Vini Aujla of Rustic Indian left her job in the City to bring us the fresh flavours of real Punjabi cooking

My family is from a farming background in India and I've eaten Punjabi food my entire life. I grew up cooking in the kitchen with my mum and my nan, who always cooked everything from scratch.

I used to work in the City, but I'd been thinking about starting my own business for years. I'd realised that there were no fresh Indian sauces on the market. In Britain, people are used to Indian restaurant food, which uses a lot of ghee. Yet traditionally, Indian food is healthy and nutritious. I wanted to introduce an authentic range of fresh, rustic Punjabi sauces, and not anglicised at all. I also wanted to present them in a contemporary way, with innovative recipe suggestions.

My husband Bal thought I was crazy to contemplate making curry for a living, but after having my children, I decided to go for it. Now he's a partner in the business. The recipes I produce are the ones I grew up eating: the shahi is a mild and flavoursome cream-based sauce, and excellent for marinating meat. My father really loves the jeera, which goes well with red meat, chicken and fish, while the fiery mirchi is one of my own favourites: flavoursome rather than spicy. Punjabi food is not about the amount of chilli you can put in your curry, it's about how the spices are prepared and blended.

The authenticity and quality of the product is paramount, so my husband and I schedule one day every fortnight for production, helped by four staff. I can't find it in myself to pass that on to somebody else.

I love the way that people react when they try the sauces. We often hear, "Mmm, so this is what Indian food is supposed to taste like!" I really can't imagine doing anything else.

rusticindian.com

North Indian tandoori palak murghi (chicken spinach)

This is a classic recipe made in many Punjabi households. It's simple and gives excellent results each time.

Serves 4

400g natural yoghurt
2 tbsp tandoori masala
Juice of ½ lemon
700g of chicken breast, cubed
4 tbsp rapeseed oil
3 medium onions, finely chopped
2 garlic cloves, finely chopped
50g fresh ginger, finely chopped
1 fresh tomato, diced
1 sweet bell pepper, diced
400g tin chopped tomatoes
6 green birdseye chillies
4 cardamom pods
2 cloves
1 tsp coriander seeds
1 tbsp turmeric powder
100g spinach
Handful of fresh coriander, as garnish
Salt

1 In a large bowl gently whisk the natural yoghurt to give it a smooth consistency, add the tandoori masala and the lemon juice.

2 Cover the chicken in the yoghurt marinade and refrigerate for two hours.

3 In a heavy-based pan, heat the oil on a medium heat. Add the onions, garlic and ginger, and saute until golden brown.

4 Add the fresh tomato and pepper to the pan and cook until they begin to soften.

5 Add the tinned tomatoes, turn down the heat and allow the mixture to reduce until it turns darker reddish-brown. If it sticks to the pan, add a little boiling water.

6 Finely chop four of the chillies and add to the pan. Add the other two whole (this allows you to control the heat in your sauce)

7 Using a pestle and mortar, gently crush the cardamom pods and dispose of the outer shells. Add the cloves and coriander seeds and grind to make a basic masala mix. Add this masala mix to the pan along with the turmeric. Season to taste. The curry base is ready when it is of a thick consistency and the oil has risen to the top (this is achieved by keeping the sauce on a low heat).

8 Add the chicken and its marinade, along with the spinach, and cook on low heat for 20–25 minutes, until the meat is tender.

9 Sprinkle some coriander on top and serve with rice, naan or chapati.

Chicken tikka is a British favourite, but there's no need to resort to a ready meal or takeaway. Vineet Bhatia shows you how to marinade chicken in lemon juice, spices and yoghurt to create a delicious Indian kebab

This aromatic sauce is a delicious way to cook urid dal, or black lentils, says the winner of ITV's Food Glorious Food cookery contest

Serves 6

6-7 tbsp vegetable oil
1 medium onion, finely chopped
1 tbsp garlic and ginger, peeled and grated
2-3 fresh tomatoes, finely chopped
1 tsp chilli powder
1 tsp salt
½ tsp turmeric
1-2 tsp coriander seeds, finely ground
2-3 tbsp fresh fenugreek leaves, finely chopped
250g urid dal
Water (three times the volume of dal)
1 green chilli, halved lengthways
25g butter (optional)
1-2 tbsp fresh coriander, finely chopped
1-2 tsp jeera/cumin seeds, finely ground (optional)
½ tsp black peppercorns, finely ground (optional)

Heat the oil in a lidded pan on medium/high, add the onion and cover until it starts to soften.

Add the garlic, ginger and tomatoes and cook until the ingredients are soft and slightly brown.

Add the spices, stir and cook for a few minutes.

Add the fenugreek and allow to cook over a low to medium heat, stirring occasionally, until it has completely wilted.

Once the sauce has been cooking for approximately 10 minutes, add the dal and stir.

Turn up the heat, add a large splash of the water and stir. When the water has evaporated, add more and stir. Continue to do this for five minutes.

Add the rest of the water and the chilli (and the butter for extra flavour, if you like), bring to the boil and then turn the heat down low. Place the lid on the pan and allow to cook, stirring occasionally. Add more water if it all evaporates.

When the dal is soft with a hint of al dente and the thick consistency of risotto, it is cooked.

Add the fresh coriander and optional spices, and serve with roti, naan or rice.

Rahila Hussain, winner of ITV's Food Glorious Food cookery contest, shares her chickpea pilau rice recipe

(Serves 6-8)

450g basmati rice
4-5 tbsp oil
25g butter
1 small onion, finely sliced lengthwise
2-3 tsp salt
1-2 green chillis, to taste
4-6 whole black cloves
1 tsp coriander seeds
1-2 tsp jeera/cumin seeds
½ tsp back peppercorns
1-2 whole black cardamoms
3-5 green cardamoms
1-2 cinnamon sticks
Water (double the volume of the rice)
500g tinned chickpeas

Wash the rice gently in cold water until the water runs clear (this ensures all the starch is removed so the rice won't stick), then leave it to soak in cold water.

Put the oil, butter and onion in a pan and fry on a high to medium heat until the onions are very dark brown. Add all the spices and stir for a minute.

Splash in 1-2 tbsp of water, stir quickly, add the chickpeas and stir again. Add the remaining water and bring to the boil.

Taste the stock and add more salt if necessary – the rice will absorb the salt and once cooked it will taste milder. Add the rice gently and stir.

Bring to the boil then turn the heat right down and put the lid on. Wring a wet tea towel out, place over the pan and put the lid on (ensure the edges of the towel are not hanging down).

Allow the rice to cook for approximately 15-20 minutes. Stir carefully once. To see if it's ready, roll a few grains between your thumb and forefinger – if there's any hardness, steam it until it's soft.

Serve with curry or cucumber and mint yoghurt.

Rahila Hussain, winner of ITV's Food Glorious Food cookery contest, shares her tried and tested okra curry recipe

Serves 6

450g okra
6-8 tbsp sunflower oil
1 medium to large onion, finely sliced lengthwise
1 small bulb garlic, finely chopped or ground
1 tsp red chilli powder
1/2 tsp turmeric
Cumin/jeera seeds, finely ground, to tasteSalt
1 or 2 green chillis, sliced lengthwise

Wash the okra, drain and then chop into ¾ inch pieces. Heat the oil in a large non-stick pan, then saute the onions until they start to turn golden in colour. Add the garlic and continue cooking until the onions have browned. Add the spices and stir for 30 seconds.

Cook the okra in the oil on a medium heat in a separate pan until slightly tender, then add the green chilli (remove the seeds with a teaspoon if you prefer less heat).

Add the okra mix to the onions, stir through well and leave to cook on a low heat with the pan uncovered. Stir occasionally so the mixture does not stick. Cook until the okra is nice and tender. Serve with naan, pitta or roti.

To mark 10 years of the Observer Food Monthly Awards, a selection of the best recipes from the magazine over the past decade
• Tomorrow: puddings
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Almond lamb curry: Atul Kochhar

This dish derives its main flavour from a spice blend called vadagam, which can be a little tedious to make. In this recipe, I have simplified the flavours by using whole spices, with equally good results.

