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.

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.

I am exploring my new camera… and it’s taking frustratingly long to re-learn the ropes. I really wish I could just use my ancient NikonF4 and have the film change into a chip somehow… Someday someone will do something like that I am sure. Till then I have to get used to focusing by half pressing to ‘lock’ the focus… grrr.

On a dear friend’s advice I am trying to carry my camera wherever I go and shoot ‘from the hip’. A couple of days back we were visiting my parents. My dad is very fond of his drink and it is natural for TH to sit down with him for one. Or two. The spread of Sunday papers and magazines seemed to be the perfect backdrop and I suddenly felt inspired. So I took a few shots, reviewed them, moved a few things around (the almond dabba), and also managed to get one in focus (amidst all the impatient folk wishing to get to their drinks)!

Without much further ado, it is going to the Click event: Liquid Comfort! And by the next Click deadline, I should have really figured out my camera!

Camera: Panasonic DMC-FZ18
Exposure: 1/4 sec
Aperture: f/2.8

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.

In an effort to eat leaner still, I have been turning to soups. Here is one that I have had for lunch a number of times this month. The main ingredient in this soup is the wonderful quinoa, an ancient grain of south America. I loved the bite of the grain - similar to cooked cracked wheat but without the chewy texture. The first time I made this soup I wanted to reach out for a sprinkle of habanero peppers but then let myself enjoy the inherent goodness. But it is getting a generous sprinkle this time. What with all the talk about “a girl’s gotta have her chillies.”

The original recipe uses chicken stock, which I replace with plain water in all my recipes since I never have it. I almost added the fish stock when I made it again today, but sanity prevailed… (Anyone have a good recipe with fish stock? I do need to make room in my small freezer…for peas.) Generous amounts of browned onion provides plenty of flavour for me (and all you vegans out there).

Quinoa Soup
Based on Julie’s Quinoa Soup with Spinach and Corn
Serves 6

1 T olive oil
1 onion, chopped (about 3/4-1 C)
a few cloves of garlic, sliced thin
1 C Quinoa (use cracked wheat, if you don’t have access to this grain)
1 C pumpkin, small dice
1 C fresh (or frozen) sweet corn
2 C shredded fresh spinach
1 green pepper, small dice
salt and pepper
4-5 C water
2 t soy sauce
dash of ground habanero chilli (optional)

Heat oil in a heavy pan and add the chopped onion. Stir, season with salt and pepper, and brown on medium heat (about 8-10 minutes). Add the sliced garlic and stir another two minutes. Add the pumpkin (or any other squash of your choice), and stir for a minute. Add 3 cups of water (or chicken stock) and bring to boil. Add quinoa, bring to boil again. Simmer and cook covered for 15 minutes. Add corn and cook 5 minutes, adding more water. Now add the spinach in handfuls and cook a further 5 minutes. Add soy sauce and simmer a couple of minute to blend flavours. You can add more pepper, or any chilli powder of your choice, if you wish to spice it up a bit.

A very filling soup that comes together very quick. This week I added some bruised ginger root, the outer dark green leaves of a cabbage to the soup. Potatoes are also traditional in this soup. The addition of tejpatta or a bayleaf, would be good too even if less authentic. I got to taste this wonderful grain thanks to a (blog) friend! (Thank you! All you guys are so generous!) Here’s Manisha’s spicy version of quinoa.

That’s not all for tonight… A little bit about the pictures on this post from my recent visit to Attari village, near the Punjab-Lahore border. I was there for work, of course .

We arrived in Amritsar to a sunny day after a particularly cold spell. But it was rural Punjab where my project is. So on we went. The fields were verdant with paddy, and there were patches ablaze with mustard flowers. Bright yellow, that reminds us that spring is not far away, and that we’ll make it through the winter. We had some time on our hands the day we were headed back to Delhi, and chose to drive around the area. There is history all around. Punjab’s prosperity has meant that the locals in the hinterland have the money and the time to think about finer things such as cultural heritage. On way to the recently restored Sarai Amanat Khan, we caught a glimpse of colourful tile work on what looked like a ruined mosque. We got off the car and were escorted by a tall and handsome Sikh, through the brick-paved village streets, to the pretty mosque. Before we knew it, the village sarpanch (elected chief of the village) was in touch on our cellphone and inquiring about who to contact to initiate conservation measures!

