Authors: Cobaia Kitchen, Grok 4, Claude 4.0 Sonnet
Photos: Cobaia Kitchen, GPT Image 1, Imagen 4 Ultra (Preview)
This delightful vegan twist on the classic masala dosa sprang to life from a clever user prompt that challenged an AI to craft a plant-based version using a specific dosa flour mix, while keeping things low-carbon, supermarket-friendly in Germany, and true to the crispy, savory vibes of authentic Indian fare—think avoiding disliked ingredients, capping prep at 30 minutes, and scaling for exactly three portions with calorie estimates between 400-800 kcal each. Drawing inspiration from South India’s culinary heartlands, particularly Karnataka where masala dosa reigns as a beloved breakfast staple in bustling Udupi eateries, the recipe blends traditional fermented rice-lentil batter with a spiced potato filling for that irresistible street-food flair. While your dosa sizzles and crisps in the pan, you might enjoy reading about Vikram and his landlady Helga’s tragicomic culinary misadventure—a tale of cultural bridges built through batter and broken through fire, proving that even the best-intentioned food sharing can lead to unexpected consequences. Powered by the witty and inventive Grok 4 model, which whipped up this creation with a dash of creativity to include fresh additions like green chilies and curry leaves (or their handy substitutes), it ensures every bite is sustainable, simple, and bursting with flavor, proving AI can turn pantry staples into a global feast.
Please read the review before cooking!
Authentic Vegan Potato Masala Dosa
Equipment
- mixing bowl
- Whisk
- cutting board
- Knife
- Pan (or crepe pan)
- spatula
- Stove
- Potato peeler
Ingredients
- 300 g Dosa mix flour
- 600 ml water for batter
- 600 g potatoes peeled and diced into 1cm cubes
- 150 g onions finely sliced
- 150 g tomatoes diced
- 2 green chilies finely chopped (fresh, added for authentic heat)
- 1 tbsp fresh ginger grated
- 1 tsp mustard seeds ground
- 1 tsp cumin seeds
- 1/2 tsp turmeric
- 10 curry leaves fresh, added for authentic aroma
- 2 tbsp rapeseed oil from pantry, divided for batter and filling
- Salt to taste
- Fresh cilantro chopped for garnish (optional, about 20g)
Instructions
- Peel the potatoes and dice them into 1cm cubes. Place in a pot with water, bring to a boil on the stove, and cook for 10 minutes until soft; drain and set aside (this is part of cooking time).
- While potatoes boil, prepare the batter: In a mixing bowl, combine 300g Dosa mix flour with 600ml water. Whisk until smooth and lump-free; let it rest for 5 minutes to thicken slightly.
- Finely slice the onions into thin strips. Dice the tomatoes into small pieces. Finely chop the green chilies. Grate the fresh ginger.
- Heat 1 tbsp rapeseed oil in a pan over medium heat. Add mustard seeds and cumin seeds; let them splutter for 30 seconds.
- Add sliced onions, chopped green chilies, grated ginger, and curry leaves to the pan. Sauté for 3-4 minutes until onions are translucent.
- Stir in diced tomatoes and turmeric; cook for 2 minutes until tomatoes soften. Add the boiled potato cubes and salt; mix well and cook for another 3 minutes to blend flavors. Mash lightly with the spatula for a chunky texture. Remove from heat.
- Heat the pan (or crepe pan) over medium-high heat with a few drops of remaining rapeseed oil. Pour a ladleful of batter (about 100ml) and spread thinly into a circle using the back of the ladle. Cook for 1-2 minutes until edges crisp, then flip and cook for 1 minute more. Repeat for 6 dosas total (2 per portion).
- Place a portion of potato filling in the center of each dosa, fold, and serve hot.
Notes
Serving suggestions:
Substitutes for curry leaves
Based on their citrusy, slightly minty vibe in Indian recipes like our dosa filling, here are reliable swaps you can likely find in most German stores:- Lime Zest
- Lemon Balm Leaves
- Bay Leaves
- Basil Leaves
- Just skip them
Allergens:
- Mustard: From the mustard seeds used in the potato masala filling
- Check your specific Dosa flour mix
Emission Hotspots:
- The dosa flour mix, dominated by white rice flour, represents the recipe’s primary carbon emission hotspot due to rice cultivation’s methane-intensive paddy farming
- Shop to home transportation, if a combustion car is used
Sustainability tips:
- Turn potato peels, onion skins, and any herb trimmings into compost instead of trash—this not only cuts waste but enriches your garden soil for growing your own greens
- Opt for locally grown potatoes and onions from nearby farms to minimize transport emissions; in summer, snag in-season tomatoes to avoid energy-intensive greenhouse imports.
- Walk or bike to the supermarket and farmer’s market to cut transportation emissions
- Store leftovers in the fridge—they reheat beautifully the next day
- Use a lid on your pan while boiling potatoes to cut cooking time and stove energy by up to 30%, and cook multiple dosas in batches on low heat
- Your guinea pigs 🐹 will happily eat any remaining fresh cilantro
- Consider growing herbs at home—even a small windowsill herb garden reduces packaging and transportation while providing fresh flavors year-round

