Mutton Kofta Curry

A Dish My Father Loved

Mutton Koftas—minced meatballs simmered in a rich, spicy gravy—were one of the special dishes my mother made when I was growing up. I remember the aroma filling our home, the warmth of the kitchen, and my father savoring every bite with quiet joy.

For me, it was a dish I liked, but never craved. It wasn’t something I’d ask for on my birthday or during celebrations. But for my father, it was comfort food. If you asked him to name a favorite, I’m certain Kofta Curry would be near the top of his list.

Even though it wasn’t my personal favorite, it became special because of him. It’s funny how food does that—how a recipe becomes a memory, a connection, a tribute.

Koftas: A Journey Through Empires and Kitchens

Koftas—minced meatballs seasoned with spices—have traveled far and wide, leaving their mark on countless cuisines. Though their exact origin is hard to pin down, the word kofta comes from the Persian kufta, meaning “to pound” or “to grind”—a nod to the preparation of the meat2.

While early Arab cookbooks featured lamb koftas glazed with saffron and egg yolk, it was the Mughal Empire that brought this dish to the Indian subcontinent, transforming it into a rich, spiced curry. In India and Pakistan, koftas evolved into a variety of gravies—bland, spicy, creamy—each tailored to regional tastes and ingredients.

Today, koftas are beloved across the Middle East, Balkans, Central Asia, and North Africa. From Turkish köfte to Greek keftedes, Moroccan lamb koftas to Indian nargisi kofta, each version tells a story of cultural exchange and culinary creativity.

Whether grilled, baked, or simmered in gravy, koftas remain a dish of comfort and celebration. And in your kitchen, Haala, they carry the added weight of memory—your father’s joy, your mother’s touch, and your own evolving relationship with the dish.

🍖 Bangalore Kofte: A Recipe Rooted in Love and Reinvention

After we got married, Mr. Parveez introduced me to Bangalore Kofte—a dish made with minced mutton, seasoned with spices, gently steamed, and then fried to perfection. These koftas are often served on their own, or paired with a warm parantha or roti. In our family, they’re a cherished part of Eid-ul-Adha celebrations, loved by everyone at the table.

Learning to make them was more than just mastering a recipe—it was a moment of connection, a passing down of flavor and tradition. But as my culinary journey unfolded, and I began exploring new dishes and revisiting familiar ones, I found myself drawn to reinterpret the flavors I grew up with.

So I returned to the kofta, this time through the lens of Kofta Curry—infusing it with the spices, textures, and stories I’ve gathered along the way. It’s a dish that reflects not just where I come from, but how far I’ve come.

And now, I’m sharing it with you. Because every recipe carries a memory, and every bite is a step in the journey.

Preparing the Mutton Koftas

Start with minced mutton and grind it further to achieve a finer texture. This helps the meatballs hold together better and gives them a smoother finish.

To this, add a flavorful paste made by blending fried onions, ginger-garlic, fresh coriander leaves, and a slice of bread. A spoonful of roasted chickpea flour goes in as well—both the bread and the flour help absorb excess moisture, making the mixture easier to shape.

Mix in your spices and ensure everything is well combined. Cover the mixture and refrigerate for about 20 minutes. This resting time allows the flavors to meld and makes shaping the koftas much easier.

The koftas shouldn’t be too spicy, or else the spicy koftas served with the spicy gravy become hard to handle. This dish might look difficult, and you might find the steps a little tedious to follow if you are a beginner, but if you follow the steps correctly, you can make this dish easily.

Cook’s Note

When preparing koftas, balance is key. If the meatballs are too spicy and the gravy is equally bold, the dish can become overwhelming. A gentle hand with the spices allows the flavors to complement each other rather than compete.

This recipe may look a bit intricate at first glance, especially if you’re new to cooking. The steps might seem tedious—but trust the process. If you follow each stage with care, you’ll find that it’s absolutely achievable. The result is a dish that’s rich, comforting, and deeply satisfying.

Good food isn’t about shortcuts—it’s about patience, intention, and love. And this dish is worth every bit of it.