Serves 4-6
sunflower oil 2 tbsp
cloves 3
cinnamon sticks 2
green cardamom pods 3
curry leaves 8
onions 2 medium, chopped
tomatoes 2 medium, chopped
ginger-garlic paste 2 tsp (tsp of each, minced)
turmeric powder½ tsp
coriander
powder 3 tsp
red chilli powder 2 tsp
lamb, boneless 400g, chopped into 2cm cubes
potatoes 150g, cut into wedges
blanched almonds 200g, soaked then blended into a paste
poppy seeds 2 tsp, mixed into almond paste
tamarind pulp 1 tsp
coriander leaves 8 sprigs
sliced almonds a small handful, toasted

Heat the oil in a pan, add the whole spices and curry leaves, sauté until the aromas are released and add the chopped onions. Fry gently until the onions are golden brown, add the chopped tomatoes and cook until the sauce is a uniform texture. Stir in the ginger-garlic paste and the powdered spices, add a splash of water, then continue cooking gently for half an hour. Add the diced lamb, the potatoes and 200ml water, then simmer gently until the lamb is nearly tender. Mix in the almond and poppy seed paste and simmer. Add tamarind pulp and continue simmering until the lamb is tender. Add a little more water if the sauce is too thick. Garnish with coriander sprigs and toasted almonds.

Chicken with potatoes: Jill Dupleix

Serves 4
medium all-purpose potatoes 800g
red onion 1, cut into wedges
olive oil 2 tbsp, plus extra to drizzle
dried oregano 1 tsp
thyme leaves 1 tbsp
sea salt and pepper
dry white wine 200ml
poussins (small chickens) 4, about 450g each
cherry tomatoes on the vine 12
oregano and thyme leaves to serve

Heat the oven to 220C/gas mark 7.

Peel the potatoes, halve lengthways and slice thickly. Toss with the onion, olive oil, herbs, sea salt and pepper. Scatter over the base of a large, oiled, roasting pan. Pour over the wine and 200ml water and roast for 20 minutes.

Cut each poussin in half, firmly down on one side of the backbone, with a strong knife. Add them to the roasting pan and drizzle with olive oil. Roast for 20 minutes, shooshing the potatoes around once or twice to prevent them sticking. Add the tomatoes and roast for another 20 minutes. Strew with oregano and thyme leaves and drizzle with the pan juices. Serve with a rocket or watercress salad.

From Lighten Up: Light, Fresh, Modern, Healthy Food by Jill Dupleix (Quadrille, £12.99)

Bacon and egg pie: Margot Henderson

This is an old school pie from New Zealand: you are not a proper mother if you don't pack your kids off with a bacon and egg pie for their sports day. I found it was also very successful on a cold sandy bank in Scotland after the children had spent a night camping. Peas can be added – always good to get a bit of green in.

Serves 9-12
streaky bacon 250g
butter 30g, plus extra for greasing
flour for dusting
frozen puff pastry 375g, defrosted
tomatoes 2
eggs 9
egg yolks 2
sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

You will also need
a rectangular baking tray about 30cm long

Preheat the oven to 200C/gas 6. Put the strips of bacon on a baking tray with a few knobs of butter and cook in the preheated oven for 5 minutes or so. Take the bacon out but leave the oven on.

Using a little more butter, grease a rectangular baking tray, 30cm long.

Flour your work surface and roll out the pastry. Cut it in half, then, using a rolling pin, roll out one half until it is large enough to line the baking tray and let the pastry come halfway up the sides of the tray – this is important to prevent the egg leaking out later.

Cover the pastry with the streaky bacon – you may need to break it into strips to make sure that the pastry is evenly covered. Slice the tomatoes and lay them over the bacon. Crack the eggs evenly on top.

Roll out the rest of the pastry, and cut it into thin strips, placing it over the eggs in a lattice pattern.

Beat the egg yolks with a little salt and pepper and glaze the pastry with the mixture, using a pastry brush or your fingers.

Bake in the oven for 30 minutes, until the pastry is golden. Set aside to cool slightly, then cut into pieces and serve with Steinlager.

From You're All Invited by Margot Henderson (Fig Tree, £25). To order a copy for £18 with free UK p&p go to guardian.co.uk/bookshop

Stir-fried minced beef with chillies and holy basil: David Thompson

The secret to the dish, I think, lies in the tempering of the wok, which imbues this simple stir-fry with a smoky tinge. I find a rather coarse mince yields the best result – ideally done by hand, and using a cut of beef with some fat attached, such as flank, rump or shoulder.

Serves 2
garlic cloves 4, peeled
bird's eye chillies (scuds) 4-10
salt good pinch
vegetable oil 3-4 tbsp
eggs 2
coarsely minced beef 200 g
fish sauce about 2 tbsp
white sugar a large pinch
stock or water 4 tbsp
holy basil leaves 2 large handfuls
chillies in fish sauce (see below) to serve

For the chillies in fish sauce
fish sauce 4 tbsp
bird's eye chillies (scuds) 10-15, finely sliced
garlic cloves (optional but desirable) 2, finely sliced
lime juice (optional) 1 tbsp
chopped coriander good pinch

To make the chillies in fish sauce, combine the fish sauce, chillies and garlic in a bowl and set aside. It keeps for some time – in fact it becomes richer and milder as it settles for a day. Make sure it is covered if you are making it in advance – and if the fish sauce evaporates, add an equivalent amount of water to refresh it. Just before serving, stir through the lime juice and coriander.

To prepare the chilli beef, coarsely chop the garlic with the chillies and salt. Heat a well-seasoned wok over a high heat then turn down the heat and add 2 tablespoons of the oil. Crack in one of the eggs and fry gently, shuffling the egg to prevent it from sticking, until it has cooked to your preference – I like mine with a runny yolk but with crispy, frazzled edges. Spoon some of the hot oil over the egg to ensure the yolk cooks evenly. Carefully lift out the egg with a spatula and place it on a warmed plate, then fry the other egg. Keep the eggs warm while you cook the beef.

Add more oil – you'll need about 4 tablespoons of oil all up in the wok. When the oil is hot, fry the garlic and chillies for a moment, but don't let it colour. Add the beef and continue to stir-fry for a minute until just cooked. Season to taste with the fish sauce and sugar but be careful not to make it too salty.

Add the stock or water and simmer for a moment. Don't let it boil or stew for too long, otherwise the meat will toughen and too much liquid will evaporate – there should be enough to form a sauce. Stir in the holy basil and as soon as it is wilted, remove from the heat. It should taste rich, hot, salty and spicy from the basil. Serve on two plates with plenty of steamed jasmine rice, a fried egg on top and a bowl of chillies in fish sauce on the side.

From Thai Street Food by David Thompson (Conran Octopus, £40). To order a copy for £29 with free UK p&p go to guardian.co.uk/bookshop

Chicken with morels and sherry sauce: Raymond Blanc

Plan ahead – the dried morels need to be soaked for at least a couple of hours. You can prepare the chicken half an hour in advance and warm it through in the morel sauce to serve.

Serves 4
dried morels 30g, soaked in 250ml water for at least 2 hours
organic/free-range chicken 4 breasts (180g each), skinned
sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
unsalted butter 15g
firm button mushrooms 250g, washed quickly, patted dry and quartered
dry sherry or Jura wine 120ml
double cream 400ml

For the leeks
medium leeks 2, trimmed, cut into 2cm pieces and washed
boiling water 200ml
sea salt a pinch
unsalted butter 15g

To prepare the morels, drain them, reserving the soaking liquor, and squeeze to extract as much of the liquor as possible. Rinse the morels, drain and squeeze dry. Cut larger morels into smaller pieces; set aside. Pass the reserved liquor through a muslin-lined sieve to remove any sand or grit and save 100ml.

To cook the chicken, season the breasts with salt and pepper. In a large frying pan, melt the butter over a medium heat until it is foaming. Add the chicken breasts and colour lightly for 3 minutes on each side. Remove from the pan and reserve.

In the fat remaining in the frying pan, soften the soaked morels and button mushrooms together, for 1-2 minutes. Meanwhile, boil the sherry or wine in a small pan for 30 seconds. Add the sherry or wine to the mushrooms with the reserved morel liquor and a pinch of salt. Pour in the cream and bring to the boil.

