Chana Masala

So much of how my family cooks involves guesswork. Measurements are made by eyeballing it, or if we’re being a bit more accurate, palmfuls. (Let’s not even discuss variability in palm sizes and the confusion that might create.) The most important elements of cooking become the sights, smells, feels, sounds (the pops of cumin seeds frying in oil, for example), and especially, taste. It is an extremely sensory experience, cooking with my family, one that would be totally fabulous if it wasn’t so hard to replicate when you’re 250 miles away.

Because no one ever writes anything down, trying to make something the way my mom or dad does is an epic challenge. There’s the obvious built-in anxiety / fear of failure that comes with recreating a dish that you grew up eating (What if it doesn’t come out exactly the way my mom and grandmother and great-grandmother made it? Does that mean I’m unfit to carry on the line??), with the added difficulty of trying to decipher a very loosely cobbled-together set of instructions: a little bit of this + a little bit of that, fried together until it smells fragrant. How much of this? equal amounts of that? How fragrant? It’s no wonder that the bulk of my Indian cooking takes place under parental supervision in Maryland.*

Chana masala is a very popular Punjabi dish made with chickpeas. Recipes vary, but basic components are garlic, ginger, tomatoes, turmeric, coriander, cumin and chili pepper. The game-changer is the slightly tart acidic note, usually added in the form of amchoor (dried mango) powder. It is sometimes served with large puffy fried bread, called bhature, in which case the dish is called chole bhature. (That’s the version my mom usually makes, but I didn’t make the bhature because it involves yeast … ick.)

My mom’s version is apparently less authentic, since it relies on a hefty squeeze of lemon juice for chana masala’s signature tartness. That’s fine by me, since it’s one less spice I have to buy (and we all know how I feel about buying spices). She doesn’t make it that frequently and I crave it often, so I was very happy to discover that the recipe is pretty easy — at least once the guessing game is over. Luckily for you, I’ve worked out a version that tastes close enough to what my mom makes to be completely satisfying.

One note on serving: while you could be relatively traditional and eat the chana masala with naan or even rice, I heartily recommend eating it like a dip with tortilla chips. My sister and I used to do this all the time and it is de.lish.ous.

*The process of making this gajar halwa by myself included multiple emails, at least 7 phone calls, as well as a frantic picture text. BUT making this chana masala only required one call, and I got to send a triumphant “I did it right!” picture text. That’s called growth, people.

Chana Masala
Makes 6 servings

– 2 tablespoons canola oil

– 2 medium-sized potatoes, peeled and cut into 1-inch cubes

– 1 teaspoon cumin seeds

– 1 large onion, chopped roughly + 1 small onion, diced

– large pinch of sugar

– 2 medium tomatoes, chopped roughly

– 1 inch ginger, peeled and chopped roughly

– 2 cloves garlic, chopped roughly

– 2 teaspoons turmeric powder

– 1 teaspoon cumin powder

– 1 teaspoon cayenne pepper (this is pretty spicy; do a bit less if you’re spice-averse)

– 1 teaspoon coriander powder

– 1 teaspoon garam masala

– 2 15-ounce cans chickpeas, rinsed and drained

– juice of half a lemon

– 1/4 cup fresh cilantro, chopped

– salt and pepper, to taste

– Greek yogurt for serving (optional)

1) In a large skillet or saute pan, heat the oil. Add the potatoes and a pinch of salt, then saute on medium heat for 10-12 minutes, until they are almost tender. Add the cumin seeds and fry for an additional 2-3 minutes, until the seeds have browned.

2) Toss in the diced onions, along with a hefty pinch of sugar. Saute the onions until caramelized, 7-10 minutes.

3) While the potatoes and onions are cooking, use a blender or food processor to create a paste of the roughly chopped onion, tomatoes, ginger and garlic (adding water if necessary). Once the onions have browned, stir in this paste and cook for 5-7 minutes, stirring occasionally.

4) Stir in the turmeric, cumin, cayenne, coriander, and garam masala. Cook, stirring frequently, for 5 minutes, then add in the chickpeas. Cover partially and simmer on low heat for 20-25 minutes, until the chickpeas are tender and the sauce has thickened.

5) Remove from heat and stir in the the lemon juice. Garnish with the chopped cilantro and a dollop of Greek yogurt (optional).