Perfect Chana Dal with Golden Raisins

Introducing a new occasional column, Indian Feast, where I'll slowly tackle staples of Indian cooking right here in my kitchen.

I recently received an email from a reader (hi, Deborah!) about curry. She said she'd been on a kick lately, and wanted to know if I had any recipes to share.

It's strange and wonderful when I get emails from you and realize we are on precisely the same page.  Over my years of cooking, I've managed to make Vietnamese pho, real phat Thai, 30-ingredient mole negro, and more. But Indian food -- the kind you eat in restaurants: silky, smooth, and generously spicy -- continues to elude me. But now, after a few fits and starts, I've been tearing through lentils and rice like no one's business, trying to finally find recipes and formulas that will bring my favorite Indian staples within reach at home. The more successful I am, the more recipes I'll be sharing. Wish me luck. Shall we begin?

We start with dal, because it's dal. It is the staple of Indian meals, and if I can't make that, well, I might as well just quit right now. But I can! I can. In the past couple of months, I've made two dal recipes that blow the rest out of the water. One is for a straight-up traditional dal makhani, still one of my favorite things to order at Indian restaurants. But the one I'm sharing today is made with chana dal, yellow split peas - and for those concerned with authenticity, avert your eyes: we're going modern.

chana dal

The recipe comes by way of Nicholas Day, who writes a wonderful column on Food52 called Dinner vs. Child. I don't have any kids, but I feel that I, ahem, share parents' struggle to get their kids to eat healthy food. I've been tuning into Nicholas' column, and this recipe has been in the regular rotation ever since he posted it. It's adapted from 660 curries, a book I don't know but think I might need. This curry is delightful. It is spicy (if you want it to be), sweet, smooth and creamy. Unlike so many dal dishes I've had, where all the flavors are muddled into a big slop, this one is clean and rich and fragrant, and every bite tastes slightly different. It's really, really good.

Incidentally, even D didn't hate it. I told you this recipe's a keeper.

As if you need one more excuse to make this, I didn't even tell you the best part, which is that this dal sort of comes with its own chutney. That's because of the prep method: dal cooked separately; tomatoes and cumin sauced into deliciousness; onions, raisins, and more, cooked and reduced into an ultra-flavorful sauce; sauce folded into dal before serving. Bottom line? All you need to enjoy this dish is a bowl and a spoon. Rice and raita or even plain yogurt are good additions, but they aren't essential.

chana dal 3

Yes, you can read this now and have homemade Indian food for dinner tonight.

And just to make sure you come back for chapter 2, I'll say it right now: I'm teaching you how to make really, really good dosa at home. Stay tuned.

Perfect Chana Dal with Golden RaisinsAdapted from Nicholas Day on Food52, who adapted it from 660 Curries

1 cup chana dal (yellow split peas) 1/2 teaspoon ground turmeric 3 tablespoons ghee or olive oil 2 medium-large red onions, halved lengthwise and thinly sliced 1/2 cup golden raisins (can substitute currants) 3 bay leaves 2 teaspoons cumin seeds 2-inch nub of ginger, minced or grated 2 large or 3 medium cloves garlic, minced 1 1/2 cups chopped tomato (can be canned) 3 serrano chiles, seeds and membrane removed, minced 1 1/2 teaspoons salt (unless using salted canned tomatoes, in which case use only 1 teaspoon and taste before adding it all) 1 teaspoon garam masala

Put split peas in a medium-large pot, and rinse in several changes of water until the water runs clear. Drain. Add three cups of water and turmeric, and bring to a boil. Skim foam, reduce the heat, and simmer the peas uncovered until cooked but still firm, about 25 minutes (longer if peas are old).

Add two cups water and simmer until tender, approximately 15 more minutes.

In the meantime, heat 2 tablespoons ghee or olive oil in a large pan set over high heat. Add onion, raisins, and bay leaves, and cook for about 10 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the onions look almost fried. Transfer to a bowl.

Heat 1 tablespoon ghee or olive oil in the same pan and turn heat to medium. Add cumin seeds and cook just until they sizzle, which will be almost immediately. Add ginger and garlic and cook for a minute, stirring.

Add tomato, chiles, salt, garam masala, and 1 cup water. Scrape all the good bits off the bottom of the pan.