Place the chicken breasts back in the pan, making sure the sauce covers them. Lower the heat to a gentle simmer and cook for 10 minutes, depending on the size of the chicken breasts, until they are just cooked through.

Meanwhile, put the leeks in a pan, pour on the boiling water and add the salt and butter. Cover and cook at a full boil for 5-10 minutes until tender.

Using a slotted spoon, lift out the chicken breasts and place in a warm dish; keep warm. Boil the sauce rapidly to reduce until it is thick enough to coat the back of a spoon. Taste and adjust the seasoning. Place the chicken breasts back in the sauce to reheat for 2 minutes.

Lift the leeks from their liquor with a slotted spoon and arrange on warmed plates. Sit the chicken breasts on top and pour the morel sauce over and around.

From Kitchen Secrets by Raymond Blanc (Bloomsbury, £25). To order a copy for £12 with free UK p&p go to guardian.co.uk/bookshop

Mumbai's grand old Parsi cafes are a symbol of the city's diverse cuisine and culture, but on a foodie tour of the city our writer finds out they are a dying breed

I eat the best creme caramel of my life in 26C heat, with life-sized cutouts of the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge smiling down at me from the dining room's slightly slanting balcony. A pigeon snoozes on the lone chandelier, dusty beneath peeling turquoise paintwork, and ceiling fans whirr above crowded, chattering tables. I'm sitting in Britannia and Co Restaurant (Wakefield House, 11 Sprott Road), one of the last remaining Parsi cafes in south Mumbai (or south Bombay as the locals so protectively still call it), and I'm full of food.

Opened in the 19th-century by Parsi settlers – Zoroastrians from Iran – these cafes, with their magnificently faded, time-capsule dining rooms and speciality dishes, are a gloriously eccentric part of the fabric of Mumbai. They are also democratic and inclusive places, where people of all backgrounds, classes and sexes meet, so you may find a Sikh next to a Hindu or Zoroastrian or a group of young female students dining alone.

They are also a dying breed. In 1950 there were about 550 of them, many of which grew from humble tea stalls; now only 15 to 20 are still open.

"It's so sad there are so few left," says British restaurateur Kavi Thakrar, who – along with his cousin Shamil and chef Naved Nasir – has created London's Dishoom restaurants in the mould of these cafes. The three are acting as my guides on a food tour of Mumbai, and between them know this city's cuisine inside out: Naved because he lived and cooked here for four years, and the Thakrars because they've spent chunks of time here visiting their grandparents. Shamil was married here in 2006, in a special syndicated ceremony he shared with six couples from the city's slums.

Dishoom's food has been inspired by the varied cuisine of this city – stories from its Parsi cafes have even been baked onto the restaurant's plates – and Shamil hopes to "transport a bit of this vintage Mumbai to London".

"Mumbai is a city of immigrants," he says through mouthfuls of the deep, almost cheesily creamy caramel and sips of fresh lime soda – a quenching mixture of lime juice, salt, sugar and fizzy water that's a must-order here. "It's a huge mix and the cafes are the greatest example of that."

On a wall, cultural tributes preside: a painting of Queen Elizabeth II next to a portrait of Mahatma Gandhi, both hanging beneath a gilt-framed picture of Zarathustra, the Zoroastrian prophet worshiped by the Parsis. This unlikely trio sums up the essence of the cafes: their legacy from the days of the Raj, their tolerance of all religions, and their Zoroastrian roots.

That the Britannia and Co resides in a corner site of the genteel Ballard Estate business district, in a grand, Renaissance-style building designed by Scottish architect George Wittet (famous for the city's Gateway To India monument) is no accident.

"Many of the cafes hold sought-after positions in prime real estate," says Shamil. "Hindus are superstitious about building on street corners, but the Parsis didn't mind. That's why they became such shared spaces and promoted tolerance."

But just as their prime positioning has ensured longevity, so it now threatens their future, since the children of the current proprietors – most of whom took over the cafes from their parents – are more interested in property prices than the 14-hour working days required to run them. It's unlikely, Kavi and Shamil tell me, that most of these cafes will exist long after the current owners pass on.

Britannia and Co is open for lunch only, 12-4pm every day except Sunday, and around us people are tucking into their chicken berry pulaos, this cafe's most famous dish (along with the creme caramel). It's a heavenly, sweet-sour confluence of fragrant pilau rice layered with moist chunks of chicken and a rich, spiced tomato sauce, topped with sour barberries, crunchy cashews and sweet, sticky caramelised onions. It's a recipe that, while recreated across the world (Dishoom has its own version, with cranberries), is a secret fiercely guarded by 91-year-old proprietor Boman Kohinoor, whose wife brought it with her from Iran.

Kohinoor has a keen sense of humour. "Welcome back to the home of your ancestors. They've been here for 300 years and we've all been very happy," he says when we're introduced, before vanishing momentarily, only to reappear with armfuls of laminated photographs, including one of a famous Bollywood actor, which he holds up. "He's a rascal," he says with a waggling finger. "He never brings his wife – always other actresses."

He proudly shows us letters from diners including George Bush Senior, Dick Cheney, and the Pope; one even carries the official letterhead of Windsor Castle. "Please give your Queen my love," he says, "We are very short on space but we'd love to fit her in when she returns to the city."

Born in 1923, the year his father set up the cafe, Kohinoor has worked here for the past 75 years, since he was 16, and he remembers a very different Mumbai from the now rapidly Americanising city: "There used to be 11 million people, now there are about 18 million, and there is so much pollution. Everything has gone up in price. In 1982 the berry pulao was 40 rupees, now it's 400." Which, at around £5 is still quite a steal, I almost point out, before glimpsing a sign above our table that reads, "Please do not argue with the management."

In the days that follow, we probably get through gallons of creamy, unspiced Parsi chai and sample the individual, freshly made food of several more cafes. Each cafe – apart from the touristy Leopold Cafe (near Electric House on Colaba Causeway, leopoldcafe.com), which still bears bullet holes from the 26/11 attacks, and Café Mondegar (Metro House, 5-A Shahid Bhagat Singh Road, Colaba) – is crumbling in its own special way, each tangibly Parsi, with Zarathustra overseeing proceedings.

At Yazdani bakery and cafe (Fountain Akbar Ally, Saint Thomas Cathedral), we taste Mumbai's best brun maska, hot toasted white buns slathered in melted butter with crunchy crusts that we dip into hot chai – the bread melting in the mouth like brioche. Yazdani is known for its baked goods, which it has been making since the early 1950s.

Owner Parvez Irani takes us into the bakery (which is usually strictly off-limits to females). It's a 24-hour operation where a dozen or so bakers live in the rafters above the wood-fired ovens they tend day and night.

Naved says: "It's difficult to choose a favourite cafe because each one is known for its own dishes." But he's particularly enamoured with the deeply savoury, pleasingly fatty kheema pau (spiced minced lamb) at Radio (Building No 10, near Crawford Market), the most dilapidated of the places we visit. It is known to hold favour among the city's gangsters, and eating on its worn, wooden tables, dwarfed by a cavernous, crumbling ceiling in the near darkness, you can sense that it could harbour a certain menace.

"This is the best kheema pau in Mumbai," declares Naved, scooping up the glistening meat with thin slices of red onion and the pau – the white fluffy bread buns found in all Parsi cafes. He has created his own version of this dish.

"They haven't put any tomato in this," he says. "It's rich with ghee, garlic, ginger, coriander powder, chillies, peas and garam masala." From now on the kheema pau at Dishoom will be sans tomatoes.

Kyani and Co (JSS Road, Dhobi Talao, Kalbadevi) is a more convivial set-up, with prettily engraved dark-wood panelling, dappled mirrors, Scandinavian bentwood chairs and chipped mosaic flooring. As well as its confectionary and baked goods – almond sponges, wine-flavoured biscuits and decorative cakes – this place is known for its breakfasts, and has a long, rambling egg repertoire that includes paneer bhurjee (stir-fried eggs), mutton scrambled eggs, and the repellent-sounding "half fry egg".

