New Year's Eve is big in India, particularly in the cities, but more for social than cultural reasons. It's a friends thing – people go out and get drunk like they do everywhere else. New Year's Day is the one I have fond memories of. No matter where we lived, rural or urban, I always remember it as being a huge family day – almost as big as Diwali or Christmas. The nation takes a day off and families go out for picnics or to watch a movie and have a meal together. Food is always at the centre of the festivities.
When I was growing up, we lived in a small coal-mining community in West Bengal, 200 kilometres from Calcutta. On New Year's Day the mines would close. I remember going into the woods and laying out mats and picnic baskets. On this one day of the year, the men would do the majority of the cooking and the women would sit around playing games like tombola while the kids played badminton.
It was fascinating to watch the men cook, and the food would be very different: it was more al fresco and manly. They would roast aubergines on an open fire and turn that into a little crush called a chokha. My dad used to make littis, a hard bread stuffed with roasted chickpea lentils. Others would catch fish and fry them on a little coal fire and there would be a really spicy lamb or goat curry, which would require someone carrying along four or five kilos of goat – again, very manly – but if they tried to cook puris, the womenfolk would usually step in and save the day.
Later, at 18 or 19, I moved to Delhi, and now I spend the whole Christmas period with family in the UK, but my strongest memories of new years are still those early ones in West Bengal. At Diwali, which falls in October or November, the tradition is to go to as many people's homes as you can in the two-week period leading up to it. If you miss people out it's a faux pas, like dropping off someone's Christmas card list. Basically, it's two weeks of continuous parties, a vast festival: India's equivalent of Christmas. I particularly associate Diwali with sweet meats and desserts, which people exchange as gifts. Interview by Killian Fox
Old Delhi-style butter chicken
In the past 20 years, butter chicken has acquired the status of India's national dish. People all over India order it more than any other dish when they go out to eat. If she was having friends over, my mum would often make part of the meal and order in the butter chicken, because it's done to a good degree of consistency wherever in India you buy it. And it has universal appeal: if you had 20 people to dinner, it's very likely that 17 or 18 of them would be delighted with butter chicken.
It's a great winter dish because it's rich and creamy and tomato-y and it's got bite. The chicken is usually cooked on the bone so it's smoky and charred on the outside and moist and juicy on the inside. It's sweet, sharp, hot and sour, all at the same time. It all comes together to create something that's quite simply complete.
free-range young chicken (poussin) 2, each about 750g, skinned and cut in half along the backbone (or use 800g of boned chicken thighs cut into two)
For the marinade
Greek yoghurt 120g
ginger and garlic paste (equal parts) 2 tbsp
vegetable oil 1 tbsp
salt 1½ tsp
lemon juice of 1
red chilli powder 3 tsp
ground cumin 1 tsp
garam masala ½ tsp
For the sauce
tomatoes 1 kg
water 125ml
fresh ginger 5cm piece, peeled, half of it crushed and half finely chopped
garlic cloves 4, peeled
green cardamom pods 4
whole cloves 4 or 5
bay leaf 1
red chilli powder 1 tbsp
butter 80g, diced
green chillies 2, slit lengthways
single cream 75ml
salt 1 tsp
dried fenugreek leaves 2 tsp, crushed
garam masala ½ tsp
sugar 1 tbsp
First prepare the chicken. Make small cuts all over the chicken pieces with a sharp knife to help the marinade penetrate. Mix the yoghurt with all the other marinade ingredients in a deep bowl. Smear the cut chicken with the marinade, cover and set aside in the fridge for 10 minutes.
Cook the chicken in an oven preheated to 220C/gas mark 7 for 13-15 minutes. You may need to turn the pieces after 8-10 minutes so they colour evenly on both sides. The chicken should be not completely cooked at this point as it will be simmered for a few more minutes in the sauce. Cut the cooked chicken into smaller pieces, strain off the juices through a fine sieve; set aside.
For the sauce, slice the tomatoes in half and place in a pan with the water, crushed ginger, garlic, cardamom, cloves and bay leaf and simmer until the tomatoes disintegrate. Blend this broth with a hand-held blender and pass it through a sieve to obtain a smooth purée. Return to a clean pan, add the chilli powder and simmer for 12-15 minutes. It should slowly begin to thicken. When the sauce turns glossy, add the chicken and the reserved roasting juices. Then add a cup of water and simmer for 3-5 minutes until the sauce turns glossy again and the water is absorbed.
Slowly whisk in the butter, a couple of pieces at a time, and simmer for 6-8 minutes, until the chicken is cooked through and the sauce is beginning to acquire a glaze. Add the chopped ginger, green chillies and cream and simmer for a minute or two longer, taking care the sauce does not split. Stir in the salt, crushed fenugreek leaves and garam masala, then check seasoning and add the sugar. Serve with naan bread or pilau rice.
Mrs Singh's winter vegetable pilau
This is my mother's recipe for a vegetable pilau she makes on special occasions – it's usually reserved for important guests. On New Year's Day, she often makes this for us and orders a butter chicken from her local!
Traditionally in Lucknow and central states, there were many varieties of pilau, using several ingredients, many together. In fact, pilaus were considered to be even more exotic and special than biryanis which were often considered to be rough and ready.
The basic difference between boiled rice and pilau rice is not only the use of spices but also the method of cooking. Boiled rice may well be cooked with spices but the liquid in which it is cooked is drained away once the rice is cooked.
Pilau rice is prepared with spices, but the importance of using just the right quantity of water is paramount. All the water should be absorbed when the rice is cooked, meaning that the rice has more flavour and nutrients.
basmati rice 400g, washed in running water and soaked for 10 minutes
ghee 75g
bay leaves 3
black cardamom 4
cinnamon stick 1
cloves ½ tsp
cumin seeds 1 tsp
red onions 2, finely sliced
carrot 1, peeled and diced into 1cm pieces
cauliflower 100g, cut into 1cm florets
turmeric 1 tsp
salt 4 tsp
frozen petit pois or garden peas 100g
raisins 2 tbsp
water 900ml
sugar 1 tsp
mint leaves 2 tbsp, shredded
fresh coriander leaves 10g, chopped
Soak the rice – this reduces the cooking time and prevents the grains from breaking while cooking. Take a thick-bottomed casserole, heat the ghee and add all the whole spices except for the cumin and allow them to crackle for a minute or so. Then add the cumin seeds and, when they splutter, immediately add the sliced onions and sauté for 3-5 minutes until they start changing colour. Now add the carrots and cauliflower and stir to mix well, reduce the heat and sweat for 2-3 minutes. Add the turmeric and salt and cook for another minute until it is mixed thoroughly. Now add the drained soaked rice and mix lightly and carefully, stirring to blend together all the ingredients. Take care not to over-work the rice as the grains may break. After a minute or so, mix in the peas and raisins.
To finish the pilau, bring the water to a boil in a separate pan, add the sugar, and keep covered. When the water is boiling, add to the sautéed rice and vegetable mix and bring to a boil again.
Gently stir at medium to high heat – too much handling can break the rice grains. When the water is nearly absorbed you will be able to see small holes on the surface of the rice. Now sprinkle over the mint and the coriander, cover the casserole with a tight-fitting lid, and reduce the heat to a minimum for 8-10 minutes, or put it in an oven at 125C/gas mark ½ for 10 minutes for the rice to finish cooking.
Cinnamon Kitchen: The Cookbook by Vivek Singh is out now (Absolute Press). To order a copy for £20, with free UK p&p, go to theguardian.com/bookshop or call 0330 333 6846
