Roth, Pun, and Vinayak Chaturthi

Well, I forgot completely about this one occasion on which Kashmiris do use flour!! It is one day in a year so I can be forgiven my oversight.

Ganesh Chaturthi or Vinayak Chaturthi, as Kashmiris know it, is the day when some Kashmiri families perform a small puja which includes a katha (story) on the lines of the Satyanarayan katha. There is the standard do-this-ritual-or-else-face-the-consequence line of reasoning in the story. If you do the puja in good faith then you look forward to prosperity…naturally. Otherwise, the gallows you shall face.

Interestingly, there is no idol that is worshipped, at least not in my family. There is druva, a type of grass, akshata (rice), and flowers offered in return for the blessings wished.

The naveed (neivaidyam) is of the roth (ro- as in ‘road’, and -th as in the second letter of the tavarg of the Hindi varnamala, the Hindi alphabet). Hey, it’s important to get the pronunciation of the topic of the post right! And this sound is missing from the English language!

So you may make as much or as little roth as you decide and most of it is then distributed among friends and family. The mimimum predetermined amount could be sava seer, for example. But it is usually cooked in greater quantities so that there is plenty to share and enjoy. The performing of the puja (the story-telling and all) and the sharing of the Roth is called Pun dyun (translated- ‘giving of Pun’ alluding perhaps, to the sharing of it).

The roth is in essence a cooked dough of whole wheat flour, sugar, and ghee. Similar to the Maharashtrian shankar para dough but not the same. There are different methods to the cooking which make the roth different in texture and taste. For the Pun, the dough is usually rolled like a thick poori, pricked or patterned with implements (we used to use metal lids with sharp edges to make intersecting circle patterns) and deep fried. My mother would always use metal lids, the kinds with sharp edges, to make impressions. When I and my sisters were little girls she would let us help with this part and we would get fancy with the intersecting circle patterns. This time I helped with the frying, big girl that I am.

Since you are not supposed to eat till the puja is over, we always sit for a breakfast of these to be washed down with Kahva, the fragrant spicey Kashmiri tea. These make a filling and wholesome breakfast. Yea, they are deep fried, but once a year, c’mon? Also, I think because they are not leavened, they don’t soak up much oil/ghee while frying. And if you make them like my mom’s, you cannot have more than one for breakfast.

Roth is also made for weddings, but that kind is usually baked in an oven. My sister and my mom worked on a recipe for that in her CT kitchen. Another time…

Coffee and Chocolate…mmm

Nandita’s lovely breadstick’s reminded me of the other recipe, in addition to the wheat and white breads, I tried from Bakingsheet a couple of weeks back. Son is studying (hardly) for his X Boards, and I try to do whatever helps. Coffee and chocolate are his all time favorite flavours. He introduced us to the coffee-toffee that our friendly neighbourhood Classic Ice Cream place offers. It is absolute yummylicious.

But I digress. While hunting the blogosphere for recipes that included both coffee and chocolate I came across Nic’s Mocha Rounds. I had tried making similar cookies earlier, but had obviously forgotten the lessons. I made no changes to Nic’s recipe other than (my usual) replacing half of the flour with wholewheat atta. Also, given the temperatures in Delhi at this time of year, I did not attempt the finishing bit about dipping in chocolate. It is kind of difficult to hold yourself together in Delhi’s heat and dust, so unless you live in the Himalayas, do as I did.

These are good with tea or coffee. Got milk?

My notes:

1. If you would like your ‘biscuits’ to be nice and round and live below the Himalayan foothills, do not attempt this recipe, unless you have an air-conditioned kitchen. By the time you roll your logs and refrigerate them, they are still going to be oblong. But, it only makes them look more ‘homey’, so go ahead and make ‘em.
2. I used Nestle’s semi-sweet morsels for my chocolate, and Bru instant coffee powder. The coffee flavour was very weak in my cookies. I would go ahead and double the coffee powder.
3. As noted earlier, I also reduce the sugar by 1/4th when using American recipes. I believe Indian sugar is sweeter.

Appams with Avial

Kerala, God’s Own Country, has food fit for them immortals. The land of spices and coconuts uses both these in ways so different. The Kerala food that I have sampled has always been subtly spiced with undertones of sweetness from fresh coconut; a light hand with the red chilli pepper and a preference for the famous Malabar peppercorns.