"There's a tradition of bodybuilding in Parsi culture," says Kavi, "hence all the eggs." Sure enough, on the far wall are some sepia photos of triumphantly muscular Iranians. Amid students and locals we hoover up plates of the akuri, masala scrambled eggs, which are flecked with tomato, onion, turmeric, chilli and coriander, and dip our butter-soft brun maska into the chai.

Owner Farooq Shokri is the third generation of his family to run the cafe, taking over in 2000. He shows us a stained, concise menu from 1975 – pointing out how he's extended it to help cover the steeply rising rents – as well as a remarkable ink drawing of his father by the painter and film director MF Husain: relics that, like the cafe itself, it would be tragic to lose.

"I'm the only one left," says Shokri. "I don't think about what happens after me. I just carry on."

• The trip was provided by Dishoom (dishoom.com). British Airways (0844 493 0787, ba.com) flies from Heathrow to Mumbai from £499 return

Britain's curry houses are feeling the heat from supermarket competition. But can a shop-bought curry ever compete with its takeaway equivalent? To find out, Word of Mouth taste-tested a range of supermarket curries

First it was the pub, now another great British institution, the curry house, is under threat from supermarket competition. A recent report from consumer analysts NPD Group calculates that visits to ethnic restaurants and takeaways dropped by 123m between 2009 and 2012, with curry lovers increasingly turning to supermarkets as a cheap alternative.

"Ethnic food may not be perceived as the everyday good value it once was," concluded NPD's Guy Fielding, with commentators on industry website Big Hospitality suggesting that price isn't the only factor. At the lower end of the market, it is argued, curry houses are coasting, churning out the same oily, interchangeable Anglo-Indian dishes that they were in the 1980s, while the supermarkets have radically improved their product. One observer claimed that shop-bought curries are now "restaurant quality".

Can that be true? We asked several supermarkets to send us samples and put them to the test. These were generally boxed complete meals-for-two (usually comprising tikka masala and korma; which says a lot about what constitutes "curry" for we Brits). At about £6 to £8.50 they are cheap, compared with even bargain basement curry restaurants. But if the price is right, is the spicing? Do they genuinely compare with the bog standard British curry experience?

Tesco Indian Meal For 2 (1.5kg, £6)

This had the highest chicken content – 50% – of those tested, but Tesco's Thai chooks have all the flavour and texture of cotton wool. Studded with cardamom and cumin seeds, the rice is fragrant. The naan seems fluffy, but it's dry and lacks that trademark just-cooked sweetness. The bhajis have a deep-fried savoury edge, plenty of onion and a robust, nondescript spicing, but – and this was a theme – they are weirdly mushy. The chicken in the tikka has been "flame seared" but you would never know. The sauce is ho hum, a warmly spiced tomato concoction. The korma is much better, its rich sauce has a nice, cashew-nut flavour, the ginger and garlic coming through strongly.
4/10 Better than bog standard curry? No.

Marks & Spencer Indian Favourites (1.15kg, £8.49)

M&S use 40% Dutch chicken, which is much firmer. Very slight grilled colour to the meat in the tikka, and its sauce has a creditable spice kick. The flaked almonds in the korma are a nice touch texturally, but the sauce is bland, the use of coconut milk making it taste almost Thai. The naan is best in class: sweetish with a good oven-baked flavour. Its interior springy, its exterior firm, it tastes like something approaching the real deal, as does the pilau rice. Its spicing is rounded and fairly complex. The bhajis are terrible – tiny, miserable little doughy pucks, over-fried and over-spiced (with chilli pepper and jalapeños).
4/10 Better than a bog standard curry? No.

Waitrose Indian Takeaway For Two (1.2kg, £8.49)

Here, the 22% British chicken, while it might be native, is almost as paltry (boom tish!) as Tesco's Thai. The korma is dominated by its (desiccated) coconut flavours, but the spices punch through pleasantly at the end. The tikka is better, less creamy than others, the sauce has an earthy power, with a hint of BBQ in there and a warm, fulsome base spicing, which, thanks to some lemon oil and chopped coriander, tops out in a zesty freshness. I actually ate more of this than I strictly needed to, which speaks volumes. A pot of Bombay potatoes in a mild, fruity tomato sauce was, though not authentic, well-judged and aromatic. Unlike the pilau rice, which was meanly threaded with spices and tasted harsh. Black peppercorns seemed to be the primary seasoning in play. Tiny naans, like children's mittens, had a vinegary smell.
5/10 Better than bog standard Indian? The tikka, yes – marginally.

Assorted Sainsbury's meals

Sainsbury's wasn't able to send over its boxed meals (1.8kg, £10, and Taste The Difference, 1.456kg, £12). Instead, I had to suffer the Indian Snack Selection (£2.50), a collection of dried-out aloo tikka, anaemic, flabby samosa and tough little bhaji balls. The ingredient lists for all three go on for ever, but all I got was acrid chilli heat. Saag paneer (300g, £2) was inconsequential: squeaking, rubbery batons of paneer in a dull tomato-spinach sauce. Two biryanis (500g, £3.50, 23% British chicken) lacked sauce, sophisticated spicing and any of the layered luxury of that dish. Unexpectedly, though, Sainsbury's rogan josh (500g, £3.50) was the stand-out dish in this test. Its tomato sauce is inauthentic, but typical of many curry houses. The New Zealand lamb had real flavour and, despite its sweetness and rather ham-fisted heat, you could discern the cardamom, cloves and ginger doing good things in the background. King prawn makhani (500g, £3.50) was like eating prawns in Heinz tomato soup. Not awful, but not curry either.
4/10 Better than a bog standard curry? Rogan josh on a par, the rest no.

The conclusion? If you shop around (M&S rice and naan; Waitrose chicken tikka; Tesco korma; Sainsbury's rogan josh) you can assemble a serviceable curry, which will have a few notable things – less ghee, the price – going in its favour. There are, however, key items (naan, bhajis) that are never going to taste great out of a box. In general, supermarkets are struggling to keep pace, quality-wise, with even average curry houses.

Ultimately, if you've moved beyond korma, to freshly ground spices, slow-cooked sauces with real depth and differentiated dishes, then these won't cut the mustard (seed). Particularly when, if ordering a takeaway, you can spend a few quid more and eat exponentially better. Double up price-wise, and from Glasgow's Banana Leaf to Wembley's Kahari King via national chain Chennai Dosa, for about £5 to £8 a head, you can take home food of genuine vibrancy, rather than this ersatz Indian.

Do you support your local curry house? Or is the supermarket putting a little spice into your life?

As Singapore prepares to host the first World Street Food Congress – showcasing the best cuisine from trucks, vans and hawker stalls around the globe – we take a look at the finest the city has to offer in affordable dining

Eating out is everyone's favourite pastime in Singapore – one subject that enthusiastically unites the country's diverse population of Chinese, Malays and Indians.

Restaurants are open around the clock, and most of the time are packed to bursting point, serving some of the most delicious and varied cuisines in Asia.

Although this tiny island state now has a host of expensive gourmet venues linked to some of the world's most famous chefs, at its core is a vibrant culture of street food at very affordable prices. Singapore's love affair with hawker cuisine will be celebrated from 31 May to 9 June at the inaugural World Street Food Congress, a 10-day festival where 37 vendors from 10 countries will roll up to serve their dishes at the F1 Pit Building and Paddock, 1 Republic Blvd, at Marina Bay on the south-east of the island – including taco stands from Mexico, food carts from Malaysia, mobile kiosks from India and gourmet food trucks from the US, as well as participants from the host country and elsewhere.

As well as the street chefs and stalls, there will be food writers and street-food specialists, including American TV chef Anthony Bourdain and Claus Meyer, the co-founder of Copenhagen's Noma restaurant, three-time winner of the World's 50 Best Restaurants awards. The event will also host the first World Street Food Awards, intended to raise global awareness of the genre.

To whet your appetite, here's our pick of 10 of the best spots in Singapore to find great affordable food, from the hawker food centres, to the food courts of Chinatown, curry houses of Little India and cafes of Kampong Glam.

