Every chance I get, I use. After locating my ride at Vadodara the first question I put to him was where I could get some good ’snacky’ Gujju breakfast! He knew just the place. We went to Payal Farsan Mart from where I got packed a bite of quite a few things - very like the proverbial kid in the toy store I was. Masala dhokla, a redder version of the above, was not even my favourite! That would have to be the crispy methi na gota: deep fried spiced besan + whole wheat flour batter with just the hint of bitterness from methi leaves. How they get the gota to be spongy-soft has got to be a skill, for I saw no holey signs of baking soda. There was khandvi which I had to try, naturally (mine’s better ). Pattis - a different kind this time. These were stuffed with a mixture of grated fresh coconut, ground peanuts, coriander, and sesame, with the thinnest outer layer of cooked mashed potatoes. These are much in demand by ladies who are observing a fast, all ingredients being kosher - permitted as fasting foods! I also tried their house-special makai ni bakarwadi - which was a very delicious version of the common bakarwadi. A very rewarding breakfast; absolutely worth the wait.

Everything was packed charmingly - wrapped first in a square of grease proof paper, then in newspaper (pink coloured Gujarati newspaper!), and tied with string. Weren’t we just talking about newsprint as wrapping paper?

I highly recommend a visit to Payal if you are in Vadodara. No pictures of the delicious food, I’m afraid. I was hesitant to whip out the camera and shock the man; I was supposed to be there for work. Serious work. Like streambank stabilization. I would be telling engineers and contractors at the site a thing or two. I would also face my first public participation meeting before the gramsabha later that day.

Undhiyu, baingan bhartu, simla mirch, lasuni palak with bajra na rotla (with jaggery and ghee, of course!) and buttermilk.

After a lousy lunch I refused to eat dinner in the hotel’s restaurant that, for whatever insane reason, does not serve Gujarati food. They, naturally, serve Mughlai and Chinese. After drinks (yeah yeah, it’s a dry state), we all went to Tapi (I think that was the name of the dhaba) for a taste of food from Saurashtra. They have an AC section! The food was okay, but the company and the rotlas were first rate.

While Payal was closed next morning, I found Surti, near the airport, that had barely opened its shutters. There was some time before the pattis, gotas, and other fried items would start coming out of their hot karahis. They only had dhokla ready which I gladly got a parcel of (very greasy though). I grabbed some thepla with pickle, and bakarwadi to bring home a taste of Gujarat.

Payal Farsan Mart
2 B N Chamber
R C Dutt Road
Opposite Welcome Hotel
Alkapuri, Vadodara 390005

Modern Western medicine has changed our lives with its clinical approach to diagnosis and treatment of disease. Along the way it became the mainstream approach with older systems getting the tag of alternative medicine. Of course, there are reasons to encourage and protect this mindset.

Practitioners of Western medicine, while finally admitting to the efficacy of meditation and yoga in keeping ailments such as hypertension (and many others) in check, find it difficult to explain how with their empirical scientific methods. Yoga, or homoeopathy also have no negative side-effects. Unlike much of modern medicine. (And you must check out this definition for homoeopathy! Seriously!)

Naturally, the winners of the no-side-effects approach are patients - not drug companies, not insurance companies. Patients find it hard to finance such ‘alternative’ treatments in the current arrangement between medical practice-drug companies-insurance agencies.

Bri, a fellow food blogger, would like to do just that - explore other “alternative treatments” to fight breast cancer. She has been looking at various options in addition to chemotherapy. Her health insurance, unfortunately, does not cover holistic alternatives which she would like to try. She is going through intensive chemo and other treatments and needs to focus single-mindedly on healing and finding what treatment works best for her.

Jugalbandi, with the June edition of Click, has organised a fundraiser to help Bri finance one year of such treatment that is not covered by her insurance. The theme for the month is Yellow, a colour that has come to be associated with the fight for cancer.

The deadline for participating in Click is June 30, while the fundraiser will continue till July 15, 2008. Details on how to participate and contribute here.

The beautiful flower at the top is Calendula, a popular annual in our winter gardens here. Of course, it is edible! You can use the petals in soups, scrambled egg, or make your own healing balm! And it is my entry for this special edition of Click!

