Born in Mumbai, Camellia Panjabi transformed global perceptions of Indian food with ‘50 Great Curries of India’. Now, with ‘Vegetables: The Indian Way’, she returns with over 120 vibrant recipes rooted in Indian traditions and modern nutrition. Blending Ayurvedic wisdom with science, the book highlights gut-friendly techniques like sprouting, fermenting, and tempering, and the healing power of spices. A pioneer of plant-based advocacy in the UK, Panjabi makes a compelling case for vegetables as key to flavour, health, and longevity.
In an interview with Asian Voice, Camellia spoke about the inspiration behind her book, how heritage shaped her cooking philosophy and much more.
Your previous book, 50 Great Curries of India, became an international sensation. What inspired you to return with a book focused entirely on vegetables?
When Covid struck, I was stuck in London during a short visit as airports shut down. Reflecting on my life as a hotelier and restaurateur, I realised that vegetables had always been treated as side dishes on menus, while at home, they made up three-quarters of our meals. I decided it was time to change that narrative and make vegetables the hero. India has an incredible variety, over 30 types, including unripe fruits like banana, jackfruit, and mango used as vegetables. I created an encyclopaedic cookbook, with a chapter for each vegetable covering its origin, nutritional profile, Ayurvedic insights, and whether it's acidic or alkaline. Each entry includes 2–4 recipes; snacks, chaat, kids' dishes, pulaos, even desserts designed to be both healthy and delicious. Drawing on my restaurant experience, I focused on elevating taste, showing how even simple dishes like dal, saag, or pulao can be truly satisfying.
You’ve included nutritional notes with each recipe, what kind of research went into that?
My mother, a doctor, taught us early on to see food as medicine—a lesson that shaped my cooking, especially during Covid when I had time to research ingredients deeply. I revisited traditional wisdom around ghee, mustard oil, spices, millets, and superfoods like amla, comparing it with modern nutrition. For example, I learned that ghee made from cultured yogurt has different benefits than today’s cream-based version. I’ve grouped vegetables by how they grow—underground, on vines, in water—each with distinct health properties. The book blends cultural insight, nutritional science, and practical recipes to reclaim the true value of Indian vegetarian cuisine.
How has your South Asian heritage shaped your approach to cooking and food philosophy?
I believe one of the key differences in Indian food culture is that we rarely eat ingredients in isolation. Unlike the West, where a meal might consist of just fish and chips or a single steak, Indian meals typically involve two or three complementary dishes that balance each other nutritionally. For instance, a lentil pulao isn’t just a rice dish, it combines dal and rice to create a complete protein. Even a peas pulao does the same, as peas are legumes. These combinations reflect a deeper nutritional logic that often goes unnoticed. I also naturally incorporate spices into everything, not just for flavour, but for their digestive and medicinal properties. Each spice in Indian cooking serves a purpose, and while Western cuisine is beginning to use ingredients like turmeric or cardamom, the awareness of their benefits is still limited. My book isn’t just for vegetarians, it’s for anyone who eats vegetables, which is all of us. It’s about understanding why we combine ingredients the way we do, and how to make every vegetable dish both healthy and delicious.
Are there any ingredients or culinary practices you think the world is only beginning to discover from Indian kitchens?
Lentils are a hugely underappreciated ingredient in the West and often don’t know how to cook them. Yet in Indian restaurants, diners love dishes like yellow dal or black dal, without realising how many types of yellow dals exist, each with unique textures and flavours. Millets are also gaining attention for being gluten-free and nutrient-rich, but even many Indians don’t know how to cook them properly. For example, making a soft jowar roti is a challenge. Chickpeas have become globally popular, but most people rely on tinned versions and don’t fully capture the complexity of Indian preparations. Spinach is another example; it's loved but often just boiled, stripping away its potential. Traditional Indian practices like using parboiled rice in the South, where nutrients from the husk are retained during processing, also carry deep health logic that’s largely forgotten, even among modern Indians. This book aims to revive that lost knowledge and serve as a catalyst for more informed, conscious cooking.
What message do you hope this book sends to the younger generations especially those from the South Asian diaspora about their food traditions?
I want readers, especially the younger generation, to feel excited and inspired. Today’s youth are deeply conscious about health and nutrition, and this book taps into that mindset. For the diaspora, who may have missed out on generational guidance in the kitchen, this is a chance to rediscover those traditions. With clear plans and beautiful visuals, they can dive in and start cooking for themselves. There’s real joy in creating something nourishing and delicious—and seeing those vibrant, colourful dishes come to life will make the journey even more rewarding.
