First, a word on this dish
Say it is raining, someone is already making tea, and you have an onion, two potatoes and a bag of spinach. That is a pakora afternoon. The idea is not a fixed list of ingredients but a habit: cut a vegetable thin, give it a thick coat of seasoned chickpea-flour batter, and fry it until the outside shatters and the inside turns soft. Onion brings sweetness and helps the pieces cling together, potato adds substance, and spinach gives a faintly bitter, leafy contrast that keeps the plate from feeling heavy.
Once you have the batter right, you can swap in cauliflower, aubergine, sweet pepper or whatever needs using up. If this is your first time frying at home, it is a kind one to start with. There is no resting time, the shopping list is tiny, and the first batch tells you straight away whether your oil and batter are behaving.
The story behind the dish
Pretty much every region fries besan fritters, and each calls them something different. North and west India say pakora or pakoda, Gujarat and Maharashtra say bhajiya, and in some southern kitchens the word is bajji, usually meaning thicker vegetable rounds in a looser batter. Because the method is so basic and the flour so easy to find, nobody can credit one city or one century with it. Food historians generally describe it as a technique that came up in many places at once. The real differences are in the vegetable chosen, how stiff the batter is, and what goes on the side. Coconut chutney with a southern bajji tastes nothing like the tamarind or mint chutney a northern cook would hand you with pakora.
The method, in order
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Prep
Let salt work on the onion and potato
Put the sliced onion and potato in a bowl with 1/2 teaspoon salt and leave them for ten minutes. You will see liquid collect at the bottom. That liquid is useful: it seasons the onion, gives the batter something wet to grab, and means the potato needs less time in the oil to soften.
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Prep
Whisk the dry mix
In your biggest bowl, whisk the besan with the rice flour, chilli powder, turmeric, ajwain, hing and salt. Leave the rice flour out if you have none, but if you do have it, use it. It is the reason a pakora is still crunchy ten minutes after it leaves the pan.
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Prep
Bring it together with just enough water
Tip in the salted vegetables with their juices, then the chilli and coriander. Now add water a splash at a time, stirring after each. You want a stiff, sticky coating that hugs every slice, with almost nothing running to the bottom of the bowl. Stop sooner than feels right, because the vegetables keep weeping into the mix, and a batter that goes too loose cannot be fixed without more flour.
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Cook
Fry a few at a time
Bring the oil to somewhere between 170 and 180°C, which is 340 to 350°F. Drop in rough spoonfuls of the mixture, only as many as fit with room between them. Too many at once cools the oil, and that is how you end up with pale, oily pakoras. Give each batch 3 to 4 minutes, turning once or twice, until the surface is deep golden and feels firm when you tap it with the spoon.
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Cook
Rack, not paper
Move the finished pakoras to a wire rack. Paper towels hold steam against the base and soften it. Before the next batch goes in, wait for the oil to climb back to temperature.
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Serve
Serve while they still crackle
Put them on the table within minutes of frying. Offer tamarind chutney or a green mint-coriander chutney, or keep it simple with lime juice and a shake of chaat masala.
Ingredient stand-ins
Reach for anything firm that slices thin: cauliflower florets, rounds of aubergine, strips of bell pepper, or sweet potato. The recipe as written has no wheat in it, because besan and rice flour are both gluten-free. If you decide to add baking powder or any other extra, read its label to make sure that stays true.
Making it milder or fiercer
Think of chilli powder and fresh chilli as two different dials. Powder gives colour and a spread-out warmth that barely changes if you add a little more. Fresh green chilli gives sharp, noticeable bites. So skip the green chilli if you want a gentle batch, or double it if you want some drama, and leave the powder alone unless you want the background glow to rise.
The slip most cooks make
If your pakoras look flat and oily, the batter was probably too thin. It should be clearly thicker than dosa or pancake batter, closer to something you could drop from a spoon in lumps. If they are oily and unevenly cooked, you probably crowded the pot, which dragged the oil temperature down. And if you bite into one and find a hard, raw potato slice, the slices were too thick for a fry that lasts only a few minutes, so cut them thinner and more evenly next time.
Storing what is left
Fridge or counter: Pakoras are at their best fresh, and they go soft within a few hours. If there are leftovers, keep them in an airtight tub in the fridge for up to two days and crisp them up in the oven. Do not freeze them, because thawing ruins the texture.
Bringing it back to life: Put them in a 180°C (350°F) oven or air fryer for 6 to 8 minutes. The microwave makes the coating limp and rubbery, so skip it.
Handle with care
The slices are thin and cooked through quickly, so apart from washing the produce before you cut it, there is no particular raw-food worry here. Standard deep-frying rules apply: hold the oil at a steady, moderate heat, stay near the pot, and retire the oil once it looks very dark or starts smoking at a lower temperature than it did when new.