Update, June 16: Flowers, even edible ones, were inadmissible!  The Khandvi picture at the bottom is the Click entry!

Some more yellow for you.

(You want to know how to make this delicious nutritious almost-fat-free snack? Here’s the recipe! )

Most of us get addicted to reading blogs before we get one of our own. I wandered into the food blog world one fine day looking for some variety in my daily cooking. Nothing fancy, just everyday cooking that would show new ways with the same old ingredients.

Here are a few that have been added to our list of family favourites, and have been cooked more than once in my kitchen. Tried and tested…

1. Get your morning off to a good start with these scrumptious Pumpkin Cheddar Muffins from Manisha - (Indian Food Rocks)
2. Pel’s (Elaichi et Cetera) scintillating Thai soup Kaeng Thom Yam, and Nam Prik Pao, the secret paste behind it.
3. Bee and Jai’s (Jugalbandi) Kootu podi (spice mix for vegetables cooked with dal) from Southern India.
4. Bhinda ni Kadhi - Gujarati okra kadhi (Spice Cafe).
5. Bisi bele hulianna, a rice dish that was the essence of Karnataka cuisine to me (still is!) from Saakshi (Healthy Home Cooking), a serving of which can give you upwards of 20 varieties of food in one dish (including spices, of course)!

Check them out, if you haven’t already! Happy eating, and repeating!

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.

Much of the Indian crop of sour mangoes ends up as pickle. Mangoes preferred for pickle making are not the same as those that are ripened for the sweet fruit. From a bunch of hundreds of flowers that bloom in an inflorescence, only one or two ripen into a mature fruit. Some of the unripe fruit that drops to the ground is good for a quick pickle to tide over till the prized Ramkela arrives in late-June. My mum sent over some of the fallen fruit from her trees and I made it into a pickle (much like this) which was promptly devoured. With the really tiny ones I was hoping to make South Indian-style mavadu pickle but didn’t get around to it and the baby mangoes shrunk without the brine .

It is believed that the best time for pickling mangoes is after the first monsoon rains are past. The monsoon arrives first at the Kerala coast, and takes a while to reach Delhi. So while those of you in peninsular India are getting ready to fill up your stoneware jars, I will be doing this annual ritual only in early July (pictures are from last year) - if the monsoons are on time. The stormy weather all through this week and last, here in Delhi, has made it seem a little bit like the monsoons though.

Sour mangoes make for great mint and coriander chutneys in the summer. With the following tip you can have sour mangoes year round to make your favourite chutneys!

For the Maharashtrian style pickle, sour mangoes are chopped into small dice. The portion with the stone has flesh that can only be removed in slivers and is unsuitable for pickling (it will soften too quick). It used to be my father-in-law’s job to scrape all the flesh off the stone of the 5 kilos of mangoes that were pickled every year. Preserved in salt these slivers would provide us with sour mango for chutneys all through the year.

The first time I tried to make this preserve I did not salt the mangoes enough, and it spoiled even under refrigeration. The trick is to put enough salt, and then some. And then some more. You cannot over-salt this. When made into chutney the mango pieces have all the salt you will need! I finished the last of my preserved mango last month coinciding with the arrival of fresh sour mangoes in the market. This time I had got my salting right and did not even need to use precious refrigerator space; the jar of salted mangoes shared shelf space amicably with all the other pickles in my kitchen cupboard.

To preserve sour mangoes layer sliced mango with salt (add handfuls of salt after every one-inch layer of mango) and fill the jar to the top. Top with more salt. Use in place of fresh sour mangoes; remember to reduce or omit salt from the recipe.

All of my salted mango preserve ends up in chutney such as this coriander-coconut chutney. Here is the recipe for another favourite chutney that is the perfect dip for pakoras and kababs.

Pudiney ki Chutney
(Mint Chutney)

2 small bunches fresh mint (enough leaves to fill a 4 quart mixing bowl), rinsed
fresh coriander (cilantro), half the amount of mint leaves
1 medium onion, quartered
10 hot green chillies (or to taste)
1 t cumin seeds
1 medium sour mango, peeled and slivered
salt

In the jar of your grinder add the onion at the bottom, then mango, and then the rest of the ingredients. Layering like this will release enough liquid quickly so that no water is needed for the chutney. Grind to a paste.
Variation: Use tomato in place of sour mango for an equally delicious chutney.

