It's a rainy, grey day outside, and cooler than it had been the past few days (down to 10º from 25º), so something warm and hearty was most welcome. I had theoretically been saving this particular can of chopped clams for stuffing steaks, following an 18th century recipe, but my enthusiasm got the better of me, and once I had chowder on the brain it was hard to shake. I've never actually made clam chowder from scratch by myself before, but I have cooked clams, and this would be just as easy to make with steamed clams.

Great Swamp Clam Chowder, New England Style

2 tbsp bacon drippings, or butter
medium yellow onion, diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
3 fist-sized potatoes, large diced
2 c/5 dL milk
6.5 oz/180 g can chopped clams in clam juice
2 small carrots, peeled and sliced
2 green onions or stalks of wild garlic, chopped
0.5 tsp fresh sage, chiffonade
0.5 tsp fresh basil, chiffonade
tbsp dried parsley
2 tsp kosher salt
2 tsp Penzeys shrimp & crab boil mix/Old Bay seasoning mix*
0.25 tsp cracked peppercorns
2 tbsp flour (optional)

*What's in this? According to the catalog: yellow and brown mustard seed, allspice, coriander, Ceylon cloves, cracked bay leaves, cracked ginger, Tellicherry peppercorns, chili pepper, dill seed and caraway seed. If you're overseas and can't get some, I'll be in Europe again next month.

Melt the fat in a large saucepan. Cook the onion and garlic until fragrant. Add the potatoes, and cook until the onions start to colour. Pour in the milk. Drain the clams, adding the juice to the milk; reserve clams. Add the carrots and wild garlic. Once the milk is at a simmer, keep the pot at a simmer over low heat for about 40 minutes. Add the herbs and spices to taste. (If you think by now it ought to be a little thicker, whisk in the flour a little at a time and cook a couple minutes more to thicken.) Remove from heat. Stir in reserved clams. Let sit three minutes to bring the clams up to temperature.

If you need to reheat it, don't bring it the whole way to the boil, as that makes the clams rubbery and contribued to your dislike of clams as a kid, believe me. This was lovely with toasted slices of fresh English Muffin bread. Really good for a cold day.

smarriveurr made Biryani burgers for supper, and I made naan bread to go with them. I didn't get any pictures of the burgers because we inhaled them way too quickly, but the bread was both fun and easy to make.

I served these tonight with a rice/vermicelli risotto. smarriveurr actually seems to have liked this fish.

Blackened Tilapia, vaguely following advice from the Bass on Hook Fishing Resource Center

3 tilapia fillets
tbsp Paprika
tsp salt
0.25 tsp ground pepper
clove garlic, minced
0.5 tsp chilli powder
tsp dried basil
0.5 tsp thyme
tbsp butter, melted
tbsp lemon juice

Mix seasonings in a bowl. Brush fillets with melted butter and coat with seasonings. Heat tbsp olive oil in large saute pan until shimmering. Place fillets in hot skillet and cook 2 minutes on each side, or until opaque.

Eggplant-Tomato Stacks, inspired by Sara Moulton

medium eggplant, sliced into rounds*
large tomato, sliced*
olive oil
balsamic vinegar
dried basil
parmesan cheese

* I sliced such that I had equal numbers of slices of eggplant and tomato. You may want different ratios--just plan accordingly. In hindsight, I probably also should have peeled the eggplant. You are forewarned.

Lay down a slice of eggplant, drizzle with olive oil, and sprinkle with basil. Lay a slice of tomato on top. Splash with balsamic vinegar. Add two more layers, thusly, of eggplant and tomato. Top with parmesan and basil. Broil about 15 minutes, or until the cheese has toasted.

Having recently seen barley on an episode of "Good Eats," I'd been inspired yesterday to give it a go as a side-dish for supper. St. Alton had recommended baking hulled barley in the oven with cooking liquid and a tight lid, but I took it a step further, having been influenced by the short quantity of vessels in which to store the chicken stock I'd just made. This is both dead easy and quite tasty, and a change from regular risotto.

Baked Barley Risotto

c/200 g dry hulled barley
2 c/450 mL chicken stock
knob of butter
about a teaspoon kosher salt

Stir all together in a 1.5 qt casserole, and cover tightly with foil. Bake for an hour at 375ºF/190ºC, then fluff with a fork.