There was a school in the village - nothing fancy, but right there within the village; children playing cricket (naturally); and buffaloes chewing cud lazily. I was happy for happy Punjab. Now all they need to remember is to grow more wheat (than rice) and watch that depleting water table (and the missing girls… but there were symbolic lohri celebrations for new-born girls in many parts of Punjab this year).

By the side of the mosque, we found this lady making popcorn by the basket loads. She had a dug-in straw-burning oven over which she was popping the corn in a wrought iron pan. The corn kernels are roasted in coarse sand (which helps distribute heat?) which is sieved out in the end. Don’t miss the Sikh gentleman hunk. Needless to add, the sight of city-folk taking pictures of popcorn making were mighty amusing to all, young and older. They could only smile in a humoring sort of way (when they really wanted to roll their eyes ). And I did it all for you, dear reader (especially those of you not from North India).

Making popcorn - the simple way! (Village Rajataal)

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.

So, my friends, I correctly identified the mystery powder as sambar powder. Now, all of you out there know how to make sambar. There is little point it talking about that (though, I make no promises that I never will). Surely there were other uses for this wonderful magical spice blend?

My own sambar powder is ground a bit coarse and I sometimes use it to make spicy eggplant stir fry. I used Srivalli’s in a mixed veggie stir fry which turned out very good. But I was too rushed to take pictures.

Then last week, I left planning lunch till it was too late. I decided to make quick rava dosa but was in no mood for the whole nine-yards of sambar (not even this one-pot sambar), chutney, and masala (spicy potatoes for stuffing the dosa with). Then, in a flash of brilliance (ahem), I decided to combine the three! And when you make my masala potatoes, you will agree.

Potatoes prepared for stuffing into dosa are usually not spicy at all. I modified my usual recipe just a tad, and had a completely different animal on my hands. How we loved it with the crispy rava dosas; no one missed the sambar or the chutney. These masala potatoes were the star of this lunch. They remind me quite a bit of Ashwini’s potato song, a perfect note to start off the New Year - with my favourite vegetable!

Masala Potatoes
(Spicy Potatoes)

5 medium potatoes
1 medium onion, chopped (about 3/4-1 C)
2 juicy desi (heirloom) tomatoes, chopped fine
2 curry leaves, leaflets separated from the stalk
1 green chilli, chopped
1 T oil
1 t mustard seeds
1/4 t hing
2-3 t sambar powder*
1 t byadgi (or medium hot) chilli powder*
salt

Scrub potatoes. Pressure cook with 2 cups of water for 10 min. Leave in the cooker till the pressure subsides. Cool, peel, and smash potatoes.

Heat oil in a karahi or heavy bottomed pan. Add mustard seeds to the hot oil and cover till the spluttering stops. Add hing, followed by green chillies, curry leaves, and onions. Stir till onions turn transparent. Now add the sambar powder and chilli powder and stir for half a minute. Add the tomatoes and cook for a couple of minutes till they soften. Indian desi tomatoes are juicy, tart and full of flavour; they also soften quickly. Mix in the smashed potatoes and salt. Cover and let cook for 5 min. Give a good stir and serve with dosa, roti, or stuff between slices of bread and grill.

* Adjust amount of chilli powder depending on how hot you want the final dish to be, and depending on how much fire there is in the sambar powder to begin with. When I use Udupi sambar powder, I use 3 t sambar powder and no chilli powder.

Thank you, Srivalli for making me part of the Arusuvai Chain, which was started at the Yum Blog by Latha. And I am sending a mystery ingredient to two other very talented Delhi bloggers: Reeta of Delhi Foodies’ Zone, and Deepshikha, a foodie and an artist. Watch out for your ’surprise’ ingredients in the mail!

