By Prue Leith
I first learnt to make kedgeree when I started my catering business. Posh English clients, whose hunt balls or children’s twenty-first-birthday dances I would be cooking for, would want something stodgy to soak up all the beer at about two in the morning.
I’m sure a top-notch Indian chef would shudder, but ever since the time of the British Raj, when the English co-opted, altered and bastardized traditional Indian dishes, kedgeree has appeared on our breakfast or supper tables. And