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.

Ever since then, I have been meaning to blog about his aloo paranthas. On occasion, I have heard what sounded like a complaint - how come it never made it to these pages. This post has been on the cards for almost a year now. Here they are, finally, TH’s special - absolutely the bestest-overstuffed-aloo-paranthas. They are #1 on Ani’s list of favourite foods.

Aloo paranthas come in many avtars. The best ones are the home-cooked kind. Every family has their own twist to the spicing of the potato stuffing. There is tandoori aloo parantha which is baked in a fiery hot tandoor, and smeared with butter or ghee; giant versions of these are available at Giani’s, near Fatehpuri Mosque (Old Delhi). One of these can feed two people of us. The Amritsari kulcha, a double layered tandoori bread, is also a potato-stuffed parantha. Spiced mashed potatoes are wrapped in leavened dough which then gets another layer of a butter-rich dough that gives it its characteristic flaky texture.

In my mum’s house we used to mix chopped onion, coriander powder, anardana (dried wild pomegranate seed), fresh ginger, fresh coriander, and green chillies into the mashed potatoes. TH’s family had a different take, and one that has grown on me. It is a much simpler mix and an excellent stuffing for paranthas. I stuff much more potato mixture into my paranthas than is usual, and TH manages to stuff his with even more! That is the reason his are the best; aloo paranthas are first about potato, right? Here is how he does it (pay special attention to the folding of the dough around the stuffing):

Aloo Pranthas
(Potato-Stuffed Paranthas)

the stuffing
6 large potatoes
1 C chopped fresh coriander/cilantro
garlic, mashed to a pulp (to taste)
handful of hot green chillies
salt

for the dough:
3 C whole wheat flour
salt (or not)
a tablespoon of oil (or not)
water to knead

Boil, peel and mash the potatoes well. Pound green chillies with a pinch of salt till pulpy. Mix together all the ingredients for the stuffing.

Mix flour and water (with salt and oil, if using) and knead for 5 minutes to form a medium soft dough. Let rest for 10 minutes. Knead again till smooth. Pinch off balls roughly 1″ in size. Flour or oil your hands to roll dough into a ball. Dust with flour, flatten, and roll into a 3.5-4″ disc. Place stuffing, twice the size of the ball of dough you used (beginners should halve the stuffing!). Fold over, pinch edges together, and reshape into a ball [this is TH's method for over-stuffed paranthas; I gather the dough much like for a dim-sum or modak, and pinch off excess dough from the top]. Flatten and roll out, as thin as possible, dusting with flour to help you along. Rotate as you roll to get an even thickness.

With practice you will be able to roll them in such a way that there is a thin layer of dough holding a generous amount of stuffing without tearing through. It is important that the dough be soft so that it can roll out along with the potato stuffing. If you are using refrigerated dough, make sure it has come to room temperature (and softened) before rolling out the paranthas; otherwise the softer potato will yield more to your pressure and tear out. Also, make sure your potato stuffing has cooled sufficiently before you proceed with preparing the paranthas. This recipe is specially for my Madrasi friend (she lives in Madras, people; therefore, Madrasi!) who has been waiting, hoping paranthas are easier to roll than roti!

Heat a tava, cast iron or non-stick pan. Brush off excess flour from the surface of the paranthas. Flop them on to the hot tava using your outspread hand for support. Cook on medium-hot on one side only till the colour changes and the parantha has just firmed up enough to be flipped over. Apply 1/2-1 teaspoon of oil evenly on the surface, using the back of the teaspoon to brush it all over. A larger slotted spoon does this job faster if you are using less oil. Flip. Oil the other side of the parantha (and watch it puff up!); flip and cook till golden. The more oil you use the crisper the parantha is going to be. Serve hot with a bowl of plain yoghurt and mango pickle. If your fitness permits, serve with a dollop of butter.

