Karen Anand’s book ‘Masala Memsahib’ tells culinary stories from five Indian states

In her latest book, Karen Anand spotlights the stories behind classic and lesser-known dishes from Goa, Gujarat, Kerala, Maharashtra and West Bengal

While recipe books are published at an alarming regularity, one cannot deny their connection with culture, communities and culinary traditions. Food commentator Karen Anand compiles many such stories in her latest release, Masala Memsahib: Recipes and Stories from my Culinary Adventures in India. Goa, Gujarat, Kerala, Maharashtra and West Bengal’s culinary traditions come together in this photo-laden book,where recipes are interlaced with stories. “Stories are more important than recipes. While the latter can only indicate how a dish is made, the culture and community from which those recipes emerge are crucial parts of what I have done over the years as a culinary writer,” says Anand. A self-professed ‘Masala Memsahib,’ Anand can be tongue-in-cheek about her stories but steadfast in telling people how there’s more to a state’s cuisine than just the classics they are known for. Here are excerpts from a chat with The Established: 

What inspired you to approach this book from the perspective of culinary cultures instead of just recipes? 

I've enjoyed books by food writers like Claudia Roden and M.F.K. Fisher, who brought so much more to food writing than just recipes because they were intrinsically writers. I have wanted to do something with Indian food for a long time–something that has not been done before. This book is a collection of recipes and stories I've collected over the time I've been involved in food in India for over 30 years.

Tell us about the process of compiling this book?

I've been building a repository of recipes and stories, thanks partly to a reasonably good memory. There were many stories in the various publications I wrote for, that only the people I wrote about would remember. But I've been writing since the late 1980s; so while the information was already there, I decided to give it form. It's a cultural history. I don't consider myself a chef, although I do cook. But I document very well. And then I try out the recipe, and because of my writing, I can also translate it in a way that a layperson can follow. Secondly, I'm fairly meticulous about trying recipes twice or thrice before they work. It was only because of the COVID-19  pandemic that I could sit down in one place for nine months and have the time to work on it.I then approached somebody who said they could put me in touch with an agent.

How did you decide on the book’s name?

Here’s what came to mind: something that would be interesting, something that would be me and a fun title that people would remember. I thought I was a bit of a “memsahib” sometimes, in a tongue-in-cheek way. And “memsahib” also means that I run my own business. I just came up with the name one day, thinking it would be a fun one to have for a book.

Which of your favourite stories have gone into the book from your travels and documentation from across five states? 

If you look at the most memorable meals at the end, there wasn’t enough space for them in my book. I’ve had some great meals in Coorg, many in Rajasthan. If there were 10 chapters, I could choose one or two, but it isn’t easy because there are only five. Of course, Goa is close to my heart because I’m from Goa, and there’s always this great debate about the best Goan curry and whether there is a Goan curry at all. So I’ve tried to make it personal. 

There are also people that you talk about in the book. Why did you think that would add context? 

I’ve gotten most of these recipes from people I have come across many years ago, apart from some family members. I have been lucky enough to have three TV series; the first one (Good Food Guide for the erstwhile Star TV) documented my travels around the country—looking for recipes. So we’ve only got about 110-120 recipes. I could have done 300 but I chose only the best.

In Goa, you have the vindaloo and another recipe from my grandmother. You know exactly where somebody comes from in Goa by the recipe for their pork curry, for example, or the recipe for their recheado. I go to Calcutta often, and there’s a doodh maach recipe that even Anjan Chatterjee (food entrepreneur), whom I’ve worked with in the past, said he didn’t know. It belongs to certain families and not others. I have also tried to put in some classics, like the dudhi roast. These are simple recipes that are from homes and not necessarily from restaurants. The prawn malai curry and gondhoraj fish (from Chatterjee) are quite well-known, but the others aren’t. The doodh maach is a simple recipe that I got from a blogger couple who shot the photographs for the book. I always didn’t want to do just a book on recipes but also add stories and photographs. Since I am a writer first, it was challenging for me. 

You’ve mentioned earlier that you don’t identify as a chef. From that perspective, what do you think about recipes? Are they the touchstone for making dishes?

Chefs work hard to get where they are. Nowadays, some people call themselves chefs without putting in the work, which doesn’t sit well with me. Though I have also trained in kitchens and restaurants, professional chefs undergo rigorous training for years to get to the position of a chef, which is why I do not identify as one. 

My talent lies in cooking and documenting recipes for the future. When I get into the kitchen, I’ll see what I feel like doing with recipes. Some people like experimenting with recipes for savoury dishes, some with sweet. A recipe is an indication, and then you can do what you want to with it.

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