When the peas are tender, add most of the tomato mixture to the peas and simmer, uncovered, for another 15 minutes or so, until the tastes meld. I like to reserve a good 1/4 cup of the tomato mixture to serve over the finished dish.

To serve, spoon dal into bowls and top with a bit of the tomato mixture and a spoonful of the onion-raisin mixture. Eat immediately.

Fresh Salmon Cakes with Ginger and Lime

We've been having some of the most beautiful days in DC these past couple of weeks. The air is crisp but not yet cool, and the sun seems happy to shine all day long. It looks like summer from my office window, but it's starting to feel like fall.

The weather's confused my compass a bit in the kitchen. tomatoes and -- believe it or not -- peaches are still at the market for the taking, but apples cropped up early this year, and now they're everywhere. Most confusing of all, as I passed through the lower part of the Dupont market a few Sundays ago, I saw unlikeliest of early fall produce: fresh ginger.

Ginger typically doesn't come into season until mid-October, but there it was, at the end of September, and it was gorgeous. I'd used up my stash from last fall months ago and craved more ever since. Was I going to hold back? No, no I wasn't.

The first thing I do with market ginger is make ginger ice cream. It's been that way every year. Fortunately, I bought enough to have extra after the ice cream was frozen and tucked away. So I flipped to a recipe I'd tabbed back when I breezed my way through The New York Times Essential Cookbook, for fresh salmon and lime cakes.

Rid the image of canned salmon and/or disgusting amounts of mayonnaise from your mind. Shudder; sigh. These are no ordinary salmon cakes. They contain fresh, diced salmon; very little binder; and --surprise! -- wasabi, ginger, and kaffir lime leaves. Dipping sauce: lime juice, soy sauce, brown sugar. No mayo whatsoever.

salmon cakes 2

These aren't burgers; they're cakes. Don't sandwich them inside a bun (unless it's one of those Asian steamed buns, which actually might be great with a shmear of hoisin and sriracha...whoa, what an idea!) But really, these don't belong in a kaiser roll. They belong on a plate, with a fork and knife -- the way the French might eat burgers, come to think of it.

salmon cakes 4

salmon cakes 5

Dicing the salmon will be time-intensive. If you have a meat grinder, lucky you. If you're in a rush, you can cut the salmon into large pieces, put them into a food processor, and pulse a few times very quickly until salmon is coarsely chopped. After that, the work is minimal. You can have dinner on the table in 15 minutes flat. Now that fall's arrived -- with school underway, jobs busy as ever, and all of those fall Jewish holidays here -- there's not much else I can ask for.

salmon cakes 6

Fresh Salmon Cakes with Ginger and LimeFrom The New York Times Essential Cookbook Recipe says it serves 4-6, but I'd say it's more like 2-3; I doubled recipe and served 4 with not too many leftover

*Note: kaffir lime leaves aren't the easiest to find. If we're being honest, I had to try 3 stores before finally getting some. Your best bet is an Asian grocer. That said, you definitely can make these with lime zest. Fret not.

One 1-pound skinless salmon fillet 1 large egg white, lightly beaten 3 tablespoons rice flour 2 kaffir lime leaves, chopped, or zest of one lime 1 tablespoon minced or grated fresh ginger 1 teaspoon wasabi paste 3 tablespoons chopped chervil or flat-leaf parsley

1/4 cup fresh lime juice (from about 2 limes) 1/4 cup soy sauce 2 tablespoons brown sugar

Oil for frying (something neutral, like corn, canola, or vegetable)

Run two fingers along the top of the salmon to check for any pin bones. They run the length of the flesh, right along the middle. To pull them out, either use tweezers or a small piece of paper towel between your fingers (which mitigates the slipperiness of the fish). Pull in the direcfaces of the bone; they should slide out.

Dice the salmon into 1/4-inch dice. In a medium bowl, combine salmon, egg white, rice flour, lime leaves, ginger, wasabi paste, and chervil or parsley. Stir until everything is evenly mixed.

In a small bowl, combine lime juice, soy sauce, and brown sugar. Set aside.

