Cranberry Beans

It’s nippy tonight – it has snowed in the mountains and it is raining in Delhi.  Some beans and rice is just what I would like…

I was lucky to get a little of the stash of fresh cranberry beans that a cousin brought over from a visit to the valley and shared with my mom who, indulgently, shared it further with me.  I had never seen these beans fresh before.  They are called thool razma in Kashmiri. Much rounder than the regular kidney beans, they do indeed, resemble tiny spotted eggs!  I had never cooked with them or even eaten fresh ones before so I asked my mom for some general directions.  She suggested I cook them with potatoes using the usual Kashmiri combination of fennel and dried ginger powder.

Classic Shrikhand

My previous post didn’t quite make the cut for Express Indian: 6-ingredients-or-under because I had one ingredient too many and there were some protests that I was breaking my own rules. Little do you know that we Delhi-ites are like that only; we know rules are made so that they may be broken!  Nor are we about to turn over a new leaf just because the Commonwealth Games are round the bend and the honourable Minister of Home Affairs P. Chidambram feels we ought to mend our ways. Some things take time.

Meanwhile, here is another Express recipe, this time from TH’s home state of Maharashtra: second to none, the Shrikhand, a creamy dessert that comes together in no time and involves no cooking.  But do plan ahead, more so if you are planning to make the chukka (hung curd) at home.  Shrikhand tastes best if you allow 12-24 hours for the delicate  flavours to meld.  Some like shrikhand to be really smooth and achieve this by passing the mix through a sieve.  In our house we like some texture to shrikhand and skip this step.  My mother-in-law used to add a few spoonfuls of malai (clotted cream) to the chukka.  Every now and then there would be a tiny nugget of the soured malai that gave the shrikhand an additional richness and texture.  But gone are those days of buying fresh water-buffalo milk every morning (long live low-fat lifestyles), skimming the malai off, adding some yoghurt for culture, and collecting it over the next week or two to make butter and ghee. The buttermilk from churning this cultured clotted cream made the best kadhi. Undoubtedly. Sigh.

Palak Panir

I have been cooking a lot of express-Indian these past few months. In fact, my usual cooking is reasonably Express, and predominantly Indian. But this was additionally challenging because I was looking for 6 ingredients or less. I am going to take some creative license and add oil to the list of not-to-be-counted ingredients. There is just a tablespoon of it anyway.

Yes, really. And, no cream. Sorry to have been the harbinger of this disappointing information but it is true that in the ‘real’ palak-panir (pah-luk-pun-nir) there is no cream. The creamed-spinach is likely the contribution of some restaurant-cook to fulfill the expectations of Indian food (quasi-Punjabi-Mughlai in most restaurants abroad) shimmering in that layer of floating fat. You do serve sarson-ka-saag makhan mar ke (splattered-with-butter) but not palak panir. Or, maybe, the name-change that this dish underwent when it was exported to the Western shores might have had something to do with this. Palak-(ka-saag)-panir got mixed up with the aforementioned saag and somewhere along the way became saag panir.  Saag is the generic word for ‘greens’ in Punjabi, but when used by itself usually refers to mustard greens. I believe I have come across recipes (on food blogs) for mustard greens cooked with panir. Inspired? ConFusion? I will keep my counsel.  Maybe Punjabi-kudi can shed more light on this subject…

Dolmas (Stuffed Grape Leaves)

I know, I know – I have been neglecting the blog.  I think i might have writer’s block.  The thing with writing is that you must just keep at it; that’s the only way to get past it.  You cut yourself some slack, waiting for inspiration to strike, and before you know it you have arrived at Writer’s Block!  Sticky place, that.

Yet it’s not as if it has been an uneventful month.  The Big News is that the son has graduated from highschool. Pappu pass ho gaya!! Not just that, he has also managed a place at a good college down South to study the subject he wishes to.  Yes, if all goes as per plan, he is slated to become an engineer in four years.

This is also a month of birthdays in the family, and everyone is a year older.  The son can vote now.  As for me, well… I don’t think 44 is any kind of a milestone…  After 40, they seem to whiz by.

Yet, this birthday ended up special in many ways.  The day began with the usual phone calls from my Mom and sis.  Then my neighbour T walked in to wish me and reminded me about our lunch appointment – yes, T took me out to lunch!  It was after a very long time that I actually liked everything I had ordered at a restaurant.  Thank you, T, for a wonderful afternoon!

Kanji on One Sunny Spring Day

Natural.  Home made. Brew with a (nonalcoholic) kick.  Lip smacking. Kanji.

Every winter I look at the black-purple carrots that appear in the vegetable markets of Delhi and the rest of Northern India, and make a mental note to track down a recipe for kanji. As far as I know, they are used only in the making of this fiery colourful end-of-winter drink. And every year passes just the same as the previous one.

Now, this blog has given me a lot of readers. Some of the readers have gone on to become good friends. Friends who share their views and opinions – and I am glad you are opinionated – share their likes and dislikes (of people, of colours and pictures on this blog and in general, punctuation and pronunciation, and of course, food related stuff). Some have been willing to risk sharing their blog… only to end up fuming later at some very persistent confusion regarding ‘the real owner of IFR’ as the movement spread! I wasn’t complaining about the unintentional link-love it brought. Especially, since I haven’t exactly been in the thick of it all this past year.

Getting into Spring: Paneer Tikka

Spring is here and Delhi is a riot of colour. There are the myriad shades of green and now the blooms. To all this, Holi added its bright colours this week.

It has been a while since we joined in the revelry that Holi is but a party is always welcome. My MIL would always make fruit salad on this day. But who can handle all that cream in this day and age. One Holi we ate homemade pizza and ordered ice cream. If I feel like I will sometimes make gujiya, the traditional Holi sweet here in the North.  [Some other traditional Holi recipes here.]

This year all I did was cut up great looking purple carrots and start the process of preparing a cooling fermented drink… (yes, Pel are you listening?) As it turns out, it is a traditional drink for Holi second only to the frothy bhang! It is an apt one alright – with that deep purple colour…

While you wait for that recipe, here’s the one I promised last time – great party fare this one too.

You could call it Kootu, I suppose

At the end of a more-than-full work day we all deserve to put our feet up and get the much needed rest.  Recharge our batteries.  Good wholesome food contributes much to this recharge.  Many of us also admit to the therapeutic qualities of the act of cooking itself!

Roth – the baked kind. Crusty, you think?
This is my entry for the September edition of Click! the photo event at Jugalbandi.

The last couple of weeks have been more fast paced than ever for me.  Work, work related travel, sister’s visit, Ganesh Chaturthi and the Pun Pooza, and the continuing house renovation, all came to a head. As if I didn’t have enough on my plate already, the maid had to make a sudden visit to her hometown – an extended three week visit.  Which isn’t so bad actually.  Now I can multitask – plan the meal as I brew my evening cup of tea, have all the burners going and cook the veggies as I temper the dal, or roll out roti, and not have to deal with less-than-perfect food prep.  Much better.

Last night, after a grueling 11 hour work day (when I was lucky to have two additional people helping out!) I knew I needed a special meal.  TH brought me a Toro Bravo while I was still at my desk.  It needed to be a rice-night (that means, rice as the main starch for me), I could tell. Nothing short of the comfort of good old Kashmiri food would do.  Though it was late, I prepared dum aloo along with my nani’s special mung dal and served it with steamed rice (and roti – for the undiscerning).

