Browsing through some Indian cooking blogs, I came across a Bengali dish from Bong Mom's Cookbook that looked so delectable I could almost feel my eyes water as the pungent mustard rose to the back of my nose. There was a catch though: the dish was fish-based.

I couldn't pass up that fragrant sauce, so I started considering how to adapt this for vegetarian consumption. Sandeepa first fried the fish, and I thought that step an integral part of the recipe, creating the wonderful texture. In a flash of inspiration I had the answer - the typical Andhra dry fry potatoes (bangaladumpa vepudu) would be ideal for this dish. (Well, I am sure it exists in many of the other regional cuisines, but I know it as an Andhra dish of course.)

Once I figured out that bit, the rest was simply a case of following the remainder of Sandeepa's recipe.

Continuing the browsing through Bong Mom's Cookbook, I came across an intriguing recipe for "Tetor Dal" or Bitter Dhal. Sandeepa's recipe calls for bottle gourd and bitter gourd; none of us are over-fond of kakarakayi - especially not the six year-old. We do however love akakarakayi - kantola - which has a similar texture when prepared the right way, and has a hint of bitterness though nowhere near as much as kakarakayi proper.

In preparing the recipe, I made three further changes: first, we had some fresh ridge gourd, but no bottle gourd, so I substituted that; second,because we love the taste and texture of crispy fried akakarakayi I fried up an extra handful that we lightly salted and added to the pappu at the table; last, we found the recipe upon completion to be quite liquidy. Our pappu preparations are usually a bit thicker than that, so I put it in a kadhai and reduced it a little over heat.

When we make this recipe again (and believe me, this one is a keeper), I will not reduce it quite as much, trying for the happy mean.

One of our favorite breakfasts is a poha and potato pulihora, so when we were browsing through the JFI for Rice roundup on Sharmi's blog, Neivedyam, there was one preparation that loudly called out: "Make me, taste me!"

This turned out to be Raji's Puffed Rice Upma or Maramaralu Upma from Talimpu.

We made this one by the book, only bringing down the heat with fewer chillies (so that the six year old would eat it too) and adding the coriander leaves for a punch of freshness. We served it with kara podi and green chillies so each could adjust their own heat at the table.

Now, do note that this is indeed a very light meal - all the air in the puffed rice inflates the volume while keeping the density low; if you wanted to serve a more substantial breakfast, you might want to accompany it by at least one other item such as idli or even just toast. This is ideal as part of a tiffin spread, and the taste is lively and fresh, sure to tempt the palate on even the hottest of summer days.

When you visit India after a long time away, people want to treat you to something special: I frequently get asked what my favorite dish is, what food I missed most while being away.

The answer is easy: panasa pottu kura - green jackfruit fry!

I guess it starts with my love of the pungency of mustard - not the American innocuous bright yellow liquid with vinegar and sugar, but the eye-watering, sinus-clearing heat of real mustard seeds. This is the reason I love the tartness and the heat of dosavakaya and also the reason why I couldn't resist Sandeepa's recipe - why I had to find a way to adapt it to a vegetarian dish (see Andhra Twist earlier).

But to get back to the recipe at hand: for a long time in the US the only option has been to use green jackfruit in cans; I hate the taste and texture of canned jackfruit though, and so I have never considered that to be a viable option. Then I found frozen green jackfruit, and suddenly panasa pottu kura became a real option again. Granted, the taste and texture can never be the same as the fresh version, but this bears a real resemblance to it.

Part of the chopped jackfruit, turmeric and salt

Now, trying to capture a recipe when you cook with the measurements by feel is not an easy task, so I found one on ammas that had the right proportions.

However, as you who are in the US no doubt know, most of the mustard seeds we get here seem to lack the required pungency, trading it in for bitterness instead. So, I add a smidgen of Chinese mustard powder to the mustard seed and lemon juice paste; you will need to try and see how much you would need.

I couldn't resist this recipe for Masala Bread when we saw it on Coffee's blog a little while ago, so we duly bookmarked it and put it on our list of things to try.

The way we normally work with online recipes is to print out a copy when we want to try it. We then stick it on the refrigerator with a magnet while we are cooking, and when we are done, we make annotations directly onto the printed sheet. If it turned out not so great - or if we just didn't particularly like it - it usually ends in "File 13." On the other hand, if we did like it, it goes into our folder filled with other recipes printed from online sources, categorized by type.

