MINNEAPOLIS - To hear Raghavan Iyer, a champion of Indian curry, quote O.E. Rolvaag, a chronicler of Norwegian angst, is just the sort of amalgam of cultures that Iyer likes to nurture. Over breakfast of coffee and an eclair, he talked about the shock of moving from teeming Bombay, India, to Marshall, Minn., to study restaurant management.

"Have you ever read `Giants in the Earth?"" he asked, posing the Midwestern equivalent of asking Southerners if they've read "Gone With the Wind." Remember, he said, the scene where the wife, a reluctant pioneer, gazes from the door of the sod hut at the featureless prairie, and she says, "There is nothing to hide behind." That's how Marshall seemed.

Twenty-five years later, Iyer is an award-winning cookbook author, culinary educator and recipe developer. He was a James Beard award finalist for his 2002 cookbook, "The Turmeric Trail: Recipes and Memories From an Indian Childhood (St. Martin's Press, 2002). Now he has, in his words, "given birth to a horse." For the past four years, the Eden Prairie chef has been laboring over a curry cookbook that clocks in at 832 pages. "660 Curries: The Gateway to Indian Cooking" (Workman, $32.50) is a master's thesis of Indian food, culture and resources.

Are there really 660 curries?

Yes - for starters.

"I first pitched it as 1,001, but Workman said, oh, give us between 600 and 800," Iyer said, laughing. Bottom line, the book has 701 recipes - 660 for curries and the remainder for what he calls cohorts. That's his word for side dishes and such. "Accompaniments is very much a clinical term, while cohorts signifies compatibility."

NO POWDER IN INDIA

Curry is the word that requires more clarification. The Western world regards it as a dish spiced from a jar labeled "curry powder." But Iyer said that curry isn't about spice, but gravy. "To us, it's all about sauces," he said. "No self-respecting Indian kitchen would have curry powder."

In other words, he's written a book about 660 sauces. Maybe, he mused, that would have been a less intimidating title. "Six hundred and sixty sauces - that's doable, right?"

Ahem. Spoken like someone who was named Cooking Teacher of the Year by the International Association of Culinary Professionals in 2004. The thing is, despite arriving in this country with degrees in physics, math and chemistry, Iyer said he didn't know how to boil water.

He grew up in Mumbai, as the city has been known since 1997 when it reclaimed its original name from the British Bombay. He loved street food, much to the chagrin of his sister, who in many ways was as much his culinary instructor as his mother was.

Once in the United States, he began seeking ways to create the foods he missed. Ingredients were a challenge, but so was recreating techniques. The experience of teaching himself informed how he's written "660 Curries," with the method more detailed than you might expect. Bits of stir-fried garlic "should be light brown around the edges." A certain sauce is pureed to form "a thick, gritty, green-speckled paste."

"I wanted it to be as if a cooking teacher is talking, so there is more explanation, as if I'm there," Iyer said. He's also paid close attention to what aspects his students have questioned over the years, so there's an effort to anticipate questions that may come up in the preparation of ghee, which is clarified butter, or what you can substitute if you're fresh out of Horse gram. (Brown lentils are an excellent alternative.) The challenge, he said, "is how do I bridge two cultures, make things easy and recognizable?"

FRONT-END EFFORT

Indian cuisine requires some pre-recipe prep, whether clarifying butter or grinding spices.

A word about ghee, the clarified butter that's the foundation of Indian flavors. "Ghee is the Indian way of prolonging the shelf life of butter," he said. Once the milk solids are removed, the remaining clear liquid will keep on the counter for months. Frozen, he said, it will last years, "even outlive you."

Undeniably, "660 Curries" asks for a lot of back-and-forth page-turning from any cook who's unfamiliar with this cuisine. The salmon recipe on page 670 calls for Balchao masala, a red chile and vinegar paste whose recipe is on page 17. Likewise, a first-timer confronts some upfront costs, gathering a list of seeds, spices and chiles that aren't part of the typical Minnesotan larder. But once made and properly stored, the spice mixes and pastes can last for weeks.