As promised, I bring to you a family favourite- Avial with Appams. While I got an early start on food from Tamil Nadu and Andhra, Kerala cuisine was a later discovery.

My good friend Prati, a true Delhiite (meaning belonging to Delhi - it bugs her when people ask - “no, but where are you really from?” It is true, people lived here before the rest of us moved in :-)! The oldest city, Old Delhi - where the present Mehrauli is, dates back to late 12C. Mughal Shahajahanabad, the other ‘Old Delhi’ came much later in mid-17C. Delhi accomodates withing it 8 capitals of various rulers including modern democratic New Delhi), served this non-yellow curry at a dinner many many years ago. One spoonful and my eyes widened at the unbelievable taste of this innocuous looking dish. This was the Avial, my friends. If you have a spoonful, you cannot but ask for the recipe.

And I am not going to give you one. You don’t need one. There is nothing simpler, really. Take a bunch of vegetables such as potatoes, carrots, peas, beans, and green bananas (I always use potatoes, green bananas, and jimikand - Indian yam, with either peas or beans). Chop them into equal sized pieces (1cm) and cook/steam (I pressure cooked my tubers and the banana, and zapped the beans in the microwave). Grate half a coconut and grind to a paste with some cumin and green chillies. You are supposed to use only coconut milk but I hate to throw away the squeezed out coconut. Mix this paste into a cup or more of beaten curd/yoghurt (this should not be sour) and add to the cooked vegetables. Add some water so that there is sufficient ‘curry’. Simmer till heated through. Do the usual tadka of mustard seeds, whole red chillies and kadi patta in a teaspoon or two of oil and add to the simmering avial. Don’t forget the salt.
There, it’s done. Serve it with steamed rice or appams. Keep the breads away this time.

About the appam now. The first time I had this fluffy hopper was at Ashok Yatri Niwas’ Coconut Grove. We were celebrating a birthday with my aforementioned friend. Our kids were toddlers and they were with us. So we sampled Malabari cuisine for the first time - it was a long time ago but I remember there was a fish curry among other things. And Avial (who can forget that, now!) and the wondrous appams, with crispy crepe-like edges and a soft spongy centre, perfect to soak up the delicately flavoured avial and ishtew.

Southern Ambrosia…Andhra Bhawan…and a Promise

The husband will not miss Kashmiri if I never cook it. The son does not much care for the regular no-nonsense everyday-Maharashtrian. I eat Thai all by myself…But we all agree on South Indian! What can I say? We were South Indians in previous life. There is no other explanation. How else can you explain that my FIL, a Maharashtrian born and brought up in Jabalpur (MP), my late MIL, born and brought up in Jodhpur (Rajasthan), my dear H, born in Pune and brought up in saddi Dilli, I, born in Srinagar and brought up likewise, and our son, a 100% Delhiite, should all agree that South Indian food rocks. Period.

It is, by far, the most popular cuisine in our home. I realise I have included practically the entire peninsular India in this categorization - starting south of Maharashtra of course . And it does not start and end at the dosa-idli-upma for us - no sir/madam - we like to go the whole hog. As much as we can.

My love affair with South Indian food started when a lot of infatuations do, in my teens. But this turned out to be life long affair. Two of my best friends in school were from Tamil Nadu. Rajamma and Bhuvaneshwari. We were in grade 9. Our school introduced an additional short break of about 15 minutes at around 11 in the morning. That would be the time to peek into each other’s lunch boxes, if we hadn’t already done so. Soul satisfying curd rice is one lingering memory I have of Rajamma’s tiffin. I could never have enough of that. The smells from their tiffin were so different from mine but wonderfully delicious.

And you cannot contain the fragrance of the kadi-patta to the back row…it travels. Before long Rajamma’s tiffin would have been licked clean. But I would take her along to my home for a hot lunch of dal-roti-subzi during the lunch break. Yup, those were idyllic times. Actually, we were lucky to live in IITD and my school (KVIIT) was a quick sprint from home. When most of the students would sit all around the school lawns, under shady Neem trees, I would, often, walk home for lunch.