328 Katong Laksa

Katong is Singapore's old Peranakan neighbourhood, where the blending of Chinese ingredients with Malay spices and cooking created nyonya cuisine. It also forms part of the name of "328 Katong Laksa". This friendly coffee shop, run by a former beauty queen serves one of the best laksa soups you'll find – a delicious mix of spicy lemak coconut milk, prawns, cockles, tofu, beansprouts and noodles. A bowl costs S$4 (about £2) and hungry customers can also order traditional otak otak, a fish paste steamed in banana leaf, or nasi lemak, rice with crunchy anchovies, peanuts, cucumber and a wicked sambal sauce. There are lots of food shops along the road, selling sticky kueh cakes and barbecued honey-glazed pork.
• 51 East Coast Road, on the junction with Cylon Road, near the Hotel Grand Mercure

Andhra Curry

Little India, to the east of Orchard Road, is one of Singapore's liveliest quarters, with scores of reasonably priced restaurants, cafes and shops selling colourful silks, fragrant incense and glitzy bangles. Andhra stands out because of its psychedelic exterior – a kaleidoscope of garish colours. And though the speciality here is south Indian vegetarian dishes, it is also known for its Hyderabadi biryani, Mysore mutton (cooked with green chillies and coriander), a spicy fish pulusu (baked with tamarind and raw mango), and the great Singaporean favourite – fish-head curry (never a cheap dish, around £11). Main courses and vegetarian set menu from £4.
• 41 Kerbau Road, +65 6293 3935, andhracurrysingapore.com

Azmi Chapatis

The sign outside may read "Thye Chong Restaurant since 1941", but the Chinese owner of this ancient coffee shop has long leased out the premises to Muslim chefs, who make arguably the island's best chapatis. Two aged gentlemen share rolling and cooking duties, turning out a piping hot flatbread every couple of minutes. For chapati-dipping, there are about 20 curries to choose from, including classic mutton masala and the more challenging curried goat brain. Each chapati costs under 50p, with the curries priced from £1.50-£2.50
• 168 Serangoon Road, on the corner with Norris Road, opposite Kansama Restaurant

Tian Tian, Maxwell Food Centre, Chinatown

Everyone in Singapore has their own favourite Hainanese chicken rice stall. It's as close to a national dish as you can come, which is surprising given that it doesn't really come from the Chinese island of Hainan at all, but was invented in colonial Malaya by Hainanese chefs cooking for the British.

The recipe couldn't be simpler: tender steamed chicken, served slightly cooled, fluffy rice, sliced cucumber, coriander – and two key ingredients – a homemade chili sauce and bowl of chicken broth. Chinatown's Maxwell Food Centre, a converted 1950s market, has about a hundred tempting hawker stalls, but the longest queues are at Tian Tian, where a plate of chicken rice goes for less than £2, with some aficionados ordering just wings, claws or whatever goes into what the menu terms "spare parts".
• Stall 10, Maxwell Food Centre,1 Kadayanallur Street, tiantianchickenrice.com

Chinatown Complex Food Court

Signs tell tourists that Smith Street is "food street", and it's true that it's one of the few places where there are still old-fashioned hawker stalls lining the street at night. But for more exciting food, step into the dilapidated Chinatown Complex, which houses a brilliant wet (fresh food) market and buzzing food court upstairs. For once, this isn't sanitised Singapore, and customers take more notice of how delicious the cooking is than the hygiene rating. Satay Bee Hoon can claim to be a genuine Singapore invention, a fusion of Chinese and Malay influences, where delicate rice vermicelli, cuttle fish, cockles, pork and kangkong (water spinach) are smothered in a spicy, crunchy satay sauce, all for £1.50 a portion.
• Stall 02-112, Chinatown Complex food court, 335 Smith Street

Yu Kun Kaya

Singaporeans are big on nostalgia, typified by the crowds that sit out every morning at the shady terrace of the Ya Kun restaurant in the heart of Chinatown. Don't expect a traditional English fry-up on the menu, but a local breakfast that has been served since 1944 – the Kaya Toast set menu. For under £2 you get a plate of toast filled with kaya coconut jam, two very runny eggs (don't even think about asking for them to be more cooked) and a cup a dense coffee, magically filtered through a strange-looking sock device. They like to add a big dose of super-thick condensed milk – delicious but frighteningly sweet.
• 18 China Street, +65 6438 3638, yakun.com

Yum Cha

The narrow streets of Chinatown are crammed with restaurants, coffee shops and hawker stalls, but Yum Cha is hidden away on the first floor of an anonymous budget hotel, so it can come as a shock when you walk into a huge, noisy dining room. Although there is a tempting full menu – chili crabs, salted egg prawns, steamed pomfret – this is the place to come for dim sum. Portions are from £1.50, and the best are the delicate spinach prawn dumpling, beancurd stuffed with fish, "vegetarian" ham in tau pok (fried tofu), and crispy red bean paste with banana. Try to visit at the weekend when the restaurant reverts to the old-fashioned method of service, as waitresses weave between the tables pushing rickety trolleys filled with steamed goodies.
• 20 Trengganu Street, +65 6372 1717, yumcha.com.sg

Sabar Menanti

Kampong Glam is the lively Muslim part of downtown Singapore with everything from Moroccan couscous restaurants to shisha cafes, and even a halal Parisian bistro. But nothing beats this hole in the wall Sumatran eatery serving Indonesian nasi padang. You start off with a heaped plate of rice and then it is self-service, with around 20 Minankabau dishes to choose from – assam fish, sour gourd, smoked beef, jackfruit curry – with the price of your plate increasing depending on how much you heap on. Lunch will cost less than a fiver.
• 48 Kandahar Street, +65 6396 6919,

Annalakshmi

This vegetarian-only Indian restaurant could be the cheapest place in town to eat, because officially, there are no prices. It is a run by a charitable association, Temple of Fine Arts, that finances art, music and dance centres, and clients are asked to make a donation at the end of the meal of what they can afford. In practice, people usually leave S$15 for a generous buffet of gourmet vegetarian delicacies. The waiters and cooks are all volunteers, and their specialities are dosai filled with spiced potatoes and chutney, and oothappam (rice and lentil pancakes), topped with onions, fried cauliflower, chillies and yogurt. It's a very popular venue at the weekend, when a reservation is advised.
• Central Square, 20 Havelock Road, +65 6339 9993, annalakshmi.com.sg

Tiong Bahru Food Court

A short bus ride from the city centre, Tiong Bahru is where the earliest public housing was built in Singapore – very low-rise compared to today's skyscrapers – and the 1950s-style market houses a busy wet market on the ground floor and some of Singapore's best hawker stalls upstairs. This is like a flashback to the past, with a musician entertaining diners on an electric piano, and no one looking stressed or rushed. It is also the place to try a traditional preparation of lor mee, a delicious dish of thick yellow noodles served in a thick gravy, with fish cake, fried wonton, stewed pork and slices of ngor hiang (five-spiced meal roll). In the final moments of the cooking process, vinegar and minced garlic are added, giving a tangy, savoury taste. A bowl will cost less than £1.50 and is only served at breakfast and lunch.
• Stall 02-80, Tiong Bahru Food Court, 30 Seng Poh Road

What gave Rick Stein the idea that he was the man to reclaim Indian curry? And why hasn't he heard of Kolkata?

• Rick Stein's India on iPlayer

Last week, Brian Sewell complained that the BBC's factual programming was all travelogues fronted by celebs. Cue Rick Stein's India (BBC2), which opened with a couple of obligatory elephant shots, before cutting to a luxury houseboat where one servant was performing a headstand while another was playing the flute as the dawn rose on a picture-perfect lagoon. This was Rick's base from which he would explore the country and return to cook some of the dishes he picked up on his travels. Nice work if you can get it. For about the first time ever, I found myself in total agreement with Sewell.

Stein's self-appointed mission was to reclaim the reputation of the Indian curry from all those who thought it was just a prawn vindaloo to be washed down with three pints of lager. I'm not sure if there's much overlap between those who really do think the prawn vindaloo is the be-all-and-end-all of Indian cuisine and Stein's TV audience, but what became less clear the longer the programme went on was why Stein thought he was the right man to do it; he is best known for his seafood restaurants in Padstow and hasn't previously appeared to give India or its food much of a thought before he turned up there with a camera crew. He seemed especially surprised to find that Calcutta was now called Kolkata and that Madras was now Chennai.