The book contains a much-needed glossary of terms, from amaranth to yogurt, with unfamiliar ingredients such as gongura, jaggery and screw pine in between. There also are metric conversion charts for quantities and temperatures, and mail-order sources for ingredients. (Locally, he recommends Asia Imports, 1840 Central Av. NE., Minneapolis.)

A WORLD CUISINE

The world has become a smaller place since Iyer moved to Minnesota. Now he can find cilantro, almost unheard of 25 years ago, as easily as parsley. He even sees curry leaves - or kari leaves - in some co-ops, which are used like bay leaves to flavor sauces.

Iyer, slim and soft-spoken with a ready laugh, is trying to make the world even smaller, having co-founded the Asian Culinary Arts Institute based in Minneapolis. It works toward the preservation and understanding of the culinary arts of Asia through tours and chef exchanges. Thus, he noted, "660 Curries" is not purely Indian, but also includes dishes from the cuisines of Pakistan, Sri Lanka and Nepal.

Evidence of how Indian food is becoming mainstream is his recent partnership with Bon Appetit Management Co. to develop menus and train chefs to prepare Indian cooking in cafes of clients such as Yahoo, Target, Medtronic and Best Buy.

More tellingly, he and his partner have a son in elementary school who dives into Indian foods as easily as French fries. Which leads to Iyer's personal passion. "I'm a potato-holic," he said. "Any size, shape, variety - you can wake me up at 2 a.m. for a potato."

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ALL ABOUT CURRY

What is this thing we call curry?

To many Westerners, curry is a mix of spices - tamarind, onion, coriander, fenugreek, chile pepper, turmeric, cumin, black pepper and mustard - to season a stir-fry of sorts that packs a heated punch. Yet this spice mixture, not to mention the word itself, does not exist in India.

Raghavan Iyer defines a curry as "any dish that consists of meat, fish, poultry, legumes, vegetables or fruit, simmered in or covered with a sauce, gravy or other liquid that is redolent of spices and/or herbs."

In other words, curry is never something added to a dish, "it just is!" as he describes it.

The elements of curry are a blend of the five primary tastes: bitter, sour, salty, sweet and umami. Pungent is a frequent additional element, and, less often, astringent. Aromatic? Always.

So where did the confusion begin? It's impossible to say for sure, but many experts believe that British who were involved in the spice trade in the 1600s set out to replicate the spicing techniques of the foods they ate in India. There is a kari leaf (also called a curry leaf), similar to a bay leaf, that may have been the source of the name, although it has little to do with curries.

Iyer does include a recipe for English-style Madras Curry Powder for a few recipes in the book calling for this spice mix that dates from the 18th century.

But for the other 658 or so recipes, curry describes a range of sauces with a variety of bases - tomato, coconut milk, vinegar, split peas, to name a few. So, how to approach these recipes that not only turn preconceived notions on their head, but also introduce a cornucopia of exotic ingredients?

As Iyer counsels: "With great joy."

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BEGINNER ALMOND SHRIMP

Serves 4.

Note: Raghavan Iyer recommends this simple preparation to newcomers nervous about spices. The Bangala garam masala (an East Indian sweet blend) keeps, tightly sealed, for up to 2 months.

½ tsp. Bangala garam masala (see directions below)

2 tbsp. canola oil

¼ c. slivered blanched almonds, ground

4 medium-size cloves garlic, finely chopped

1 large tomato, cored and finely chopped

½ tsp. cayenne (ground red pepper)

1½ tsp. coarse kosher or sea salt

1 tsp. granulated sugar

1 lb. large shrimp, peeled and deveined

½ c. heavy cream

2 tbsp. finely chopped fresh cilantro

Directions

To make Bangala garam masala: In a spice or coffee grinder, combine 1 teaspoon whole cloves, 1 teaspoon cardamom seeds (green or white) and 4 cinnamon sticks, broken up. Grind until mix resembles coarsely ground black pepper. Sift through a fine mesh strainer and repeat with coarse pieces until you have 3 tablespoons of spice mix (you will only be using a little bit for this recipe).

To prepare the shrimp: Heat the oil in a medium-size skillet over medium-high heat. Sprinkle in almonds and garlic, and cook, stirring constantly, until the nuts brown, 1 to 3 minutes.

