Indian Cuisine - Samosa

Samosa

History

The SAMOSA probably travelled to India along ancient trade routes from Central Asia. Small, crisp mince-filled triangles that were easy to make around the campfire during night halts, then conveniently packed into saddlebags as snacks for the next day's journey. According to the “The Oxford Companion to Food” the Indian samosa is merely the best known of an entire family of stuffed pastries or dumplings popular from Egypt and Zanzibar to Central Asia and West China. Arab cookery books of the 10th and 13th Centuries refer to the pastries as sanbusak (the pronunciation still current in Egypt, Syria, & Lebanon), sanbusaq or sanbusaj, all reflecting the early medieval form of the Persian word: sanbosag. Claudia Roden (1968) quotes a poem by Ishaq ibn Ibrahim-al-Mausili (9th Century) praising the sanbusaj.

By the early 14th Century, it was not only a part of Indian cuisine but also food fit for a king. Amir Khusrao, prolific poet of Delhi royalty, observed in 1300 that the royal set seemed partial to the "samosa prepared from meat, ghee, onion and so on". In 1334, the renowned traveller Ibn Battuta wrote about the sambusak: "minced meat cooked with almonds, pistachios, onions and spices placed inside a thin envelop of wheat and deep-fried in ghee". And the samosa obtained a royal stamp with its inclusion in the Ain-i-Akbari which declared that among dishes cooked with wheat there is the qutab, "which the people of Hind called the sanbusa".

The current day samosas are small, crispy, flaky pastries that are usually deep-fried. They are stuffed with an assortment of fillings ranging from minced meat with herbs and spices to vegetables such as cauliflower and potatoes. In Bengal one finds samosas filled with sweetened reduced milk that go straight from the frying pan to a syrup wash. But whatever the filling, samosas are a treasured snack---the perfect companion to a cup of chai.

How to make the perfect Samosa

Stuffing

Samosas come in many forms, but, in a country where 20%-40% of the population is vegetarian, the meat-free version is the most popular. Potato tends to form the bulk of the filling, usually pre-cooked and mashed, though Daley sautes raw cubes until “tender but still retaining some bite”. This keeps all the ingredients separate, but I rather like the contrast between the fluffiness of the mash and the crisp pastry.

Everyone uses onion in some form (although not always cooked) and Sodha and Daley stick in some garlic, too. Peas are also popular, with Simon Hopkinson suggesting that if fresh aren’t in season, “I would prefer marrowfat peas” to the frozen variety, although they’re too mushily similar to the potato for my liking. Smaller peas add sweetness, too, as does Daley’s carrot and Sodha’s beetroot, all of which are a great counterpoint to the spice.

Along with carrot, potato, peas and two sorts of onion, Daley sticks in some shredded cabbage, which gives his filling a surprising lightness, as well as a pleasing variety my testers prefer to the stodginess of Jaffrey’s overwhelmingly potatoey one. Feel free to use whatever ingredients you have to hand, while aiming for a variety of textures and flavours; something soft, something crunchy, something sweet and something savoury – which, in Sodha and Singh’s cases, means cheese.

Sodha uses salty, crumbly feta, and Singh the much milder, creamier paneer, which feels the more authentic choice, although I’d recommend salting it first to add flavour. The chef also adds rich, crunchy cashew nuts, which, though rarely unwelcome, feel like overkill with the cheese, although if you’d prefer a vegan recipe, they’re an excellent alternative.

Spicing

However simple you choose to keep your filling, a touch of spice is non-negotiable. The sweet heat of ginger and chillies, as deployed by Jaffrey, Daley and Singh works well, as does the fresh aromatic flavour of the equally popular fresh coriander.

Daley employs the most complex spicing, using mustard seeds, fenugreek, asafoetida, curry leaves, turmeric and dried red pepper, plus his mother-in-law’s “secret ingredient”: a special masala used solely for samosas – “It was with some reluctance and a good deal or persuasion on my part that she eventually gave me the details.”