Maa’s Tikka Boti

As the name suggests, this recipe comes from my Mother.

🥘 Maa’s Tikka Boti: A Taste of Home and Bombay’s Irani Cafés

At my mom’s place, it’s simply called Tikka Boti. But for me, it’s Maa’s Tikka Boti—a dish that carries the warmth of her kitchen and the flavors of a memory she brought back from Bombay. Years ago, she visited an Iranian café tucked into the bustling streets of Mumbai. That experience stayed with her, and somehow, it found its way into our family’s food.

This recipe is a tribute to that moment. It’s bold, smoky, and deeply satisfying—perfect for non-vegetarians who love their meat tender and their spices unapologetic. And while kheema paav from those cafés holds a special place in my heart, it’s this tikka boti that feels like home.

A Roll, A Memory: Maa’s Chicken Creation

It started with a bite in Bombay—my mom, on vacation, tried a chicken roll at an Iranian café. She couldn’t ask for the recipe, but she carried the flavor home in her memory. What followed was years of trial, intuition, and love. Her version became a dish I adored, but it was never made casually. It was reserved for get-togethers, for moments when her effort would be acknowledged, when the kitchen’s heat—literal and emotional—felt worth it.

Growing up in Rajasthan, cooking wasn’t just about ingredients. It was about navigating 45°C summers in kitchens without air conditioning, stretching resources, and still managing to create something unforgettable. That chicken roll wasn’t just food—it was her triumph.

Maa’s Chicken Roll – A Taste of Home, Made Simple

From my mother’s kitchen to yours, this roll is a tribute to flavor, memory, and love. Inspired by an Iranian café in Bombay and perfected over years of intuition, this dish is rich, satisfying, and surprisingly easy to make.

🧄 Ingredients:

  • Boneless chicken (250g), marinated in ginger-garlic paste, red chili powder, turmeric, and salt
  • Onions, thinly sliced
  • Green chilies, chopped
  • Freshly ground spice mix (dry roasted and blended)
  • Ghee or oil for cooking
  • Rotis (store-bought or homemade)
  • Eggs, whisked with a pinch of salt

🔥 Method:

  1. Marinate the chicken for at least 30 minutes.
  2. Cook the chicken with onions, chilies, curry leaves, and your spice mix until semi-dry and aromatic.
  3. Prepare the rotis: If using store-bought, spread whisked egg on one side and fry on both sides until golden.
  4. Assemble the roll: Place the chicken filling inside the egg-fried roti, roll it up, and serve hot.

🍽️ Serving Suggestion:

Perfect for get-togethers or cozy dinners. Pair with mint chutney or a simple salad for a complete meal.

Is this dish different from Kathi Roll?

Exactly—and that’s the beauty of regional food traditions. Even dishes that seem similar on the surface, like rolls or wraps, carry distinct identities shaped by technique, texture, and taste 🌯✨.

Kathi rolls, especially the Kolkata-style ones, often use a flaky, layered paratha that’s pan-fried with egg poured directly onto it while cooking—creating a rich, crisp exterior. The filling is typically spicy chicken or paneer, accompanied by onions and sauces that add tang and heat.

My mother’s version, inspired by an Iranian café, sounds more delicate and home-style—less about street food flash and more about depth and comfort. The egg-brushed roti is a clever adaptation, and it gives the roll a softer, more tender bite compared to the crispiness of a Kath roll.

I appreciate both for what they are. Would I ever consider writing a piece that compares these two styles—my Maa’s roll and the Kathi roll—as a way to explore how food reflects place, memory, and innovation? I’d love to do that someday, maybe.

This isn’t just me sharing the love of this dish, but the memories with my mother and the love she poured into everything she cooked, and the flavor I always feel, no matter how hard I try, is never like hers. I guess that’s how we all are with food cooked by our mothers.

This dish is great for school/office lunches, and an easy road trip lunch/dinner.