Stuffed paranthas are best served hot, which is why it was nice to be the first one to be served for a change! If you are planning to serve them to an army, and want to make them in advance, do what I do. Half-cook the paranthas - they should barely get some spots on both sides - and cool before stacking. Shallow fry just before serving. This makes for faster service and everyone still gets them hot off the tava without a long wait. Once you get the hang of rolling, you’ll find that the frying takes longer, and you can actually have two frying pans going! Of all stuffed paranthas these are the easiest to make because potatoes make a cohesive stuffing that is easy to roll out, unlike mooli (daikon radish) or cauliflower which make moist stuffings that tear through the surface of the parantha. Those are family favourites too, and the recipes will follow when they will :D.

These paranthas are perfect for sending over to Srivalli’s roti mela! With this special family recipe, I am back!

I was gushing about the April Fool’s Blog Swap to my schoolfriend. She was not very impressed and instead she drove the conversation in another direction:

So you meet these people on the Internet and they become your friends?
Um, yeah. Well, some of them even become very good friends…
How do you know if the woman isn’t really a neurotic man or a psychotic killer? And when you do meet him, he stabs you in the back!

Gulp! I sent a very sharp knife to Anita recently and was angling to be adopted. What was I thinking?

So my post began when I started writing it almost two weeks ago…

Life has served a few surprises since then and I have been at a total loss - numbed into inaction and unable to digest the news. It’s the big C. One of my closest friends has been diagnosed with a malignant brain tumor and unfortunately the prognosis is rather bleak. While she snapped into action, writing list after list of things that needed to done; I switched off and slept. As did this post - until we met to celebrate her and her life. We laughed, we hugged, we cried and we laughed some more – each of us hoping for a miracle. The mood switched from very sombre to reflective and appreciative of what we do have at this very moment - and fortunately for all of us, that is the mood that persists.

So, pour yourself a cup of tea as I dedicate this post to my friend Francie and do my best to hand this blog back to its soul. Tea is an important ingredient for a party on this mad blog, right?

It’s been a stormy spring in Colorado with the weather swinging between tee-shirt-and-shorts weather to winter coats every other day. Just last week we went from a bright, sunny and windy 82F to cold and snowy 32F in less than 24 hours. And while some of you might recoil in horror, this is typical spring weather for us. March is the snowiest month for the mountains, followed by April. And we don’t complain when some of that white goodness brings moisture to us in the semi-arid foothills. It’s very normal for us to fire up our grills and have a barbecue on the patio one evening, and then huddle over a warm soup or stew the next evening as we watch the white come down. April also happens to be a celebratory month for my family and I. It’s a time when we bring out the family album and rib Medha for not being invited to a small but special party, our wedding. It is also the month that I really got my food blog going. My other food blog, that is. And each year, we celebrate by having a special home-cooked meal.

This year, Gujarati kadhi was on the most-wanted list. Especially since I have been able to reverse engineer to perfection the kadhi that Vimlaben brought with her straight from Nadiad to Hoboken. Over a decade and a half ago , when my sister first told me she had a ‘housekeeper’, I did not know what to expect. There she was, a diminutive lady dressed in a sari with sock-clad feet and a voice that bounced off the walls and made them reverberate. We warmed up to her immediately and she reciprocated with simple yet very satiating meals. Vimlaben had her quirks - very little hing and next to no turmeric powder but lots of ginger and a truckload of garlic, whenever she could get away with it.

Our anniversary dinner was an ode to many. Gujarati kadhi for Vimlaben, vangi bhath because we like to take a dip every now and then, kaachi-paaki for my sister’s mother-in-law who has had a great influence on my cooking, and lime pickle to remind us of the goodness of the sun. All vegetarian to honor my friend Francie. And, all yellow! Naturally, the drink of choice was a light beer. Medha had orange juice.

Vimlaben ni Gujarati Kadhi

• 2-3 tsp oil
• 2 cups low-fat or fat-free yogurt, slightly sour
• 2 tbsp besan or gram flour
• 4-5 cups water
• 1/2 tsp mustard seeds
• pinch asafetida, or not
• 1/4 tsp cumin seeds
• 1-2 hot green chilli peppers, sliced into two vertically
• 8-10 fresh curry leaves
• 6 cloves
• 1/8 tsp turmeric powder, or not
• 1 tbsp grated ginger
• 1.5 tbsp sugar (use about 1tbsp Indian sugar, since it is sweeter)
• 6-7 sprigs of cilantro, chopped fine
• salt to taste

