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…

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.

Paneer Tikka Parties, and other things

My entry for Click Feb: Cheese!

It has been a very busy time for me on the personal front this time. First my sister was visiting from CT, and now I have a friend visiting from Chennai. From Monday will start the stress of the XII Boards for the son. But it hasn’t kept us from having a jolly good time. The kitchen has been buzzing with activity.

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 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.

Sarson ka Saag aur Makki ki Roti

Spring is upon us! Temperatures are climbing steadily – we are already at 27 degrees C. But a nip still lingers at night and in the mornings. Therefore, the mustard family gets to reign for a few more weeks. I have mentioned mustard fields and I have talked about Punjab…but I haven’t yet talked about their favorite winter greens preparation.

About Saag – sarson da saag (Punjabi) or mustard greens. When I first started reading food blogs a couple of years back, I was impressed by the familiarity of the Western world (the US-based blogs, in any case) with ‘saag’ which is the Punjabi word for greens in general. Just like Kashmiris refer to one specific kind of green when we say haak, saag too refers to sarson or mustard greens, unless specified otherwise – palak ka saag (spinach greens), bathuey ka saag, so on and so forth. Punjab has never heard of saag-paneer. The saag-paneer combination intrigued me till I discovered it was the American avatar of good old palak-paneer, which, I am told (by none other than our own desikudi, Musical) is not that traditional in rural Punjab.

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!

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.

Punjabi Garam Masala

Garam masala is among my oldest cherished spice blends, and I am proud to say that I have never bought it packaged. It is so easy to put together that you needn’t. The home made kind is more potent as it has none of the cheap spices that bulk-up commercial blends. A small amount goes a long way.

First things first. All Punjabi food does not use garam masala. If you don’t believe me, ask Punju Girl. Garam masala does not Punjabi cuisine make. Despite the fact that I love this spice blend and cook Punjabi food almost every other day, I use garam masala only occasionally, and sparingly.

It’s Party Time!

The Party is not over yet! The previous two posts and the comments there have piqued my curiosity. And it’s getting the better of me.

While admitting that poori-bhaji is a national (if not yet international) favourite, I cook it infrequently in this seemingly health-conscious age. I am always reminded of it on the day of Ramnavmi, when I see neighbourhood kids (mainly girls – they are revered on this day only ) flitting from one house to the next and their growing piles of poori-halwa and chana.

I am getting the feeling that some of us may have deprived ourselves too long! So, I implore all of you to join in the party and make some poori-bhaji for a change. You could start with a longer walk in the morning or burn it off later in the evening as you go shopping this weekend or the next.

The rules are simple:

• Cook poori-bhaji this week (Aug 12-Aug 19), write a post about it (with or without a recipe ), how you enjoyed it, maybe a picture of the meal and/or the family enjoying the meal.
• Too hot to fry? Go out and get some! The portion will be right, and you don’t have to fry ‘nothing’! Write a post about it, and how you really enjoyed it!
• Link to this post (which will be updated next week to include my poori-bhaji. Of course, I have to make it again; these pics are from months ago!) You may, if you like, use a Pingback and it will automatically show up in the comments here. Or leave a comment here which will lead us to your post!
• Don’t have a blog? You can still join the party; just leave a comment here about how you enjoyed your poori-bhaji! Feel free to provide links to any pictures you may have posted on a photo-sharing site such as Flickr or Photobucket.

Never made poori-bhaji before but would like to join in the party? Here’s the simplest of recipes to get you started! There are suggestions for variations too.

If a health condition prevents you from enjoying these foods, we understand. Responsible cooking and eating comes first. Always.

It is also India’s Independence Day this week, on August 15. Another reason to celebrate! I hope all of you (Indians as well as those of other nationalities) will join in!

Update: Aug 15

Express Cooking: Meal #2 (Punjabi)

So, we were talking about Express Meals…

After that generic ‘Indian’ pulao, let’s get region specific. Tonight it is going to be Punjabi, a cuisine that is second nature to me since I have been surrounded by the sight, smell, and taste of this cuisine since childhood.

Very early on, my mother adopted roti-subzi as the ideal packed lunch for all of us. You can’t beat the convenience of a roti or parantha with a sookhi (dry) subzi, sometimes perked up with a little pickle, for school tiffin. No spills, no mess, and no spoons or forks needed.

Since my mother learnt roti-making from her Punjabi neighbours, her rotis were the thicker north Indian kind. Punjabis prefer the flour much coarser than do Maharashtrians and Gujaratis, who make very fine rotis. Punjabi roti is at least double that of the latter in weight. And that is how I made roti till I got married…

Punjabi Kadhi Pakode-wali

Punjab, the land of milk and butter, is also India’s wheat-bowl. Punjab has always been proud of its tall and strong puttars (sons). These brave sons (and daughters) of the soil have grown up on a diet rich with milk, butter, and other dairy products.

Punjab derives its name from its geography – punj: five (from Hindi/Sanskrit: panch – pronounced punch), and aab: Persian/Urdu for water – the land of the five rivers. The rivers Jehlum, Chenab, Ravi, Beas, and Sutlej used to flow through undivided Punjab. All these five rivers are the tributaries of the mighty Indus river, or river Sindhu, its Vedic name. It is from this river that Indians get their name: Sindhu → Hindu or Hindi (it didn’t stand for a religion, but for the people of Hind or Hindustan).

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.