food, Inspirations, recipes, travel

recipe: besan dhal paratha

Have I mentioned that I adore Indian food, over and above any other?

Racially, I may be the rebellious heir to Philippine cooking, and an indifferent heir to the cooking of the American midwest…I may be a trepid émigré to the heavy meat-and-dairy foods of Australia, an enthusiastic admirer of Thai, Vietnamese, and Malay street foods, and a happy participant in Mexican and Italian dishes…

But the Indian kitchen is my spiritual home (even though I am not in the least bit Indian) and Indian cooking is my soul food. I love everything—everything!—that issues from the kitchens of this 5,000-year-old cuisine…from Kashmir in the North to Tamil Nadu in the South, and all the marvelous flavours and textures in-between.

I’ve tried to teach myself to cook some of my favorite things, over the years, though I must confess that the subtleties of flavour and some of the traditional ingredients of the cuisine are lost on an outsider like me. But then I am not cooking to please an Indian husband (who would, no doubt, compare my skills to those of his mother), Indian mother or Indian mother-in-law, thank goodness! Kris doesn’t mind Indian food, but his favorite is Thai, and so, really, I cook for myself. I cook for myself because I delight in all aspects of Indian cooking, from shopping for the spices to the time and labour intensive processes of kneading doughs, grinding spices, grating and milking coconuts, sieving, churning, stirring bubbling chutneys for hours on end…as much as in the finished food.

That said, I don’t dare claim any of my own recipes as authentically Indian or correct!
I improvise a lot. I experiment. I substitute things to bring the Glycemic Index of a recipe down. I probably create a lot of unholy marriages between ingredients that Ayurvedic practitioners would shudder to read of. But the stuff I make is yummy (well, I think so, anyway), it brings me joy to make it and eat it, and—almost too good to be true—most of them have the Low GI rating that, so far, has kept my blood sugar within ‘normal person’ levels for two years straight.

I’ve been making plain roti (a.k.a. chapatti) for a long, long time, but only very recently learned to make Parathas (also parantha or parauntha) from my lovely new co-worker Sabi. She and her family are Sikhs from Punjab, and are strictly vegetarian. There were no pictures of the day I visited Sabi at her home…I didn’t want to freak my new friend out by pulling a camera out and styling the food. She’s a very shy and simple woman, a devoted wife and mother, has been just a few years in Australia.

Parathas are a fabulous, flaky Indian flatbread cooked on a hot griddle. The flakiness is caused by trapping oil and/or oily pastes between layers of dough (so parathas are slightly less healthy than plain roti or chapattis, which are pretty much flour, dough, water, and a scant tablespoon of oil) but they are so delicious that they are worth the extra oil content! I use canola oil, for what it’s worth.

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Besan & Dhal Roti

Atta (dough)

  • 2 cups of atta flour
  • 1/2 cup of besan
  • 1/4 cup of rolled oats, only because I was experimenting the day I took the pictures…better just leave them out!
  • 1 tsp each of coriander seeds, nigella seeds, coarse-ground chilli powder. I also threw in Maldives fish sambol (because I am addicted to the stuff), and chaat masala (ditto)
  • 1/2 inch piece of ginger (not pictured) finely grated
  • a handful of chopped coriander leaves (not pictured)
  • 1 tablespoon canola oil
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt
  • about 1 cup of warm water
  • extra atta flour for rolling
  • extra canola oil for cooking

Besan & Dhal Roti

In a mixing bowl, combine the flours and all the spices, herbs, seasonings in the picture above. Don’t forget the ginger and coriander, which I forgot to include in the photograph. Add warm water, a little at a time, and when the mix starts to look like a bowl of broken-up cauliflower lumps, drop the spatula and use your hands to knead the lumps together. Just because the mix looks dry doesn’t mean it is…kneading by hand will tell you, by feel, when the dough is of the right consistency (soft, but not sticky) Never dump all the water in at one time…I find that I never use up all of the water, and still my doughs so far have been too sticky to knead and roll with ease. So this tip comes from my experience of not following this tip!

Once everything has come together, take the dough out of its bowl and knead by hand for a few minutes. Form into a ball, cover, and let rest for “at least 10 minutes”, as the various recipes say, though I find that leaving the dough for an hour, or even overnight in the fridge, makes it more elastic and less sticky.

While the dough is resting, make the besan and dhal paste.