Caronde he Caronde

Please don’t mention Caronda* for some time…it is in every jar I had spare!  There is no room for any more pickles or preserves…As I mentioned last time, I made some caronda chutney a week ago, to use up part of my Dad’d harvest from a bush I planted about ten years ago in the front yard of their house.  I used the idea of a sweet-tangy Indian chutney such as saunth (sweet and sour tamarind chutney) or a mango chutney made with unripe mangoes.  The effort was much appreciated. Since it was a trial batch I got just enough to fill two tiny jars that I sent off to my mum and sister.  The next batch was a repeat of the recipe and this time the effort yielded a big jar – plenty, I thought.

There were still some carondas left which then went into a pickle, pits and all, along with some unripe mango, lotus root, and green chillies. I keep that stoneware jar in the sun, what little there is of it at this time, bring it in every evening, and give it a good stir.  It is looking good.

So far so good.  My mum liked the relish a lot.  She doesn’t eat too much pickle because of the high salt content.  I told her that pitting the fruit was a pain in the rear.  She pitted about a kilo with the help of her maid and presented it to me.  I had thought more like: ok, here’s a recipe you might like to try… But I came home and made my third batch of caronda chutney.  This batch had fewer ingredients – I had already used up my dates; no gur – I couldn’t be bothered; less sugar – I had used up a lot of sugar in the past couple of weeks between the caronda relish and the mango jam, and was making statements with big exclamatory marks regarding the sugar content of the chutney.  The fruit for this batch had ripened further on the plant, was a deeper pink, and there was a subtle change in texture too.  What a pretty pink it turned in the pan!  And the texture – why, it reminded me of sour cherries in syrup!  The slight crispness as you bite into one was so similar!  That made me Google for recipes using sour cherries and I found a bunch that hold promise for next year!  I make no promises…but there might even be Caronda Liqueur on these pages one day!

The Mangoes are Sour

A big chunk of my readers live outside India. And all of them will appreciate how I have tried not to rub salt on their mangoes wounds this year. There has been no talk of mangoes, whatsoever, on this blog so far this year; no debate on which mango is the King, or that mango is King.

But ’tis the season and you all have access to reasonably good unripe sour mangoes. Sour mangoes are loved all over Asia, cooked with dal, with vegetables (it is the perfect foil for bittergourd), or enjoyed as a relish such as Pel’s nam prik wan kap mamuang khiew. And when you don’t want to fuss, just slice them up, dip in salt, and taste nirvana. Not as much fun today when my teeth sour much too quick, but a favourite summer activity when we were kids.

The Old Faithful: Aloo Parantha

Usually, I love my time in the kitchen. More often than not, TH stays out, and is very appreciative of the food I put on the table (even when it is store-bought bread on days such as today when I am too rushed for even a 30-minute meal). But there are (many) days when I am not inclined to step into the kitchen at all.

One such day last year was my birthday. It is rather pathetic to have to cook yourself a special meal when it’s the perfect opportunity for others to show their love for a change. Yet, neither my son nor TH can be expected to bake a cake (not everyone is like Jai!). Every time I am not inclined to cook, the son is willing to order pizza and TH is only too happy to step out to get a fresh loaf of bread. But that day I insisted on a home cooked meal, and varan-bhaat was not going to cut it.

As it crawled towards dinner time and I showed no signs of getting off the couch, TH finally got the message and decided to grab the bull by the horns . Off he went into the kitchen and busied himself to prepare paranthas stuffed with my favourite vegetable – no prizes for guessing this time – potatoes. To bide my time till the paranthas were ready was a seasonal twist on my favourite drink – mango margaritas! Yes, he excelled himself.

Buried under…

This month I have been mostly…

…buried deep in work. I want so much to surface, get a breath of fresh air, and share my notes with you. But work takes priority; it does, after all, help pay the bills.

I have been eating healthy…mostly. Fresh cooked breakfasts had been sacrificed for the convenience of industrial bread…till the guilt caught up with me, and I decided yesterday that enough (of white bread) was enough. And how much work is idli, right?! Wrong. If you want sambar and chutney with it. Still, in about an hour this morning, much of which overlapped with my morning tea-and-newspaper-time, I had fluffy healthful ragi idlies! And there are leftovers for breakfast tomorrow as well!

Moongre ki Subzi (Radish Pods)

I seem to gravitate towards strong tasting vegetables – the pungent and very-brassica smells and tastes my husband likes to categorise as oogra. Nothing brings out the link between all the diverse members of the brassica family (such as broccoli, kohlrabi, haak, cabbage, cauliflower, radish, mustard, kale, and collard) like their flowers and seeds. All of them have the characteristic four-petal blooms (thus the name crusiferae – from ‘cross’ – for this group of plants, also collectively called the mustard family) and the brown-to-black oval-spherical seeds borne in tapering bean-like seedpods (a silique). Maybe now Nabeela will see why I first identified the mustard pods in her quiz as radish pods. The flowers vary in colour from white or cream to lavender or yellow, and are all edible!

Quinoa Soup with Spinach and Pumpkin

Snap, snap…blink, blink… Okay, I am really trying hard to snap out of it. The blog-lethargy that I have slumped into. Maybe it really is the cold (it was a freezing 2 degrees Celsius here in Delhi yesterday) and my brain has frozen over, in addition to my hands and feet. I have been sipping endless cups of tea everyday, hugging the cup in my hands to warm them briefly.

And it isn’t just cups of tea that I have been downing. Winter makes it hard to control calories. This is the time when peanuts (and all nuts and fruits that make up dry fruits) are consumed in large quantities in North India. The most popular way to consume peanuts is to throw a lot of woolens on and around yourself, huddle in a familial group, shelling and stuffing yourself while watching TV. They are the preferred snack at most Delhi bus stops where the peanut seller sits with his pile of peanuts-in-their-shells. He picks the nuts from just under the small earthen pot that has a gently smoldering piece of cow-chip in it, to weighs out hot peanuts that give sustenance and warmth, and also pass time while you wait for your ride to arrive.

Soups do that too – warm us up from the inside out. Winter is also particularly bountiful where vegetables are concerned. There is an abundance of greens: spinach, mustard greens, dill, methi, bathua, kohl rabi, and of course, haak and soutchal, two wonderful Kashmiri greens. Cabbage, cauliflower, broccoli, beetroot, corn, carrots, and tomatoes, add to this bounty, and make this a great season for soup.

101 uses for Mystery Powder

Before Srivalli completely gives up on me, here I am with my experiments with the mystery powder I received through our very own Arusuvai Friendship chain last month. For all my professed past-life claims, the podi Srivalli sent me had me at a complete loss. I have already admitted I am not good at de-constructing spice blends; I totally relied on Manisha’s intuition for kanda-lassun masala.

After staring at the yellow-orange-powder sitting in a packet on my kitchen counter for two days, I gingerly wrote to Srivalli about my predicament… The yellow powder was going to test my self-professed Southie-ness. I could taste turmeric… dhaniya… and… the rest was a mystery. Now, I have made a few South Indian podis: kootu podi, bisibele hulianna podi, milagai podi; this was definitely not one of those. Well, that left only one other podi I knew: sambar masala! So, I prayed and sent an apologetic note to Srivalli asking if that was Sambar podi I had in my possession. It amused her that I was so unsure… but of course, it was! Whew! I heaved a sigh of relief. My reputation (rather, claim) was intact; at least, for now.

