Why We Don’t Do a Balti Blend

Image: Mrs Balbir Singh’s slow-cooked Kashmiri Rogan Josh with naan, basmati rice, and onion salad—showcasing authentic Indian technique and deep, layered flavour.
Here's Why You Should Be Suspicious of Anyone Who Is Selling You Balti Anything
You’ve seen the word on "curry house" and takeaway menus.
On supermarket sauces.
On ready meals, and even on spice kits.
“BALTI.”
We're told it sounds exotic to some. Maybe even authentic.
But here’s the truth:
Balti isn’t a flavour. It’s not a spice mix. And it’s definitely not a traditional Indian dish from India.
It’s a technique—and a relatively modern one, at that.
At Mrs Balbir Singh’s, we’re proud to say we don’t offer a “Balti Blend.” And never will.
Here’s why.
What is Balti?
Balti cooking originated in the West Midlands region of the UK, developed by South Asian restaurateurs in the late 20th century. It was designed for speed, spectacle, and simplicity—fast-cooked curries in thin, wok-like pressed steel pans (also called baltis) and served in the same vessel.
Balti is not a dish—at best, it’s a method.
It draws inspiration from traditional karahi cooking—a respected North Indian and Pakistani technique used to prepare dishes like Karahi Chicken or Karahi Lamb. But while karahi has deep roots and widely recognised flavour profiles, Balti is more of a modern British Asian interpretation. And there’s no one recipe behind it.
Every “balti” dish varies depending on the chef, the restaurant, or even the region.
It’s worth noting: when done well, this kind of fast, high-heat cooking can reduce the sauce and intensify flavour beautifully. That’s one of the reasons it’s remained popular. But the problem arises when this technique is repackaged as a fixed recipe or flavour—or worse, sold back to people as traditional Indian food.
We’re not against high-heat cooking. We’re against cultural misrepresentation disguised as convenience.
In fact, that same richness—where a sauce clings beautifully to tender meat—can also be achieved through slow cooking and proper spice layering. It's something our customers often experience with our Rogan Josh: deep flavour, naturally reduced sauce, and a sense of balance that only comes from time, not tricks.
There’s no authentic recipe category, no codified technique, and no definitive spice blend behind Balti cooking.
Which is precisely why we don’t offer one.
What about Baltistan?
Some like to claim that “Balti” comes from Baltistan, a region in northern Pakistan.
It’s a convenient theory.
But it doesn’t hold up.
There’s no linguistic or culinary evidence tying the Baltistan region to this style of curry. The word balti itself literally means bucket in Hindi, Urdu, and several other South Asian languages—referring to the metal pan used to cook and serve the dish.
In fact, the food eaten in Baltistan is quite different from the Balti dishes served in Birmingham—focusing more on Central Asian and Tibetan influences than anything resembling a curry house creation.
So while the name may sound traditional, the truth is that Balti is a product of the British curry house boom—not a centuries-old dish passed down through the ages.
Why a “Balti Blend” Doesn’t Make Sense
Trying to reduce Balti to a spice mix is like creating a “pan-fry flavour.”
It’s a cooking and serving method, not a fixed taste.
And pretending otherwise only adds to the confusion.
That hasn’t stopped mass-market brands from trying.
From supermarket sauces to spice kits and so-called “authentic” ready meals, Balti has been packaged, simplified, and misrepresented—all for convenience and shelf appeal.
Some even refer to Birmingham’s “Balti Triangle”—a once-famous collection of restaurants—as the place where Balti was ‘born.’
But if we’re honest, it sometimes feels more like the Bermuda Triangle of Indian food: A place where authentic recipes may have gone in… but never quite came out the same.
What emerged was yet another version of BIR (British Indian Restaurant) culture:
- Generic base gravies
- Fast food-style menus
- Dish names created for a weak attempt at "flair", not flavour
- And of course, the signature base gravy—that catch-all curry slurry used to make everything taste suspiciously similar
To Western ears, “Balti” may have once sounded exotic—foreign enough to feel exciting on a menu. But to those of us from Indian backgrounds, it doesn’t evoke intrigue. If anything it evokes household cleaning. The word really does mean bucket!
Which, if anything, feels more like a punchline than a tradition.
What We Do Instead
At Mrs Balbir Singh’s, we don’t deal in culinary gimmicks.
We don’t jump on trends, or package ambiguity just to fit in.
We build every recipe and every blend with intention, integrity, and respect.
From our award-winning Rogan Josh and Butter Chicken, to our elegant Tandoori and Grill Masalas, each of our tins is grounded in India's culinary history.
We don’t make things up to sell more kits.
We protect what’s real—because if we don’t, who will?
So Why Don’t We Do a Balti Blend?
Because Balti isn’t a flavour.
It isn’t a fixed dish.
And it isn’t part of the culinary heritage we were built to protect.
At Mrs Balbir Singh’s, our tins don’t follow trends.
They contain truth.
Want flavour without the fiction?
Explore our full collection of heritage-based spice kits—no filler, no fakery, just the real deal.
Mrs Balbir Singh
Award-winning godmother of Indian home cooking, and author of Mrs Balbir Singh's Indian Cookery, as featured in "The Best Indian Cookbooks Ever, as Judged by the Experts" - The Telegraph (UK)