Suraiya Chaudhry remembers her family’s healing recipes, and the magic that can be found in the kitchen spice cabinet.
Illustration © Suraiya Chaudhry
Every so often, I return to the Indian shop in North London that I used to go to with my mum. I’m comforted by the smell of powdered spices and fresh coriander, and the memories of walking the aisles with my mum and nani-ma (my mum’s mum). Nani-ma is the cooking goddess, and I fondly remember her sitting in the living room with a tray in lap, deftly skinning garlic and ginger with a kitchen knife whilst overseeing her four rambunctious grandchildren. Now, she has arthritis and diabetes and can’t cook, but her biryani and kulfi are still unrivalled.
In the Indian shop, I pick up haldi (tumeric), garam masala, chilli powder, and saunf (fennel seeds). I notice the other people drifting through the aisles, putting different ingredients in their baskets depending on which region of India or Pakistan they are from. In this shop there is no whiff of Partition; it is a safe space for all the sub-continent's people, a haven from being called a fucking Paki. My family are Punjabi Muslim, our ancestral homelands in India, but they had to flee to Pakistan and Kenya during the massacres of The Partition, as did Hindus and Sikhs on the other side. Despite running from one uprising to another, with the troubles in Kenya leading them to eventually settle in the UK, my family has held onto its herbal remedies and traditional recipes, though they are now interspersed with lots of pasta and pizza nights (Punjabi people love a carb). The use of plants and herbs as remedies was once scorned by mainstream Western medicine, but there is now mounting scientific evidence to support the use of natural cures. A clove of garlic won’t cure everything, but it can definitely help with certain ailments.
The first thing I open when I get home from the Indian shop is the saunf (fennel seeds). I cut the plastic packet and pour the seeds into an old jam jar, dropping a few pinches into my mouth as I go. The taste is very bitter and earthy, an acquired taste, but if you can bear it, I thoroughly recommend saunf for Irritable Bowel Syndrome and upset stomachs. It is one of the few things that helps settle my IBS and acid reflux, because it works to relax muscles. As children, if we had stomach bugs, my mum would give us saunf pani (fennel water). It is less strong than eating the actual seeds—you just boil water and mix it with the saunf, then drink it when it has slightly cooled. Add drops of Ribena or sweet fruit squash for fussy children. You can also get mita saunf (sweet fennel—sugar and E-number coated) but I don’t recommend this unless you want all your teeth to fall out! There is some strong scientific evidence to back the health benefits of saunf, as it is high in antioxidants, vitamins and contains selenium, an anti-inflammatory that improves immune function. Its effect as a muscle relaxant can also help soothe period pain.
Recently, I had a horrible cold or flu that I just couldn’t shake. For weeks I had a sore throat and blocked nose and ears. I was complaining to my dad on the phone, when he reminded me what my dadi-ma (dad’s mum) used to do. If any of her children had flu-like symptoms, she would make really spicy food for them to sweat out the fever. I never really put stock in this remedy, but fed-up of being ill, I ordered some very spicy grilled Pakistani food. I sweated, my nose ran continuously whilst I ate, and to my surprise, I woke up the next morning feeling better than I had in a fortnight. The science says this worked because chilli contains capsaicin, which is a decongestant and anti-bacterial. Capsaicin is also used as an analgesic ointment for muscle pains and sprains. Chillis are packed with vitamin C, with half a cup of chopped chillies containing far more vitamin C than an orange.
One of my favourite scents is that of fresh garlic and ginger, peeled and then blended before being put in jam jars and kept in the fridge. My mum would then add these to whatever fresh foods she was making that week, and I now do the same. In the West, I’ve seen a lot of jokes about dreaded garlic breath, but that shouldn’t be a problem if you cook the herb into dishes properly, and mix it with other flavours. It was only as an adult that I realised the health benefits of ginger and garlic, foods I had been raised on, after seeing a wealth of articles touting them as ‘superfoods’. Garlic is an antifungal and antibacterial herb that has been used in remedies for around 5000 years. In World War I, garlic was used as an antiseptic to treat wounds. It is rich in calcium, iron, potassium, vitamin B6 and C. Garlic has also been proven to lower cholesterol and therefore reduce the risk of heart disease. Ginger contains gingerol, a chemical compound similar to capsaicin, that is both antioxidant and anti-inflammatory. Ginger has been shown to alleviate chronic indigestion, nausea and period pain.
I remember how annoyed I used to be when the haldi in my mum’s cooking would stain my fingernails as a child. If I had known how good haldi was for my health, and that high street café chains would start selling turmeric shots for extortionate prices, I would have slathered it on the rest of my body too. Haldi goes into most Punjabi dishes, and the health benefits are well reported. It contains curcumin, which has strong anti-inflammatory and antioxidant properties. Some initial studies have also shown that curcumin may be able to prevent the growth of cancerous cells. For a cold or sore throat, my mum would melt butter in a saucepan, mix in haldi, then add milk to simmer and saffron. Once warmed and all mixed together, pour into a mug for a soothing drink, and add sugar if you need, to help with the taste.
Interestingly, some scientific studies have shown that Indian and Pakistani people have lower rates of stomach cancers, which could be to do with diet. That hypothesis needs to be more rigorously tested and explored, but in the meantime, I will continue to use herbs and home remedies that I find beneficial to my health, in conjunction with standard Western medicines. This is also what my family has always encouraged, using a mix of Eastern and Western medicines and foods. This fills your diet with diversity (great for your gut) and as the saying goes ‘variety is the spice of life’.
Recipe: Uzma Chaudhry’s Red Dahl Dish
To be eaten with some roti
You will need:
500g red lentils
Fresh garlic
Fresh ginger
Salt
Red chilli powder
Haldi (turmeric)
Ground coriander powder
Jeera (cumin) powder
A handful of small mixed colour tomatoes
Fresh coriander
Vegetable oil
Water.
Step 1: Melt a few tablespoons of vegetable oil in a saucepan.
Step 2: Add 4 cloves of chopped garlic, and a knuckle of chopped ginger and fry until golden.
Step 3: Add a mixture of dry spices, pouring in 1 teaspoon of salt, ¾ teaspoon of red chilli powder, ¾ teaspoon of haldi, ½ teaspoon of ground coriander and ½ teaspoon of jeera powder. Cook until the spices are lightly browned.
Step 4: Add a handful of chopped small mixed colour tomatoes and 1 green chilli chopped in half. Stir them until they are lightly browned and coated in the spices and oil.
Step 5: Add in 500g of red lentils and mix them thoroughly with the spices and tomatoes.
Step 6: Add enough hot water to completely submerge the lentils, and a bit extra. Bring to the boil and then let simmer for 20-25 minutes. Add more water if the lentils absorb a lot, the trick is to keep the mix thick and rich but not stodgy.
Step 7: Take a teaspoon of the mixture to check the lentils are cooked all the way through, they should be soft and mushy with no hard centres.
Step 8: Right at the end of the 20-25 minutes, add washed and chopped coriander leaves, stirring them into the mix.
Step 9: Ladle out into bowls and enjoy with some roti!