A hearty dish of Beans and Rice

We are in the grip of winter here in Delhi. Not quite freezing but close; cold enough for a hearty dish of beans and rice.

Our hills are home to an amazing variety of beans. If you remember I mentioned that on one of my visits I found 200 kinds of beans on display at Dilli Haat! I bought two varieties that time – one was chitre rajma, very similar to cranberry beans I received from a friend in the US, and another was a smooth tan-colour.

How many have you? Clockwise from top: lobia (black eyed peas), varya muth (black beans), chitre rajma, cranberry beans, Kashmiri rajma

Punjabi Chhole (Chickpeas)

Chhole bhature is an absolutely decadent treat that is a must-try if you visit Delhi. It is one of Delhi’s many Punjabi specialties. It is also something I cook less often. Only because of a personal preference for rajma (red kidney beans). I have been working on that for the last six months though.

Over the years I have tried many recipes for chhole, including one for the famous fat-free chhole served with Amritsari kulchas, crispy potato stuffed tandoori bread (not like a naan or roti). Now I have my very own recipe, and it is another family pleaser. And, I have to again admit, I don’t rely on the packaged chana masala, good though they are. And there is a reason for that.

A couple of years ago, we ate a delicious dish of chhole at a friend’s place and I, naturally, asked for the recipe. It was a simple recipe, one using all the usual suspects – ginger, onions, and tomatoes – but all cooked together (with chhole) instead of being bhuno-ed (frying in oil ‘till-the-oil-separates’ stage). She had used MDH chana masala. It was delicious, and I remember we all agreed emphatically as we went over the menu on our drive home. I wasn’t going to let a simple easier method pass me by. I got my pack of chana masala and proceeded to cook a few weeks later.

The verdict?

Sookhi Gobhi Aloo

I love my vegetables and am especially fond of gobhi or cauliflower. All through winter it is the highlight of our menu on at least three meals a week. If I had to pick my favourite way to serve this, sort of like the-first-amongst-equals, it would have to be the Punjabi sookhi goobhi aloo, dry (here meaning without curry) cauliflower with potatoes. I wonder how I didn’t share this sooner?

One of the reasons it is such a regular part of our winter meals is because this vegetable is an all-pleaser. Everyone in this family actually agrees on this vegetable. Thank God for small mercies. There were initial mutterings about the other recipe (before I joined the household) that I would never cook…but they settled eventually on their own. This is a star recipe, and comes together very quickly. While the vegetables are cooking, you can prepare the roti and you have a wonderful meal ready in 30 minutes! Dal with it is good; yoghurt, better. Slice some mooli (daikon radish) on the side, or maybe you have some leftover bharleli mirchi, and you have put together a delicious meal in a jiffy.

Spicy Nutty Cluster Beans

Yes, about that stunner gavar recipe. I never cared much for these beans. It may have something to do with the name – in Hindi the word also means ‘a country bumpkin’.

Sunny Salubri-tea

The spirit was willing…but the flesh very weak. But here I am after a not-too-long hiatus from blogging. I guess, we all need a break now and then, to get the juices flowing again.

JFI:Rice came. And went. Nothing from the Kashmir stables after having admitted “there is much Kashmiris do with rice.” That too when I have, at the least, nine varieties of rice in my pantry! And I had so planned to cook ver, the Kashmiri rice gruel/konji/risotto named after the spice mix that goes into it, that is cooked to kick off all auspicious functions. It will have to wait for some time, though I do have just the rice for it.

Meanwhile, let me serve you something cool and refreshing, while there is still some heat in the sun and warmth in the weather. Just in time for Meeta’s Monthly Mingle: Liquid Dreams.

Bhopal and Hyderabadi Qabooli

After the poori-madness I was sure I wanted to do an obviously healthful recipe (read – low fat) to restore some respectability to the blog which had gained some kind of notoriety what with the no-holds-barred-deep-fried partying and all. The occasion had demanded indulgence and many of you seemed to agree wholeheartedly .

But things don’t always go as planned. Life happens. The pictures of my quick low-fat nutritious snack didn’t turnout that great (although the khandvi was as delicious as ever) and the blog was held up at the poori for some time.

Meanwhile, I visited Bhopal, the capital of Madhya Pradesh, ‘the heart of India’. It was a rushed visit with no time free for sightseeing. What little there was, was spent searching for a place to eat. Biryani and kababs were recommended and we spent a good part of one evening looking for them.

Zafraani Zamodod

plain dahi

Zafraan (Persian)/kesar (Hindi)/kong (Kashmiri) or saffron, is the most expensive spice in the world, worth more than its weight in gold. In India it has always been measured in tolas, a unit of measure used for weighing gold (approximately 12gm). Kashmiri saffron with its long and deep maroon strands and a delicate aroma is the most valued in the world.

If you were ever disappointed with your Kashmiri saffron, and wondered what the fuss was all about, it is likely that you received saffron that was blended with the less expensive Spanish or Iranian saffron. A few months back my Mom got hold of a little of the real stuff through a cousin working in Kishtwar (Kashmir). Despite having all her culinary secrets revealed here she gave the entire lot to me! Isn’t she the best?

Very little Kashmiri saffron is exported, most of it being consumed within India. It is an ideal flavouring for Indian desserts which are mostly milk based. Occasionally it is also used in savory preparations such as pulaos and biryanis.

In Kashmir, it is primarily used in desserts such as the Modur Polav, and Kheer. On special occasions it may also be used to flavour Kahva. During weddings it gets sprinkled on top of our much loved zamodod/dahi (yoghurt) served in earthen pots to guests at the banquet, and also on the larger pots of dahi that make up the goodies (including nuts, fruits, and giant balls of rock-sugar, called nabud in Kashmiri, and mishri in Hindi) that the new bride brings with her to her new home. Those of you who have had Shrikhand will know how special dahi becomes with the addition of saffron.

Express Cooking: Meal #1

Mallugirl has thrown a challenge to prepare meals that take just 10-30 minutes from start to finish. Ten minute meals will naturally have to rely on processed foods or some amount of pre-prep. But 30 minutes is long enough to put together something decent from scratch. With the trusted pressure cooker, and a 3-4 burner stove, there are many meals you can put on the table in that much time.

For me it is deciding what to cook that is the hard part. Once that’s done, it’s all easy from there. In fact, I think most of my everyday cooking falls within that average of 30 minutes of active time (check the under-30-minute category).

Greek Cucumber Salad

This is my son’s favourite salad. And it is, perhaps, the oldest recipe in my repertoire. I read the recipe in National Geographic Kid’s, NatGeo’s magazine for children, when I was about 13 years old, and have been making it since.

Yes, it is very much like the Indian cucumber raita. But with a twist. This raita includes lime juice, which I had thought odd, since dahi is already a little tart. But am I glad my young mind didn’t decide to omit it! I have a rule of sorts – the first time around I try to stick to a recipe as much as possible, substituting only if an ingredient is unavailable.

Mango Jam

Nothing compares to the taste of organically grown fresh produce from your own garden. It is seasonal, it has ripened naturally, and made it to your table with the smallest ecological footprint possible.