1. Whisk the yogurt with besan until there are no lumps. If you see any lumps, break them with your fingers and whisk some more.
2. Heat the oil in a large saucepan and toss in mustard seeds.
3. When they crackle and pop, add asafetida, followed by cumin seeds, green chillies, curry leaves, and cloves. Ensure that the spices do not burn.
4. Add turmeric powder and then add the yogurt and besan mixture.
5. Turn the heat to medium and stir the mixture briskly for a couple of minutes until it thickens ever so slightly. You will feel the change in consistency as you continue to stir.
6. Only then add water slowly to the mixture, while stirring and mixing continuously.
7. Fish for the green chillies and discard them. Their job is done.
8. Add grated ginger and sugar.
9. Bring to a boil at least 3-4 times. Each time the kadhi threatens to boil over, reduce the heat and simmer for a few minutes and boil again. If you have the time, allow it to simmer for as long as possible instead of bringing it to a brisk boil each time. If you do simmer it for a long time, be sure to adjust the amount of water (and salt) to bring it to a pouring consistency that is not too thick.
10. This kadhi goes from the stove to the table. So just a few minutes before serving, add the chopped cilantro and continue to simmer until you are ready to take it to the table.

Cloves add a wonderful dimension to this Nadiadi kadhi. The flavor hits you in the back of your throat and it leaves you wanting more and more of the same. What I also like about this kadhi is that it is not overly sweet and the sugar actually complements this flavor, instead of competing with it. It can be served with plain steamed rice, too. Or a vegetable pulao.

Notes:

• Most seasoned cooks add water to the yogurt mixture before heating it. I prefer to heat the yogurt+besan mixture until it thickens and only then add water slowly to the mixture. It serves two purposes: the yogurt never curdles and the besan cooks quickly, avoiding what is often called the “raw smell” of besan.
• You could keep the green chillies but we prefer the flavor of green chillies and the heat of the cloves rather than have the heat of the green chillies compete with the cloves.
• You could omit the sugar but then this would not be Gujarati kadhi anymore. And it certainly would not be Vimlaben ni kadhi.

I am sending this yellow meal to Barbara for LiveSTRONG With A Taste Of Yellow 2008.

It’s been a fun month and a great party! We did manage to trick folks well into April even though most of you didn’t really buy the blog swap. But seriously, have you come across a better April Fool’s trick? Anita and I could not have pulled this off if we did not share a very interesting friendship, separated as we are by several thousand miles and having never met. No! Ours is not an internet romance and we don’t want to marry each other. But there is a connection - a bond - that is difficult to put into words.

I have very few close friends, making each one very dear to me. And I have even fewer of the kind who will tell me that I need to use a tissue on my nose or pull out that pesky chin hair. Anita is like that. She gives me her opinion, no holds barred. Sometimes when I don’t want to hear it, too. So knife or no knife, I would not trade our relationship, online or not, for anything in the world.

So with a toast to those gems that make our lives colorful and special, I hand this blog back to its rightful owner. It’s a Mad Tea Party again!

She will be back soon, people! Pictures of fields in your browser coming up …

I mean really. Aren’t you tired of brown? And pictures of desks? It’s time for a makeover. It’s time for fun. It’s high time for the real Mad Tea Party to begin. I asked Anita to please take a walk so that I can set things right around here. Once I get done with this post, I am going to change the template to something far more cheery than brown. Let’s bring in the color!

And we will also free ourselves of this persistent British anarchy over the English language and lose the ‘u’ between ‘o’ and ‘r’. Forever. We will do the needful, and at the same time we will also arrest the overt usage of the present continuous tense so that American English can continue to prevail as the language of Indian food blogs.

We will have pictures! Lots and lots of pictures. Fields do get boring after a while. But it is spring, after all; time for a new lease on life…for this blog.

So let’s do it!

Um, get it? Let’s Rock & Roll?

A Mad Tea Party is where I will be blogging from now on. If you’re looking for her, she’s over there now. This is the last time I will clarify and re-clarify things. You really are going to need to be sharp from here on. And with that…

Let the Party Begin.

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!