I had many a dosa, adai, and idlies from my friends’ tiffins. Since we all lived close to school, I would look forward to the occassional invite for lunch and savour more of their everyday kind of food. I particularly remember that at Rajamma’s there would usually be a vegetable-dal dish, not the sambar, which was heavenly with the short, clumpy rice.

We graduated from school and went on to study at different colleges in Delhi. I missed their tiffins. And I needed to do something about it desperately. The curd rice I managed to recreate, since it is such a simple dish.

Then my mother became very good friends with her school principal and his family, the Bhujangaraos, from Andhra! Mrs Rao’s upma was diffferent, her mango pickle with garlic was to die for. Many times, she would invite us over. There were many others from the South - a neighbour in the house oppposite ours, with the drumstick tree…I hesitatingly walked into her house one day and asked for a recipe for sambar!

CY Gopinath wrote a few articles in TOI during that time which were a blast to read and gave me further insights into Tamil (I think he is Tamil) food.

Al Yakhni (Bottle Gourd in a Yoghurt Sauce)

Agar firdaus bar ru-e zamin ast
Hami ast o-hami ast o-hami ast…If there is Paradise on earth, it is this, it is this, it is this…goes this famous Persian couplet

describing Kashmir, not the humble ghia (doodhi, bottle gourd) of course, or al (pronounced ‘ul’ as in ultra) in Kashmiri.

Let’s go back to Kashmir for a bit, away from the hot sultry environs of stuffy (at the moment) Delhi. While half the country is drowning in floods, there has been hardly any rain here in Delhi. The clouds come raising our hopes and then the winds just blow them away.

And the bottle gourd is the kind of mellow vegetable that sits well in this weather. Nature knows how to balance cravings with abundance. There is plenty of good gourd in the market. Cooked in a light sauce, not greasy, not spicy. Perfect with steamed rice. And I have been craving rice.

The other day my cousin’s wife was shocked that we, in this house, cook roti for both meals. Actually, I think she felt a little sorry for me…The only roti Kashmiris traditionally had was the breads from the friendly neighbourhood naanwai (baker). It is not that rice is not important in Maharashtrian cuisine. It is. In fact, in most homes, it is served as the first (with dal) and last course (with dahi) at all meals. But, as in my family here, roti is still the main course.

Kashmiri cuisine makes room for roti and breads only at breakfast and afternoon tea. And these are never made in the house. Rice is the main staple as it is in Southern India where all the dosas and idlis, so popular even in the North, are served only as tiffin, as ‘minor’ meals.

So, with all the roti around me at all meal-times, there are times when I need to get back in touch with my Kashmiri side. There is a deep satiation that can only be brought about by a meal of rice and curry. With nothing coming between you and your rice - mixing in bits of chunky vegetables or meat into the rice using your fingers and taking it from hand to mouth in a loving graceful move. It is an almost complete sensual involvement - the visual, the smell, the taste, and the touch.

The use of saunf (fennel) as an integral spice in Kashmiri cooking separates it completely from the other cuisines of North India. In fact, coriander, the most common of Indian spices, is not much used. And the coriander leaf (cilantro), never. I think the fennel is a Persian legacy, as are all the breads from the naanwai. The Mughals were in love with Kashmir as is obvious from the Persian couplet quoted at the beginning, and must have cooked up quite a Wazwan with their spices which, over time, got assimilated into the local cuisine.

Yakhni is the common name for all yoghurt based sauces. I don’t use the word ‘curry’ here because there is no such term in Kashmiri cuisine. This recipe for the bottle gourd is subtly spiced with fennel and dry ginger powder. It is mildly spicy without much heat since cayenne is not used (surprise, surprise). I do, however, like to add some green chillies (surprise, surprise!) which impart another degree of subtleness to the dish. Other vegetables that may be prepared in a similar way are the lotus stem (kamal kakdi - Hindi, nadur - Kashmiri) and karela (bitter gourd). The meat based yakni is different and uses additional spices.

Al Yakhni (Bottle Gourd in a Yoghurt Sauce)

A Breakfast of Scrambled Eggs

Eggs, cheese, and potatoes are what comfort foods are made of. And for all of them there are so many ways to cook - they lend themselves easily to different interpretations. There could be nothing simpler than a boiled egg. Though reams have be written on how to get the ‘perfect hard boiled egg’. I have done it a couple of ways and been satisfied with the results. But then again, I am not a chef.

