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Vegan Curry — The Recipes I’m Writing Down Before I Have To

Amma's doctor appointment. Dr. Subramanian — a Tamil man in his sixties who has the bedside manner of a kind uncle and the clinical acumen to see through Appa's "just a routine checkup" nonsense immediately. I wasn't there. Appa wouldn't let me come. "It's a checkup, Priya, not a summit meeting." But Appa called me afterward, and the fact that he called me — not the other way around — told me the appointment was more than routine. Dr. Subramanian ran the standard cognitive screening — the Mini-Mental State Exam, or MMSE. Amma scored 26 out of 30. Normal is 24-30. She's technically in the normal range. But Dr. Subramanian noted that for a woman of Amma's education level (a former chemistry professor), a score of 26 is lower than expected. He recommended follow-up testing in six months and suggested a referral to a neurologist "if the family has concerns." "If the family has concerns." We have concerns. We have nothing but concerns. Appa reported this with the tone of a man who has been vindicated. "Twenty-six out of thirty. Normal range. I told you she's fine." "It's at the lower end of normal for someone with her background, Appa." "It's normal, Priya." I let it go. For now. Because twenty-six is normal. Because "lower than expected" is not a diagnosis. Because I am nine and a half weeks pregnant and I cannot fight every battle simultaneously. I called Arvind. He said what I was thinking: "We watch. We wait. We do the follow-up in six months." "And if she gets worse?" "Then we push harder." I made Amma's rasam for dinner — the everyday version, quick and peppery. I made it from her recipe, the one I wrote down, the one that exists because I wrote it down. Twenty-six out of thirty. Normal range. But I'm writing everything down anyway. Every recipe, every technique, every measurement she gives me when she says "enough" instead of "two teaspoons." Because twenty-six can become twenty-five. And twenty-five can become twenty. And twenty can become the day she doesn't know what cinnamon is, not just the word but the spice itself. I'm writing it all down. Just in case.

Rasam was the dish I reached for that night — quick, peppery, and entirely hers — but the recipe I keep coming back to, the one I’ve been testing and measuring and writing out in full sentences instead of letting it live in my hands the way it lived in hers, is this curry. It’s the kind of dish Amma made without thinking: a handful of this, enough of that, heat until it smells right. I’ve been translating those instincts into teaspoons and minutes, because twenty-six out of thirty is still a number that lives in my chest, and I am not willing to let a single recipe dissolve into the space between “enough” and “two teaspoons.” This is what writing it all down looks like.

Everyday Vegan Curry

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 30 min | Total Time: 45 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

  • 2 tablespoons coconut oil or neutral oil
  • 1 teaspoon mustard seeds
  • 1 teaspoon cumin seeds
  • 1 medium yellow onion, finely diced
  • 4 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1-inch piece fresh ginger, grated
  • 2 medium tomatoes, roughly chopped (or one 14-oz can diced tomatoes)
  • 1 teaspoon ground coriander
  • 1 teaspoon ground cumin
  • 1/2 teaspoon ground turmeric
  • 1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper (adjust to taste)
  • 1 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
  • 1 can (14 oz) full-fat coconut milk
  • 1 can (15 oz) chickpeas, drained and rinsed
  • 2 cups cauliflower florets (about 1/2 small head)
  • 1 cup frozen peas
  • 1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
  • Fresh cilantro, for serving
  • Cooked basmati rice or flatbread, for serving

Instructions

  1. Bloom the whole spices. Heat the oil in a large, heavy-bottomed pot or Dutch oven over medium heat. Once shimmering, add the mustard seeds and cumin seeds. Let them sizzle and pop for about 30 seconds, until fragrant. Do not walk away — they go from bloomed to burnt quickly.
  2. Build the base. Add the diced onion and cook, stirring occasionally, for 8 to 10 minutes until softened and beginning to turn golden at the edges. Add the garlic and ginger and cook another 2 minutes, stirring constantly, until the raw smell is gone.
  3. Add tomatoes and ground spices. Stir in the chopped tomatoes, coriander, cumin, turmeric, cayenne, and salt. Cook over medium heat, stirring frequently, for 6 to 8 minutes until the tomatoes have broken down and the oil begins to separate from the masala at the edges of the pan. This step matters — don’t rush it.
  4. Add coconut milk and vegetables. Pour in the coconut milk and stir to combine. Add the chickpeas and cauliflower florets. Bring to a gentle simmer over medium-low heat, cover partially, and cook for 15 minutes until the cauliflower is just tender when pierced with a fork.
  5. Finish the curry. Stir in the frozen peas and cook uncovered for 3 to 4 minutes until heated through. Add the lemon juice. Taste and adjust salt and cayenne as needed.
  6. Serve. Ladle over basmati rice or serve alongside warm flatbread. Top with fresh cilantro. This reheats beautifully the next day — the flavors only deepen.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 385 | Protein: 12g | Fat: 22g | Carbs: 38g | Fiber: 9g | Sodium: 610mg

Priya Krishnamurthy
About the cook who shared this
Priya Krishnamurthy
Week 80 of Priya’s 30-year story · Edison, New Jersey
Priya is a pharmacist, wife, and mom of two in Edison, New Jersey — the town she grew up in, surrounded by the sights and smells of her mother's South Indian kitchen. These days, she splits her time between the hospital pharmacy, school pickups, and her own kitchen, where she cooks nearly every night. Her style is a blend of the Tamil recipes her mother taught her and the American comfort food her kids actually want to eat. She writes about the beautiful mess of balancing two cultures on one plate — and she wants you to know that ordering pizza is also an act of love.

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