Ragi Idlies
Makes 40 medium sized idlies

1 C idli rice (or other white parboiled rice)
3/4 C skinned urad dal
1/2 t methi (fenugreek) seeds
1 C ragi (finger millet) flour
salt

Pick over and rinse rice and urad dal a couple of times. Add methi seeds to urad dal. Cover with over an inch of water and soak (separately) for 5-6 hours. First grind the dal and methi mix, adding water as required, till smooth and fluffy. Grind the soaked rice but keep it coarse and gritty. Combine the two batters and mix in ragi flour. Add just enough water to obtain a very thick pouring consistency. Cover and keep in a draft-free place to ferment overnight (the batter should double in volume). (In Delhi’s summer, I suspect, the batter might ferment under refrigeration too !)

Oil the idli stand (or whatever you want to use for steaming). Stir the batter a couple of times and pour into the moulds. Steam for fifteen minutes. Serve with sambar and chutney, or gunpowder. I was out of gunpowder this morning (shame on me!), else this could really have been a 15 minute breakfast deal.

Incidentally, the topmost post on this blog is Rava Idli, which always crawls back up to the top five every weekend! Tells you a lot about Indians and our penchant for quick home-made breakfasts!

Eat healthy…I’ll be back…soon!

Here are some links for what to serve the idlies with:
One-pot sambar
Gunpowder

[The first sentence of this post was inspired by Today I am mostly... a delightful blog that I stumbled across some time back.]

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.

What is beloved to rural Punjab in winter months is sarson da saag, gently simmered over the low heat provided by cow chips burning in an angithi or chullah. I know some neighbours who dig out their angithis (coal or wood burning portable stoves) every year just so they can cook mustard greens like the saag of their childhood! It does not find much favour with my oogra-vaadi , allergic-to-brassica-tastes family, but how can I not cook this most delicious of greens, after which the whole family of gloriously oogra (the Marathi word for strong-tasting, in a disagreeable sense) greens and vegetables, chock-full of antioxidants, is named!

Indian mustard greens have stems with tough skins, which, along with the leaves, must be chopped very fine, and steamed till tender. Milder tasting spinach is added to the mustard greens to reduce bitterness. My mother would sometimes add radish greens, bits of radish, even turnips. They all mellow the pungency of mustard.

Once tender, it is mashed, the implement of choice here being the madaani or ravi (similar to this), and simmered some more after adding makki ka atta (corn flour) till it becomes thick and creamy. Just before serving, it is mixed with a tadka of ginger, onions, and tomatoes, and slit green chillies in ghee. Served with makki ki roti, it embodies the sunny winters of the Northern Plains.

Locally, corn flour is available only in the winter months. Rotis made with the flour of freshly harvested yellow corn are delicious. A dollop of unsalted white butter is mandatory on the roti; a half dollop doesn’t hurt in the saag as well. There’s a time for a low-fat diet, and winter is not that.

Sarson ka Saag
Mustard Greens
(serves 4)

750 gms (1 ½ lb) mature mustard greens
250 gms (½ lb) spinach greens
1/3 C makki ka atta* (not cornstarch) or cornmeal
2 T unsalted butter or ghee
2 T grated ginger
1 C chopped onion
1 C chopped tomatoes
slit green chillies
salt
additional butter or ghee for serving (optional but recommended)

Wash the greens, including the tougher stems, and chop very fine. Pressure cook with a little water till tender. Alternately, cook covered over gentle heat till tender. Mash with a madaani or a wooden roller, or use a handheld blender, taking care to not make a fine puree. Put it back on the stove to simmer. Stir in corn flour and cook till creamy.

Traditionally, saag is prepared in large quantities to be consumed over a few days. The tadka is added only to the portion that is being served. I find it stays well for a couple of days even if you add the tadka to the entire quantity.

For preparing the tadka, heat butter or ghee in a pan or karahi. Add ginger, followed by chopped onions, and cook till the onions are transparent. Add the tomatoes and cook, stirring constantly over medium heat, till the tomatoes are mushy and the fat has risen to the surface. Add slit green chillies and stir. Add the cooked greens and salt, and simmer for 10-15 minutes. Serve hot with makki ki roti. Corn tortillas should be a reasonably good substitute for the corn rotis.