Carbon Footprint


Featured Story
Tragic Dose of Dosa

In the tidy, red-brick bylanes of Hamburg, Vikram rented a narrow room from Frau Helga, whose pantry shelves marched in uniform rows of canned asparagus and peaches as though parade-trained. The air in her flat smelled faintly of vinegar and nostalgia, while Vikram carried, like a secret passport, the aromas of curry leaves and coconut oil. On a drizzly Saturday he ventured, gently, to bridge their culinary continents: “May I cook you dosa—an Indian Pfannkuchen of sorts?” he asked, rolling the word with care. Helga’s brows rose, her ears caught only “Dose,” and she hurried off, delighted by the prospect of some exotic tinned delicacy to add to her arsenal of jars.
The morning unspooled in comic confusion. Vikram soaked lentil-rice flour, whisked it into a silken batter, and set potatoes sputtering with mustard seeds, while Helga laid out her finest collection of can openers—one for slender sardine tins, another for bulk pineapple rings. She watched him ladle batter onto a hot pan and frowned at the absence of metal. “Strange cans you people have,” she muttered, prying at an imaginary lid in the air. When the first dosa emerged, lacy and golden, she examined its underside as if expecting a steel seam, then sighed with disappointment: “No Dose after all, only a Pfannkuchen wearing perfume.”
Yet hunger softened her skepticism. Tentatively she tasted a corner, then another; soon she was folding a second dosa with surprising deftness. For a blink it seemed a small miracle had occurred—Turmeric met Sauerkraut, suspicion melted into laughter, and Vikram’s homesickness eased like batter settling in a pan. He spoke of childhood breakfasts in Bangalore; she confessed a secret longing to see the sea outside Kiel again. The kitchen filled with steam and stories, and even the old cuckoo clock appeared to listen.
But fate, capricious as cumin in hot oil, interceded. Reaching for more chutney, Helga knocked the bowl onto the ceramic floor; it shattered, splashing coconut and chili across her slippers. Startled, she lost her footing, sending a tower of neatly stacked cans cascading like small grenades. One heavy tin struck the hob, tipping the skillet; sizzling batter slithered into the gas flame, which leapt upward in a bright, alarming whoosh. The smoke alarm shrieked, neighbors hammered on the door, and in the chaos the fire brigade evacuated the building, declaring the kitchen uninhabitable for weeks. Standing shivering in the courtyard, Helga clutched her smoke-blackened can opener, while Vikram watched ash settle on the last unserved dosa curling like a leaf in the wind. By evening the landlord handed Helga a notice of repair costs she could not afford, and Vikram, overcome with guilt, packed his suitcase, leaving behind a faint scent of charred batter and a friendship that had almost risen, almost set, but in the end collapsed like an over-fermented dough.
Culinary Reality Check

This South Indian classic proved delightful yet demanding—a golden, crispy crepe that transported us straight to Karnataka’s bustling street stalls, though not without some kitchen drama along the way. While the spiced potato filling delivered authentic warmth and the fermented batter created those coveted lacy edges, this recipe demanded patience, multiple pans, and perhaps most crucially, a well-stocked chutney arsenal.

