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As promised, the Buddha bowl series now goes international, after the comfortingly familiar South Indian Buddha bowl. This is a Mexican-influenced Buddha bowl, and I’m making sure that you notice that I emphasise the word influenced.  My family enjoys Mexican-style cuisine very much, and I always end up making the more popular dishes, such as tacos, salsa, nachos and even my vegan take on chili, which you may remember from awhile back (this is a vegan recipe too). But over the years, whenever Mexican friends have visited my home, as much as they relish the meals I put together for them, they also tease me by saying that my style is Indian-Mexican, not authentic. I’m proud of this though. To me, fusion cuisine is all about feeling inspired and bringing different worlds together.

I’ve only spent one night in Mexico, en route to Cuba several years ago. That night, my family and I enjoyed dinner at a really nice restaurant, where we ordered a delicacy featuring black ants as a key ingredient. While I didn’t have a bite, my kids found the dish crunchy and tangy and very exciting. What to us was an adventurous dish was just local cuisine in another part of the world. Most of the Mexican food we had tried before was in the USA, and that too must have been one degree removed from authenticity. So to return to today’s Buddha bowl, let’s just say that it has a hint of Mexico, my culinary interpretation.

I often make this Mexican-influenced recipe for lunch, and the current abundance of avocados on the market is all the more reason to do so. These come from Karnataka, where the climate is conducive for their growth. Perhaps it’s because of my Macrobiotics background, but I feel that when all the ingredients in a dish are locally sourced, they tend to go together better. Aside from the fruit, the bowl contains cilantro rice, beans, vegetables and two types of salsa.

I was thinking about the term “Buddha bowl”, and although I know it’s a recently coined term, I believe I can imagine the thought process behind it. Could it be that it was because the Buddha carried a bowl for alms, and as he went from home to home, always received a motley combination of foods, just like the different components of this modern dish?

Carrying a bowl to seek food alms also exists in the Jain community, which many members of my family belong to. My sister, who lives in Mumbai, frequently has saintly women and men come to her home. They carry a bowl, called “patra”, and are supposed to graciously accept whatever is offered to them, although they can request a preferred quantity so that there is no wastage. The alms they receive are called “bhiksha”. Their arrival is considered a blessing, and whatever has been cooked at home that day will be shared with the monks, who are known as “Mahasatiji”. In the Stanakvasi sect of the Jain Shwetambari tradition, there is no idol worship, so the preaching of these monks is sacred and so is their presence. Whenever a Mahasatiji has come by while I’ve visited my sister, I’ve noticed that it feels like a special occasion. There is some protocol involved: the person offering alms needs to have bathed, there is some chanting, and then the Mahasatiji will bless the home before moving on to the next one, where the next person offering alms will look into the bowl and determine what to offer. If my sister had offered roti, for example, they will ensure they offer something that goes with it.

The Mahasatijis also ask for a teaspoon of chickpea flour, which they use to dry wash their patras. They won’t even waste this, as they will let this dry and eat it as well. They do not use soap due to the chemicals, and refrain from electricity too, so they take the stairs up six floors to my sister’s house. The tradition has many principles based on nature and doing no harm.

The patras themselves are made of natural wood, with lacquer, and I have seen them being sold as antiques as well. Perhaps I noticed this because I am always looking for interesting crockery and props for my photoshoots. What kind of vessels do you serve your Buddha bowls in? I’d love to know, as you try out more of this series.

Mexican-Influenced Buddha Bowl

(Serves 2)

 

Beans

½ cup beans (soaked overnight)

2 tablespoons tomato purée (find my recipe here)

Salt to taste

1 tablespoon olive oil

1 tablespoon chipotle cooking paste

 

Tomato salsa

2 tomatoes

Salt to taste

3 slices jalapeño

1 tablespoon cilantro

1 tablespoon finely chopped onion

1 tablespoon olive oil

 

Pineapple salsa

2 cups finely chopped pineapple

2 tablespoons finely cut jalapeño

2 tablespoons cilantro

2 tablespoons finely cut onion

Salt to taste

Spicy red sauce

 

Cilantro Rice

1½ cups cooked rice

1 tablespoon oil

¼ cup finely cut cilantro

½ lemon

2 slices jalapeños

Salt to taste

 

Vegetables

2 cups sliced bell peppers

1 cup whole corn

1 teaspoon oil

Salt to taste

Pinch pepper

 

Topping

1 avocado

Salt to taste

Olive oil to drizzle

A squeeze of lemon

Prepare each component, and keep them separate until you are ready to assemble and serve the bowl. Here is the method for the beans. First, pressure cook the beans in water. In a pan, add the oil. Now, add the purée, chipotle paste and salt. I used my fabulous all-purpose tomato puree, which you will surely find convenient to have on hand for many recipes too. Stir. Finally, add the beans. In order to make it in a slightly more gravy style, I added some of the water that I had kept aside.