Tags: low fat, potatoes, South Indian, sambar powder, vegetarian, under 30 min

I hope it has been a good year for all of you. If it’s been a mixed bag, as most years are, you’ll find yourself looking back at it with much nostalgia soon enough. The past has a way of turning rosy.

There was much that was good with this year for me too. Even though I slowed down in the frequency of my posts, it was always fun to discuss with you, dear reader. I have to admit that you are the best part of blogging! After each post, I eagerly await your response. Since I usually post in the night, checking the comments is the first thing I do next morning, with my morning cuppa by the side. For some of the posts there is as much information in the comments as there is in the post… even if occasionally the discussion gets off topic .

Thanks to this blog I have made new friends at an age I never thought it possible; friends with whom I have found much in common, and much to learn from. What did The Learned One say about surrounding yourself with smart people? …some of it will rub off on you. So true.

I am late for Nupur’s event: Best of 2007, but I do want to do the roundup… Come along, grab some hot chocolate (while it is still snowing here) like I did, let’s walk the year again together…

My ten favourite posts (and recipes) from 2007:

Food Glorious Food got us thinking about some of the foods we deny ourselves in an attempt to eat healthier. I was trying to work through the myths and realities of food habits for us in India and how they might be, adversely, getting impacted by research applicable primarily to the West. It somehow, eventually led to a poori frying festival! At that moment, I think the blog did take on a life of its own. I hope it was a welcome change of pace for all of us.

A Delhi Summer - on the Streets is amongst my absolutely favourite posts so far. It was also the longest in writing but, again, I enjoyed every bit of that. It is not easy to put the essence of a city like Delhi in one post; there were many false starts and much virtual paper made it to the virtual trash. I hope I managed to give you a little peek into the heart of Dilli.

With my trip to Bangalore-Belgaum, I continued to discover Indian cuisines further. Belgaum was as enchanting as North Karnataka food was delicious. I found new ingredients, teppal, kale vatane, and Byadgi mirchi amongst them, that I hope to use to create new favourites. The post touched a chord somewhere and made many of you wistful.

It is hard to pick favourite recipes. All the recipes featured on this blog are family favourites. What I will list are recipes have been added to the list this year.

All summer long, as long as the gavar season lasted, I cooked Spicy Nutty Cluster Beans once every week. The recipe was arrived at after much discussion over at Manisha’s when she sung praises of kanda-lasun masala again and again, which I had no access to. She helped deconstruct the masala, albeit over a couple of recipes.

Marag turned out to be another hit. It is not easy to sway my son from his Kashmiri leanings where meat is concerned (especially when compared to mutsch and rogan josh, he usually concludes anything else to have been a waste of the meat ), but he loved this preparation of soupy lamb. Thank you Nabeela, and Manisha for this new addition to our favourites.

Another regular at our table was Indira’s spinach-dal. At last I had a recipe very close to the dal that is always a part of the thali at Andhra Bhavan, which we patronize regularly. An easy quick recipe for a one pot combination of greens and lentils; all you need with it is steamed rice.

June is the month of birthdays at my house. For my son’s birthday I made the Lemon Chiffon Cake that was every bit as light as the name suggests. It was topped by a decadent chocolate fudge icing that was quick to put together. This definitely was my best cake ever and will be featuring at many more birthdays from now on.

Given the limitations of the flour types that can be found easily in India it can be a bit of a challenge to bake great bread that is also nutritious. I have been quite successful with my 50-50 combination of atta-maida (whole wheat roti flour-refined flour) with pizza and dinner rolls, but a whole wheat loaf that was also soft and light was elusive. Until I came across a recipe that had promise - and I made my amazing Whole Wheat Potato Bread. We all nodded approvingly. The bread was so soft I had to wait till next morning to slice it!

In September, I met a lot of family at my cousin’s Big Fat Kashmiri Wedding. I hope you enjoyed what was only the tip of the iceberg.

And if Manisha is talking about paaysam, I have to mention my Kheer in the best of 2007 for obvious reasons. It is the last word on Kheer, no? Besides, it does make up a third of all Kashmiri sweet dishes there are!

Thanks for coming to the Mad Tea Party and making it fun.

HAPPY NEW YEAR 2008!