Book Review: Monsoon

Delicious Indian Recipes for Every Day and Season by Asma Khan

A Seasonal Celebration of Indian Home Cooking

Asma Khan’s Monsoon: Delicious Indian Recipes for Every Day and Season is a vibrant exploration of Indian culinary traditions, organized not by courses but by the six seasons of the subcontinent and the six Ayurvedic tastes. Best known for founding Darjeeling Express in London—one of the first all-women cookery teams in a professional kitchen—Khan offers readers a window into her Kolkata childhood and her London home kitchen. With 80 recipes ranging from everyday dinners to celebratory feasts, Monsoon moves beyond the usual starters, mains, desserts framework to guide home cooks through the year with dishes that honour both local produce and age-old Ayurvedic wisdom.

Organizing by Six Seasons and Six Tastes

Rather than following a standard Western cookbook structure, Monsoon divides its content into chapters named for spring, summer, monsoon, autumn, dry season, and winter—each associated with one of the six core tastes identified in Ayurveda: tangy, bitter, hot, sweet, sour, and salty. This framework encourages readers to attune their menus to nature’s rhythms, reminding us that what grows abundantly in one season may be less available in another. Full-page intros to each chapter blend personal anecdotes (Khan’s childhood memories of Kolkata’s sudden rainstorms or the aroma of mustard oil heating on the tawa) with reflections on the season’s dominant ingredients and flavor profiles. Sidebars list pantry essentials—ghee, whole spices, lentils, flours—ensuring that even cooks new to Indian home kitchens know which staples to keep on hand.

By organizing recipes this way, Khan also emphasizes balance: a bitter-forward dish in spring (such as a mustard-leaf and bitter-gourd stir-fry) can be tempered with a sweet-and-tangy chutney downstream. Each season’s chapter concludes with a two-page spread on its corresponding Ayurvedic taste, explaining why it matters (for instance, why tanginess helps in cool spring months) and offering tips on balancing flavors (adding jaggery to a too-sour curry, for example). This approach not only educates readers on flavor principles but also provides an accessible roadmap for improvisation.

Recipes that Mirror Nature’s Rhythms

At its core, Monsoon is a cookbook brimming with dishes that feel both nostalgic and new. In “Monsoon” (the season), Khan opens with Monsoon Pakora, her all-time favorite rainy-day snack: gram-flour fritters studded with spinach, green chilies, and ajwain (carom seeds), served alongside sweet tamarind-date chutney and an icy glass of masala chai. Her instructions for the pakora batter are meticulous—how long to rest it to achieve the perfect aeration; when to add fresh chopped herbs so they don’t turn soggy; and how to maintain oil temperature so the fritters come out crisp but not greasy.

In “Summer,” Khan offers Chicken Cooked in Pickling Spices, a dish redolent of tangy vinegar, mustard seeds, and nigella, reflecting the preservation traditions of Bengal’s blistering heat. She walks readers through the blistering of green chilies over an open flame, the step-by-step pickling masala tempering, and how to finish the chicken so it remains juicy under layers of spices. That same chapter presents Rice Pulao with Oranges, a lightgrain dish ideal for sweltering afternoons; the hint of citrus flower water in the rice elevates it beyond typical summer fare.

Autumn brings Pumpkin Dal, a creamy, warming dal simmered with turmeric, cumin, and hing (asafoetida), streaked with a temper of fresh curry leaves and garlic in ghee. Khan’s notes here are invaluable: how to select a sugar-pumpkin for its natural sweetness, how to adjust the lentil-to-pumpkin ratio depending on your family’s preference, and how to finish the dal with a squeeze of lime to brighten its rich flavors. The “Winter” chapter, devoted to hearty comfort, includes Slow-Cooked Lamb with Vinegar, where lamb is braised over low heat in a spiced vinegar broth until the meat falls apart at the slightest touch.

Vegetarian and vegan readers will find much to love: Bengali Pumpkin Curry, Haldi Methi (Turmeric-fenugreek) Stir-Fry, and Makhana Kheer (Fox-nut Pudding) each showcase plant-forward traditions without ever feeling like an afterthought. While many recipes draw from Khan’s Bengali heritage—lamps of mustard oil in nearly every page—she also includes dishes from Goa, Kerala, and Punjab, ensuring well-rounded representation of pan-Indian flavors.