If we really, really liked it, it goes right in the front of the folder, along with a handful of other favorites.

Well, a few days ago we had a build-up of bread that was a couple of days old; not really appealing for sandwiches, but still perfectly fine otherwise: the perfect conditions to try out "Breakfast at The Spice Café!"

We followed the recipe pretty much as written, and boy, was this finger-lickin' good! We served it with homemade ginger chutney, and we couldn't keep our plates filled; even the picky six year-old kept asking for more.

When we do it again, we would most definitely make the recipe at least double, if not more. This is very light, and would be best if it was not the only item on the table - unless of course the object is to have a very light meal.

This is the kind of recipe that has such great basic structure that one can endlessly improvise on it; we look forward to doing just that in future. Thanks Coffee for a wonderful addition to our permanent recipe folder - no need to say that it is right in the front among the favorites.

The weekend turned rainy, and we hardly saw any blue sky at all. By the time Saturday afternoon rolled around we were all in need of a little pick-me-up. That's when I remembered Raji of Talimpu's wonderful recipe a few days ago for Aratikaya Bajji Chat.

What could be better on a gloomy day than the golden color of bajji with the taste of sunshine inside, mixed with the freshness of the onion, chilli and coriander leaves that will explode in your mouth?

So, off to my bookmarks, pulled up the recipe and printed it out (if you haven't yet tried it, you should take a look at Raji's cool "Print" button that creates a copy perfect for printing), then downstairs to start the preparation.

Like many other favorite recipes, this one is simplicity itself, relying on the innate flavors of the ingredients and their interaction with one another to produce a great-tasting result.

The first part of the recipe calls for making little golden coins of plantain bajji. That is simple enough, and the bajji were good enough just like that that we were sorely tempted to forget the rest of the recipe and eat them right then!

We had a little bit of the batter left, and no more plantain, so we sliced thin discs of zucchini and made bajji of them as well. Those we did eat right away - after all, you can stand only so much temptation, don't you think?

Ingredients for the chatNext we filled the kitchen with the aroma of roasting peanuts - I lightly stomp them with mortar and pestle first to split them in half, but not so hard as to break them into little pieces. After letting them cool, I rubbed them lightly between my palms to loosen the skins, and went out onto the deck to blow them away. The old ways still work the best!

Mixing it in a large bowl with the chopped bajji, we could already tell it was going to be a winner. We added a few pinches of chat masala at this stage, just before squeezing over the lemon.

On the plateI didn't bother making tamarind chutney for this, but used a lovely store-bought tamarind-date chutney instead. What I did make was just a quick yogurt sauce: on 1.5 cups of yogurt I added half a teaspoon each of cumin powder and coriander powder, a quarter teaspoon each of black pepper and red chilli powder, and salt to taste. After stirring it up, we served it over the chat to complete the experience.

Simple and brilliant! Thanks Raji for the recipe.

I felt in the mood for something with a Persian taste. A colleague of mine brings these wonderful stuffed vegetables - hollowed out potatoes and zucchini etc. - that his wife has made to potlucks at work, and I started looking for a recipe online. The only recipes I could find though were non-veg, stuffed with meat and egg, while my colleague's wife makes it with a pure veg stuffing.

Playing around on the Persian cooking sites, I did find a couple of other interesting recipes though. One of them was very appealing because I could almost taste the flavors on my tongue just from reading it. The problem was that it asked for something found only in Middle Eastern stores, and I had no idea where to start looking. So, I decided to adapt the recipe into its current form as something we can easily make at home.

I found it very difficult to make this soup; now don't misunderstand me - physically everything is supremely easy, but I needed to enter into a different mindset to make this. As I cooked, I kept wanting to add coriander or cumin, a chilli or two, some lemon juice. I had to keep fighting myself to stick only to the flavors in the recipe. Every time I would taste it, thinking that I might need to add something that I am more used to cooking with, and every time the taste would be so wonderful that I would leave it as it is. In the end, the only thing I did add was some more mint, and salt.

The recipe is quick, easy to make, delicious and full of protein; it is just the ticket for the evening when the family is asking for "something different."

Note: The recipe calls for dried mint. The flavor is more intense than that of fresh mint, and it has another intriguing fragrance in the dried form. If you only have fresh, you will need about a cup to replace the dried herb.

