Can instant palak paneer be any good?

food purists: do not enter, you have been warned

Today’s topic may be of greater interest readers in Nepal, and even amongst those, if you are someone (you know who you are) who makes delicious curries from scratch on a near-daily basis—well, you may want to look away now.

Now, for those of you still here…

I was at the little mart—bigger than a corner store but smaller than a supermarket, that’s a mart, right?—around the corner when I was lured in by a colorful display at eye level that I couldn’t remember seeing before. As this is where I do a good 80% of my non-fresh-produce shopping, it can’t have been there long.

It was a row of Haldiram’s Minute Khana meals. Haldirams is an Indian company that I’m familiar with mostly for its packaged snacks, both sweet and savory. Bhujia, spicy roasted peanuts, mixed dal snacks, gulab jamun in syrup filled tins—you get the idea. And while Google has now enlightened me that the their Minute Khana product line has been around in India since at least 2021, where the selection seems huge, it was a first for me seeing it here.

Palak paneer is one of my regular orders at a dhaba or tandoori restaurant, and I found myself strangely fascinated by the idea of an instant version. How bad could it be? Could it actually be… good?

But the real question is, did I bring one home for a taste test? You know it.

The bright package sat in my kitchen for a day until I finally read the small print—provided in English and French, destined for the Canadian market, perhaps?—and realized it wasn’t some magical freeze-dried powder like I’d expected. I’m not sure why, but I was certain it was something like instant mashed potatoes or soup. Instead, the food was sealed inside a smart foil pouch, something I’d have known if I’d bothered to squeeze the box.

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Even at its best, palak paneer isn’t the most photogenic dish; there can be vibrancy, though, even if muted, in the green of a fresh serving. Bracing myself for a sad thing the color of old khaki I was delightedly surprised when I squeezed out the bag to find it not far off the color it should be. There’s nothing to cook, it’s just a matter of hotting it up before diving in.

How was it? A little more spice-heavy than incarnations I get locally, but that could be down to varying tastes and the way dishes adapt between countries or even regions. Aside from that small detail, there was little to differentiate it from an average palak paneer ordered anywhere. And the paneer chunks are the real deal, too, rich and creamy, and if the pieces are smaller than usual that’s not a problem for me since I’m all about the spinachy goodness anyway. I was half-prepared for something gimmicky, but it was a quality product and made a delightful dinner.

**

Listen: if I can order my palak paneer fresh, that’s what I’ll be doing, preferably from a hole-in-the-wall. It’s just that little bit better—and generally cheaper, unless you’re going swanky.

But will I also pick up another package of this, and maybe even try some of the other choices? Also yes. It was much better than I’d expected, and will make a nice change from noodles in their various incarnations on a day when cooking seems like a bridge too far.

I’ll take any excuse I can get to write about food, and it’s fun to experiment, but I also found myself just a tad embarrassed. A story about, say, making a curry from scratch would have felt much more, well, interesting. But you know what? Life being what it is sometimes we just don’t have it in us. And on days like that, a box of this or something like it tucked away in your cupboard is a gift from your past self, ready in the time it takes to warm through. It’s okay to cut ourselves some slack, and this is a delicious way to do it.

If you’re thinking of picking some up, note that the box says it serves two but it assuredly does not, unless perhaps as part of some greater spread of dishes. I ate nearly the whole thing last night with some slightly freezer-burned rice; if I’d had it with naans or rotis (the superior choice, imo), there wouldn’t have been anything left at all.

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In closing, last night’s balcony sunset: too great not to share. I hope you, too, are enjoying something good to eat.