Set a piece of plastic wrap or parchment paper on a baking sheet. Scoop 2-tablespoon portions of the salmon mixture into your palms, roll into a ball, flatten into a cake, and set on the baking sheet. Continue until all salmon has been used.

Preheat the oven to 200 degrees. Put a baking sheet into the oven.

Heat 1/2 an inch of oil in a nonstick or castiron pan. When oil shimmers, add cakes, leaving at least 1 inch between them. Cook cakes for about 45 seconds on each side; do not overcook. When cakes have finished cooking, transfer them to the oven to stay warm while you cook the rest of the cakes.

Serve immediately, with lime dipping sauce on the side.

(If you'd like to make these in advance, don't preheat the oven; just transfer the cooked cakes to a plate, refrigerate, and warm through in a 200-degree oven before serving.)

Spinach with Toasted Sesame Dressing

Bittman says that spinach is a dish best served cooked, and who am I to disagree? I used to be very into raw spinach salads with strawberries, avocado, and sweet, sweet vinaigrette -- you know the salad I'm talking about -- but that feels very 90's LA, or Upper West Side circa my college years. These days, it's onward, upward, and into boiling water with my spinachy greens.

spinach

Last week, Bryce and I went to Toki Underground, again. (Brycie, think we count as regulars yet? Probably not. Lather, rinse, repeat. I need more ramen, stat.) Among the many treats buried in every bowl of ramen are these tightly rolled coils of spinach. You peel off layers of the spinach as you eat, sort of like ohitashi; they soak up the broth you're slurping. It's good fun.

spinach log

I've been blanching and bunching spinach in all sorts of recipes lately. There's loads of it at the markets, and while every time the huge bundle cooks down into a little blob I feel a bit deflated, even a small portion of the recipe I'm sharing today delivers a big punch.

It's precisely because the spinach cooks down so much that it stands up to a sauce as insistently vocal as this one. You wouldn't think a sauce of sesame seeds would deliver such a lash, but it does: it's salty from the soy sauce, sweet from the mirin, and deeply, pungently sesame, from seeds toasted just until they're looking over the cliff at burnt, then ground into a dark brown paste and folded into the sauce. This recipe, it's a good one. Oh, and for all you people who have something else to do tonight besides cook dinner? The whole thing takes ten, maybe fifteen minutes.

sesame seeds

toasted seeds

If sesame isn't your thing, I bet you you can make this with toasted ground peanuts, or even with a spoonful of almond butter. Not the same, but probably still delicious. Do let us know if you try it that way.

sesame dressing

If soy isn't your thing (I'm looking at you, Terr...), maybe you could substitute a bit of rice wine vinegar and some salt.

Try it, you'll like it. And have a wonderful weekend, everyone.

spinach toasted sesame dressing

Spinach and Toasted Sesame Dressingadapted from Just One Cookbook's Spinach Gomaae recipe

Vegetarian and gluten-free (if you use GF soy sauce)

1 lb. raw spinach, washed Pinch of salt 6 tablespoons roasted white sesame seeds, plus more for garnish 3 tablespoons soy sauce 2 tablespoon sugar 2 teaspoons sake or rice wine vinegar 1 teaspoon mirin

Set a big pot of water on high heat and bring to a boil.

Meanwhile, put sesame seeds in a small (preferably stainless steel) frying pan and dry-toast them over medium heat until they turn deep golden brown and a couple seeds jump in the pan. The seeds will continue to toast as they cool, so watch them like a hawk as they brown. There's a fine line between deep brown and burnt. Set aside.

Water should be boiling. Add spinach and pinch of salt. Cook 1 minute, until spinach is vibrant green; drain immediately, and either shock in an ice bath or run under cold water to stop the cooking. Squeeze spinach in a fist to drain the water, then shape it into two fat logs. Cut the logs crosswise into four little bundles, leaving the stray bits at each end of the log as a chef's snack. Transfer two bundles to each of four very small bowls or plates.

Put the sesame seeds in a spice grinder or a mortar and grind or blitz until the seeds become a fine powder. If using a spice grinder, transfer sesame powder to a bowl. Add soy sauce, sugar, sake/vinegar, and mirin, and stir to combine.

Spoon the sauce over the four bundles of spinach and finish with a sprinkle of sesame seeds. Serve to hungry people.