Andhra Shrimp Dry

Shrimp seem to be everyone’s favorite. But my first bite was a disaster. I was eight, visiting family friends in Mumbai—Bombay, back then. They served shrimp curry for dinner. The flavor was mild, almost timid, but I hated it instantly. One bite in, and I was running to spit it out. Right there, I swore I’d never touch shrimp again.

That promise held for years. Growing up in Jodhpur, seafood was never really on the table. Fresh catch was a rarity, and shrimp didn’t exist in my world at all.

It wasn’t until my early twenties, back in Mumbai with my parents, that everything changed. My father took me to a small restaurant in Juhu and ordered tandoori shrimp. Reluctantly, I tried it. Oh my God—what a revelation. Smoky, spicy, charred just right. In a single bite, all those bitter childhood memories were erased. I was in love. To this day, I thank my late father for insisting I give shrimp a second chance.

Years later, after I married and moved to the U.S., shrimp became more than a dish—it became a staple. As Muslims, our meals were halal or seafood, and shrimp quickly took center stage. I started experimenting in my own kitchen: pasta tossed with shrimp, sandwiches, wraps, rolls. Before long, I was simmering shrimp curries and skewering shrimp kebabs. Each new recipe felt like another chapter in a love story that had once begun with such a rocky start.

One of my favorite ways to cook shrimp now is Andhra style. It’s spicy, crispy, and absolutely delicious. I go heavy on curry leaves, mustard seeds, and dried red chilies, layering in all those bold flavors. The result is a dish that’s simple to make but bursting with character. It pairs beautifully with daal chawal—comfort food elevated by a punch of heat and crunch.

Laal Maas

Laal Maas is a traditional dish from my hometown, Jodhpur, with roots that trace back to the royal kitchens of the Rajput families. It was once considered a prized specialty, often prepared using game meat brought back from royal hunts. Bold, fiery, and deeply flavorful, the dish reflected both the adventurous spirit of the Rajput warriors and their love for rich, robust cuisine.

Over time, Laal Maas has remained immensely popular. From the royal kitchens, it gradually found its way into restaurants across Jodhpur, where chefs continue to prepare it in their own distinctive styles—introducing subtle variations while still honoring the essence of the original recipe.

This version is my personal interpretation, inspired by the many places where I have tasted Laal Maas and the flavors that stayed with me long after the meal. Interestingly, many people outside Rajasthan assume that Laal Maas is a common everyday dish in non-vegetarian households, particularly among the Muslim community. In reality, it belongs to the royal culinary heritage of Jodhpur and is more closely associated with the Rajput kitchens than with daily home cooking.

When preparing this dish, I prefer to lightly boil the mutton before starting the curry. This step helps reduce the overall cooking time and allows the meat to absorb the spices more effectively, resulting in tender, juicy pieces of mutton infused with flavor in every bite.

Traditionally, Laal Maas is cooked in generous amounts of ghee—something Rajasthani cuisine takes great pride in. The richness of ghee adds a distinctive depth and aroma that defines the dish. However, I usually combine a little oil with the ghee, as cooking entirely in pure ghee can feel quite heavy by today’s standards. Of course, if you want the most authentic experience and are not worried about the calories, feel free to prepare it entirely with ghee. And if you prefer a lighter approach, you can cook it with oil and simply finish with a teaspoon of ghee for that signature aroma.

Despite its bold reputation, this recipe is relatively straightforward to prepare and approachable even for beginners—while still delivering the rich, unforgettable flavors that make Laal Maas such an iconic dish.

This recipe is relatively easy to make and can be prepared by beginners, with truly delicious flavors.

Paav Bhaaji

For me, Pav Bhaji is not just a dish — it’s a memory, a time capsule that takes me straight back to childhood.

I still remember when the Pav Bhaji trend first arrived in my town. I was in elementary school, and almost overnight it became everyone’s favorite food. The rich aroma, the buttery pav, the vibrant, spicy bhaji — it felt exciting and new, like a taste of a bigger world arriving in our quiet little city. My whole family fell in love with it instantly, especially me.