Back when Angel Face was two years old (she just turned seven on Saturday!), she was in tears one day when picked up from daycare. One of the kids there had white-gold hair that shone in the light, and some truly remarkable large bright blue eyes. After some probing, it turned out that several people had come to visit the daycare that day, and every single one of them had made a big fuss about this boy's beautiful blue eyes. And Angel Face was crying her heart out because she only had "ugly brown eyes."

With a lot of gentle discussion, she was made to see that she was extra-special, because she had "chocolate eyes," and chocolate is the yummiest thing on earth; she ended up being thoroughly consoled by this. To this day, if you ask her what color her eyes are, she would say "chocolate" or perhaps "chocolate brown."

She also happens to be highly intrigued by black-eyed peas for the same reason, and so this recipe was prepared especially for her.

My husband selected the recipe while browsing through Jyothsna's wonderful blog, Curry Bazaar. It is a traditional Punjabi dish, and we played around a little with the cooking method for the pulses, and the spicing. Black-eyed peas are not a staple in our house, but it makes for a wonderful variation in the diet.

One thing that became clear is that the recipe scales really well; we used one cup to feed four people, serving it with rice, a bottle gourd curry, plain curds and some avakayi.

Well, the blog's name is Hunger Pangs and hunger pangs are indeed what we were suffering last night. I had to work late last night, and 6 p.m. the phone rang at my desk.

Me (after checking the incoming number on caller ID): "Hello darling."
Him (sounding forlorn): "Still working, hmm? Any idea how long it will still be?"
Me (in a tired voice): "I still have a few things to finish up; hopefully not too long now."
Him (sounding desperately hungry): "Any ideas for supper?"

Which is when Rajitha came to the rescue! I had just commented on her blog earlier that day, and had been working on an idea in my head (inspired by her entry) on the Gujurati restaurants I've been to that had the best food (you'll have to wait a bit for that post, I am afraid) and so, while desperately thinking what to feed my hungry family, her entry on Dhal Banjari jumped into my mind.

Now, let me tell you, this is a wonderful recipe. I asked my husband to start pressure cooking the dhals, and to take out some frozen corn (that recipe will follow a bit later). This meant that by the time I reached home, the dhal was ready for the rest of the recipe - perfect timing.

We left out the cinnamon stick, and we used whole urad, so after everything simmered together at the end, I used my power stick sparingly - dipping it here and there into the dhal and "zirring" it for just a moment, resulting in a lovely mix of some creamy consistency with still lots of whole urad. Right before removing it from the heat I stirred in some cream (you could use a little rich curd as well) to ensure it was liquidy enough and to give a little richness to the dish.

It was finger-licking good - thanks Rajitha for the rescue and the recipe!

If you are wondering what it is that I served it with (remember the corn?), you will have to keep watching the blog.

Srivalli made these wonderful rice parathas for the WBB Breakfast from Leftovers roundup. We knew as soon as we saw it that this would be a recipe we would like to try; a week or so later, we did indeed try it. And we absolutely loved it.

We did have a few challenges in trying to make it, the chief one being that I don't have cast-iron fingers. This meant that I wanted a batter that could be spread with the back of a spoon onto the hot tava, instead of pressed with my fingers. This meant adding water bit by bit until I got the right consistency. But making the batter that thin meant that the parathas lacked body, so I added a little baking powder to give it body and lightness.

Now it is all very well to fiddle once with a recipe; the big challenge is to see whether you can now follow your altered recipe from scratch and end up with satisfactory results. (In other words, the family was clamoring to have me make these again).

So this past weekend I did. And we loved the result. Since I am confessing here, I will tell you that first, we didn't have leftover rice, we made "leftover" rice; i.e. on Saturday night we cooked some rice with the express intent to use it on Sunday for these parathas! Second, I tripled the recipe, and there was barely enough to everyone's satisfaction.

What would I change? When I tripled the recipe, I didn't quite triple the onion. That was a mistake - the onion plays an important role in the taste of this dish, and you could even add more. If you like heat, you could also add sliced rings of green chilli to the batter.

An astute reader - Laavanya - asked with what I served the rice parathas; this provided the perfect segue for my next entry: a Gujurati style potato and chickpea curry.

Once I had made the decision to make the rice parathas, the question was indeed to find a good kura to accompany it. I knew that the family would be perfectly capable of eating the parathas by themselves - especially Angel Face, the little monkey that she is - but that would hardly be a proper meal.

The thing that popped into my head was Gujarati style channa masala; a new Indian restaurant opened here about a month ago, serving thalis for lunch and this is always one of the katoris on the thali. I started looking for a recipe, but didn't get very far, until I decided I would use a recipe for Bateta nu Shaak as a starting point.