But if the bounty is large you may be left with a lot even after you have shared it with friends, family, neighbours, and house help. That is when you fall back on the age old methods for preserving fresh produce. Sun-drying, and freezing are the easiest.

When Life Gives You Limes…

When life gives you lemons…well, actually I got limes, Persian limes, to be precise…make limeade.  I have finally established that what we use in India are not lemons! The most common yellow nimboo (from Persian – limoo) that we use day in and day out, goes by the name Key Lime in the US. What my Dad has in his garden are two Persian Lime trees.

The crop is in – I have 90 kilos of Amrapali mangoes, and 20 kilos of the most beautiful limes to deal with! Usually, I have to tackle just about a third of this, but with my parents away for the summer I have to consume/process the major part of this lot. A third has already been sent to my sister who lives in the neighbouring city of Gurgaon. She is going to have to make her own pickles and jams this year – I have too much on my hands.

Monjji Haak…at long last

For all their love for goat meat Kashmiri Pandits love their greens with an almost equal passion. There are many types of greens, wild and cultivated, that find their way to balance the daily meals.

If that be so, you might well wonder how come there has been no Kashmiri greens recipe on this blog yet. The fact is that the most common way with our most popular green, the haak, is also the least spectacular. In a matter of speaking, you may say they are just blanched greens. My non-Kashmiri side of the family didn’t think it was anything to write home about. So I didn’t. And my son and I continued to secretly also relish the fact that there would always be more for us!

Lentil Burgers and Flowers Wild

It’s no secret that I love potatoes. Who doesn’t? And they make a swell burger too. But the veggie burgers my sister used to (have to) eat in the Union cafetaria were not made from potatoes alone. They had many grains and other indescribable things in it. I can’t describe them because I never ate those – there were perfectly good real burgers for me.

But in a family that is 50% vegetarian, real burgers pose a problem. Though the potato based vegetarian burgers I make are a perfectly tasty option that we all love, I was looking for a more meaty texture. After looking at Nandita’s burgers, I decided to finally give lentil burgers a try.

Kahva – no ordinary Cup of Tea, and a Quiz

A cup of tea is just what I need tonight. Even in this stifling heat. Just the act of making the tea is a sort of unwinding. The relaxation comes as much from the process of making tea as it does from the cup itself. And a cup of tea is what we are going to have.

As a typical Indian, I am a die-hard tea-aholic. And no matter how low-brow it may be, I really love black tea served with milk and sugar. I love the Punjabi tea which is more milk than water that has been boiled with black tea leaves, and some ginger (during cooler weather), and not a little sugar. I also like what I drink everyday – a mix of equal parts (by volume) of granular black tea (Brooke Bond Red Label) and green tea (Brooke Bond Green Label) steeped in hot water for a few minutes to which I add a little milk and just a wee bit of sugar.

A Rose is a Rose is a Rose!

“A rose by any other name would smell as sweet,” spake the great Bard, though he may not have been alluding to the flower at all. And there are many magnificent rose hybrids today that are a lot of show, but hardly any legendary fragrance.

R is for Rosa. The Indian desi Gulab or musk rose (Rosa moschata), a very fragrant rose variety, is closely related to the Damascus rose (Rosa damascena) that originated in Persia. It produces small flowers (2 to 3 inch across) with red or pink petals. The petals retain their delicate fragrance long after drying, which makes them an ideal ingredient for potpourris. The desi gulab is grown on a large scale for the ayurveda and cosmetic industries.

Rose oil is an essential ingredient in itr, oil-based Indian perfumes. Rose water is used in the preparation of many Indian and middle-eastern dishes. A hint of fresh roses is what makes the rasgulla taste so refreshing. Gulab ark (rose extract) is also a key ingredient in Hamdard’s ever-popular summer drink Rooh Afza. Milk shakes made with Rooh Afza are part of my childhood memories – what a deliciously pretty pink that milk shake is!

Gulab, along with the fragrant mogra (Jasminum sambac), is (was?) the flower of choice, to decorate a newly-wed couple’s room (a bed of roses?). Some of the rose petals strewn on our bed got into the gaps of the mattresses and delicately perfumed the bed for months!

A Delhi Summer – On the Streets

It is not easy to sum up an old city like Delhi, with all the layering, in one post. And I am not planning to attempt it.

In this city of 10 million people there is no getting away from the crowd. There are people everywhere, and they continue to pour in – from smaller cities and the villages. The biggest influx into Delhi was in 1947, during the Partition of the country, when many Hindus and Sikhs from West Punjab (now in Pakistan) sought refuge.

It is only natural that a city 3000 years old has imbibed influences from all over the world, and these are reflected in its culture – art and architecture, language, and of course, in its cuisine. The Persian influence is prominent in the Mughlai cuisine, though the Punjabi flavours predominate today. But whosoever came and settled here had to deal with the hot and dusty summers.

An Amaltas in all its glory

Not that that is an entirely bad thing. How else would the mango be so sweet? While the temperate world revels in its fall colours, we have a green green spring followed by the vibrant summer. The sun makes our greens shine, the reds brighter, and the yellows sunnier. Who can rival the Gulmohur (Delonix regia) or the Amaltas (Cassia fistula), when it comes to a show of colour?

The King of Fruits

Thawed, sliced Amrapali (from my Dad’s trees)

Summer is peaking in Delhi and there is, on the Web, a lot of hot air around the most beloved of our fruits, the Mango. On it being exported to the US. On Hapoos vs. the Rest. All the heated debates and discussions are rooted deep in our love, bordering on reverence, for this most delicious of fruits. The Mango is believed to have originated in India, and the best varieties still do! There is no debate over that

The mango is no ordinary fruit; it is woven into the warp and weft (literally!) of this ancient country and its customs. Torans made out of the leaves of the mango tree adorn the doorway of Hindu homes on auspicious and religious occasions, and are included into many of the associated rituals. The tree and its fruit are symbols of fertility and abundance, love and devotion. It is also referred to as Kalpavriksha or Kalpataru, the mythological wish-fulfilling tree.

Babur, the first Mughal emperor, called it the ‘finest fruit of Hindustan’. The beautiful mango tree with its evergreen fronds was frequently featured in the beautiful Kangra school Miniatures.

fruit laden Amrapali (in my parents’ garden)

The beautiful mango is the inspiration for the ageless Indian motif, the ambi that weaves its way into sarees and other textiles. The ambi was later modified into the elongated Kashmiri badam (almond), better known all over the world as the Paisley motif, after the Scottish town where machine-made copies of the exquisite Kashmiri embroidered shawls were manufactured in the 19th Century.

Aloo Palak (Spinach with Potatoes)

After the popularity (and blog success) of Shakuntala’s Aloo ki Ras Bhaaji, I had been trying to get her to teach me something new. She hails from Western UP in North India and I incorporate a lot of North Indian influence in my everyday food. This essentially makes my everyday food only a variation of hers. Last week I decided to try her version of Aloo Palak (spinach with potatoes) that is a variation on my Punjab-type.

Aloo palak is a popular no-fuss Punjabi dish. A long long time ago we lived briefly in West Delhi where the population is mainly Punjabi. On the way back from grocery shopping my Mom would sometimes pick a kulhar (a disposable terracotta take-away container) of aloo palak from Sardarji’s dhaba to serve at dinner.