"I hope you don't mind if I bring this up," Stein asked one of his food guides in Kolkata, "but do you find it offensive that the British refer to all Indian food as curry?" The guide said he was very glad that Stein had brought this up as Indians did find the generic name a little offensive. Whereupon Stein went on to refer to almost every dish as curry to keep things simple.

This apart, Stein was a hyper-enthusiastic traveller as he sampled both the street and restaurant food with a breathless commentary that included gems such as "plumptious prawns" and "mustard seeds are cases that encase …" He wasn't, though, a particularly challenging observer: neither his statement that "the most interesting thing about India is curry, first, second and last" nor his conclusion that all the poor people in Kolkata looked really happy were opinions that might be universally held.

Nor was he so interested in the cooking styles he learned that he could be bothered to attempt them back on the houseboat. Rather than experimenting with local culinary traditions – the women in the refuge added vinegar to their curry – and exploring different tastes, Stein chose to make his own versions of their recipes. So rather than serve up anything authentically Indian, Stein delivered food that had been adjusted for western tastes and which might be found at an Indian theme night at one of his Cornwall restaurants. Still, neither Sewell nor I can say we weren't warned: the programme was called Rick Stein's India, and that's what we got.

"There's treason afoot. Best keep your eyes open," said an extra employed to cart the most recent mound of stiffs away from the Vatican toward the end of The Borgias (Sky Atlantic), which began its third and final series. The advice was well-meant, but unhelpful. I had my eyes open throughout and I'm still not sure I followed everything that was going on: mainly because almost every scene was filmed in the near dark. This was a more convincing setting than that for Sunday'sThe White Queen (BBC1) – a comic hybrid of a Persil advert and a Vogue photo shoot for Tudor-boho chic, but one more conducive to playing murder in the dark than exposition: there are enough killings in the programme as it is, without having to worry if a character has been whacked by accident.

Still, if you've stayed with The Borgias for this long, you probably aren't too worried about keeping up with the plot as you got the basics long ago. Trust no one. Alliances made one minute can be toast the next, so just enjoy the ride. Last night's season opener took a while to get going as the first 25 minutes was taken up with the non-event of "would Pope Alexander VI [Jeremy Irons] survive the poisoning cliffhanger that ended the second season?" Once Irons had vomited theatrically, the mayhem was free to restart. He might take himself a wee bit seriously and his personal views may be decidedly dodgy, but I'd watch Jeremy in The Borgias rather than his son, Max, in The White Queen any day. Even though I can't always see him.

• Watch this: TV highlights

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The chef heads back to his roots in West Bengal for two of his mother's favourite recipes for new year

New Year's Eve is big in India, particularly in the cities, but more for social than cultural reasons. It's a friends thing – people go out and get drunk like they do everywhere else. New Year's Day is the one I have fond memories of. No matter where we lived, rural or urban, I always remember it as being a huge family day – almost as big as Diwali or Christmas. The nation takes a day off and families go out for picnics or to watch a movie and have a meal together. Food is always at the centre of the festivities.

When I was growing up, we lived in a small coal-mining community in West Bengal, 200 kilometres from Calcutta. On New Year's Day the mines would close. I remember going into the woods and laying out mats and picnic baskets. On this one day of the year, the men would do the majority of the cooking and the women would sit around playing games like tombola while the kids played badminton.

It was fascinating to watch the men cook, and the food would be very different: it was more al fresco and manly. They would roast aubergines on an open fire and turn that into a little crush called a chokha. My dad used to make littis, a hard bread stuffed with roasted chickpea lentils. Others would catch fish and fry them on a little coal fire and there would be a really spicy lamb or goat curry, which would require someone carrying along four or five kilos of goat – again, very manly – but if they tried to cook puris, the womenfolk would usually step in and save the day.

Later, at 18 or 19, I moved to Delhi, and now I spend the whole Christmas period with family in the UK, but my strongest memories of new years are still those early ones in West Bengal. At Diwali, which falls in October or November, the tradition is to go to as many people's homes as you can in the two-week period leading up to it. If you miss people out it's a faux pas, like dropping off someone's Christmas card list. Basically, it's two weeks of continuous parties, a vast festival: India's equivalent of Christmas. I particularly associate Diwali with sweet meats and desserts, which people exchange as gifts. Interview by Killian Fox

Old Delhi-style butter chicken

In the past 20 years, butter chicken has acquired the status of India's national dish. People all over India order it more than any other dish when they go out to eat. If she was having friends over, my mum would often make part of the meal and order in the butter chicken, because it's done to a good degree of consistency wherever in India you buy it. And it has universal appeal: if you had 20 people to dinner, it's very likely that 17 or 18 of them would be delighted with butter chicken.

It's a great winter dish because it's rich and creamy and tomato-y and it's got bite. The chicken is usually cooked on the bone so it's smoky and charred on the outside and moist and juicy on the inside. It's sweet, sharp, hot and sour, all at the same time. It all comes together to create something that's quite simply complete.

free-range young chicken (poussin) 2, each about 750g, skinned and cut in half along the backbone (or use 800g of boned chicken thighs cut into two)

For the marinade
Greek yoghurt 120g
ginger and garlic paste (equal parts) 2 tbsp
vegetable oil 1 tbsp
salt 1½ tsp
lemon juice of 1
red chilli powder 3 tsp
ground cumin 1 tsp
garam masala½ tsp

For the sauce
tomatoes 1 kg
water 125ml
fresh ginger 5cm piece, peeled, half of it crushed and half finely chopped
garlic cloves 4, peeled
green cardamom pods 4
whole cloves 4 or 5
bay leaf 1
red chilli powder 1 tbsp
butter 80g, diced
green chillies 2, slit lengthways
single cream 75ml
salt 1 tsp
dried fenugreek leaves 2 tsp, crushed
garam masala½ tsp
sugar 1 tbsp

First prepare the chicken. Make small cuts all over the chicken pieces with a sharp knife to help the marinade penetrate. Mix the yoghurt with all the other marinade ingredients in a deep bowl. Smear the cut chicken with the marinade, cover and set aside in the fridge for 10 minutes.

Cook the chicken in an oven preheated to 220C/gas mark 7 for 13-15 minutes. You may need to turn the pieces after 8-10 minutes so they colour evenly on both sides. The chicken should be not completely cooked at this point as it will be simmered for a few more minutes in the sauce. Cut the cooked chicken into smaller pieces, strain off the juices through a fine sieve; set aside.

For the sauce, slice the tomatoes in half and place in a pan with the water, crushed ginger, garlic, cardamom, cloves and bay leaf and simmer until the tomatoes disintegrate. Blend this broth with a hand-held blender and pass it through a sieve to obtain a smooth purée. Return to a clean pan, add the chilli powder and simmer for 12-15 minutes. It should slowly begin to thicken. When the sauce turns glossy, add the chicken and the reserved roasting juices. Then add a cup of water and simmer for 3-5 minutes until the sauce turns glossy again and the water is absorbed.

Slowly whisk in the butter, a couple of pieces at a time, and simmer for 6-8 minutes, until the chicken is cooked through and the sauce is beginning to acquire a glaze. Add the chopped ginger, green chillies and cream and simmer for a minute or two longer, taking care the sauce does not split. Stir in the salt, crushed fenugreek leaves and garam masala, then check seasoning and add the sugar. Serve with naan bread or pilau rice.

Mrs Singh's winter vegetable pilau

This is my mother's recipe for a vegetable pilau she makes on special occasions – it's usually reserved for important guests. On New Year's Day, she often makes this for us and orders a butter chicken from her local!

Traditionally in Lucknow and central states, there were many varieties of pilau, using several ingredients, many together. In fact, pilaus were considered to be even more exotic and special than biryanis which were often considered to be rough and ready.

The basic difference between boiled rice and pilau rice is not only the use of spices but also the method of cooking. Boiled rice may well be cooked with spices but the liquid in which it is cooked is drained away once the rice is cooked.

