Most standard-size cookbooks showcase between 100 and 150 recipes. In 2008, the author and cooking teacher Raghavan Iyer said “pshaw” and published his magnum opus, “660 Curries.”
“To us Indians, a curry is a sauce-based dish,” said Iyer, meaning “curry” as employed in Western instances like all-purpose “curry powder” is a term so general as to lose all significance. Curry instead is both the alpha and the omega. It’s both a saucy dish across the subcontinent and a hyper-regional way of preparing said saucy dishes.
Name your cooking weapon
Pick a base, and you are nearly guaranteed at least one recipe for it in “660 Curries.” More often, you will be bombarded with an array of options.
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Consider the legume. Yellow split peas, horse gram, chickpeas, brown lentils and moth beans — Iyer assembles an armada of more than 15 different types of legumes for the Legume Curries chapter. The hits are present, including a faultless recipe for the restaurant icon, dal makhani, with its whole black lentils opulent with Punjabi garam masala, yogurt and heavy cream.
A behemoth is forever going to do the absolute most, so lesser-known regional specialties are everywhere across the book. Toovar dal (split yellow pigeon peas) is softened in a bath of unripe green mango, green bell pepper and coconut milk in a dish from the southwestern state of Kerala. Stressing the omnipresent influence of the Portuguese colonizers, chorizo cooks with red kidney beans and black-eyed peas in a spunky chile-vinegar tomato sauce in a Goan adaptation of Brazilian feijoada. Here and in the book’s other chapters on vegetables, seafood, poultry and eggs, meat, and paneer, curry is no catch-all. It slips, shifts and adapts.
To the curry-sphere and beyond
Iyer cheated a touch with the book’s title because some chapters exist outside of the sauce world. The opening chapter, Spice Blends and Paste, provides a constellation of building blocks and endless masalas with seven types of garam masala alone.
The final chapter, Curry Cohorts, dabbles in a touch of everything: rice preparations, including a Maharashtrian-style fried rice with peanuts and curry leaves; all manner of breads, such as poori, roti and naan; and even a mango cheesecake and saffron-licked green tea. “660 Curries” is an imposing endeavor. And, oh, how the book’s recipes work.
Iyer died, too young, at 61 in 2023. He was an admired teacher and an indefatigable researcher. And almost 20 years later, “660 Curries” remains as essential as it was when it first appeared. Scratch that. “660 Curries” is all the more pertinent now. The world needed time to embrace its sweeping, detailed grandeur.