I never got to experience it the way many people did — standing at a bustling roadside stall, eating straight off a hot griddle. I always wanted to, but in the small town where I grew up, it wasn’t considered proper for women to eat at street-side vendors. It sounds like something from another era, yet it wasn’t that long ago — just a few decades. Writing about it now, I’m amazed at how much my town has changed since then. The transformation is exciting, but also a little unsettling.

Small towns have a magic of their own. Life moves slower, people are warmer, and relationships feel closer. Back then, I could walk down the street and run into dozens of familiar faces — neighbors, shopkeepers, school friends, distant relatives. Today, I might still see just as many people, but that easy sense of connection feels softer, almost faded. Progress brings many good things, but sometimes it quietly takes a few precious ones away too.

Since I couldn’t go to the stalls, my father would bring Pav Bhaji home as takeaway, and those evenings felt like celebrations. We would gather around, tearing into buttery pav, scooping up the spicy bhaji, savoring every bite. Eventually, my mother began recreating it at home using store-bought Pav Bhaji masala, and soon her version became just as beloved. Over time, she developed her own blend — simple, balanced, and deeply comforting. It’s the same masala I still use today, and every time I cook with it, it feels like bringing a piece of her kitchen into mine.

I’ve made Pav Bhaji countless times over the years, and it never loses its charm. My mother liked to add a variety of vegetables — cauliflower, carrots, peas — making it wholesome and hearty. I, however, prefer a simpler version with just potatoes and bell peppers. Somehow, that minimal approach brings me closer to the bold, buttery street-style flavor that first captured my heart.

The pav in this recipe are homemade too, and they’re surprisingly easy to make. If you follow the steps carefully, you’ll be rewarded with soft, pillowy buns that rival any bakery version. Of course, these buns are wonderful with many dishes, but paired with bhaji, they become something truly special.

For the best experience, slice the buns in half, spread a generous layer of butter, sprinkle a little Pav Bhaji masala, and toast them on a hot tava or pan until golden and fragrant. That simple step transforms them completely — crisp on the outside, soft on the inside, and infused with buttery spice.

Some foods nourish the body. Others nourish the heart. For me, Pav Bhaji does both.

Click and make your own Paav at home

Homemade Buns / Paav – Haala’s Dastarkhaan

Chicken Veggies oven special

With all the different kinds of foods that we consume, at times you just feel that your tummy needs a break. You feel you need more veggies, less oil, fewer carbs, in all just a healthy meal. But, the problem that people like me face is that we also need something that tastes scrumptious and good along with all the health benefits.

Specially, if you have children as demanding as mine, you basically fight a battle. When the demand is to make veggies look more appealing and to make their protein go leaner without them noticing. That’s when dishes like this are invented.

This Chicken is marinated with spices making it flavorful. The spices can always be switched or played around with. I added Tandoori powder and Red chili powder to make the flavors a little more spicy, but you can always reduce the quantity or omit the spices altogether. I find this a great recipe for easy lunch and dinner.

Bangalore Muslim Kheema

Kheema curry can be prepared in countless ways, each region and family giving it a personality of its own. Growing up in Rajasthan, the kheema I knew was always my mother’s — simple, comforting, and almost always reserved for picnics and long road trips. She would typically make Kheema with aaloo (potatoes) or Kheema with matar (peas). What I never saw in her kitchen was a version loaded with multiple vegetables together.

I do remember her mentioning that my grandmother liked adding cauliflower to kheema, though I don’t recall ever tasting it myself. And to be honest, I’ve never attempted it either — mostly because Mr. Parveez isn’t a fan of cauliflower. Some culinary traditions quietly skip a generation, especially when family preferences step in.

Then there were the unforgettable versions from our travels. In Old Delhi, near the Jama Masjid area, we would wake up early just to enjoy a hearty breakfast of kheema served with hot tandoori roti. Sometimes it would be accompanied by nahari or paaye — rich, slow-cooked dishes that could turn any ordinary morning into something special. Another favorite that captured my heart was Mumbai’s Kheema Paav, with its slightly tangy tomato base, often made with chicken, and served with buttery toasted buns. Those breakfasts are memories I still cherish, and recipes for both the kheema and the paav will be coming soon.

