“Spicy” is a much overused and often badly deployed word. It is used in the context of describing the flavour of a dish to which spice has been added but is such a generic word that it often tells us little about what we are going to taste. I understand it is necessary to let unsuspecting diners know that a dish has spices in it but, in the case of Indian food, I think that is a given. Spices all have distinct flavours; earthy, sharp, musty, citrusy, tangy, peppery, pungent, hot and even herb-like.

A spiced dish can be strong and bold but also as subtle as sorcery. More is not always better but neither is less; it is about harmony. A master blender can create flavours that leave those who are lucky enough to sample his art baffled, in awe and green-eyed with envy. I can almost see him in his colourful laboratory, mixing, blending, tasting, cursing and clearing his work surface with a decisive, destructive sweep of his hand. And then silence as he sits in focused contemplation amid a dejected cloud of colourful smoke floating to the floor.

I have never met such a man but urban, or rather, rural legends abound. One such story exists about a man who created a tantalising blend of spices for mutton. His stall on a busy motorway in Punjab soon gained so much fame and custom that many tried to copy and pirate the flavours of the dish but with little success. The raconteur of this story was one of them who admitted failure in his culinary espionage and decided instead to strike a deal with the stall owner and has been buying the blend and cooking the dish ever since, naming it after its creator, Mutton Belliram.

But what is a spice and why is Indian food riddled with spices? Spice is the collective term given to a dried ingredient that adds flavour and aroma to a dish when used in small quantities. It could be a seed (mustard seeds), a fruit (dried mango powder), a root (turmeric), bark (cinnamon) and even flower stamen (saffron) to name a few. The fresh product does not qualify, so fresh turmeric that can be made into a dish would be considered a vegetable not a spice. The folklore is that ancient sages understood the properties of these little gems and wove them into the cuisine so that Indians would benefit from constant consumption of these “superfoods”. There is no way of substantiating these myths and I don’t really want to but sometimes it does seem the only commonality in Indian food from across the country is its consistent use of spices. And modern science continues to discover their hidden health properties even as others fervently believe they have little to offer other than flavour.

But that is not new, spices have always provoked passion. Wars have been waged, lands discovered, countries conquered and cities built in the endeavour to attain these gems of the food world. Once the spice route was born it became one of the most travelled of its time and spices were brought into Europe by the truckloads. Love them or hate them, they are here to stay. When it comes to spices I am Indian through and through. They add life and colour to simple ingredients. Consider some classic pairings, spinach and nutmeg, saffron and rice, cloves and cinnamon and cooked fruits, green cardamom with anything milky and black pepper with everything. Am I biased? Definitely. Am I wrong? It depends on who you ask; I know what Christopher Columbus or Vasco De Gama would have said.

When it comes to Indian food, the number of spices can be confusing and sometimes off-putting but the truth is you really don’t need more than a handful to cook up delicious meals from scratch. These basic spices are cumin seeds, turmeric, coriander, garam masala and red chilli powders. Once you have these, it is optional as to whether you buy the extra bits that an Indian might have such as black and green cardamom pods, cloves, cinnamon and mustard seeds. These whole spices are more versatile than the blended garam masala, last for years and are worth buying.

While it is always best to buy whole spices we have become creatures of convenience and powdered spices will do the job just fine. They will last well enough but will not have the same depth of flavour as whole spices and when the quality is not great, they are sometimes little more than flavoured powders. The best way of learning spices is in the kitchen. So here is my recipe for rustic North Indian chicken curry that uses both whole and powdered spices. If you only have the powdered ones that is fine, it will still be delicious. The best way to get the most out of your whole spices is to fry them in hot virgin oil until the start to sizzle, crackle and release their aroma. The powdered spices are cooked over a low flame or with a liquid ingredient to prevent them from burning which renders them bitter. For this curry use tomatoes that are cheap cooking tomatoes as they will have a necessary sour element, if not you may need to add a squeeze of lemon juice in at the end. Do not be afraid of the amount of garlic, once cooked down it does mellow. This recipe has been in my family forever and old friends seeing this recipe will recall ending Saturday nights at my house where we would raid the fridge in search of leftovers of this curry which we would eat with buttered toast as we minutely dissected the evening, as only girls can do.

North Indian Chicken Curry

Serves 6-8

3-4 tbs. oil

7 cloves

1 large shard of cinnamon

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