What I really wanted this morning were waffles, but we only had two eggs, and I'd have had to find somebody to retrieve the waffle iron from its retirement allotment way high up on the kitchen shelves. And likely scrub said waffle iron. Meh.

This was easier. It was made super-easy by the fact that I'd already stewed some squash with assorted pumpkiny spices, and I could just add that to the batter.

Pumpkin Spice Muffins

Cooking spray
c/125 g all-purpose white flour
c/135 g whole-wheat brown flour
tsp baking soda
0.5 tsp salt
assorted pumpkin pie spice, to taste
0.75 c/175 g packed dark brown sugar
0.25 c/60 mL unsulphured molasses
0.25 c/60 mL vegetable oil
2 large eggs
c/330 g canned pumpkin or stewed butternut squash
tsp vanilla extract
0.75 c/170 mL milk

Preheat oven to 400ºF/200ºC. Coat a 12-cup muffin pan with cooking spray.

Stir together the flours, baking soda, salt, and spices. In a separate bowl, whisk together the sugar, molasses, oil, eggs and milk. Stir in pumpkin and vanilla.

Add wet ingredients to dry, and stir for about 20 seconds. Let sit for a few minutes to hydrate.

Pour the batter into prepared muffin pan. Bake for 20 minutes, rotating the pans halfway through for even baking. Turn out onto a clean tea towel to cool.

For a couple of years now, I've been reading about historical cookery, and have slowly been experimenting with the trickier aspects of anachronistic cuisine. "Raised" pies, not necessarily requiring a separate dish for structural integrity, have been one of my fears, but today's success seems to have laid that fear to rest.

( Method under the cut )

When I was a child, nuts were a definite holiday thing--we'd have bowls of nuts festooned with metal crackers and the nut picks I'd never really figured out how to use. Filberts/hazelnuts were my favourite, but almonds and walnuts were up there, too. Only the Brazil nut really earned my disdain, as it led to more aching hands than happy stomachs.

Now that I've grown and I've recognised nuts as one of my migraine triggers, I've had to cull nuts rather severely from my diet. It does, admittedly, take me a nut or three to bring on migraine, but the condition means being careful with certain mince pies, forgoing about half the cookies available around Christmas, having to say no to a great number of tasty desserts, and never, ever eating pesto.

Never, you say? I'm not a good one for "never," especially when pesto is so very delicious.

Like I do every year, I'd saved the seeds from my Hallowe'en pumpkin, and like I do every year, I stared at them bleakly from time to time, as I have little taste for simple toasted pumpkin seeds. Intarnetz to the rescue! The magic interweb recommended...toasting them. Well, bugger that for unimaginative, even with curry powder. It took some interesting, cloak-and-dagger Google fu, but I did manage to come across a mention of "pumpkin seed pesto."

Pesto without nuts? I perk up immediately. I'd been eyeing a delectable-looking sage pesto recipe provided by our local heroine at Vanesscipies, but was mourning its hefty base of walnuts. Maybe I could make my pesto and eat it, too, without paying massively for it later as the world collapsed in on me in a spiny ball of Very Sharp Doom.

Several more jaunts to various other interwibblers (mostly food bloggers--how I love you folks!) have variously recommended hulled and unhulled pumpkin seeds, toasted and untoasted, a stunning variety of herbs, and a great cheese/no cheese debate. Read this as "wing it." The following is an approximation of my process, using Vanessa's sage-and-spinach approach.

Pumpkin Seed and Spinach Pesto

cup/150 g toasted whole pumpkin seeds
3 large cloves garlic
couple sprigs sage
double fistful baby spinach leaves
tablespoon lemon juice
dash kosher salt and several grinds multicoloured peppercorns
several glugs extra-virgin olive oil

Assemble ingredients, having pruned your trusty sage plant sparingly and forayed out into suburbia to retrieve a carton of spinach. Feck everything into grinding machine. (Really, this ought to be a decent sort of food processor, however my grinding apparatus is very much not a decent food processor, and thus took rather an amount of cajoling to grind at all consistently.) Process until you're swearing mightily at your insufficient technology, or until coarsely mixed. Spoon into rather attractive bowl Bigger Half made while in college, and leave to sit in the refrigerator for a few hours to think about what it's done to upset you.

The resulting mix is garlicky enough to make me happy, but very nutty tasting. In future, I'll probably cut down the quantity of pumpkin seeds, or not toast them beforehand.