Those were days when there were open, unbuilt-upon areas available where a woman could set up a make-shift tandoor, dug into the ground, and provide roti-making service to other harried housewives at lunchtime in the peak of summer. I remember my mom occasionally sending me and my younger sister with some dough, flour, and ghee to get them made into hot tandoori rotis. There was some nominal charge per roti for the baking and the lady also got to keep the dry flour and any ghee that did not get used up.

It used to be fascinating to watch the woman pinch off the dough and pat it into a thick roti, place it on a hand-held cloth padding for the final slap onto the hot surface of the glowing tandoor. One by one they would go in. She would then pick her hooked metal spike and dislodge one from the clay surface and flip it onto the hot coals to briefly cook the other side before pulling it out.

Of Wadis and Papads

Harmandir Sahib, Amritsar, Punjab

Despite living in Punjab’s neighbourhood all my life it is only this year that I finally visited Amritsar for the first time. While I couldn’t find much time for a city tour, I did visit the Harmandir Sahib in the evening. Harmandir Sahib, also called the Golden Temple because of the gilding on its walls and domes, is the most sacred of Sikh shrines. Work on the temple started in the late 16th C and over the next couple of centuries it attained much of its present form. Maharaja Ranjit Singh is credited with the exquisite marble and gold work on the temple.

Outside the Temple are many shops and dhabas catering to pilgrims and the casual tourist. I was told the best place to buy the famed spicy Amritsari wadis and papads was right there. I picked on one that claimed to be dealing in these commodities for over a 100 years. Seemed like they would know what a good wadi should be.Wadis are available with varying degrees of spicy-ness. I naturally, asked for the spiciest ones. Then I had to pick between ‘with or without plums’. Hmm…with plums sounded nice, but plain ones are classic. So I got both. When I was paying for them there was some confusion regarding which were which – after discussing at length I managed to confuse the shopkeeper as well . To tell you the truth, I couldn’t tell even after cooking, unless by some strange coincidence, I ended up keeping all of one kind for myself and distributing the other between family and friends. Family and friends, those of you with better sense of taste, please stand up and let us know if you detected any note of tart plums in yours.

Mint and Walnut Chutney

Mustard fields, Punjab

Spring arrives early in the Northern Plains of India. The Hindu calendar marks Basant Panchami as the first day of spring. Basant coincides with blooming mustard fields, and it is from these perhaps, that the colour yellow has come to symbolize spring to us. If you have ever seen a mustard field in spring you will know the magic I am talking about. Reading about spring and cherry blossoms on other blogs also reminded me of Kashmir. Blossoms of the cherry and the almond trees herald the arrival of spring in the valley.

If anyone likes warmer weather it is my potted mint. After looking sad all winter it perks up at the sight of spring. As the bright green leaves begin to grow they find their way into a lot of things in my kitchen – omelettes and scrambled eggs, cold soups and salads, refreshing jal jeera, and into many a chutney. All of you probably have your favourite recipe for mint chutney. As do I.

Whole Wheat Pita and some Labneh

The Arab-middle east-North Africa region, even the Mediterranean, have much that can be thought of as a common food heritage with the Indian subcontinent. The use of spices such as cumin, peppercorns, nutmeg, and bayleaf provide for the linking aromas, and the prominence of lentils and beans as a major ingredient in everyday food also speaks of a shared history. I find the similarities even more striking with North Indian food.

It is a cuisine for which the Indian palate needs no gradual tuning. We can embrace it in a bear hug the very first time we meet.

Besides the similarity in the use of spices, lentils and beans, as also vegetables, I find the plentiful use of yoghurt and the variety in flatbreads another reason for its easy adaptability to the Indian meal time. Even when meat is part of the meal, it is never the meal itself, and will always be served with some bread akin to out roti/parantha, and maybe a small bowl of dahi, the kind that has become better known as Greek-style yoghurt.

Tomato Chutney

Tomayto-tomahto, tamahtar-timahtar. What a vegetable! Yes, yes, I know, technically it is a fruit, a berry. And a berry good one it is . So good that even Kashmiris have begun to include it into their traditional recipes, tamatar-baingan being among my Dad’s favourites. But there’s no Kashmiri recipe today. Let’s do another one for ‘the left-side’, the side reserved on the Maharashtrian thali for pickles, relishes, and chutneys.

There is this tomato chutney I make that uses just a few ingredients. I watched Sanjeev Kapoor make it many years ago on his very popular show Khaana Khazaana. I didn’t note down the recipe but since the ingredient list was short I was able to make a very decent chutney when I tried it soon after. I have made it many times since but always going by ‘feel’ as most of us who have been cooking for a considerable time tend to do. When you do that, it becomes hard to write recipes down. This blog is becoming a repository where I must commit to measurable units. Already, I check here for a couple of my own recipes! So, today I measured as I went about adding the ingredients.

Relishing the Radish

Here is another Kashmiri vegetarian recipe. It is special because it is one of the few accompanying dishes that make up Kashmiri cuisine. The rest of India has a mind boggling variety of things to be ‘served on the left side’ of the thali. Let me explain this. There is a specific sequence to serving food in Maharashtra. You start with a bit of salt on the left side. This is the side reserved for all accompaniments: chutneys, pickles, wedges of lemon, koshimbirs (salads) or raitas. Bhajjis (pakoras), if part of the meal, will also find room here. Next will be a katori of daal, and then to the right of the thali is the main subzi. Rice and roti are towards the lower centre of the thali. The sweet, somewhere in the middle, is always served along with the meal. Even for everyday meals you will have something served on the left, even if just a pickle, though chutneys are served frequently. It would sadden my MIL to serve just a pickle ‘daavi kade‘ (on the left side!).

I have no idea why the Northern most state of our country is so lacking in this category. Maharashtra, Gujarat and all the Southern states lay as much emphasis on this ’side’ to introduce a complexity of texture and flavour into their cuisine. It might have something to do with Kashmiris being obsessed with their meat or the harsh climate making cooking harder with women concentrating on getting the meat cooked in time for the unusually early meal times. Lunch, in most houses, would be ready and served before 10:00 in the morning. Everyone ate and went to work or school. Where was the time to sit and pound different things together in a pestle and mortar? The plentiful fresh fruits and vegetables such as radishes and cucumbers are perfect for snacking and getting the crunch that might have been missed at meal time.

Though there are just a few chutneys and raitas but these are much loved and used over and over. One loved vegetable is mooli (daikon radish). It is cooked with fish or nadur (lotus stem) to lip-smacking results. It is also the vegetable of choice for making our most popular raita – mujj chatin. For some reason it is called a chutney. Grated mooli added to thick salted dahi with chopped green chillies mixed in. Red chilli powder and a pinch of shah zeera (black cumin) is totally optional. This is the only Kashmiri dish in which I will use a garnish of coriander leaves. I love coriander, but it is not traditional to Kashmiri cuisine.

The Last Word on Kheer

Well, as I was saying (paraphrasing Ammini) “Much is made of rice in Kashmir.” It is the staple at meal times, naturally. For most ‘holy’ days and special days like birthdays, as also to mark new beginnings, we make taher (soft ta – her) – rice cooked with turmeric and mixed with salt and heated mustard oil as naveed (prasad); more delicious than you may think. Any function in the family – weddings, yagnopavit (the thread ceremony) – the bua or maasi (aunts) will make ver, a risotto like preparation in which rice is spiced with caraway seeds, heeng, and vari-masala, and creamed with the gradual addition of water and mustard oil (what else!), quite the olive oil to us. There will be walnuts added, or in the non-vegetarian avtar, chichir (bits of, ahem, intestine). While modur polav is usually served at weddings, the sweet at other less-extra-ordinary occasions is the Kheer.