Besan & Dhal Roti

Besan and dhal paste

  • 1 cup of cooked dhal…I used chana dhal, washed and soaked for a few hours in water, then boiled—with salt, a teaspoon of turmeric, and a piece of cinnamon bark—until cooked but not mushy). Drain well and let cool.
  • 1/3 cup of besan
  • 1 tsp ajwain or carom seeds
  • 1 tsp red chilli powder
  • 1/2 tsp turmeric powder
  • 1 tsp salt
  • 1/3 cup canola oil

Note: To make a very simple paratha, use just canola oil instead of the besan-and-dhal paste to create the layers. The process remains the same.

Into a food processor or blender throw together the cooked dhal, besan, spices, and salt. Pulse to a mush, adding oil until the paste is smooth and, theoretically, spreadable…though I keep mine fairly stiff, and it doesn’t spread easily at all. The the good thing about this is that I can use more of the paste than just a thin smear (I love dhal!) but I get less pasty mess running out of my bread when I roll it out. Whatever suits you, I say.

Set a heavy-bottomed non-stick frying pan, or a griddle, or a thawa, onto low-medium heat.

Besan & Dhal Roti

Divide the dough into 6 or 8 balls. On an atta-dusted surface, roll out one ball of dough into a four-inch circle.

Besan & Dhal Roti

Smear or spread (in my case this involves some softly delivered expletives and the messy use of my fingers…the spoon in the picture is for show, just so you know) the paste over the circle.

Besan & Dhal Roti

Fold one third of the circle over…

Besan & Dhal Roti

and fold the remaining third up over the first.

Besan & Dhal Roti

Then fold the long rectangle up by thirds again,

Besan & Dhal Roti

to make a fat little square

Besan & Dhal Roti

Dust the bundle, and then gently pat the square down a little with your hand to make it easier to roll. With a VERY LIGHT TOUCH, start rolling the square out into a flat bread. If you make small rolling movements from the center outwards, rotating the bread with each roll, you can get a circle. I usually don’t bother…I just make 90 degree turns and try to get a 7 or 8-inch square.

Besan & Dhal Roti

More stretching can be done by picking the bread up and flipping it from one palm to the other…this actually does less damage than rolling. Flip the flat bread onto the hot, DRY griddle.

On the griddle, let one side cook only slightly, about 30 or 40 seconds. Holding the griddle by its handle, slide a corner of the bread to the edge, where you can quickly pick the bread up and flip it over onto the other side.

Quickly spread a teaspoon of canola oil over the cooked surface of the bread, letting the other side cook for about 30 seconds.

Note: To cut down on oil and make this step even quicker, I use canola oil in a spray can and spray the surface of the bread. Nice and light!

Flip the bread over again, and oil this surface, as well. Cook for 30 seconds…the surface of the bread should start undulating and moving as hot steam trapped between the dough layers pushes them apart and cooks them from the inside. AWESOME!

Repeat the flipping action until both sides get spots of golden brown on them. Flip onto a plate and serve hot, with a dipping bowl of yoghurt dusted with chaat masala, and maybe some chutney or lemon pickle.

Besan & Dhal Roti

I can’t believe my luck! Easy and cheap to make, flaky yet moist, spicy, stuffed with dhal or anything else I care to use, earthy and satisfying, plus 100% approved of by my doctor!
I just died and went to heaven.

What makes this flatbread such a wonderful option for healthy eating?

Atta flour is made from durum wheat (Triticum durum), the same ‘hard’ wheat used in making pasta, which is another beloved staple of those watching their blood sugar and weight. (You cannot imagine my excitement when I learned that atta and durum are one and the same thing…I used to make my own lasagna and fettuccine noodles from scratch, but gave it up because of the soft wheat flours that were all I could find in the Philippines to use. Even in Australia, durum wheat doesn’t just sit around, available to the public, on supermarket shelves…but every Indian grocery sells atta in 15 kg. sacks! Woot!) Durum also goes by the name bread flour, and winter wheat. It is extremely high in protein, yet lower in gluten (that glutinous web that enables leavened breads to trap air and rise) than the flour made from other wheat varieties.

Besan, or chickpea flour, is also rated as having a low G.I., as are all other varieties of dhal—also known as pulses, lentils, peas or beans. Dhal (derives from the Sanskrit verb “to split”) is typically around 25% protein by weight, giving it a comparable protein content to meats. Dal is also high in Low Glycemic Index carbohydrates, whilst being virtually fat free. Dal is also rich in the B vitamins thiamine and folic acid as well as several minerals, notably iron and zinc.

