Bengali food encompasses so many beautiful dishes—the pillowy golden rice of biryani, the salty-sweet prawn malai curry, luchi – fried bread that inflates like a hot air balloon… But I can’t cook any of that. What I can cook is one dish – the simple chicken curry.

Bengalis shouldn’t even use the phrase ‘easy as pie’; they should say ‘easy as chicken curry’. All you have to do is fry some garlic, ginger, onion and cumin in a pan. Next, throw in the chicken with salt, turmeric and chilli powder. Finally, turn it into a curry with canned tomatoes, yoghurt and a few spices. Pop it in the pressure cooker – and done!

Okay, maybe my parents have a slightly wild definition of ‘easy’. But this is the dish I would cook for you at Oxford, because it’s practically impossible to mess up…

Of course, there are tips and tricks. Like ghostly annotations in a library book, my dad passed down secrets to make this dish pop. Crush the garlic, don’t cut it. Oh, and never ask ‘how long’ anything should take. Let the food tell you. The onions are ready when they turn brown; the chicken is ready when it turns white. The pressure cooker will literally tell you when it’s ready from its whistles. 

Another rule is to never measure anything, either. Comparing my dad’s large hands to my smaller ones, I’ve learnt that it’s useful to have a ‘rule of thumb’. Always add a little more of everything. More oil, more salt. After all, a ‘pinch’ or a ‘handful’ in my dad’s big hands is quite different than in mine. I know that these generous measurements make Bengali cuisine slightly lethal to the arteries, but what can I say? To my family, a little more means a little more love.

So, as I go about Oxford, unwrapping my next meal deal sandwich, or waiting for the kettle to boil for my ramen, my thoughts wander to this wonderful dish. I am filled with memories of standing by my dad’s side in the kitchen as we listen to the golden oldies station.

So please, come on over so I can make a chicken curry for you – and let’s fill the college kitchen with a little homemade magic.