Now, this is again where Kashmiris are at loggerheads with Maharashtrians. Maharashtrians serve rice kheer only for shraddha! And we think the(ir) sevian (vermicelli) kheer is nothing to write home about (no relation of the muslim seviyan, mind you, which is an altogether different delicious animal). We serve rice first on our thali which then receives all the gravied dishes – katori being used only to serve yoghurt. On a Maharashtrian thali, rice is served last; except, again, when observing a shraddha. If they serve the rice to the front of the thali, we serve it on the other end away from you, and you bring forward, a little at a time, mix it how you want and eat. They serve a dainty handful, we upturn an entire bowl-full. Yet the twain has met!

For the Love of the Potato

The potato, though sometimes maligned, is easily the world’s most popular vegetable. I totally know the meaning of this Irish proverb: “Be eating one potato, peeling a second, have a third in your fist, and your eye on a fourth.” We Indians consume a reasonably impressive 24 kilos per capita. My favorite are the starchy floury kind, which love to absorb all the moisture you will provide. Read more about the history and cultivation of potatoes in India.

All you skeptics believe me when I tell you that it is also one of the most nutritious vegetables: a 250gm serving of potatoes is under 200 calories, a rich source of protein, starch and fibre, as also vitamin C. It becomes less healthy only when served as deep fried chips, or cooked in oodles of fat. Cooking with the skin, or boiling and peeling are the best ways to preserve most of the nutrients.

Sookhe Aloo was the opening post on this blog followed by other favourite ways to dish up potatoes. I have stated my love for the spud with every recipe featuring it. Busy though I have been this month, I am not going to let go an opportunity to showcase it. People, welcome The Potato, to the JFI Hall of Fame. No vegetable deserves it more.

As I look back at the pictures of what I have been cooking this month (and never getting around to writing), I was impressed. I cooked it for breakfast, for lunch, and for dinner. As the main dish, for the one dish meal, and as the helper dish. Preparations from Northern, Southern, Eastern and Central India, and a few ways I learned on the other side of the world, half-way across. And it found its way into many combinations as well: gobhi-aloo, baingan-aloo, sabudana khichadi, mixed veggies…

Wholesome Burgers…Have Some Tonight

Indian students are a pampered lot: pretty much all of us are fully supported by our parents, with mothers only too happy to provide good nutritious timely meals. And we take all of this for granted, including the state subsidy, and the scholarships for grad studies. (I have an opinion on GATE scholars and scholarships, but it doesn’t go down well with dinner for some. Later. But I would like to state, for the record, that it is not birthright, and yes, you are supposed to try to get at least passing grades.)

Attending grad school in the US taught me a lot of things. It is hard work for most American students to put themselves through school. In my pottery class, which I was taking for fun (but getting grad credit for, nevertheless – I wasn’t going to let my credit hours not count towards my degree – every cent counts!) I met this young girl, who had a full time job, was a single parent, and was getting herself an arts degree taking evening classes. And I thought what a cushy life most students in India have. We think school is work enough.

With that kind of student routine, it would be a miracle to not want to reach out for packaged, microwavable ‘food’. And it is expected that you are going to gain 15 pounds as you start college – the Freshman 15, as they are called. And, believe me when I tell you, that I lost 15 pounds in the first semester of grad school! Being away from my little son and husband had something to do with it; having to multiply everything with 35 (the exchange rate at that time) had something to do with it ; not having spare change had something to do with it. Eating home-cooked food had a lot to do with it, as did living 20 minutes (walking) from the studio.

Whole Wheat Bread

We all read about the NYT no-knead bread last month. It was all over the blogs . But, I was going to have to make mine the hard way. You see, I do not possess a deep, lidded, oven-proof dish that is the prerequisite for the aforementioned bread. From all the debate I gathered that the ‘covered’ pan was the key to raise the moisture during baking, and the secret behind the dead gorgeous crust, and that throwing ice cubes into the oven floor was not going to get me the exact same result. But I liked the idea of less yeast and the longer rising time.

So I decided to work with my basic bread dough recipe and try a few changes. Less yeast, less sugar, less oil, and a much longer rise.

Carrots, Peas and Potatoes with Dill

At first I thought I should stay away from the normal and mundane. But I also know that more often than not I am looking for someone else’s normal and routine; something that will take the same-old-same-old out of my lunch and yet have the same simplicity and wholesomeness that comes from tradition; from generations of being tested in home-kitchens till perfect. Most of the ‘new’ dishes I have tried from other bloggers are what are obviously their everyday favourites.

So I present today the humble carrots and peas with dill. Dill (soa/soya ka saag) is another of our winter greens, but one that finds few none takers in this household. But I, fearlessly, feed them this dish at least a couple of time every winter, hoping it will grow on them. As for me – well – I simply love it.

Refrigerator Pickles

Fibre, over at 28 cooks, wrote about vegetable pickles. I bookmarked it and then let it slide (going back to drool on the picture now and then). And then Tea at Tea and Cookies wrote about her version of radish pickles and I thought I absolutely must make these. And then she posted about them again. What was I to do?

You may have had all kinds of pickles (and there is no limit to the variety in Indian pickles!) but, as far as I know, these are the best looking pickles. Ever. One look and you will not be able to keep yourselves from making them for very long.

Even that blog-her friend of mine who is on a diet plan . This is no oil-based Indian pickle, but more like a salad just waiting in a jar.

I looked at the other links from the above blogs and then tweaked the basic recipe to suit the ingredients I had at hand. Without further ado, let me get to the recipe. The pictures sell the pickle! It sits in my fridge like a glowing ruby, getting deeper every day.

All the Goodness of Eggs

I have never been into fad diets. Nor do I reposit my faith in pretend foods. Why would anyone eat I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter when you can have the real thing which is Butter. But when I was younger I did attempt ‘altering’ my diet occasionally.

To find an alternative to tasty butter-toast, I would quick-cook a bunch of ‘green’ things – onions, tomatoes, sweet peppers, sometimes mushrooms, lots of coriander, some mint and green chillies – season it with salt and pepper and serve it on toast. A delicious alternative you will agree.

Spread #1: cream cheese with sun-dried tomatoes

As I said, there are many tastes that we try to recreate within the limitations of the Indian home kitchen. Earlier the challenge was the unavailability of the fancy ingredients. Now, when most are readily available, I sometimes refuse to buy ‘ordinary’ ingredients such as Philly cream cheese or sun-dried tomatoes if they’re going to cost an arm and a leg. There are others like fish sauce which I must. I haven’t looked for a recipe yet, and doubt if TH will be all that understanding if I stink up the house instead of just the dish I am going to eat all by myself. Believe it or not, I’m the only one who likes Thai in this house!

Now, the cream cheese base I use here is something I have used for years and years. But I used to call it curd-cheese till I had Philly for the first time. So, on my return to India, I knew cream cheese would not be hard to get.

Sun-dried tomatoes?? How to get these without burning a hole in the pocket for something that is basically not so dear? Brace yourself people, here comes another tip that will save many of you who may be the quintessentially penny-pinching Indians (like me . It’s a good thing!) some moolah, or help out those of you away from what we erroneously call ‘civilization’, or even those who just want to have more control over what goes inside.

