As someone born and raised in Britain, but deeply connected to my Indian roots, I’ve grown up surrounded by two cultures—and nothing bridges those worlds quite like food.
As a British-born Indian, one of the most common questions I get asked is, “What are some basic Indian dishes you can suggest?” Now, I understand where the question comes from—people want something approachable, something they can order without being overwhelmed. But there’s always a pause when I hear that word: basic. Because to anyone who has grown up around Indian food or has a deep understanding of its history, “basic” feels like a misstep.
The truth is, Indian cooking is anything but basic. It’s a cuisine that’s built on complexity—layers of flavours, spices, textures, and techniques that go far beyond what meets the eye. Even the simplest dishes carry stories, cultural significance, and deep culinary roots. Like any cuisine, these dishes carry personal or family recipes, often passed down through generations. So when someone asks me to explain a "basic" Indian dish, I feel like I’m being asked to condense centuries of history, geography, and artistry into something easy to digest—and that’s simply not possible.
The Spice Symphony
Let’s start with the spices. Indian food is synonymous with its vibrant spices, but to dismiss these ingredients as just a part of a recipe overlooks the mastery involved in using them. Indian cooking doesn’t just rely on throwing a handful of spices into a pot and calling it a day. The timing of when spices are added is crucial. Whole spices are bloomed in hot oil to release their essential flavour and fragrant oil, creating a foundation for flavour. Ground spices are often added later to build depth. And each spice brings something unique: cumin adds earthiness, turmeric offers warmth and colour, and garam masala layers in complexity at the very end.
Take a dish like a daal; seemingly simple, just lentils, right? Wrong. That comforting bowl of lentils is a symphony of spices—ginger, garlic, cumin seeds, dried chillies, and hing (asafoetida)—each playing its part in perfect harmony. Depending on the region, that same bowl of daal could take on entirely different personalities. In North India, you might find a creamy, slow-cooked dal makhani, rich with butter and cream. In Gujarat, it is often known to feature jaggery or sugar as well. In South India, daal could be transformed with curry leaves, mustard seeds, and a hint of coconut. It’s the same core ingredient, but the way it’s dressed and presented varies in infinite ways. How could anyone call that basic?
Even Street Food Is Complex
Even street food, which some might consider “basic,” is anything but. A plate of chaat—a medley of crisp fried dough or puri's, spiced chickpeas, tangy tamarind chutney, cooling yoghurt, and fresh herbs—is a perfect example of the complexity hidden in what seems like a humble snack. Chaat is a celebration of contrasts: sweet and sour, crunchy and soft, spicy and cooling, all in one bite.
Samosas, often dismissed as just a simple fried snack, are another example. Sure, they’re available everywhere, but making a good samosa requires skill. The pastry has to be perfectly crisp and flaky, not too thick, not too thin. The filling, a spiced mixture of potatoes, peas, and onions, must be flavorful enough to stand on its own but balanced to complement the chutneys it’s served with. This level of attention to detail isn’t what I would call “basic,” and anyone who’s tried to make a perfectly crisp samosa from scratch will tell you the same.
Every Dish Carries a Story
One of the reasons Indian food can never be reduced to something basic is because it carries centuries of history with it. India’s cuisine has been shaped by waves of migration, trade, colonisation, and cultural exchange. The Portuguese brought us tomatoes, chillies, and potatoes, which are now staples of Indian cooking. The Mughals introduced rich gravies, dried fruits, and nuts to North Indian cuisine. South Indian dishes carry the influence of coastal trade with the Arabs, Persians, and later, Europeans. Each ingredient has its own backstory, and the way they come together in Indian dishes is nothing short of remarkable. When you eat Indian food, you’re not just tasting a dish—you’re tasting history, geography, and culture. Even in the simplest of recipes, there’s a deeper context that connects us to the past, to the land, and to the people who created these flavours.
The Real Meaning of “Basic”
So, when someone asks me about “basic” Indian dishes, I usually respond with a smile and say, “There’s no such thing.” But then I gently guide them towards a few dishes that are easier to approach if you’re new to Indian cooking. I might suggest a simple urad ni dal or a vegetable curry, knowing full well that even these “simple” dishes contain layers of flavour and craftsmanship. I understand that people are looking for an entry point, something familiar. But I always try to leave them with this thought: Indian food is as vast and diverse as the country itself, and there’s nothing truly basic about that. In truth, Indian food, from whichever region you choose, demands patience, respect, and an openness to experience flavours that are far more than the sum of their parts. It’s not just about following a recipe, it’s about understanding the ingredients, the spices, and the techniques that have been honed over generations. So while I’ll never dismiss anyone’s curiosity about Indian food, I do hope they come away with an appreciation that there’s so much more to explore beyond the notion of “basic.”
After all, Indian cooking is an art—and like all great art, it deserves to be savoured, not simplified.
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