There is a dish I return to, week after week, a recipe that holds me like an old friend. A recipe so simple yet rich with history, so nourishing it can lighten the darkest of days - Kitchari.
I first learned how to make kitchari when I learned Vedic meditation. It was spoken of not just as a meal but as medicine — food designed to bring the body into balance, to rekindle digestion, to soothe the nervous system. Ayurveda calls it the ultimate healing dish, the kind of meal you might make for someone recovering from illness, a mother after childbirth, or yourself when life feels jagged at the edges. It is food that loves you back.
Over time, my own kitchari has evolved, shifting and refining with my own rhythms and learning from great cooks like Cade McConnell. There are many different ways to cook this traditional dish, but I have learned that the way you treat the spices makes the meal. Traditionally, they are bloomed in ghee at the start, but I’ve found that adding them at the end, when the grains and legumes are softened and receptive, unleashes something potent. The aroma is deeper, the warmth more alive. It’s as though the dish is breathing in the spices, drinking in their ancient medicine.
The Ritual of Cooking
Making kitchari is as much about the process as it is about the final bowl. It asks for presence. Slowness. The way you stand at the stove, the way you stir, the way your hands move as you chop the freshest vegetables you can find — all of it matters. Food carries our energy. This is not a meal to cook when you are pressed for time. Ayurveda teaches us that the state of our mind while cooking affects how the meal nourishes us. A rushed, distracted cook with phone in hand, creates food that lands differently in the body. But a meal made with care, with intention, with joy - that is the kind of food that truly nourishes.
On full moons, I like to make the hero of this dish - golden ghee (or “Devi ghee” if you make it on the full moon) from grass-fed butter, stirring it gently as it bubbles and alchemises into liquid gold. There is something undeniably sacred about this, watching butter clarify itself, becoming purer with each passing minute. And when I cook kitchari, I sometimes chant mantras into the pot, letting the vibrations weave themselves into the grains, into the broth. It is an old knowing, this way of cooking. One you can feel and taste.
Another addition to making this dish is to find yourself a clay cooking pot. Once you’ve cooked in clay you will never want to go back. Cooking with the energy of the earth in a clay pot takes this dish (or any) to a new level. These are easy to track down on market place or you can buy them through Quiet Earth.
My Kitchari Recipe
Ingredients:
• 1/2 cup split yellow mung or moong dahl (rinsed well) - Order them online from an Indian retailer or google Indian stores near you and they are bound to have them
• 1/2 cup basmati rice (rinsed well)
• 4.5 cups homemade vegetable stock (or grass-fed bone/chicken broth for extra nourishment)
• 1 small sweet potato, cubed
• 1 zucchini, diced
• 1/2 cup carrot, diced
• 2 tbsp golden ghee (homemade if possible - Jes Chev has a great story on her instagram of how to make your own)
• 1 tsp cumin seeds
• 1 tsp mustard seeds
• 1 tsp rosemary finely chopped
• 1/2 cup leek or onion, finely chopped
• A handful of fresh coriander stems finely chopped
• 1 Tbs fresh ginger, smashed in a mortar & pestle
• 1/2 tsp turmeric
• 1/4 tsp fennel seeds
• 1/4 tsp ajwain seeds
• 1/4 tsp black pepper
• 1/4 tsp asafoetida (hing) - You can use a clove of garlic if you can’t find hing
• 1 Tbs salt, or to more to taste
• Coconut yoghurt, extra ghee, fresh coriander, some chopped nuts and a quarter of lime, to serve
Method:
1. Rinse & Prepare – Rinse the dahl and rice really well. Add them to a pot with plenty of fresh water and let them soak for at least 6 hours or overnight for better digestion. Drain, wash well and add it back to a clean pot with your homemade vegetable stock (or bone/chicken broth).
2. Simmer & Soften – Cut the sweet potato, zucchini, and carrot into cubes (you can really use any 3 veggies you have on hand) and add them to the pot. Bring it all to a low boil with the lid off, stirring gently. Lower the heat and let it simmer until the grains, legumes, and vegetables soften and begin to turn into a porridge like consistency. I like to cook mine low and slow and it sometimes takes an hour. You’ll know when it’s ready when the dahl is cooked through. Take the pot off the heat and place the lid on top and set aside to stay warm.
3. The Magic of Spices – In a separate pan (I like to do this in a cast iron pan), heat the ghee. Add the cumin & mustard seeds and rosemary for 30 seconds - 1min stirring and breathing in the aroma, waiting for the mustard seeds to start popping. Then add the coriander stems and diced leek or onion, letting them soften and release their sweetness. Stir in the smashed ginger and toast for a minute. Then, add the turmeric, fennel seeds, ajwain seeds, black pepper, and asafoetida. Let them bloom for just a few seconds before deglazing the pan with a splash of broth.
4. Unite the Flavours – Stir the spice mixture into the kitchari, letting the warmth unfurl through every grain. Let it sit on low heat for 5 - 15 minutes to allow the flavours to settle into themselves. Sometimes I will make this at lunch and leave on the stove to eat for an early dinner.
5. Serve & Finish – Ladle into bowls, finishing with fresh coriander, a spoon on coconut yoghurt, 1/4 of a lime, some sauerkraut, chopped nuts and (THE MOST IMPORTANT BIT) a drizzle of ghee on top. Sometimes I add some wilted greens too. Close your eyes, take a breath, and let the warmth of centuries-old wisdom land on your tongue.
The Taste of Home
Every spoonful is golden, warm, laced with the kind of comfort that reaches far beyond your tastebuds. It is food that settles you, that reminds you of something ancient inside yourself.
Make this for you. Make this for the people you love. It will warm their heart.