Now, all of us have heard of cooking with dried vegetables, right? Nothing new there. In Kashmir it was very common to dry most vegetable for use later in the winter months when everything would be blanketed in snow. Turnips and turnip greens, egg plant, cauliflower, and even bottle gourd! Dried vegetables have a unique taste and smell all their own. As does hawgaad, the tiny dried fish cooked with other things. I never liked that; only smell, no meat.

If you can dry gourd, you can pretty much dry anything, I thought. And Italians obviously dry the tomatoes in sun?!

Instant Gratification: Rava Idli

Back to my favourite cuisine, food from Southern India.

The down side of this cuisine is that a lot of the quick-cooking foods require planning ahead – at least by a 24 hours! I am talking here of the breakfast/tiffin items such as the dosai and the idli. But a couple of weeks back I had this urge to have idlies, and I wanted them that very minute.

I had heard of rava idlies but never made them. Actually, never had them either.

Let me take a moment here and tell the non-natives about the correct pronunciation before these become popular in the West as super healthy fluffy fat-free breakfast thingies and everybody starts talking about them, and NDTV decides that the American pronunciation is the correct way to say the word. I kid you not – have you never heard their ‘nature’ correspondent, whats-her-name, say Him-la-yaas for what is the bloody-lofty Himalaya! (Correct pronunciation: Him-aa-la (rhyming with ‘the’)-ya (like ‘yuh’). And someone should also help them with the right way to say ‘Mumbai’. It’s not Moom-bye. It’s cute when Americans say it (just as my friends thought it was ‘cute’ when I said ‘vet’ when I meant ‘wet’!), but for Indians to forget the name of the lofty sentinel in the north – too cute.

WBB#6 Twisted Dalia?

Some like porridge. Some will not touch it with a ten-foot-pole. My family falls in the latter category. But dalia* is a healthy way to include fibre and when made into a porridge with milk can keep you going well till lunchtime.

But even I cannot have porridge more than once in a couple of weeks. And, so the packet of dalia lay woefully in the larder with no takers. Being the true Indian that I am, I am loathe to dump food that is not either totally infested or rotting.

Necessity is the mother of invention, they say. And this is the only dish I have ever created. Any resemblance to any other dish is unintentional and purely coincidental . Mostly I adapt recipes to suit what is available, or change a few proportion to suit my inclination, but this is something I put together all on my own, though I admit it has been inspired by couscous.

I had couscous once, a long time ago, when my sister prepared it in our university apartment. Couscous, which is partially cooked wheat that has been coarsely ground, requires only soaking in hot water to serve. Dalia, on the other hand, needs soaking and pan-cooking. But, the textures are very similar.

With the couscous in mind and that packet of dalia at hand I got an inspiration a couple of years ago. Today dalia is a happy breakfast at our table on many Sunday mornings. Filled with the goodness of veges and fibre, and looow in fat, this (I’m gonna call it Sunday Dalia Twist!) is amongst super-healthy-eating husband’s favorite breakfasts! Porridge? That’s history.

Maybe I should call it Dalia Ravivar! Ice cream that is even better is a Sundae…Dalia that is nothing like porridge is Ravivar! (Lame? You suggest a name…really!)

Paper Chef #22 and More Pumpkin

I had been wanting to participate in the Paper Chef event for some time now. This weekend I even remembered to check the list of ingredients posted by Owen at Tomatilla but there was only the running list. Then I checked again on Monday. Nothing. As I began to wonder if I really understood the rules…there was the list of ingredients on Tuesday, finally!

1. Barberries – or any berries.
2. Pumpkin
3. Spinach (or any other green), and since Paper Chef #22 had ended up starting on a slow note, the topical ingredient was going to be
4. Slow

One look at the ingredients and I thought ‘Dhansak’! The first time I cooked this was just a couple of weeks back using a combination of Nandita’s (of Saffron Trail, and someone who seems to be getting mentioned here all the time!) and this recipe. Curried lentils cooked with vegetables, served with rice, what else can you ask for. I knew this was a keeper.

And this time’s Paper Chef event seemed to be calling out for a version of the delectable Parsee Dhansak. The Parsees have contributed to the variety in Indian cuisine in no small way. Their food traces its uniqueness to its roots in ancient Persia (remember Mesopotamia?).

Baakar Bhaji (Pumpkin Curry)

It’s Divali time. Yes, I am spelling it with a ‘v’ because that’s how we pronounce it, and I did finally get the difference in the v and w sounds (thanks, Bruce) even if I don’t always remember while speaking.

And all of us have a lot to do: clean the house (the curtains, the slip covers and cushion covers, and…), even get the house painted maybe (what a chore that is). And there are all the Divali goodies to be planned and cooked. I am sure most of the Indian food bloggers are going to put up quite a show.

Is there time to put a good meal on the table? I read Nandita’s comment and how busy she has been and thought it was time for another post in the ‘under 30 min’ category. Something to help you along while you spring clean and still score with the MIL (or TH, or the wife?) .

You’ll need to have access to one Maharashtrian spice though, the goda masala aka kala masala. There is no time to make it at home at the moment but you can find a recipe here (though not the way my MIL used to make). It is to Maharashtrian cuisine what the garam masala is to North Indian. Every family has their own variation and every shop (in Pune or Mumbai) seems to have its own recipe as well.

This summer I had planned to re-stock in Mumbai but the shops failed me. None that I visited, carried the really black kind. Most were a deep brown and did not use any coconut. Now why would it be called kala (black) masala if it was supposed to be brown! So I am going to have to make my own. I now have all the ingredients but have been putting it off. I am down to the last few teaspoons full. So…anytime now.

You cannot substitute the kala masala with any other because of this one spice, the pathar phool (translated: ’stone flower’), a kind of lichen! It gives the goda masala its distinctive taste and aroma. So, talk to your friendly Maharashtrian neighbour (hopefully, they have the black kind) and ask for some. While you are visiting, don’t be bashful, and ask for a little amsul or kokum as well.

Quick and Easy Salad

This is a quick salad to make. A good companion to different cuisines whether Indian, Italian, American, or even Chinese. In fact, it is inspired by Kylie Kwong’s tomato salad from her TV show Cooking with Heart and Soul, which I love watching. I have already made it thrice for dinner this week–just tomatoes (yum!), tomatoes and cucumber (no onions, as requested by TH), and then as per this recipe.

The simple recipe is versatile. Today I added a few cabbage leaves (chiffonade) and some cilantro as well. The taste is in the freshness of the ingredients with the fresh cracked pepper being of essence. Do not use pre-ground pepper. You could add torn spinach, iceberg lettuce, carrots, radishes…Makes a wonderful colourful addition to the meal. Simplicity at its best.

Lime Marmalade

I was trying to think of a good house warming gift for a client who has everything and more. And I had been wanting to make my Lemon Lime Marmalade again. So I said, “I must make my marmalade!” But as used to happen with a lot of my experimental cooking, I would never note it down and next time around, still need to search. Now I have this blog.

Search I did but no recipe came close to what I had tried the last time (there were no blogs then!). So I did what I always do: look at a number of recipes, make up my mind about the substitutions and eliminations, and then go ahead.