The chocolate filling changed consistency very quickly and became hard to spread, so I may do this slightly differently next time.

Pumpkin Chocolate Cheesecake

1 c/125 g graham cracker crumbs
0.25 c/30 g wheat germ
2 tbsp white sugar
0.25 c/60 g butter, melted

2 c/350 g chocolate chips
24 oz./675 g cream cheese, softened
c/250 g white sugar
0.25 c/40 g light brown sugar
15 oz./425 g pumpkin
4 eggs
5 oz./150 mL evaporated milk
0.25 c/30 g cornstarch/cornflour
tsp cinnamon
several dashes nutmeg
dash cardamom

In the bottom of a 10"/25 cm springform pan, combine graham cracker crumbs, wheat germ, sugar and butter. Press onto bottom of pan. Sprinkle with half the chocolate chips.

In large mixer bowl, beat cream cheese, granulated sugar and brown sugar. Beat in pumpkin, eggs and evaporated milk. Beat in cornstarch, and spices.

Melt the remaining chocolate, either doing it the hard way over the stove, or by microwaving in short bursts. (I found 3 20-second shots sufficient.) Stir until smooth. Stir one cup batter into melted chocolate--quickly, so that it doesn't set the chocolate too much.

Pour pumpkin mixture into crust. Spoon chocolate mixture over top, swirl as best you can while the chocolate is a different viscosity than the rest of the batter.

Bake in a preheated 325ºF/165ºC oven for 60 minutes or until edge of filling is set. Turn oven off. Allow cheesecake to stand in oven for 30 minutes before covering with tinfoil and chilling for several hours.

Best when made as an interstate conspiracy.

Chess Pie

9" (23 cm, but that seems weird) pie crust, unbaked
0.5 c/125 g butter, melted
1.5 c/375 g sugar
tbsp cornmeal
3 eggs
5 tbsp milk
tsp vinegar
tsp vanilla

Beat sugar, cornmeal and eggs together. Stir in butter, milk, vinegar and vanilla. Pour into pie shell. Bake at 400º F/200º C for 35-40 minutes. Check on it regularly, as it will get very brown. Bake until the custard is set.

While in Rochester, my aunt served us pulled pork on kimmelweck rolls. Beef on weck is a regional specialty, and nearly unheard of by people who haven't either been there or known someone who has. I haven't eaten beef on weck too often this lifetime, but I've happy nostalgic memories of dinner out with my grandparents while I was staying with them for summer programmes at the local universities: thinly sliced beef on a caraway-salt roll that basically disintegrated as one chewed. No, really, and it's better than it might sound. I'd actually been meaning to make weck for a few weeks now, and having ascertained that smarriveurr likes it without too much effort on my part, I set around to making my own for supper today.

Kimmelweck Rolls

4.5 tsp active dry yeast
0.75 c warm water
2.5 tbsp sugar
2 tsp salt
0.33 c vegetable oil
0.66 c milk
5 c flour
caraway seeds
rough salt--kosher salt crystals or larger

Make a soft dough with everything except the caraway and rough salt. After the first ferment, divide into a dozen pieces and flatten into hand-sized circles. Fold the edge to the centre at each of the compass points and compress with the thumb to secure. Pat slightly flatter, and sprinkle with the caraway and rough salt. Bake at 375/180 for about 15 minutes, or until slightly golden.

These also work with poppy seeds, for those who don't like caraway.

From my late grandmother's recipe archives, via my aunt:

Tennessee Jam Cake

0.5 c margarine
c light brown sugar, packed
3 eggs, separated
2 c sifted cake flour
0.5 tsp soda
2 tsp baking powder
tsp nutmeg
0.25 tsp cloves
0.5 tsp cinnamon
c seedless black raspberry preserves
0.33 c buttermilk

Cream margarine. Add sugar gradually, creaming until light and fluffy. Add egg yolks and mix well. Sift dry ingredients together and add alternately with combined preserves and buttermilk. Fold in stiffly beated whites. Pour into two waxed paper lined 9" layer pans. Bake in 375d oven for 30-35 minutes. Frost with caramel frosting.

Caramel Frosting

0.5# caramels
0.5 c water or milk

Place caramels and water or milk in top of double boiler. Stir over boiling water until caramels are melted and sauce is smooth. Use 2/3 c for next recipe.

