. You may need to add a little oil.

10 prawns
200gr white fish
A handful of green beans
A few leaves of Chinese cabbage
A few bai yor leaves (optional)
2 tbsp fish sauce
1 lime
300mls fish or chicken stock
A handful of coriander, chopped

In a pan, add the curry paste and fry gently for a few minutes. Add the stock and the Chinese cabbage, then then green beans cut into inch long pieces. Simmer for a few minutes. Either add the fish in chunks or cook the fish separately and blitz into flakes, then add to the soup. Add the bai yor, fish sauce, then the prawns and cook until the prawns turn pink and take off the heat immediately. Serve with a wedge of lime and rice, if desired.

Chicken & Spinach Dhansak

I wasn't going to blog this, as I broke the cardinal sin of curry making and rather than faff around toasting and grinding my whole spices, I USED CURRY POWDER. Yep, there it is. I supplemented it with other spices too, but being someone who previously turned their nose up at pre-mixed curry powders, I was staggered to find it was one of the most delicious curries I've made.

Dhansak has always been a takeaway favourite of mine, owing to the texture of the lentils as well as the sweet, sour and hot balance of flavours. I haven't really followed a recipe here but rather did it by intuition, so apologies to the authenticity police. Given it took a mere hour to make, this is a keeper. It was served with this onion and pomegranate salad (I jazzed it up by adding chilli and cucumber) and rice - excess pomegranate seeds went into the curry, which gave some nice tart bursts of flavour.

Chicken & Spinach Dhansak

Serves 4

250gr chicken thighs, skinned and boned
150gr dried red lentils
2 tbsp medium curry powder (I used Sainsburys)
1 heaped tsp turmeric
2 tsp ground cumin
1 tsp garam masala
3 cardamom pods
1 tsp salt
1 tsp chilli powder
2 large white onions
6 cloves of garlic
3" ginger
A bunch of spinach, or about 300gr frozen spinach
1 tin of tomatoes
3 tsp sugar
1 lime or 3 tsp tamarind puree
3 tbsp ghee

Dice the onion finely and mince the garlic and ginger. Fry slowly in the ghee until nice and browned. Add the lentils in with the spices, stir to cover and add about 200mls water. Bring to a simmer and simmer briskly for 10 minutes. Add the tinned tomatoes in. Simmer for another 10 mins, then add the chicken thighs in. Carry on simmering; the lentils should have broken down by now, making it nice and thick. Stir occasionally and add the salt. Add the sugar - it looks like a lot of it but the lime is quite strong so it should level it out nicely.

Meanwhile, if you're using fresh spinach wash and steam it, then blend it until smooth. If using frozen, cook briefly so it's defrosted but not overcooked. Drain well. Just before serving, mix the spinach in with the curry and squeeze the lime juice in. Cook for a further 2 minutes, then take off the heat.