I remembered using sliced lemons limes last time. But all the recipes I found this time (there weren’t too many, I’m afraid–bloggers don’t make Lime jams it seems) wanted me to follow tedious pulp removals or squeeze the juice. I checked the fruit to sugar ratio (and promptly reduced it!) and went from there…

Bihari Mashed Potatoes

If you follow this blog then you know that potatoes are my second love. It is amazing how easily it makes a home in the cuisines of the world. It is very accomodating and definitely a team player. There are few dishes where it would be a no-no; sambar being one for me. Never in sambar. But it can be paired very well with peas and carrots, eggplant or cauliflower, with bitter gourd, colocasia, or even okra! It holds its own with greens such as spinach or methi; and takes on a whole different avtaar when cooked with mutton (but then do most other vegetables!).

For all my love of potatoes or maybe, because of it, I feel I can always use a new recipe. In this search I came across Bihari Aloo ka Bharta some time back. There are a number of sites (on the Web) that have the exact same recipe. My guess is that the mother-source may be Monica Bhide’s recipe at e-Gullet though the dish may actually be as homely (in Bihary homes) as the jeera aloo in Indian dhabas. I haven’t made any changes to the recipe other than what happens naturally when an Indian cooks; we never note down the amount of the various ingredients, relying instead on our own experience and preferences.

This dish is indeed more than the sum of its simple ingredients so opt out of any of them at your own peril. You could always call it something else. The crunch of the onion, the lingering taste of the garlic, the smoky heat of flakes of toasted chili, together with the addition of uncooked mustard oil brings the dish together. Even if you have never cooked with mustard oil before, I would suggest you give it the same respect you afford olive oil in a non-Indian recipe. It is the final finish for this dish. Skip it and you have a different animal to deal with. Besides, it wouldn’t be Bihari anymore.

Fat-free Potato Chips and Low-fat Kofta Curry

“Next, you’ll be telling me to boil poories”, is what my MIL had said in exasperation one day! Some of us take the low-fat thing to an extreme. I manage that myself sometimes. ‘Boiled poories’ may never happen but, recently, I have managed fat-free potato chips and low-fat ghia (bottle gourd) koftas.

Good enough.

For the fat-free chips you should go to 28 cooks. Her Microtato Chips taste exactly like the fried, out-of-bag variety! Absolutely unbelievable, but better believe it. Sorry, no pics. Nothing can hold off anyone from chips. Not even I. I kept my counsel and did not make outrageous demands like ” Hands off, till I shoot”. And these are fat-free chips, hello!

My guess is they may not store well. But you have to deal with that if there are any left over. If.

For the fat-free Potato Chips you need:

scrubbed potatoes
a well-oiled microwave-safe (glass) casserole dish (or wax paper)
seasoning (I used lemon-pepper salt + some of my own dry, crushed, mint)

Slice or peel (if you have a peeler that thick-peels) potatoes. Season as desired. Oil your casserole dish and spread the sliced potatoes in a single layer. Microwave for 5-7 min (5 if you peeled, and 7 if you sliced). You now have unbelievable crispy-brown potato chips. You do not need to oil the dish again tonight! Really.

The only drawback is that by the time (or before!) you make the next batch, the first one is gone. So you may not be able to feed an army peacefully. That’s all.

Now for that north Indian Kofta Curry. I made the koftas some time back, so the proportions are not exact, but those of you who have done some ’steaming’ should be able to manage quite well. Not the stuff for beginners, I’m afraid. I was using frozen ones today. These freeze well. I always make more than I need and freeze half of them.

Steamed Ghia Koftas
(all ingredients are approximate)

Peeled, grated ghia (bottle gourd)
1 1/2 C besan (chickpea flour)
1/2 C sooji (semolina)
garlic paste and grated ginger (to taste, optional)
1/2 t turmeric
2 t oil
salt
3/4 t baking soda

Bring water to boil in a pressure cooker or steamer. Mix all ingredients and pour into oiled pans for steaming. I use my steel pans that fit into each other. Steam (no pressure) for 25-30 min or till a toothpick comes out clean. Let cool. Remove and cut into cubes.

Jasmine Ball Tea

 

tea shop in HK

If conversations and tea go together then this is the grandmother of all teas. It can become the topic.

It has become fashionable to drink Chinese green tea here in India. Almost to the point of having snob value. But I like to drink it for its lightness (this may not be the ‘fashionable’ word). I realised that drinking lots of chai in the winter days was good up to a point. Too many cups and I would not be feeling very good. Tea is diuretic so, actually makes your body hungry for water. Not quite the thirst quencher. As it is, I drink way too little water in the winter.

Chinese tea was the perfect answer. No sugar, no milk. Just a fragrant warm brew, to rehydrate and refresh. I think that a hot cup-that-cheers in the hand makes me appreciate the Delhi winters that much more.

tea-tasting session, and the tea I bought

On a visit to HK last year I visited this quaint tea shop full of beautiful tea accessories and of course, varieties of tea. The tiny attendant spent the lunch hour with me explaining the process of brewing the tea and patiently served me a good many cups. While there were the usual floral jasmine and peony green teas, the one that was really exotic was this Jasmine ball tea.

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.

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)

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.

Psyco-analysis and A Potato Curry

And so the vegetable drought continues…since pumpkin and taro root don’t count for my son. The rest of the family ate those while he got his meat dish. Since my mother makes it better, I’ll post the delicious matsch (spicy meatballs in gravy) recipe from Kashmir, once she cooks it under my all-seeing eyes.

We have this joke about my mother not telling us the entire recipe; she tends to leave out an innocuous ingredient and we keep wondering why our version can never match hers. Sometimes it is the magic in her hands, at other times…

Anyway, there is this simple potato curry that she would make which was a family favourite. But every time I would try to recreate it in my kitchen (after I got married and had to cook regular food instead of the fancy-shmancy cakes and stuff) it would never come out the same. Where I had potato pieces in watery gravy, hers would be these crumbly potato chunks in a creamy tomatoey gravy. I tried all tricks, sauté-ing the potatoes longer, letting them cook partially before adding the tomatoes, and much else. Always using a pressure cooker like her. It would come out delicious and was much appreciated by the ILs but the husband knew…it was not quite there.

The Time Has Come…for Potatoes

The time has come, the Walrus said,
to talk of many things,
of ships and shoes and sealing wax,
of cabbages and kings…
and so I start my blog with lines from my all-time favourite book, Alice in Wonderland. About food, as a point of beginning, but hoping that it will take a life of its own and occasionally stray into other things.

I have been in the kitchen a lot this past week, baking and everything. Most of the recipes have been new-found ones from favourite blogs. But cookies cannot a lunch make. Usually. With the monsoon season in fullish swing, ’tis the season for limited choices, unless you don’t have teens in the family, and everybody agrees that gourds are heaven-sent.

Sookhe Aloo

So it fell on the ubiquitous aloo to deliver. That is one vegetable that even the most reluctant cook can do well, and in a jiffy. And in this hot and humid weather, you want to be in and out of the kitchen fast.

And this dish transports me to Pooh, a remote area in the Himachal mountains, where we visited my cousins when my son was not quite one year old. The dish had one spice that I had never before used with potatoes, and it totally transforms them. I don’t really know to which region the dish belongs because it was a masala given to my aunt by a friend in their Border Roads community that has people from all over the country…but she knew the ingredient that made it different.