Maaki ki Roti
Corn Roti

3 C makki ka atta (or fine cornmeal)
salt
grated mooli (radish), 1 C or so (optional)
very hot water

Take all the ingredients in a bowl and add hot water. Mix with a wooden spoon. Keep covered till it is cool enough to be kneaded by hand. Knead for a few minutes. Hot water helps obtain a softer dough that doesn’t fray at the edges when rolled. Divide into 8-10 portions. Roll out, one at a time, into 1/8 inch thick circles 5-6 inch diameter and . Pressed between the palms to perfection by expert cooks, I roll mine between two layers of plastic (this slit Ziplock freezer-bag has been serving me well for over 10 years!]. Cook on medium heat on a tava or cast iron griddle, with or without a brushing of oil, ghee, or butter. I rarely use ghee for frying since it makes too much smoke; peanut oil is my preferred fat here.

Serve hot, topped with butter, with sarson ka saag. The fresh and sweet taste of corn makes these rotis special. I savour them on their own, but they are great with saag.

Corn is in the winter air:

Jugalbandi’s Broccoli-Corn Dhokla
Anna Parabrahma’s healthy Corn Bhel
Evolving Tastes’ Polenta Kheer
A Mingling of Tastes with Pear Cornmeal Upside-Down Cake
The Singing Chef’s colourful Cornmeal Vegetable Salad

* makki ka atta is the flour of Indian yellow corn. It is ground much finer than the commonly found cornmeal (in the US). Use the finest cornmeal you can find for this roti. Mix corn flour/meal with equal part whole wheat atta if you like smooth-edged thinner rotis that puff up.

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!

In North India radish pods are known as moongre. They are crunchy with a strong radish taste. They come in varying length - while the long ones have obviously been bred for easy handling (they are sold in bundles) I find their long tails quite fibrous and the pods themselves less flavourful. I favour the shorter kind (2-5 inches in length) that can be found piled for sale in the street-side vegetable markets.

You can eat moongre raw or cooked. As a kid I have munched on many in my Dad’s kitchen garden. He loves sharp flavours and used to make a chutney by pounding these with some green chillies, and mixing in salt and yoghurt. Radish pods are also great in salads and stir fries.

While I love their texture and flavour, I cannot guarantee you will. Just as for cabbage and radish, there will always be two camps for this too. As usual, I am in a camp of one in my family. Yet I love it enough to make it a few times every year; the other camp has agreed to endure it those few times. For them, I put in an additional potato.

You can make this with the everyday zeera (cumin) -hing-haldi-mirch tadka. But this present version is based on my recollection of what was served to us many years ago at Indore. My friend Prati and I were there for some work and were staying with her sister’s family. Her sister’s mother-in-law, who is originally from Rajasthan, cooked this dish with lots of garlic, which is favoured in much of that State. The chilli quotient was also significant. I have always cooked moongre like this ever since.

Moongre ki Subzi
(Radish pods)
Serves 4

250 gms fresh radish pods
1-2 potatoes
1 T grated ginger
5 garlic cloves, crushed
2 tomatoes, chopped
1-2 T oil
1 t cumin seeds
pinch of hing
1/2 t turmeric
1 1/2 t coriander powder
1 t red (cayenne) chilli powder
salt
coriander leaves (cilantro) for garnish

Rinse the radish pods. Top and tail them. Snap into 1-1 1/2″ lengths. Peel and cube the potatoes.

Heat oil in a heavy bottomed pan. Add the cumin seeds followed by hing, then garlic and ginger. Once the garlic is fragrant add the chopped tomatoes. Stir and cook till the tomatoes turn to mush and the oil begins to surface. Add a pinch of salt if the mush starts to stick to the bottom of the pan. Add turmeric, coriander powder, and red chilli powder, in that order. Give a stir and let fry for a few seconds till the spices are cooked, taking care to not let the chillies burn. Add the prepared vegetables. Sprinkle salt and mix. Cover and cook till potatoes are tender, about 20 minutes.

Moongre aur aloo ki subzi, nani-wali dal, Pachranga mango pickle, and roti

I like to cook till there is still a slight crunch to the radish pods. It is hard to overcook them, but keep an eye nevertheless. Serve with roti, dal, dahi, and any North Indian pickle.

Some gardening history (with recipes) of this humble vegetable.