Next, here are the methods for the two salsas. For the tomato salsa, begin by roasting the tomatoes directly in a low flame until the skins are charred. Peel the charred skins and chop finely. Combine all the ingredients together in a bowl. Mix well and refrigerate until use. For the pineapple salsa, simply combine all the ingredients in a bowl and mix well. Refrigerate until use as well.

Now, onto the cilantro rice. In a pan, sauté the rice in oil. Add all the other ingredients and stir on high until it all comes together. You can replace the rice with any grain of your choice.

The vegetables should be sautéed in oil on a pan, and seasoned with salt and pepper as you stir.

Assemble the different components in two medium-sized bowls and add the toppings. Make sure you slice the avocado just before serving, or it will lose colour. Remember what I said in the previous Buddha bowl post about the aesthetics of this serving style and feasting with the eyes first. This dish is best enjoyed warm. You may wish to sprinkle some crushed nacho chips on top for texture too, and I think my kids wouldn’t mind some authentic, crunchy black ants either, if we could find that recipe! As you can see, I’ve also added a bit of green salad on top, as I do love my veggies.

I mentioned earlier that there are avocados galore on the market now, so be sure to come back for the next post, where they will be a starring ingredient…

I was visiting my sister in Mumbai through the fasting week of Paryushan, the most important time of the Jain calendar. Over the course of 8 days, devout Jains maintain some form of abstinence, depending on their personal capacity. Most abstain from eating leafy green vegetables, as this ties in to a belief that they contain life in a way that grains and certain other ingredients do not. Causing harm to any life is forbidden according to the Jain tenets, and during this time of fasting, non-violence is taken as seriously as possible. Some eat only a single meal per day. Others embark on a very intense form of abstinence, in which they will not eat or drink anything at all for the course of the holy days. Paryushan lasts for eight days, the highlight of which is Mahavir Jayanti (celebrating the birth of Mahavir, the twenty-fourth and final spiritual teacher of the religion), which falls on the fifth day. Those who successfully complete the rigorous fasting of consuming nothing over these eight days will say that they have done atthai.

As my sister’s family is a devout one, I saw firsthand what a challenge it can be, in the kitchen, to ensure that meals fulfill the strict criteria of the various fasts being undertaken. At a time like this, there is a complete lack of focus on food as savouring or giving in to desires or temptations are to be avoided. It is the simplicity of the food cooked that is appreciated. Thanking God for the basic things that life gives us, we don’t exactly celebrate (it is not a “festival”) but rather appreciate our blessings.

Given all this, one still has to be creative as a cook. One often finds, during this period, that ingredients that are normally reached for without a thought have to be excluded. For instance, my sister made green moong dhokla but carefully avoided the coriander leaves. Idli-sambar was a popular dish, reminiscent of our Chennai roots of course, that was surprisingly easy – one just avoided the onions and garlic. The one I enjoyed most of all, however, was makkai khichdi.

A khichdi, of which there are numerous variations, is a dish made of rice and lentils. In this version, however, the base ingredient is makkai – corn. Who doesn’t love corn? I’m a huge fan of anything to do with corn, which in addition to being delicious is also highly nutritious. It’s packed with Vitamin B, fibre, zinc, antioxidants, copper, iron and a bevy of other benefits. Corn-based dishes often lend themselves well to being either a snack or a meal, and this makkai khichdi fulfills both criteria.

 

As Jains consider corn (which is technically a grain) a green vegetable, my sister prepares this khichdi using coarsely dried corn. I enjoyed the dish very much when I visited her, but was eagerly waiting to trying out the fresh variation as soon as I got home. Of course, like always, I wanted to add my own twists. In this case, the twists were lemongrass and the use of coconut milk so as to make it vegan. The flavour of corn makes a great base to other flavours, so I knew that my experimental twists would turn out well. Sure enough, they did!