For hard-boiled eggs put eggs in a pan and cover with cold water. Bring the water to boil and keep it at a rolling boil for 6 min. If the eggs were not at room temperature to begin with, I heat the water gradually and stir the eggs around till the water begins to boil. Drain immediately and re-fill the pan with cold water. This, friends, is the simple trick to avoid the greening of the yolk.

I learnt to make scrambled eggs, the American way, when I was a graduate student there. A friend of my sister’s took us to her home just before Christmas for a traditional meal of home-made waffles and scrambled eggs. And I realized that the moistness of the eggs is not from leaving the eggs undercooked but from all that cream and butter! Which was swell…Never, in my four years in the US of A, did I trust something that called itself ‘I Can’t Believe it’s Not Butter’. It’s not. And, I think that there was also a fat free butter!

My approach is simple. If you think something is not very good for you, don’t eat it, or moderate your intake. Don’t substitute with something that is just pretending. All that glitters is NOT gold. Look at what they are saying (rather, hiding) about aspartame today.

Ayurveda advocates ghee and butter as good fats. In fact, if our brains are primarily fat…low fat intake makes us less smart? All those people on ‘fat-free’ diets…? Hmm…that explains a lot!

Therefore, good creamy scrambled eggs on toast for a weekend breakfast is what the doctor ordered. Just follow the easy steps to make the best scrambled eggs you have ever eaten (so used to say my buddy Jim, and he had had some pretty good versions). Sprinkled generously with fresh ground pepper is my son’s favourite way to have eggs.

F(e)asting…on Janmashtami!

Janmashtami celebrates the birth of the world famous Hindu God, Krishna. The festival is different in that it is the child-God - Balkrishna- (bal- Sanskrit for child) that is worshipped. It is huge in this part of the country as well as in Maharashtra. Most Hindus fast till midnight, the legendary hour when Krishna was born. Kashmiris are more of the feasting kind of people. Not that fasting is any different!

We have been missing out on the fasting since my MIL passed on. Everyone was missing the ‘fast’ food and the lime pickle brought out only at such times was getting darker and darker. So, we decided to fast this Janmashtami.

There are dos and don’ts regarding foods that are permitted. I personally think that smart housewives invented the rules so that they could eat their favourite foods - pumpkins and brinjals are not allowed (no prizes for guessing why these got dropped!), rai/mustard is not be be used, ghee instead of oil, all kinds of fruits and dairy, and it has to be all cooked fresh - no leftovers. See what I mean?

While the more customary fasts are broken with a regular meal in the evening, Janmashtami is an all-day f(e)ast! I kid you not. You have to survive all day on potatoes and sabudana, or waterchestnut (available as singara flour or bits), or fruits, or dry-fruits, or sundry dairy stuff. No rice, no roti.

Here are pictures of our lunch - the Maharashtrians got ‘their’ potatoes (boiled, peeled, and crushed and cooked in ghee with a bit of cumin, cayenne, and peanuts - roasted and crushed), accompanied by the sweet lime pickle (which uses neither rai/mustard nor oil) and at long last, I got my potatoes - peeled, cubed, and fried in mustard oil (yeh!) and sprinkled with cayenne and salt. That is the whole point of the fast for me, right there.

Simple Potato Curry from the fields of Western UP

Cooking ‘fresh and local’ is what Barbara would like…from me in Delhi? While there is lots that grows in and around Delhi, I can never tell if what I am eating was grown locally or if it is from the giant portion that a burgeoning city like Delhi needs to import from neighbouring states? Delhi is no different from other large cities that are ‘parasitic’ in nature, eating and drawing blood from further and further into the suburbs and never giving back.

The ecological footprint of Delhi keeps growing with our ever increasing demands for water, power and every other resource. We should soon be getting water from the Tehri dam…should I include the environmental impacts of the dam into the calculations? All we do is take the life out of the river Yamuna, along the flood plains of which there is still agriculture in the city! Maybe not for long…if Sheila Dixit gives in to the land mafia eyeing this last ‘open space’/ ‘vacant land’, for more buildings…

All I have in my yard is the kadi patta, some potted mint, and tulsi (holy basil). The Thai Basil succumbed this monsoon - too wet for it? Poor drainage, more likely. And I am (always) in the mood for (more) aloo.

