Cooked by the people who own the place
Ask ten Indians what goes in a curry and you'll get ten answers, and every one of them will be certain they're right. That's not a problem with the food. That's the food. It changes house to house, street to street, mother to mother.
What we cook is one of those ten answers. The North Indian one. The one we grew up inside – chickpeas going dark in the pot without a tomato in sight, dough going onto the wall of a clay tandoor by hand, a lamb curry that takes the whole afternoon and can't be hurried into taking less.
We came to Malmö and couldn't find it. Not the idea of it – plenty of places serve curry. We couldn't find the taste. So we stopped looking and opened a kitchen.
Everything here is ground, marinated and cooked by us, in this building, most of it before you've woken up. There's no central kitchen somewhere else. There's no recipe from head office. There's a tandoor, a few pots, and people who've been making this food their whole lives.
That's it. That's the story.
We came to Malmö with our recipes and not much else. Masala & More is what we built with them.
We didn't open because we saw a gap in the market. We opened because we were hungry. Malmö had Indian restaurants, it just didn't have the food we grew up eating. So we made it ourselves.
