A former work colleague of mine, native to Nandyal in Southern India, would jump at every opportunity to remind me that the food in our British curry houses isn’t truly authentic fayre. I think we’ve all known this for quite some time, deep down, not least because two of the most popular dishes on every menu are commonly known to have been created over here! Still, this has always been the furthest thing from my mind whilst enjoying a slap-up meal down the Curry Mile. One thing that can’t be ignored, however, is that the majority of food on the curry house menu does at least have its roots in the Subcontinent, although perhaps in name alone.

Bhuna would be a good example. Order one in your local Indian, Pakistani or Bangladeshi restaurant or takeaway and you know exactly what you’re getting; the meat of your choice swimming in a spiced gravy. But what of the bhunas served at bazaars, by street vendors and by ‘homemakers’ in these countries? Not an easy answer to track down by any stretch, but many accounts describe the dish in a different light. Bhuna, meaning ‘brown’ in Hindi/Urdu, is a cooking method by which a masala of spices are browned in a karahi pan before the dish’s other ingredients are added to receive the same treatment. Instead of a thin gravy, the cooking liquor is heavily reduced down to coat the meat, ultimately creating quite a dry dish, ideal for eating with flatbreads such as my personal favourite, chapatis. As for the bhuna’s origins, I suspect that might be a leap too far into history, although I was quite taken by a suggestion that it was influenced by the Tibetan/Chinese method of stir-frying. Geographically, that appears to hold water with China’s proximity to Bangladesh and Punjab (seemingly bhuna central) although it is a dish enjoyed far wider than in just these territories.

This Bhuna Gosht recipe has been a firm favourite of mine for the best part of a decade. The ‘gosht’ (or meat) that I’d normally use would be shoulder of lamb but on this occasion I had the opportunity to use mutton from a reputable Lakeland farm. The depth of the dish is just astounding, with the fennel seed and fenugreek flavours so far removed from those that you would shovel down with several pints of Cobra beer at the nearest balti tavern… not that I’m promising to give up the latter! Here’s the skinny… > > Read on > >