And Agra, famous for the Taj, is also where my potatoes came from - just a couple of hours drive from Delhi - close enough to be classified as Delhi’s ‘backyard’, under these circumstances. The recipe is from there as well. A simple peasant dish, if you will, of gravied potatoes that relies on the more affordable onions and garlic (homegrown in most cases - in the villages, I mean) for spicing than on any of the other ‘fancy’ spices. These are ground, with a little turmeric, coriander and cayenne, on the sill-batta (sill=flat stone, batta= another word for stone - for pounding and grinding - a different north Indian take on the usual pestle and mortar) to prepare the wet masala. Coriander is amongst the cheapest of spices in India - cheaper garam masalas always have a higher proportion of this.

You cannot beat the sill-batta for its wet grinding prowess. The batta is used for smashing and pounding, and then for grinding with a flick of the wrist. A grinder can never approximate the cutneys off a sill.

If you ever pass by the jhuggi-jhompris (shanties) in our area in the evening, the smell of this masala is everywhere. An everyday tested and trusted recipe of the poor for a delicious dish with all the flavours of their fields back home.

Modur Polav (Sweet Pulao)

Indira’s Independence Day Parade precipitated this…this blog, I mean. And immediately I thought of this fragrant pulao that I haven’t made in a while. It is one of the few sweet dishes that we Kashmiris have. It is not an exaggeration when I say that you can count all of them on one finger, if you count like my husband.

And I thought why not showcase one of them (how exclusive is that!) to celebrate our day of Independence. It is sweet, and it has saffron as its primary colour, the top colour in our tiranga. When served at wedding wazwans it is always the first course - that should tell you something about its stature for a people who don’t care much for the sweet stuff! In old days, sugar must have been dear in a place connected to the rest of the subcontinent only by treacherous mountain roads. The pulao is, quaintly, always paired with a tangy north-Indian kind of achar (the Pachranga kind).

After a few anxious moments on seeing Archana’s entry (Whew! That was close!) I present to you the Modur Polav (sweet pulao) from Kashmir, the northern-most state of India, as my entry at Mahanandi, the very inspiring blog by Indira. In my search for Andhra food I stumbled on her blog some time back and …you surely know what happens to foodies in places like that?

This pulao uses saffron as one of the main spices, the most exclusive variety of which grows right here in Kashmir. This is an authentic recipe from my Mom. I can vouch that it comes out great every time I make it - which is as well - imagine the benchmarks I must have had to confront marrying into a Maharashtrian household! All them varieties of sweets and me with my ‘repertoire’ of all of three. But to tell the truth, I have needed just two of those to have family and friends raving about my dessert-making abilities!! Those have been two real Aces up my sleeve.

Banana Nut Muffins

Teens are strange animals. Ani has stayed away from bananas for the last couple of years, but his favourite muffin is still the Banana Nut. So, while I coax and cajole him to pay more attention to his studies, I also bribe him with his favourite eats and snacks.

This morning we had them muffins for breakfast. This is unusual, since sugar at breakfast is very rare, perhaps all over the country. Doodh-jalebi (hot milk and jalebis) being one such breakfast, popular in parts of UP, that comes to mind.

On the other hand, sugar is big at breakfast-time (and other times) in the West. All the donuts, muffins, and cookies, not to mention the ’sugar bombs’ that Calvin (of the Calvin and Hobbes fame) starts off his day with. Americans consume a mind-boggling 170lbs per capita! Impresssive for a people who were introduced to sugar only in the 15th C! Sugar cane, the only source of Indian sugar, was growing here as far back as 325 BC. Today India is the second largest producer of sugar, after Brazil, but thankfully, despite the long tradition, our per capita consumption is amongst the lowest at 14kg (30lbs approx.). In my own house it is half of that! Part of that may be because I am from Kashmir which does not have much of a tradition of things sweet (compared to just about any other state of the country!).

Of course, white sugar is not the only form of sugar consumed in the country. More than a third of the sugar cane produce is diverted towards the making of gur (jaggery) and other less refined sugars which are an integral part of many regional cuisines. The Bengalis also use the sap from the date palm to derive the delicious, subtly flavoured, patali gur (palm sugar).