Stir in the tomato, cayenne, salt, sugar and garam masala, scraping the skillet to make sure nothing sticks to the bottom. Cook, uncovered, stirring occasionally, until the tomato softens but still is firm-looking, 2 to 4 minutes.

Add the shrimp and pour in the cream, stirring once or twice. Lower heat to medium, cover the skillet and simmer, stirring occasionally, until the shrimp are salmon-orange, curled and tender and the creamy-rich sauce is thick, 5 to 8 minutes.

Sprinkle with cilantro and serve.

Nutrition information per serving:

Calories 265 Fat 21 g Sodium 730 mg

Carbohydrates 7 g Saturated fat 7 g Calcium 71 mg

Protein 14 g Cholesterol 140 mg Dietary fiber 2 g

Diabetic exchanges per serving: ½ other carb, 2 lean meat, 3 fat.

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SOUSED CUCUMBERS IN YOGURT AND FRESH MINT

Serves 8.

Note: Tester suggests starting with just one chile, adding more if you want more heat. This will keep, covered, in the refrigerator for up to 4 days.

1½ c. plain yogurt, whisked

1 tsp. coarse kosher or sea salt

1 large English cucumber, ends trimmed, peeled, cut in half lengthwise, seeds scooped out, shredded

½ c. firmly packed fresh mint leaves, finely chopped

1 tsp. cumin seeds, toasted and ground

2 or 3 fresh green Thai, cayenne or serrano chiles, to taste, stems removed, finely chopped (do not remove seeds)

Directions

In a medium bowl, thoroughly combine the yogurt, salt, cucumber, mint leaves, cumin and chiles. Serve chilled or at room temperature.

Nutrition information per serving:

Calories 38; Fat 1 g; Sodium 230 mg; Carbohydrates 5 g; Saturated fat 0 g; Calcium 98 mg; Protein 3 g; Cholesterol 3 mg; Dietary fiber 1 g;

Diabetic exchanges per serving: 1 vegetable.

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CHICKEN WITH RED CHILES AND COCONUT MILK

Serves 6.

Even though the chiles are potent, the vinegar and coconut milk in this dish bring it down many notches to make a hot, sweet, creamy curry. Ladle it over mounds of cooked rice for a southern Indian-style meal (red rice would be the choice in India).

¼ c. white vinegar

1 tsp. coarse kosher or sea salt

¼ tsp. ground turmeric

1 small red onion, coarsely chopped

6 medium-size garlic cloves

3 dried red Thai or cayenne chiles, stems removed

1 (3½ lb.) chicken, skin removed, cut into 8 pieces

2 tbsp. canola oil

¾ c. unsweetened coconut milk

1 (14.5-oz.) can diced tomato

¼ c. finely chopped fresh cilantro leaves and tender stems

Directions

Pour the vinegar into a blender jar, followed by the salt, turmeric, onion, garlic and chiles. Puree, scraping the inside of the jar as needed, to make a smooth, yellow-hued light purple marinade.

Place the chicken in a baking dish and spoon the marinade over it, turning the chicken pieces to coat them thoroughly. Refrigerate, covered, for at least 30 minutes or up to 2 hours, to allow the flavors to penetrate the meat. (Because vinegar is so acidic, you do not want to marinate the chicken for any longer because it might break down the meat's texture, rendering it unappetizing.)

Heat the oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add the chicken, including the marinade, meat side down, in a single layer. Cook, allowing the meat to sear after some of the nose-tingling marinade boils off, until browned, 5 to 7 minutes. Turn the chicken over and brown on the other side, about 5 minutes.

Pour in the coconut milk and lift the chicken pieces slightly to allow it to coat the bottom of the skillet and to loosen the browned bits, deglazing the skillet.

Add the diced tomatoes, with their juice, stirring to incorporate them into the curry. Once it comes to a boil, reduce the heat to medium-low, cover and simmer, turning the chicken pieces occasionally and basting them every 3 to 4 minutes, until the meat in the thickest parts is no longer pink inside and the juices run clear, 20 to 25 minutes. Transfer the chicken to a serving platter.

Stir the cilantro into the sauce, raise the heat to medium, and simmer vigorously, uncovered, stirring occasionally, until the chunky, reddish-brown curry is slightly thick, 5 to 8 minutes.