Taste
The spiced potato masala sang with turmeric, cumin, and fresh ginger—exactly what you’d hope for from authentic Indian street food. However, the dosa suffered from a rather parched personality without proper accompaniments. While Indian restaurants typically offer an array of vibrant chutneys and cooling raitas, preparing multiple sauces from scratch would have transformed this into an all-day affair rather than the promised quick dinner.

Portion Size
A curious mathematical puzzle emerged: the potato filling perfectly served our requested three portions, yet the batter mysteriously multiplied into enough pancakes for four. This abundance proved both blessing and curse—extra dosas for tomorrow’s breakfast, but also the temptation for ill-advised late-night snacking experiments.

Combination
The marriage of crispy dosa and spiced potato filling showed promise, yet desperately yearned for a third partner to complete the menage. The suggested cucumber slices, while refreshing, stood about as much chance against the dryness as a single ice cube in Death Valley. The meal felt incomplete, like attending a symphony where the string section forgot to show up.

Texture
When properly executed, the dosa achieved that magical contrast beloved in South Indian cuisine—paper-thin edges that shattered delicately, giving way to a tender, slightly chewy center. Unfortunately, our batter proved rather thick-headed, refusing to spread into the gossamer-thin sheets we’d envisioned. The result: pancakes that, while tasty, bore more resemblance to their European cousins than authentic dosas.

Spices
The potato filling’s spice blend deserved standing ovations—a harmonious orchestra of mustard seeds, cumin, and aromatics that would make any Udupi chef proud. The commercial dosa flour mix, however, arrived at the party rather oversalted, lending an unexpectedly briny note that clashed spectacularly with our ambitious Nutella dessert experiment. Consider this a cautionary tale about midnight culinary creativity.

Timing
The recipe’s time estimate proved as optimistic as a weather forecast promising sunshine during monsoon season. What promised to unfold in a breezy 40 minutes stretched into an epic 75-minute culinary odyssey. The dosa-making stage, in particular, demanded the patience of a meditation master. Multiple pans could have accelerated the process, though this would require kitchen real estate that not all home cooks possess.

Processing
Credit where due: the instructions flowed logically and clearly, guiding even novice Indian cooks through the process. Yet the thick batter conspired against us, stubbornly resisting our attempts to coax it into restaurant-worthy thinness. Each pancake became a small battle of wills, requiring careful persuasion with the back of a ladle. This recipe demands respect for timing and perhaps relegation to leisurely weekend cooking rather than weeknight salvation.

Completeness
Here lies the recipe’s most tragic flaw: burying the chutney revelation in the serving suggestions like a crucial plot twist in the final chapter. By the time we discovered this essential accompaniment, shopping opportunities had vanished and improvisation became our only ally. The lone cucumber, valiant though it was, proved woefully inadequate against the dosa’s desert-like tendencies.

Environment
This plant-based dosa earns solid marks for avoiding heavily processed ingredients and aligning with 2030 sustainability targets.

Health
This vegan marvel excels in eliminating meat and added sugars while delivering plant-based protein and complex flavors. However, it leans heavily on starchy vegetables and refined grains, falling short of whole-grain ideals. With thoughtful modifications—perhaps incorporating millet flour and expanding the vegetable palette—this dish could align more closely with planetary health recommendations while maintaining its authentic soul.

Tips for Redemption
- Stock your chutney cabinet: Keep ready-made accompaniments on standby—coconut chutney, mint sauce, or even a simple lentil dal can rescue the driest dosa.
- Abandon Nutella fantasies: Leftover salty dosas and chocolate spread make strange, regrettable bedfellows.
- Deploy multiple pans: Transform this from marathon to sprint by recruiting every crepe pan in your arsenal, along with proper spreading tools for even, thin results.