Storytelling, Narrative, and Personal Essays

Monsoon interviews personal narratives and cultural context. Each recipe page is more than ingredient lists and numbered steps; it’s punctuated with Khan’s reflections on why a dish matters, who she learned it from, and how it has evolved. In the “Dry Season” chapter, Khan shares a story about her grandmother’s clay hearth in Kolkata, where roti doughs puffed up over smoldering red-hot coals. In another essay, she recalls teaching her children to make crisp parathas on a rainy afternoon in London, bridging her past in India with her present life in the U.K.

Khan also uses short digressive essays to delve into topics like the importance of andaaz (cooking by feel rather than by strict measurements), the role of spice grinding in creating depth of flavor, and how Ayurvedic principles influenced her own healing journey after a bout of illness. These asides remind readers that food is never just about sustenance—it’s memory, identity, and healing.

Photography, Layout, and Practical Tips

Monsoon is a visual feast. Early pastel spreads—lavender skies for spring, fiery reds for summer—set the mood for each chapter. Recipe pages follow a clean, functional layout: ingredients in a bold column on the left, numbered steps on the right, with callouts for technique tips (for instance, how to know when spices are properly “bloomed” in oil). Full-page photographs alternate between stylized ingredient spreads—cumin-seed spoons on wooden boards, fresh green chilies atop banana leaves—and lifestyle shots of Khan herself: stirring a giant pot in her London kitchen, laughing with her all-female brigade, or picking fresh produce in a Kolkata market.

These images serve both to inspire and instruct. Close-ups of a ladle swirling turmeric-streaked dal into a terracotta bowl underscore how texture and color work together. Shots of wooden rolling pins dusted with flour remind readers that cooking Indian breads can be simple with just a rolling pin, board, and little flour. Khan’s choice of everyday utensils—stainless steel bowls, basic kadais, and a humble mortar and pestle—reinforces her message that authenticity need not come with exotic gadgetry.

Balancing Authenticity and Accessibility

Throughout Monsoon, Khan anticipates the challenges home cooks may face in sourcing specialty ingredients. Whenever she calls for fresh kokum (a tangy red fruit common in Goa), she adds a parenthetical note: “(Substitute with dried hibiscus petals or a squeeze of fresh lime plus a pinch of sugar if unavailable).” Similarly, if a recipe demands mahleb (ground cherry pits) or black cardamom pods, she provides clear alternatives—roasted cumin for mahleb’s slight bitterness, ordinary green cardamom for black’s smokier depth—so that no one need feel intimidated.

In most recipes, Khan offers options for stovetop, slow-cooker, or Instant Pot preparation, recognizing that modern kitchens vary widely. For recipes requiring homemade paneer, she spells out an easy 30-minute method but also notes that store-bought paneer or labneh can work if time is short. Her encouragement to “taste as you go,” “adjust spice levels,” and “cook with feel” demystifies complex-sounding preparations, making Monsoon a practical guide for novices and seasoned cooks alike.

Minor Challenges

If there is a caveat, it’s that Monsoon occasionally expects readers to have a well-stocked spice rack. While Khan does list essential pantry items at the book’s start, novices may find identifying obscure ingredients—like dried black lime (kabab chini) or asafoetida—daunting on first glance. However, her thorough substitution notes and the fact that most ingredients appear in multiple recipes help offset this hurdle.

Another minor drawback is that some recipes, particularly in the “Autumn” and “Dry Season” chapters, call for extended cooking times—several hours of braising or steaming—which may feel labor-intensive for weeknights. That said, Khan often suggests how to repurpose leftovers (for instance, turning leftover spiced lamb into wraps) so minimal effort after the initial cook can yield multiple meals.

Final Thoughts

Ultimately, Monsoon: Delicious Indian Recipes for Every Day and Season transcends the typical “celebrity chef” cookbook by marrying deeply personal storytelling with accessible, well-tested recipes. Khan’s emphasis on Ayurveda, seasonal ingredients, and “cooking by feel” invites readers to view Indian cuisine not as a monolith but as a tapestry of regional, familial, and seasonal traditions. Home cooks are encouraged to embrace spontaneity—adding a handful of chopped coriander because it smells good, tweaking a curry’s heat level to suit their palate, or opting for a quick stovetop version when pressed for time.

For those searching for an Indian cookbook that goes beyond mere flavor lists—one that grounds every recipe in cultural context, memory, and seasonal awareness—Monsoon is a must-have. Its blend of narrative essays, striking photography, and practical tips makes it as inspiring to flip through on a rainy afternoon as it is reliable to consult when planning a Sunday dinner. Whether you seek “Asma Khan Monsoon review,” “Indian seasonal cooking,” or “Bengali home recipes,” this book delivers both the stories and the techniques to cook with confidence and heart.