0.25 c margarine
5 c sifted confectioners' sugar
Cream margarine, add caramel sauce slowly, mixing well. Gradually add sugar and stir until well blended.

Boston Cream Pie

2" piece vanilla bean
c milk
2 egg whites
0.5 c sugar
2.25 c sifted cake flour
c sugar
3 tsp baking powder
tsp salt
0.33 c cooking oil
2 egg yolks

Split vanilla bean; remove seeds. Add vanilla bean to milk; let stand 3 hours. Remove bean; discard. Beat egg whites to soft peaks; gradually add the 0.5 c sugar, beating till very stiff and glossy. Sift flour, the c sugar, the baking powder, and salt together into another bowl. Add oil and half the milk; beat 1 minute at medium speed on mixer, scraping bowl frequently . Add remaining milk and egg yolks. Beat minute more. Folk in egg-white mixture. Turn into 2 paper lined 9x1.5" round cake pans; bake in moderate oven (350d) for 25-30 minutes. Cool slightly; remove from pans. Cool. Spread one layer with Custard filling. Top with second cake layer.

Custard Filling:
Combine 1/3 c sugar, 2 tbsp all-purpose flour, tbsp cornstarch, and 0.25 tsp salt. Gradually add 1.5 c milk; mix well. Cook and stir over medium heat till thickened and boiling; cook 2-3 minutes more. Beat together 1 egg and 1 egg yolk; stir a little of the hot mixture into egg; regurn to hot mixture. Cook and stir till mixture boils. Stir in tsp vanilla. Cover surface with waxed paper; cool.

Chocolate Glaze:
Place one 1-oz square unsweetened chocolate and tbsp vutter or margarine in small saucepan. Stir over low heat till melted. Remove from heat; add c sifted confectioners' sugar and 0.5 tsp vanilla. Blend in enough boiling water to make soft enough to spread. Spread on cake.

Having archaeologically excavated a baguette pan from an undisclosed location in our kitchen, I got it into my head that I was going to attempt to use it.

Stop laughing.

In doing my pre-bake research, I found about as many recipes as authors, with wildly disparate measurements. Much debate abounds on diagonal v. lengthwise slitting. One recipe wanted me to let the dough rise no fewer than four times and keep track of the relative humidity in the room. Having no hygrometer handy, "Yea and verily," I said to myself, "Fuck that noise." Hey, I never said I was masochistic, or thoroughly modern...or rated PG for that matter.

( What I Actually Did )

Can't remember having posted this recipe before, though I made it at least once while I was living in Dublin. smarriveurr walked into the kitchen and pronounced that smelled so good he was certain it was illegal--high praise from a man who isn't that excited about veg. Admittedly, I served it with pork schnitzel and Killian's, but even before I started cooking any meat he pronounced the smell delicious.

Cream of Cauliflower Soup

head of cauliflower
half a lemon*
small onion, diced
2 ribs celery, diced
50-60 g/half a stick butter
2 palmfuls flour
450 mL/2 c chicken stock
large handful powdered milk
eence each nutmeg and paprika

Cut apart cauliflower into florets, and place with a couple centimetres of water and half the lemon into a large pot. Bring to a boil, and cook 10 minutes, or until the florets are tender. Drain, reserving liquid. Discard lemon.

Place 2/3 of the florets into a blender or food processor, reserving the rest. Grind, using cooking liquid if necessary.

Add onion, celery and butter to cooking pot, and cook until onions are golden. Add flour, and stir until combined. Pour in chicken stock, stirring continuously, until a thick soup base has formed. Add cooking liquid, cauliflower puree, powdered milk, and spices. Stir to combine. Season to taste.

*I actually used an ascorbic acid tablet left over from canning tomatoes, but lemon does the same thing.

3.5 c/435 g sifted flour
2.5 tsp baking powder
tsp baking soda
0.5 tsp salt
0.25 tsp cream of tartar
c/250 g sugar
tsp cinnamon
0.25 tsp cardamom
3 large eggs, separated
tbsp fresh lemon juice
0.33 c/75 mL vegetable oil
0.25 c/55 mL honey
c/225 mL warm black coffee

Preheat oven to 350ºF/180ºC. Grease and flour a 10"/25 cm tube pan.

