Vegetable Samosa

Making samosas from scratch sounds intimidating — and honestly, it usually is. It feels like you’re making two separate dishes: the filling and the dough. First up, the dough. Just flour, oil, salt, and enough warm water to bring it all together into a semi-firm ball of potential.

While the dough rested under a damp cloth, I got to work on the filling. Ghee in the pan, cumin seeds crackling, ginger and chili turning up the heat — my kitchen smelled unreal. In my crash course on Indian cooking, one thing became clear: the cuisine is layered with spices, and the real trick is knowing when to add them. Toast too early, and you burn the flavour. Too late, and they barely show up.

I tossed in green peas, turmeric, garam masala, and a mountain of mashed potatoes, finishing it all off with a dusting of chaat masala and a handful of fresh cilantro.

Side note: I also made a meat version, because sometimes peas just don’t cut it.

Folding the samosas took a few tries, but once they hit that hot oil and came out golden and crispy… worth it. Flaky on the outside, spicy and comforting on the inside.

For my first time making vegetable samosas, I’ve gotta say — not bad at all. The filling was packed with flavour, the crust was golden and crispy, and the mint chutney brought it all together. Folding them was the most time consuming part, but worth every bite.

Here are some quick tips:

• Dough matters: If your dough’s too dry, it’ll crack. Too wet, and it’ll stick. Aim for that sweet spot — smooth, firm, and pliable.

• Watch folding tutorials: Seriously. There are a few ways to do it, and unless you want your samosas looking like deep-fried garden gnomes, it’s worth the extra 5 minutes.

• Turmeric stains EVERYTHING: Countertops, fingernails, souls. Rubbing alcohol works better than soap.