It has cinnamon, cloves, cumin and chilli to thank for its “distinctive scent and flavour”, which my testers can’t quite put their finger on – what they do know is that they like it. As most of the other recipes use garam masala, which tends to contain some of the same ingredients, along with extra chilli and cumin, I don’t think my recipe requires much else, and certainly not the sugar that Daley and Singh also stir in. A finishing squeeze of lemon juice, however, rounds things off nicely.

Folding

Punjabi Version

Shaping the samosas is by far the most complicated element of the whole procedure, although one that is mastered fairly quickly. Sodha recommends cutting trapeziums and Daley devotes a whole page to his method, which involves rolling a stack of pastry rounds together and then heating them to dry them out before use. Two pages may have been better for slow learners like me, because I find it impossible to separate the rounds after rolling them together – and, in any case, the whole thing seems needlessly fiddly when Jaffrey and Singh’s semi-circles, rolled into a cone shape before stuffing, work so well.

Cooking

Sodha, ever the maverick, bakes her samosas for a “lighter, less oily” result. Again, it works fine (200C/390F for about 15 minutes, until golden brown), but a baked samosa will never achieve the same puffy, flaky richness as the deep-fried variety. As with the chicken kiev or the scotch egg, there really is no substitute for a pan of hot fat and some strong nerves.

Make sure the oil doesn’t get too hot, though; as Singh observes, you need to keep the heat medium-low heat otherwise the pastry shell won’t cook through before the outside burns.

Recipe  :

For the pastry

130g plain flour

¼ tsp salt

½ tsp nigella seeds (optional)

2 tbsp neutral oil, plus extra to grease

For the masala

10g cinnamon sticks

1 tsp cloves

1½ tsp cumin seeds

3-4 small dried red chillies

For the filling

1 medium potato, about 175g

1 tbsp finely grated ginger

1 small green chilli, finely chopped

1 tbsp neutral oil

½ onion, finely chopped

½ carrot, finely chopped

50g green cabbage, cored and finely shredded

40g peas

50g paneer, cut into small dice

Fine salt

Juice of ½ lemon

Small bunch of coriander, finely chopped

Neutral oil, to deep fry

To make the pastry, put the flour in a large bowl and whisk in the salt and nigella seeds, if using. Add the oil and rub in with your fingers, then gradually add just enough cold water to bring it together into a stiff dough – about 50ml should do it. Knead for about five minutes until smooth, then lightly oil, cover and set aside to rest.

Put the potato, skin on, into a small pan, cover with cold, well-salted water, bring to the boil, then simmer until tender. Drain and mash.

Meanwhile, toast the ingredients for the masala together in a hot pan until fragrant, then allow to cool and grind until you have a smooth powder. Mash the ginger and chilli together into a paste.

Heat the oil in a large frying pan over a medium heat and fry the onion until soft and golden, then stir in the carrot, turn down the heat a little and cook for five minutes, then stir in the cabbage and cook until beginning to soften. Turn up the heat to medium-high and salt the paneer well, then add to the pan along with the peas. Cook for a couple of minutes, then stir in the ginger chilli paste and half a teaspoon of the masala and cook for another couple of minutes, stirring. Stir in the potato and lemon juice and season to taste.

Divide the pastry into 12 balls of about 18g each for small samosas, or 6 balls of about 35g for slightly larger ones, and put all but one under a damp cloth. Roll the ball out on a lightly greased surface to a circle about 18cm (10cm for small) in diameter and cut in half. Pick up one half, wet the round edge with water and form into a cone shape, overlapping the wet edge and pressing together to seal.

Stir the coriander into the mixture, then fill the cones. Wet the top edge, pinch to close and fold over any remaining flap of pastry. Repeat with the remaining pastry, making sure each samosa is well sealed.

Heat a deep frying pan with about 4cm of oil to about 175C/347F, or use a fryer. When the oil has come to temperature add a batch of samosas (don’t overcrowd the pan) and cook until golden brown, turning as necessary. Scoop on to paper towels and serve immediately.

Reference  : 

http://www.samosa-connection.com/origin.htm

https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/wordofmouth/2015/nov/26/how-to-make-the-perfect-samosas