My family lived in India when I was a teenager. My father consulted at the University of Delhi, my mother, Jan, taught French at the international school in New Delhi, and I attended that international school.
It was an odd time for Americans in New Delhi. India and Pakistan were at war, as they often are, and the United States generally supported Pakistan rather than India.
Nevertheless, we had lots of Indian friends: artists, musicians, educators and civil servants. They didn’t blame us for our government’s policies.
My mother must have had friends in the American embassy as well because at one point someone from the embassy asked her to take care of a young American woman — I’ll call her “Lisa” — who needed some help.
Lisa had come to India all by herself, like many young people before and after her, looking for a spiritual home. Unfortunately, she didn’t know very much about life in developing nations, and she had become ill.
One of the appeals of going to India for her had been the rich vegetarian cuisine; she didn’t eat meat.
Unfortunately, she didn’t know the basics of vegetarian cooking, and she hadn’t been able to consume enough protein. She needed to be “fed up,” as my mother put it. She also needed a little feeling of home.
We provided that feeding and that feeling. I had never had an older sister and enjoyed spending time with Lisa. And my mother nursed her back to health and taught her about nutrition.
One of the first things my mother explained was the convenience of Dal, also spelled “Daal” or “Dahl.” Dal has a couple of meanings. First, it means dried, split pulses like lentils. It also means the delicious stew-like food one makes with the pulses.
Combine Dal with rice — even white rice, which is what most people in India eat — and you get a complete protein. That is, you get all the amino acids necessary for nutrition.
Yes, you can — and should! — add additional vegetables and fruits for complete nutrition, but beans and rice are a great start. I will certainly never suffer from a lack of protein, even during the times when I don’t eat a lot of meat, because I love rice with beans and rice with Dal in particular.
Dal is flat-out delicious, especially when prepared the way Devidin, our cook in New Delhi, put it together.
I never actually watched Devidin make Dal. I did go with him and my mother a couple of times to a giant warehouse to purchase Dal.
There, thousands — for all I know, millions — of lentils could be found in enormous piles, much taller than the average person. The market was colorful — lentils come in a variety of hues — and a great deal of fun to visit.
My favorite colors for lentils were yellow and red; they seemed to suit New Delhi, which is a vibrant city on which the sun shines a lot of the year.
The city is loud and fun and colorful, full of people bustling through life but also enjoying leisure. My mother wrote a poem called “Delhi’s Streets,” which starts, “India is on the move.”
So, when I decided to make my own Dal last week, I looked for yellow or red lentils to reflect the colors I recalled.
Unfortunately, none of my local grocery stores had either color, and I had to resort to ordering from the internet. I ended up with red lentils, which were actually a sort of salmon color.
By the time I cooked them, they had lost most of their color, but I knew they were red/salmon, and I felt as though I could taste the color.
I do miss the giant piles of lentils in India, but since I live alone, a pound of these pulses sufficed. I used a cup of the pound, which contained about 2-2/3 cups, so I’ll be able to make Dal again soon.
I wouldn’t call this an authentic Dal recipe. It does contain most of the flavors I remember from my youth, however. Dal is made in many, many ways in different parts of India, so it’s possible someone there makes it exactly like this, rendering my recipe authentic.
Authentic or not, this dish made me happy. I hope it makes my readers happy, too.
Dal
Ingredients:
1 cup split lentils (or non-split if that’s what you can find!)
water as needed
1/2 teaspoon salt plus more salt later
1 to 2 teaspoons cumin seed (I used 2 because I love the flavor of cumin.)
a splash of cooking oil (peanut oil, canola oil, even olive oil if that’s all you have)
1 teaspoon butter
1 small onion, diced
1 clove garlic, minced
1/2 teaspoon minced ginger
2 heaping teaspoons garam masala or curry powder
a few red pepper flakes
2 heaping tablespoons chopped tomatoes with their liquid (I used Rotel brand, which has green chiles added; in summer you could use fresh, juicy tomatoes.)
a splash of freshly squeezed lemon juice
cilantro for garnish (optional)
Instructions:
Place the lentils in a 3- to 4-quart soup pot. Rinse them three times by adding water, pouring the water gently into the sink (so as not to lose the lentils), and then adding more water and trying again. If you try to drain the tiny lentils in a colander, they may fall through the cracks. A little extra water is fine.
At the end of the last draining, add 3 more cups of water to the pot, along with 1/2 teaspoon salt. Bring the lentils to a boil, and simmer for 15 minutes or so, until the beans soften and most but not all of the water has evaporated.
The lentils may well generate foam while cooking; skim off as much as you can, but don’t be obsessive.
If you are using whole lentils, you may need to boil them longer and add a little more water eventually.
While the beans are cooking, place the cumin seeds in a stainless-steel sauté pan. Toast them over low heat, stirring frequently, until they begin to smell lovely. Toss in the oil and butter.
When the butter melts, add the onion, the garlic, and the ginger. Sauté until the vegetables soften and brown slightly; then toss in the garam masala, the red pepper, and another 1/2 teaspoon salt. When the mixture dries out a bit, add the tomatoes and stir.
Toss the spice mixture into the cooked lentils. If there is still spice sticking to your sauté pan, add a little more tomato liquid (or just water), and heat and stir to loosen the spice; then add the spiced liquid to the pot of Dal.
Cook for a couple of minutes. Taste, and add salt as needed. Just before serving, add the lemon juice. It brightens the flavor of the Dal.
Serves 4. Serve with rice and/or naan (Indian flatbread). I purchased my naan, but I’m thinking about trying to make it soon. I’ll let you know how it comes out!
“Delhi’s Streets”
by Jan Weisblat
India is on the move.
It is bullock carts and tongas —
Horses and buggies with one seat facing rear.
Bicycles, three abreast on the main streets.
Men, pulling carts of furniture,
And small boys, riding father’s bullock cart
At three miles an hour,
Driving home from market
Smiling at sudden manhood.
Taxis and scooter cabs
Zipping along on three wheels,
Open to the breezes.
Buses with people oozing from the doors
And trucks with OK TATA written on the back.
Scooters and bikes whizz by
Each carrying its extra lady passenger
Saried and combed,
Leaning into the wind.
Tinky Weisblat is an award-winning cookbook author and singer known as the Diva of Deliciousness. Visit her website, TinkyCooks.com.