From that point I just "winged" it, and we were ecstatic with the results. It does not taste quite like the one in the restaurant, and I am not making any claims that this is authentically Gujurati, but the taste was delicious, and the serving dish came back empty from the table.

Note: For the cup of cooked chickpeas in the recipe, I used one can of cooked chickpeas/garbanzo beans.

Appeal: If anyone has an authentic Gujurati recipe for kabuli channa in a very liquid gravy, I would appreciate it if you could point me towards it.

I knew a guy whose name was Joshua, known to one and all simply as Josh. Online his nickname was Rogan. Just that. And it was only the desis (and to some extent the limeys) who got the wonderful pun: Rogan Josh! I still happen to think that's the smartest online name I have ever seen, but then I'm funny that way.

Sra from When my Soup came Alive posted a recipe she'd found in a cookbook for Vegetarian Rogan Josh. And so in honor of that pun, I decided to try it.

Now, this is one recipe where we just couldn't manage to follow the instructions - or even the ingredients. We tweaked it so much, I doubt it could even be called the same dish, so go on over to Sra's blog and check out the original recipe at the link above.

It starts with the fact that we didn't have red pumpkin on hand; we did however have bottle gourd, and given the fact that they are all part of the same extended family, we swapped that in.

Next came the fact of the proportions of the spices: we had to lessen the chilli powder or Angel Face won't eat it, reduce the percentage of aniseed powder since the flavor is pretty dominant, and substitute powdered asafoetida for asafoetida water. And as a final deviation, we substantially increased the amount of yoghurt.

What can I say? Sometimes the inner tweaker just takes over. And it was delicious. The yoghurt really separates with the oil rimming the edges. Depending on your preference you can stir it back into the dish before serving, or try and serve the pieces while catching as little oil as possible. Remember though that the oil serves as a vehicle to disperse the spices, so a lot of the flavor of the dish is in there.

The accompaniment for this is obvious: Kashmiri pulao of course. What was that? You don't have a recipe for that? Oh my goodness, I just might have to scratch around a bit and see if I can dig up mine again...

I don't know where this recipe came from! Maa chellelu Nini found it online about six weeks ago, but she copied and pasted it, and now it doesn't have any URL information - or other distinguishing characteristics - anywhere. It could have come from a blog, or from an Indian recipe site like bawarchi.com, or a generic recipe site like cooks.com. I have no idea.

If you recognize this recipe - either as your own or from somewhere else - please let me know. First and foremost I would like to give due credit, but secondly: this recipe is fantastic! I would like to know where it came from so we can cook more of their recipes.

The biggest change we made to this recipe was to use butternut squash instead of pumpkin because that's what we had on hand. It turned out deliciously; the combination of the natural sweetness of the butternut combined with the distinctive tastes of the coconut and the curry leaves created a lot of happy people around the table; not to mention the richness added by the cashews.

Food bloggers are wonderful people; everyone always seem so willing to help. I was looking for more Gujurati chana-bateta recipes after posting a modified concoction I made a while ago. And people very helpfully suggested that I look at the recipe posted by Trupti from The Spice Who Loved Me.

Now, for those of you with young children at home, this will be a familiar scene. Sitting down at dinner table, Angel Face usually will not eat much of the "proper" food, but instead will load up on the rice, or the bread or pasta or potatoes... you get the idea. To counteract this, we had instituted the "one-bite/one-bite" policy, which says she can have a bite of carbs only after she's had a mouthful of "real food." Sound familiar?

Well, it turns out she loves senagalu and what's more, she lo-o-o-oves them Gujurati style. Well, when you find something that the kid will eat without complaint that happens actually to be good for her with lots of protein (always a concern for us vegies), and that the adults also happen to like, you go for it!

So I tried Trupti's recipe, and it was another winner; I will keep it with the previous recipe, and we will probably alternate them, making one this time, and the other one the next time. As for Angel Face? Like last time, she took a spoon to the katori with the chana-bateta nu shaak in it and finished it off that way before even touching the bhatura. For her second helping, I filled it only halfway, thinking she won't finish it, but she did and asked for more even after that. Now what better endorsement than that do you want for a recipe?

Note: I've made only a few small changes to Trupti's recipe: left out the besan because we like it liquidy and when some of the potato is broken up a little bit it thickens the gravy quite well, and didn't put the jaggery.