Pilau rice is prepared with spices, but the importance of using just the right quantity of water is paramount. All the water should be absorbed when the rice is cooked, meaning that the rice has more flavour and nutrients.

basmati rice 400g, washed in running water and soaked for 10 minutes
ghee 75g
bay leaves 3
black cardamom 4
cinnamon stick 1
cloves½ tsp
cumin seeds 1 tsp
red onions 2, finely sliced
carrot 1, peeled and diced into 1cm pieces
cauliflower 100g, cut into 1cm florets
turmeric 1 tsp
salt 4 tsp
frozen petit pois or garden peas 100g
raisins 2 tbsp
water 900ml
sugar 1 tsp
mint leaves 2 tbsp, shredded
fresh coriander leaves 10g, chopped

Soak the rice – this reduces the cooking time and prevents the grains from breaking while cooking. Take a thick-bottomed casserole, heat the ghee and add all the whole spices except for the cumin and allow them to crackle for a minute or so. Then add the cumin seeds and, when they splutter, immediately add the sliced onions and sauté for 3-5 minutes until they start changing colour. Now add the carrots and cauliflower and stir to mix well, reduce the heat and sweat for 2-3 minutes. Add the turmeric and salt and cook for another minute until it is mixed thoroughly. Now add the drained soaked rice and mix lightly and carefully, stirring to blend together all the ingredients. Take care not to over-work the rice as the grains may break. After a minute or so, mix in the peas and raisins.

To finish the pilau, bring the water to a boil in a separate pan, add the sugar, and keep covered. When the water is boiling, add to the sautéed rice and vegetable mix and bring to a boil again.

Gently stir at medium to high heat – too much handling can break the rice grains. When the water is nearly absorbed you will be able to see small holes on the surface of the rice. Now sprinkle over the mint and the coriander, cover the casserole with a tight-fitting lid, and reduce the heat to a minimum for 8-10 minutes, or put it in an oven at 125C/gas mark ½ for 10 minutes for the rice to finish cooking.

Cinnamon Kitchen: The Cookbook by Vivek Singh is out now (Absolute Press). To order a copy for £20, with free UK p&p, go to guardian.co.uk/bookshop or call 0330 333 6846

A spicy mushroom midweek meal

The recipe

Warm a few tablespoons of oil, or oil and a slice of butter, in a deep pan over a moderate heat, then add three chopped spring onions and a finely sliced chilli. Cook until the onion is soft then add 200g of chestnut mushrooms, cut into halves or quarters depending on their size. As soon as the mushrooms start to lightly brown, stir in 1 tbsp of your favourite curry powder, fry briefly, then add a 400g can of crushed tomatoes and its juice. Season generously and leave to simmer for about 20 minutes, watching carefully. Serve with warm naan, and if you wish, a little yogurt and mint. Serves 2.

The trick

Commercial curry powders vary in heat and flavour, so use one whose qualities you know and trust, or of course mix your own. If you want a creamy sauce, then mix in a couple of tablespoons of yogurt just before you serve. Once any yogurt is added remove from the heat, otherwise it will curdle.

The twist

Use paneer or aubergine instead of mushrooms. Make a slower, more complex version by starting with chopped shallots and grated ginger, allowing it to soften before adding the mushrooms. Add more liquid and cook for longer for a gentler, more mellow result. Introduce some appropriate herbs at the end of the cooking time, such as coriander and mint to brighten the flavour.

Email Nigel at nigel.slater@observer.co.uk

The co-owner of Gujarati Rasoi serves a delicious and nutritious Indian staple

In its Eat Well for Less series, OFM asked 10 chefs to make a meal for four whose ingredients cost £5 or less – barring items that would already be in the household cupboard, such as olive oil, soy sauce, dried herbs and spices.

This is a great balance of food groups and flavours. Dhal can be sumptuous and thick, rich with complex aromatic spices or incredibly humble using the most basic of ingredients and still tasting good. This basic dhal is a staple, it balances savoury, spicy, salty flavours with a hint of sweetness. It is very simple and tastes great with rice and easily makes a meal for four.

Indian food when made well can be nutritious, balanced, delicious and affordable. Aside from a few of the spices, it is time that is the hardest ingredient to find.

Serves 4

red lentils 250g
sunflower oil 3 tbsp
dry chilli 1
cumin seeds 1 heaped tsp
asafoetida¼ tsp
garlic ½ small bulb, sliced 1mm
onion½, finely sliced
turmeric½ level tsp
salt 2 level tsp (then add to taste)
ginger finely chopped 1½ heaped tbsp
green chilli 2, finely chopped (adjust to your taste)
dhana jeru (2 parts coriander seed, 1 part cumin seed) 3 heaped tsp
fresh coriander½ bunch (reserve a little for garnish), roughly chopped
tomatoes 100g, roughly chopped
jaggery (or sugar) 1½ level tsp (add less to begin with then adjust to taste)
garam masalo½ level tsp
 
rice to serve

TOTAL £4.89 Bought from Sainsbury's

Boil the lentils or dhal in a pan with 1.5 litres water, cook to the consistency you prefer and set aside.

For the vaghar (tempering spices): measure your spices and place on a plate for speed – the next part happens quickly so you need to be prepared. Pour the oil into a thick-based pan, large enough to take all the spices, onion and tomato and heat the oil over a medium/high heat. Add the whole dry chilli (this will infuse the oil with flavour) but do not let it blacken. Test the oil is hot enough by putting in 1 cumin seed – if it immediately fizzes and splutters it's ready. Add the cumin seeds – allow to splutter, then add the asafoetida and half the garlic, and allow the garlic to brown a little. Add the onion and allow it to become brown on the edges.

Add the turmeric, salt, ginger, green chilli, dhana jeru and quickly mix into the oil. Expect a burst of steam and flavour to come from the pan, catch it all by popping a lid on fast, remove the lid once it's calmed down and allow to cook until the oil separates from the mixture.

Add three-quarters of the coriander – it will cool down your "masalo" and stop it from burning. Add the tomatoes and jaggery and allow to cook for 5 minutes on a medium heat.

Transfer the whole lot into the pan with the cooked dhal and mix through. Add the remaining garlic, coriander and garam masalo and simmer for a further 5 to 10 minutes on a low heat. Taste and add extra chilli to your taste before serving.

Serve with long grain rice. Garnish each serving with a coriander leaf and a small knob of ghee or butter.

Gujarati Rasoi, Bradbury Street, London N16 8JN

Leicester's Golden Mile is one of the best places to discover Indian culture and food without leaving Britain. Marcel Theroux visits Bobby's, the oldest vegetarian curry house in the city, for a lesson in – and a taste of – Gujarati cooking

Karam Sethi, head chef at Trishna, London, makes an old family recipe, dum gosht biryani

Serves 8
Herdwick mutton shoulder and shank 1 kg cut into approximately 3.5cm dice
saffron threads a small pinch
onion paste 250g, blend onions into a paste in a food processor
ginger paste 50g ginger mixed with 1 tbsp water
whole black peppercorns 1 tbsp
cumin seeds½ tbsp
cloves 7
yoghurt 1 litre, whisked
black cardamoms 2, grind the seeds
ghee mixed with oil 85ml of each
long grain basmati rice 500g
water 284ml
salt to taste
milk 125ml
crispy fried onions to taste
fresh coriander and mint to taste

For the atta dough (to seal the pan, optional – alternatively, cook your mutton in a pressure cooker)
dry atta (chapati flour or wholewheat flour) – available from Asian stores 250g
water 125ml
oil 1-2 tbsp (optional)

Place the mutton in a large bowl with 1½ tbsp salt, the saffron threads, onion paste and ginger paste. Mix together and leave the mutton to marinate at room temperature for 2 hours.

Dry roast the peppercorns, cumin and cloves separately in a hot pan. Allow the spices to cool and then grind in a spice grinder or pestle and mortar.

Combine the ground spices with half the yoghurt and ground cardamom seeds and rub into the mutton before placing it in a heavy bottomed pan.

In a separate pan, heat three-quarters of the ghee and oil mixture and, once warm, pour it over the meat.

Wash the basmati rice by running it under cold water until the water is clear and leave to soak for 20 minutes. Then strain the rice and mix it with the remaining yoghurt, 284ml of water and two teaspoons of salt. Spread the rice mixture over the mutton in the pan.

To make the atta dough, if using, combine the flour, water and oil, then knead together to make a dough. Cover the pan with a tight-fitting lid and seal the edges with the atta dough to stop steam escaping. Alternatively, you can cook the mutton in a pressure cooker.