But the recipe I’m sharing here is completely different from all of those. This one comes from Mr. Parveez’s family — a style of kheema commonly prepared in many Bangalore Muslim homes. Passed down from his mother, we fondly call it “Ammi wala Kheema,” because it carries her unmistakable touch and warmth.

The preparation begins with finely chopped onions slowly sautéed in oil or ghee along with fragrant whole spices. Ginger-garlic paste follows, then the goat kheema, ground spices, and tomatoes. What truly sets this version apart, however, is the generous addition of vegetables — potatoes, beans, fresh fenugreek leaves, and dill leaves — all simmered together until the flavors meld beautifully. The herbs add a depth and freshness that makes this dish both hearty and uniquely aromatic.

Although it’s traditionally enjoyed as a breakfast dish, this kheema is wonderfully versatile. It tastes just as delicious for lunch or dinner, served with roti, bread, or even rice. Comforting, wholesome, and deeply rooted in family tradition, this “Ammi wala Kheema” is more than just a recipe — it’s a piece of home on a plate. 🍲✨

Kolkata Chicken Roll

Chicken rolls have always been a favorite in our home. Those of you who follow my blog know how much I love wraps of all kinds — whether it’s a classic chicken roll, a burrito, or tacos. I think this love goes back to my mom. During one of her trips to Mumbai, she tasted Mutton Tikka Boti Rolls at a Parsi eatery and later recreated them at home. They were an instant hit with the entire family, and from that point on, rolls became a regular comfort food for us.

So when I came across pictures of the famous Kolkata Chicken Roll, I knew I had to try making it. The flavors sounded irresistible — bold, layered, and packed with personality. From everything I’ve read, it’s one of Kolkata’s most iconic street foods, loved for its rich taste and satisfying simplicity. Although I’ve never visited Kolkata, there’s something about its food culture that deeply attracts me. Some places just connect with you through their cuisine, even from afar.

Recipes like this are wonderfully fuss-free and incredibly practical. For those of us living far from our home country, food becomes a powerful way to stay connected to our roots. At the same time, dishes like these are perfect for kids — easy to eat, nutritious, and ideal for busy days or meals on the go.

I grew up loving my mom’s Tikka Boti Rolls. She initially made them with mutton, but later switched to chicken as well, and I adored both versions. I’ve always appreciated recipes that travel well — perfect for road trips, long drives, or those moments when hunger strikes and stopping isn’t an option. Not every journey allows for leisurely restaurant breaks, and sometimes you’re just stuck in traffic after a game or a long day. That’s when homemade rolls like these truly shine — convenient, filling, and deeply satisfying.

For this version, I marinated boneless chicken with salt, ginger-garlic paste, lemon juice, and yogurt. The spice blend includes dried fenugreek leaves, tandoori masala, red chili powder, cumin powder, and fennel powder, creating a beautifully aromatic base. The chicken can be marinated overnight for deeper flavor, but even a quick 30–45 minute marinade works well when time is short.

This recipe may not be an exact replica of the rolls you’d find on the streets of Kolkata, but after many trials and countless variations, this is the version I keep coming back to. One element I borrowed from my mom’s technique is spreading a thin layer of beaten egg onto the roti and cooking it before adding the filling. I’m not entirely sure how this differs from traditional Kolkata egg rolls, but I do know that it adds richness, texture, and a wonderful depth of flavor.

Ultimately, this recipe is a blend of influences — my mother’s cooking, flavors I’ve loved over the years, and my own experiments in the kitchen. The result is a chicken roll that feels both familiar and new, comforting yet exciting.

I hope you try it, enjoy it, and share it with your loved ones — just as my family and I do. 🌯✨

Lobster Curry

My love for Lobster Curry began in 2012, during our first visit to Kerala. We stayed on a houseboat in Alleppey, surrounded by the serene backwaters and blessed with the most perfect weather. It was around Christmas time — truly the best season to visit Kerala. During our stay, our hosts served an array of traditional Kerala dishes, especially seafood prepared in rich, aromatic coconut gravies. That’s where I tasted Lobster Curry for the very first time which I loved — and it was pure magic.