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food, recipes

The king of the ardent kitchen

And she forgot the stars, the moon, and sun,

And she forgot the blue above the trees,

And she forgot the dells where waters run,

And she forgot the chilly autumn breeze;

She had no knowledge when the day was done,

And the new morn she saw not: but in peace

Hung over her sweet Basil evermore,

And moisten’d it with tears unto the core.

—excerpt from Isabella or The Pot of Basil, by the English Romantic poet John Keats (1795-1821)

Isabella and the Pot of Basil (1868) by William Holman Hunt

Basil (Ocimum basilicum) is a herb that features prominently not only in Italian cuisine, but also in the Southeast Asian cuisines of Taiwan, Thailand, Vietnam, Cambodia, and Laos. Basil is originally native to Iran, India and other tropical regions of Asia, having been cultivated there for more than 5,000 years. There are lots of different varieties of basil, such as Thai basil, lemon basil, and holy basil, but the one used in Italian cooking is commonly called sweet basil. The name basil comes from the Greek βασιλεύς (basileus), meaning “king”…there are several stories for how basil got it’s name, but I personally suspect that it was simply called “the king” in recognition of it’s fecund leafiness, superior fragrance, intense flavor, and it’s culinary prowess.

Cooking isn’t the only thing the King is good at, apparently. Basil appears in many spells for drawing love, for fertility, money and business, happy home spells and psychic power. I like Judika Illes‘ Grow a Lover Spell, where she instructs you to

“Grow basil in pots at home to draw love and also to counter lack of erotic interest.”


It is a symbol of love in present-day Italy, whilst in Portugal, Dwarf Bush Basil is traditionally presented in a pot, together with a poem and a pom-pom, to a sweetheart, on the religious holidays of Saint John and Saint Anthony. However, basil represented hatred in ancient Greece, and European lore sometimes claims that basil is a symbol of Satan. African legend claims that basil protects against scorpions, while the English botanist Culpeper cites one “Hilarius, a French physician” as affirming it as common knowledge that smelling basil too much would breed scorpions in the brain. (via Wikipedia)

basil detail

I love basil for all these reasons, and also for the ease with which it can be propagated. I have never had a problem growing it: it’s nearly as aggressive as a weed in the tropical climes I have lived in all my life! You can propagate it by seed, and it can also be propagated very reliably from cuttings: Wikipedia recommends suspending the green stems of short cuttings for two weeks or so in water until roots develop…but I planted whole borders of basil around my parents’ home in Manila just by taking cuttings of woody stems of older plants (you strip off all but three or four leaves), sticking them straight into the soil, and watering them everyday.

I am trying to slowly build up a little potted garden on the deck of our houseboat, SonOfAGun, and along with tomatoes, chillies, malunggay (Moringa olifeira) and what flowers will thrive in the salty air of the sea, I wanted some basil plants to cook with. I bought an ordinary packet of seeds (Yates) from the supermarket, and sowed them in a deep plastic bin. Within three days they had sprouted,

sweet basil and "cottage garden" flowers

and two weeks later they are looking very genki, indeed!

o-genki desu ka?

Basil flowers are pretty little things borne on a terminal spike, sometimes white though I have had pale purple flowering basil, as well. But if you want the herb for cooking, flowers are an unwelcome beauty. If a stem successfully produces mature flowers, leaf production slows or stops on any stem which flowers, the stem becomes woody, and essential oil production declines. To prevent this you have to pinch off flower stems before they are fully mature. Because only the blooming stem is so affected, some can be pinched for leaf production, while others are left to bloom for decoration or seeds.

Harvesting your basil is actually good for the plant,as picking the leaves off the plant helps “promote growth”, largely because the plant responds by converting pairs of leaflets next to the topmost leaves into new stems. For a bushier plant, make more pesto!

pesto alla Genovese

Once the plant is allowed to flower, it produces small black seeds which can be saved and planted the following year. The Thais use the basil seeds as an ingredient in themselves, for desserts. I have never tried these sweet drinks they make, but my guess is the seeds must taste a bit lemony? If I remember, 6 months from now, I’ll try and collect some seeds to cook with. Ω

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