Cook the mutton and rice over a high flame for 10 minutes, then reduce the heat to a low flame for approximately half an hour. Uncover the dish and pour the remaining ghee and oil mixture over the top, before sprinkling the milk on to the rice.

Cover the mutton once again and cook for a further 15 minutes, or until the meat is tender and the rice grains have separated. Garnish with crispy onions, fresh coriander and mint.

trishnalondon.com

Vini Aujla of Rustic Indian left her job in the City to bring us the fresh flavours of real Punjabi cooking

My family is from a farming background in India and I've eaten Punjabi food my entire life. I grew up cooking in the kitchen with my mum and my nan, who always cooked everything from scratch.

I used to work in the City, but I'd been thinking about starting my own business for years. I'd realised that there were no fresh Indian sauces on the market. In Britain, people are used to Indian restaurant food, which uses a lot of ghee. Yet traditionally, Indian food is healthy and nutritious. I wanted to introduce an authentic range of fresh, rustic Punjabi sauces, and not anglicised at all. I also wanted to present them in a contemporary way, with innovative recipe suggestions.

My husband Bal thought I was crazy to contemplate making curry for a living, but after having my children, I decided to go for it. Now he's a partner in the business. The recipes I produce are the ones I grew up eating: the shahi is a mild and flavoursome cream-based sauce, and excellent for marinating meat. My father really loves the jeera, which goes well with red meat, chicken and fish, while the fiery mirchi is one of my own favourites: flavoursome rather than spicy. Punjabi food is not about the amount of chilli you can put in your curry, it's about how the spices are prepared and blended.

The authenticity and quality of the product is paramount, so my husband and I schedule one day every fortnight for production, helped by four staff. I can't find it in myself to pass that on to somebody else.

I love the way that people react when they try the sauces. We often hear, "Mmm, so this is what Indian food is supposed to taste like!" I really can't imagine doing anything else.

rusticindian.com

North Indian tandoori palak murghi (chicken spinach)

This is a classic recipe made in many Punjabi households. It's simple and gives excellent results each time.

Serves 4

400g natural yoghurt
2 tbsp tandoori masala
Juice of ½ lemon
700g of chicken breast, cubed
4 tbsp rapeseed oil
3 medium onions, finely chopped
2 garlic cloves, finely chopped
50g fresh ginger, finely chopped
1 fresh tomato, diced
1 sweet bell pepper, diced
400g tin chopped tomatoes
6 green birdseye chillies
4 cardamom pods
2 cloves
1 tsp coriander seeds
1 tbsp turmeric powder
100g spinach
Handful of fresh coriander, as garnish
Salt

1 In a large bowl gently whisk the natural yoghurt to give it a smooth consistency, add the tandoori masala and the lemon juice.

2 Cover the chicken in the yoghurt marinade and refrigerate for two hours.

3 In a heavy-based pan, heat the oil on a medium heat. Add the onions, garlic and ginger, and saute until golden brown.

4 Add the fresh tomato and pepper to the pan and cook until they begin to soften.

5 Add the tinned tomatoes, turn down the heat and allow the mixture to reduce until it turns darker reddish-brown. If it sticks to the pan, add a little boiling water.

6 Finely chop four of the chillies and add to the pan. Add the other two whole (this allows you to control the heat in your sauce)

7 Using a pestle and mortar, gently crush the cardamom pods and dispose of the outer shells. Add the cloves and coriander seeds and grind to make a basic masala mix. Add this masala mix to the pan along with the turmeric. Season to taste. The curry base is ready when it is of a thick consistency and the oil has risen to the top (this is achieved by keeping the sauce on a low heat).

8 Add the chicken and its marinade, along with the spinach, and cook on low heat for 20–25 minutes, until the meat is tender.

9 Sprinkle some coriander on top and serve with rice, naan or chapati.

Chicken tikka is a British favourite, but there's no need to resort to a ready meal or takeaway. Vineet Bhatia shows you how to marinade chicken in lemon juice, spices and yoghurt to create a delicious Indian kebab

This aromatic sauce is a delicious way to cook urid dal, or black lentils, says the winner of ITV's Food Glorious Food cookery contest

Serves 6

6-7 tbsp vegetable oil
1 medium onion, finely chopped
1 tbsp garlic and ginger, peeled and grated
2-3 fresh tomatoes, finely chopped
1 tsp chilli powder
1 tsp salt
½ tsp turmeric
1-2 tsp coriander seeds, finely ground
2-3 tbsp fresh fenugreek leaves, finely chopped
250g urid dal
Water (three times the volume of dal)
1 green chilli, halved lengthways
25g butter (optional)
1-2 tbsp fresh coriander, finely chopped
1-2 tsp jeera/cumin seeds, finely ground (optional)
½ tsp black peppercorns, finely ground (optional)

Heat the oil in a lidded pan on medium/high, add the onion and cover until it starts to soften.

Add the garlic, ginger and tomatoes and cook until the ingredients are soft and slightly brown.

Add the spices, stir and cook for a few minutes.

Add the fenugreek and allow to cook over a low to medium heat, stirring occasionally, until it has completely wilted.

Once the sauce has been cooking for approximately 10 minutes, add the dal and stir.

Turn up the heat, add a large splash of the water and stir. When the water has evaporated, add more and stir. Continue to do this for five minutes.

Add the rest of the water and the chilli (and the butter for extra flavour, if you like), bring to the boil and then turn the heat down low. Place the lid on the pan and allow to cook, stirring occasionally. Add more water if it all evaporates.

When the dal is soft with a hint of al dente and the thick consistency of risotto, it is cooked.

Add the fresh coriander and optional spices, and serve with roti, naan or rice.

Rahila Hussain, winner of ITV's Food Glorious Food cookery contest, shares her chickpea pilau rice recipe

(Serves 6-8)

450g basmati rice
4-5 tbsp oil
25g butter
1 small onion, finely sliced lengthwise
2-3 tsp salt
1-2 green chillis, to taste
4-6 whole black cloves
1 tsp coriander seeds
1-2 tsp jeera/cumin seeds
½ tsp back peppercorns
1-2 whole black cardamoms
3-5 green cardamoms
1-2 cinnamon sticks
Water (double the volume of the rice)
500g tinned chickpeas

Wash the rice gently in cold water until the water runs clear (this ensures all the starch is removed so the rice won't stick), then leave it to soak in cold water.

Put the oil, butter and onion in a pan and fry on a high to medium heat until the onions are very dark brown. Add all the spices and stir for a minute.

Splash in 1-2 tbsp of water, stir quickly, add the chickpeas and stir again. Add the remaining water and bring to the boil.

Taste the stock and add more salt if necessary – the rice will absorb the salt and once cooked it will taste milder. Add the rice gently and stir.

Bring to the boil then turn the heat right down and put the lid on. Wring a wet tea towel out, place over the pan and put the lid on (ensure the edges of the towel are not hanging down).

Allow the rice to cook for approximately 15-20 minutes. Stir carefully once. To see if it's ready, roll a few grains between your thumb and forefinger – if there's any hardness, steam it until it's soft.

Serve with curry or cucumber and mint yoghurt.

Rahila Hussain, winner of ITV's Food Glorious Food cookery contest, shares her tried and tested okra curry recipe

Serves 6

450g okra
6-8 tbsp sunflower oil
1 medium to large onion, finely sliced lengthwise
1 small bulb garlic, finely chopped or ground
1 tsp red chilli powder
1/2 tsp turmeric
Cumin/jeera seeds, finely ground, to tasteSalt
1 or 2 green chillis, sliced lengthwise

Wash the okra, drain and then chop into ¾ inch pieces. Heat the oil in a large non-stick pan, then saute the onions until they start to turn golden in colour. Add the garlic and continue cooking until the onions have browned. Add the spices and stir for 30 seconds.

Cook the okra in the oil on a medium heat in a separate pan until slightly tender, then add the green chilli (remove the seeds with a teaspoon if you prefer less heat).

Add the okra mix to the onions, stir through well and leave to cook on a low heat with the pan uncovered. Stir occasionally so the mixture does not stick. Cook until the okra is nice and tender. Serve with naan, pitta or roti.