Mix and sift flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and cream of tartar. Place in bowl; make a well, and add sugar, cinnamon, egg yolks, lemon juice, oil, honey, and coffee. Stir to combine.

Beat egg whites to stiff peaks. Gently fold egg whites into batter. Pour into prepared pan. Bake 60 minutes, or until a toothpick comes out clean.

In a return to normalcy, the crust of my squash pie is decidedly not pretty. Oh, well. It smells nice.

And before you start thinking this is weird, it tastes very nearly like pumpkin pie.

Butternut Squash Pie

pie crust
250 g/cup sugar
spice to taste (I used fairly large quantities of cardamom, cinnamon, nutmeg, clove and ginger. YMMV)
dash salt
tbsp butter, melted
450 mL/2 c hot milk
650 g/2 c squash puree
3 eggs

Preheat oven to 220ºC/425ºF. Combine ingredients except for pie crust, and whisk to remove most large lumps. Pour into unbaked pie crust and bake for 40 minutes, or until knife inserted in centre comes out clean (custard is set).

This is downstairs cooling at the moment, but as soon as I'm not going to burn myself I'm cutting a huge slice.

So, in reference to my earlier entry, this pie has decided to make a liar out of me. Having changed everything in my pie crust method except my Grandma W's ingredient measurements, I have made my first nice-looking pie crust ever, I swear. The taste would have made up for the aesthetics in tonight's supper had it failed, though.

Thanks to caturah for her tomato recipes--the oven-roasted tomatoes totally worked!

Roasted Tomato Pie

12 tomatoes, halved
oregano, basil and rosemary
olive oil
1.5 medium onions, thinly sliced
3 large cloves garlic, sliced
roux + half and half = cream sauce (optional)
parmagiana-reggiano-romano blend, or whatever hard cheese you like
double pie crust

Lay tomatoes on a baking sheet. Liberally apply herbs and drizzle with olive oil. Leave in 180ºC/350ºF oven until the edges are browned and the pulp is bubbly--about 4 hours. Turn off oven and let the tomatoes cool slightly, which will make them shrink down quite a bit. They'll look leathery and kind of burnt. (This is fine--you meant to burn them creatively, as that adds flavour.)

Make your pie crust, or if you're smart, pull a store-boughten one from the freezer and save yourself the aggravation.

Caramelize your onions (this means burn them creatively and ever so slightly). Add garlic and saute for three minutes more.

Make up a roux-based white sauce. Ask if you have no idea what I'm talking about, but this step is optional. I didn't put in enough cream, or I cooked it a little too long while doing the next step, so it didn't make a gooey sauce as anticipated, and it was fine without said gooey sauce.

Place bottom crust in pie tin. Layer tomatoes and onions in a way that pleases you. Strew (festoon?) with cheese. Add, optionally, your sauce. Secure top crust. Bake at 180ºC/350ºF for about 35 minutes, or until it looks like food.

The taste of this dish was pleasantly different. It was a good choice for a rich-feeling dinner with very little in the pantry.

Moroccan Stuffed Squash

2 butternut squash, halved and seeded
cassia cinnamon
225-250 g/1 cup each lentils and rice
750 mL/3 c chicken stock
tbsp coriander
2 tbsp curry powder
half an onion, 1 rib celery and 1 medium tomato, all diced
butter
salt and pepper

Sprinkle the squash halves with cinnamon, and bake at 180ºC/250ºF until tender. Spread with butter and season to taste.

Meanwhile, cook lentils and rice in chicken stock, with coriander and curry powder. Saute onion, celery and tomato until tender, and add to grains when grains have finished cooking. Spoon over slightly cooled squash halves.

Ladies, we're following our mothers and grandmothers like the trendy fashion plates we are. We're container gardening our organic veg, bypassing pre-packaged convenience for the whole foods section, and knitting and crocheting our own couture. I swear, foxxydancr just started the next big hipster trend: canning.

The tomato bushes and squash vines I started from the seeds left on my cutting board before Easter have grown to pretty fantastic heights/lengths and are producing fruit pretty prolifically. So prolifically, in fact, that I don't think three people can keep up with the sheer quantities of tomato and squash that my little 10-sq-m veg plot is producing. The squash I can store in a basket for a couple months and it'll be fine, but fresh tomatoes don't fare quite so well. Thus, taking a page from my mum and my great aunts, I've turned to canning as a way to keep the fresh tastes of summer around a little bit longer.

