Deep Fried Love: Batata Vada

If you have been seeing Batata Vadas appear in some of the food blogs you read and wondering what is up with that, here is what is at the root of it all - old fashioned indulgence.  A year ago, while discussing this and that on this blog, I and my readers decided a party was in order - an old fashioned yet not completely throw-caution-to-the-winds party.  Celebrating food without worrying about what went into it, or got left out; being intuitive instead of thoughtful.  It lead to a bunch of us frying poori last year, some for the first time!

This year we are experimenting with frying batata vadas, some of us for the first time!  The motive, again, has been to cook and share with friends and family, and remind ourselves that a little indulgence is a good thing.  And, of course, have some fun while we were frying!

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’.

My Continuing Discovery of Indian Cuisines

I mentioned earlier the likelihood of my having been a South Indian in previous life. I believe there are people who are offended by this title – South Indian. I know not why. I do understand though, the umbrage at everyone from Southern India being (once) called ‘Madrasi’ by self-centered North Indians. May I add that for my grandma’s generation all non-Kashmiris were Punjabi – likely the only other state they had heard of from their insular position. “So, you married a Punjabi,” she would say.

Southern India is not a homogeneous region; neither is Northern India nor, for that matter, the Eastern or the Western parts of our country. And, just as the cuisine and customs of the Northern plains have a lot in common, the people of Southern Peninsular India also share a long cultural heritage.

While I have established (some might say - followed my tummy to) the general region of my previous birth as Dravidian India, I have not yet been able to point to the exact spot. In my early teens I already knew that Andhra and Tamil food gave me as much comfort as did my mum’s cooking. I relished the everyday-kind dal-based vegetable preparations (which I may not know by their names) served with thick short grain rice; idli smeared with fiery milagai podi was as much ambrosia as was tayir saadam. I discovered Kerala cuisine a little later – in my twenties - though it was confined to the odd fish curry, thorans and pachadis, and the exotic (to me) appams with either avial or ishtu.

If you are in southern India be sure to wear some flowers in your hair…strung flowers sold by arm-lengths!

Axe Soup aka Bottle Gourd Peel Chutney

Kulhadi ka dalia is the Hindi translation of the Russian folktale Axe Soup that I read many summers ago. It is a version of Stonesoup, and a story that I find similar to this bottle gourd peel chutney.

You’ve all probably heard some version of the story in your childhood. In Stonesoup the message is more about the pleasure of sharing and the good that comes from cooperation. The Axe Soup carries a subtle lesson about human management - how to use the inherent greed in fellow humans, of wanting to get something out of nothing, to get out of others more than they are willing to give.

But little do we expect to ever come face to face with legends outside of books of tales.

Goda Masala

In my opinion nothing says Maharashtrian cuisine as does the Goda Masala, a spice blend so unique and complex that it cannot be replaced with any other combination of spices. Each family recipe may have enough differences that interchanging them makes a remarkable difference to the final dish.

I hardly delved deep into the masala that was used everyday in the house, being content in just learning to use it. I understood that it was a mix of many spices that were roasted and then ground. There were always large glass bottles filled with it that would get replenished annually when my mother-in-law returned from her visit to Pune.

She prepared it for the first time only a few years ago. It was her older sister in Pune who for years painstakingly prepared kilos of Goda Masala for her two younger sisters. My mother-in-law passed away a couple of years back but I still had the goda masala she prepared, for the first and last time, till a few months ago. The last half bottle I hoarded for special dishes only, using store-bought masala for other everyday needs.

Crispy Cabbage Pakoras

Everyone likes fried food. And all of us have our variations of batter-fried vegetables. Sometimes, even fruit. Sometime back, Melissa wrote in praise of pakoras on her blog. And I have been wanting to blog about these pakoras since.

I am not sure how many of you have made cabbage pakoras but these are amongst my favourite, second only to pyaaz bhajjies (onion pakoras).

Spicy Onion Rings at the K State Union cafeteria would hit the spot whenever I was homesick for pakoras, and definitely not in the mood for a sugar-kick. I have a very sweet tooth, but it was salt I really missed as a Grad student in the US. Giant muffins, mammoth cookies everywhere, but only fries to satiate the salt cravings. Like most Indians, I prefer a spicy savory snack with the mid-morning or evening cuppa. The sweet may follow; but first, the salt and the spice. It is to this hall of fame that the now well-known samosa also belongs.

Growing up, I never had cabbage in a pakora. My mum was quite innovative with the vegetables she batter fried – eggplant, tomatoes, cauliflower, spinach leaves, in additional to the usual suspects – potatoes and onions. And then one day I saw my MIL shred some cabbage leaves, throw them into the spiced besan batter along with a spoonful of sesame seeds and some left-over rice as well, to make the most delicious of pakoras. These would invariably accompany an elaborate traditional meal showcasing pooran-poli, the delicious stuffed sweet rotis, that are a Maharashtrian delicacy.