I had tried Lobsters before at several seafood restaurants, but they were always mildly cooked and flavored with nothing more than garlic and salt. The Lobster Curry in Kerala, however, was beyond my expectations — rich, flavorful, and absolutely unforgettable. The houseboat had three men who managed everything — from cooking to cleaning and maintenance — and they did it all with such warmth and care. Our time there remains one of the best vacations we’ve ever had. The weather, the calm of the backwaters, the walks surrounded by lush greenery, and the incredible hospitality made every moment truly memorable.

After tasting that unforgettable Lobster Curry, I just had to ask for the recipe — and our gracious host gladly shared it with me. Though the recipe was more of a rough guide than exact measurements, it was enough for me to understand the essence and recreate this wonderfully delicious dish back home.

The original recipe was cooked in coconut oil, but I made mine using olive oil since I don’t usually cook with coconut oil. I honestly don’t think it changes the flavor too much — it just makes the dish a little less “coconuty.” Since I still add coconut milk, the curry retains that perfect balance and richness that complements the rest of the ingredients beautifully. I did make a few other changes too, so I can’t really call this an authentic Kerala dish anymore — it’s more of my inspired version of it.

When I order lobsters for home delivery—which is, of course, the preferred option these days—I clean them myself. But if you’re picking fresh ones at a fish market, you can always ask them to crack the claws and cut the lobsters in half for you. I usually parboil the lobsters with a little turmeric powder and salt; it helps get rid of any musky smell.

To make the curry, I start by heating oil and adding black seeds (kalonji) and curry leaves, followed by finely chopped onions. Once the onions turn soft and transparent, I add ginger-garlic paste along with all the spices and some fennel powder. I find fennel powder brings a lovely freshness, especially to seafood dishes. Next, I pour in the coconut milk—or coconut purée—and tomato purée, stirring until everything blends together beautifully. Finally, I add the lobsters and let them simmer gently for about 10–12 minutes, until the curry thickens and the flavors come together perfectly.

The Lobster Curry might look complicated, but honestly, it takes less time to prepare than a regular chicken curry—and it looks absolutely stunning on the dining table. The best part is that this same recipe works wonderfully with crab too; just substitute the lobster for crab, and you’re good to go. I truly hope you enjoy cooking this dish and love it as much as my family and I do!

Chicken Reshmi Seekh Kebab

Reshmi is an Indian word used for “silk”. Reshmi Kebab are silk textured, soft, juicy and delicious kebabs made with minced meat or chicken from the Mughal Kitchen. As the name depicts, Reshmi Kebab is juicy succulence of meat added to the skewers. The meat has to have a perfect texture thanks to the marinade in which it is soaked.

The problem with seekh kebab that usually happens is that it goes dry if the marinade isn’t good enough. A good marinade for seekh kebab cannot be too saucy or it will be hard to hold the seekh shape and it cannot be too dry or the seekh would not taste so good. As much as you have to be careful about the ingredients that go into the dish and a lot of times, I see people messing it up with the seekh breaking mid way while being cooked, the process is simple. A few tricks and you are good to go.

In this recipe, I added a paste of fried onions. Onions by itself release water when added to a dish so the best way to add onions to a dish when you want the flavor and fear the dish getting excess moisture is by frying the onions. The process of frying onions dries up the moisture. The fried onions also tend to get a little sweeter so, make sure you adjust the spices accordingly. When you grind the coriander leaves with mint leaves and chilies, make sure that you don’t add too much water. In fact, add water a drop at a time and avoid if not needed. The green paste doesn’t really have to be a paste, it can be roughly chopped paste.

If you follow the recipe properly, you will be able to achieve a perfect seekh kebabs and trust me, these ones are to die for. They are perfect, juicy and absolutely delicious. Enjoy!!!