Mom made strawberry jelly and apple butter by the bucketload when I was a kid, and my great aunts laid up sauerkraut and applesauce in their pleasantly cool cellar. I've made rose-apple jelly, and lättwerk when the pectin failed, so I figured that simple canning couldn't be terribly difficult. It's not, but I don't recommend it for the terminally accident-prone.

( How I Managed )

On the occasion that there was a special on veal, I wanted to make this dish, but realised that since I don't really drink white wine, I hadn't any in the house. Mais, j'ai eu un peu de champagne, et voilá, I made do, and had plenty left over for...um...chef's prerogative. Thusly, "But Why is the Rum Gone?" Test Kitchens bring you

Veal Paprikash

kg or so veal, cut into bite-sized pieces
olive oil
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 large onions, diced
tablespoon ground sweet paprika
teaspoon salt
0.5 teaspoon black pepper
tablespoon chopped parsley
250 mL/cup dry white wine
250 mL/cup chicken stock
2 tablespoons cornstarch
225 mL/cup sour cream

Brown your veal, lightly, over a medium-high flame; be careful, as veal doesn't stand up well to very hot cooking, says Saint Alton! Toss in your garlic and onions, and cook until fragrant and translucent, respectively. Stir in your spices, and go to pour in your wine. Realise that all you drink is red, so all you have is red. Remember bottle of Jacquesson et Fils brut gathering dust on the door of the fridge. Confuse the neighbours by very gingerly popping the cork out-of-doors, looking for all the world like the bottle is going to explode on you. Be happily surprised that nothing breaks but the seal on the bottle. Pour yourself a glass of champers. Swirl several glugs over your veal. Reduce heat to low, cover with a tight-fitting lid, and leave to simmer for 45 minutes.

Check liquid level every 15 minutes, and give it a stir. Refill your champagne flute, because...y'know...it's small. If your liquid's getting a little low, stir in some of the chicken stock.

After 45 minutes, pour in the rest of the chicken stock. Combine cornstarch with an equal amount of cold water, and stir in; cook until thickened, stirring frequently. Stir in sour cream and heat through, but do *not* boil, or it will get all icky on you.

Really good over rice and with salad.

In an attempt to get my lurgified self excited about eating anything today (besides the delicious cherries from our tree), I embarked on several intriguing dishes for supper.

Meatballs

They're so easy that it's surprising that I don't make meatballs often at all--in fact I think I may have done them only two or three times ever--but I'd picked up 700 grammes of ground beef and was feeling...well, interesting. I was also incorrect about the matzoh being used up by someone else in the house by eating it with butter and salt, as I used the last of it for this dish.

700 g ground beef
1.5 crackers' worth of matzoh meal
egg
2 tablespoons Penzey's Bavarian spice mix
3 tbsp water
salt and pepper

Mix, and chill for a couple hours before forming into 3-cm balls. Bake at 180°C/350°F for 50 minutes or so, or until brown and sizzly.

Matlouh

This is a flatbread I learnt to make from a Canadian daughter of Moroccan immigrants. It's similar to the other flatbreads I've made, except for the one that called for buttermilk.

375 g/3 cups flour (I used 0.5 c brown and 2.5 c plain)
2 teaspoons dry yeast
teaspoon salt
2.5 dL/cup warm water
more olive oil than you really think you'll need

Mix dry ingredients. Add all the water at once, making a soft, sticky dough. Brush with olive oil, and allow to rise until doubled. Divide into 3 sections.

Knead each section out into a long rectangle. Fold in thirds to make a thinner, long rectangle. Flatten slightly. Roll from one end, flattening the other end and tucking the tips into the centre of the roll. Drizzle each with olive oil again, and allow to rise for 30 minutes.

Heat a cast-iron skillet over medium fire. Flatten a round of dough into a circle nearly as big as your skillet and no more than 1.5 cm thick. Lay in skillet and cook until the top is slightly opaque and poofy, and the bottom is pleasantly golden-with-slight-char (you've seen Indian breads, I'm sure). Flip, and cook until the other side looks the same.

Tagine

I honestly didn't measure a bloody thing for this dish, but it's basically my 2-Chick, minus the chicken, substituting lentils for the chickpeas, and adding broccoli and a goodly helping of garam masala.