Every time I’m hosting a dinner (or a lunch, brunch, breakfast, cocktails, afternoon tea, you name it), my family becomes a little tense. It’s not because they think I’m going to screw up, but because I’m never able to simply host a dinner – or any of those other things. I only do dinners with a concept and that can be difficult for living organisms in my close proximity.

I seem to be physically and mentally incapable of just cooking a starter, main course and dessert and be done with it. I need to have a theme and all dishes must form a coherent whole and cocktails should match the official mood of the evening and flowers have to be just so and I’m forever buying new napkins as the ones I have don’t work with the concept… Consequently, I feel like a failure if only pink dahlias can be had instead of the Bordeaux ones I wanted or if I cannot find barberries for my jewelled rice. The evening, certainly, is ruined! I have become more relaxed over the years and family members no longer have to hide from me, but my menus are still ambitious and my visions frighteningly complex.

In June, we gave a dinner in the honour of a family friend who was leaving his post in Brussels. As he’s known for his love for foreign affairs, Central Asia and the surrounding regions, I saw a chance to indulge my passion for the Middle World food. I also love the history of the area, so I decided to build the dinner around The Great Game: the fight for dominance between the British and Russian empires in the 19th century that played out in the region from Middle East to India.

The dinner comprised 10 dishes and was, I must admit, insane even by my standards. I cooked for two evenings (plus half a night) and the only reason I managed to pull it off was that some things could be made in advance and nothing needed to be served immediately. I’m going to share the menu with you not because I think you’d like to recreate it, but because it includes some of my favourite dishes from my favourite cookbooks. All the books I’ve mentioned – except for the fantastic Summers Under the Tamarind Tree, about Pakistani food – are featured in this post.

THE GREAT GAME DINNER

Starters

Spinach, turmeric and raisin dip (borani). This yogurt-based Persian dip has an unusual flavour combination, but it works beautifully. It’s one of the few things here I had made before, which means I must like it a lot. I prepared it pretty much exactly as Greg Malouf does in Saraban.

Afghani-style aubergine dip. This was inspired by a recipe in Sirocco, Sabrina Ghayour’s second cookbook. In the end, I decided to omit the yogurt, as I had one yogurt-based dip already. So this was mostly aubergine, garlic, spices, lemon juice and fresh coriander.

Eastern-style focaccia. I’m not a bread-maker and the rehearsal loaf of this was one of the first breads I ever made. Because I was terrified of ruining this, I followed Ghayour’s recipe from Persiana almost to the letter, only playing around with spices (lots of sumac, less chilli). It was delicious with the dips.

Uzbek samsas with spiced pumpkin. These little pastries are similar to Indian samosas and are usually made with lamb. Or onion. Or lamb and onion. As I had lamb for the main course, I went with the less traditional pumpkin filling. I cannot quite recall the spice mix, but cumin, nutmeg and clove were certainly involved. Recipe improvised based on online inspiration.

Main course

Kashmiri-style leg of lamb. As soon as I saw this recipe in Summers Under the Tamarind Tree by Sumayya Usmani, I knew it was for me. I love slow-cooked lamb and the description said: roasted with almonds, coconut and rose and it also includes cardamom – pretty much perfect. The only major thing I changed was the amount of chili. I cook it in the oven rather than on the hob and although it’s rather messy and time consuming, it’s not terribly difficult to make.

Baluchi-style chicken sajji. Another recipe from the Summers Under the Tamarind Tree, I included this because not everyone likes lamb and because since reading Peter Hopkirk’s The Great Game, I’ve been fascinated by Baluchistan. The original recipe calls for a whole bird, but I used thigh fillets instead. I also had to adjust the Baluchi sajji masala blend, as I would not have survived the heat.

Jewelled rice (Morasa polow). Whenever I attempt cooking rice the Persian way, I use the instructions from Saraban and I believe the results are decent. I only make one change: I add rosewater to the butter I drizzle over rice before it’s steamed. When it comes to the jewels, though, I improvise. I made the rice on the pictures yesterday and used orange, mandarin, lemon and lime peel; dates, apricots, sour cherries, pomegranate seeds and almond flakes. I usually also include pistachios and barberries, but alas! I was undersupplied.

Caramelised fennel with orange and butter. This is not an authentic dish of the Middle World, but I did get the idea from Sirocco. I have, however, played around with it so much that I believe I can call the final recipe my own. I did write it down for you.

Cucumber, watermelon and mint salad. Loosely inspired by the region, you don’t need a recipe for this. It’s exactly what the title says, plus I add a little pomegranate molasses as dressing.

Hibiscus and Himalayan pink salt raita. I picked this for the gorgeous pink colour and because it works beautifully with the lamb and nicely with the chicken. The Summers Under the Tamarind Tree version includes chilli, while my boring non-spicy dip has yogurt, dried hibiscus petals, Himalayan salt and a touch of cumin.

Dessert

I had planned to make firni (a milk and rice pudding) with rose and cardamom, to represent Pakistan – the original idea came from The Saffron Tales by Yasmin Khan. And I would have made a caramel sauce with dates to go with it. However, by the time we were finished with all the above, no-one seemed particularly interested in pudding. So we had Laduree rose, orange blossom and pistachio macaroons and drank strong Indian tea (Assam). And it was OK, because French sweets are very popular in Iran and other places in the region, so it fit the concept. Phew.