Simple, light and so delicious, this makkai khichdi is one of my favourites. The best evidence that this is a perfect comfort food is that the Dark Prince’s mother used to make it for him during his exams. When you know a child loves a healthy dish, you know that everyone will.

 

 

Makkai Khichdi

(Yield: 1 bowl)

3 cups grated fresh corn

1 cup milk (coconut milk optional)

1 tablespoon oil

½ teaspoon cumin seeds

1 green chilli

A handful of curry leaves

Approximately ½ cup lemongrass or about 8 stalks (cut long)

Salt to taste

 

If you are starting from scratch, ensure that the corn is grated length-wise. Keep it aside.

In a kadai, add the oil. Once it has heated, add the cumin seeds, curry leaves and green chili. Wait for it to splutter and then add the grated corn. Sauté on a medium flame and then add the milk/coconut milk at room temperature. Stir and allow to bubble for approximately 5-10 minutes. Add salt and lemongrass. Stir and turn off the flame.

With time, as the khichdi cools, it will thicken.

Now, remove the lemongrass from the concoction and discard it. You will find upon taking a bite that the flavours would have seeped in beautifully. Garnish with finely chopped coriander leaves and serve.

I also use a similar technique to make a soup some times, which I find pretty filling and tasty when I am not in the mood for a full meal. Prepare the recipe in a more liquid fashion, using more water. Eliminate the tempering, and grind the green chilli, lemongrass and corn together. Add a dollop of butter and voila – you have a rich, flavourful soup.

As a cook, and especially as someone who has trained in Macrobiotics and who is interested in the relationship between science and food, I’ve thought a lot about the logic of the Paryushan fasting season. My understanding is that it is a kind of pre-festive preparation. It falls at the end of the Gujarati calendar, ahead of occasions such as Navaratri, Diwali and so on, which are full of sweets and feasting. By keeping atthai, one detoxes the body and cleanses it before the indulgences of sugar and ghee that are to come. Moreover, the practice of fasting is also a kind of emotional release, a conscious way to close the chapter of a year.

The innovative dishes made during Paryushan, which eliminate all forms of violence as far as possible, are only half of what make me so interested in this holy season. The other half is the way it ends. On the eighth day, the ritual of Micchami Dukkadam is practised. This is the day on which we greet our relatives and friends with the words “Micchami dukkadam”, a Prakrit phrase which translates to “May all the evil that has been done be fruitless.” The ritual is essentially the practice of asking for forgiveness, allowing us to start our new year on a fresh note. What a beautiful way to close the week of purification through fasting, and begin the next chapter. What are some of the rituals from your culture that let you clean the slate? Are there special dishes that are a part of these too?

India contains a diverse mix of religions, both brought from abroad and homegrown. Among the latter category is Jainism, which has been practised for thousands of years. Some of my family members belong to this religion, and as the most sacred Jain festival, a time of fasting known as Paryushana, fell this year between August 19 and August 26, I was reminded of a particular temple we used to visit when we were kids… and a specific delicacy that was served there.

As I mentioned in my previous blog post, food is ritually offered to gods in many Eastern religions. At the Mahudi or Madhupuri temple just outside Ahmedabad, the deity Ghantakarna Mahavir Dev loves a ghee-rich dessert known to Gujarati Jains as sukhudi. Gujarati Vaishnavites like myself know it as gol papdi, and offer it to the baby Lord Krishna. By whichever name you call it, it’s a very simple dish both in its preparation and in the ingredients used. It could have become a staple as a religious offering because of both reasons: any family would have been able to afford to make and serve it to God.

Jaggery is made of cane sugar or date palm. A sweetener that is believed to aid digestion, it is generally a healthier alternative to refined sugar. It has a cooling effect in the summer, and a warming effect in the winter. It’s a vital ingredient in Gujarati cuisine, and a pinch is used in so many dishes (even those which you wouldn’t classify as sweet) to add to the flavour. And it’s a sacred ingredient, of course – the gods certainly seem to enjoy it!

At this temple, this whole wheat and jaggery sweet is made in individual earthenware vessels. After it is offered to the deity, it is served piping hot to those who come to the temple. It is absolutely forbidden to either waste even a little or to take it outside of the temple compound. If you know you’ll be unable to finish your portion, you must give it to pilgrims rather than throw it away. And it is considered extremely bad luck to take sukhudi out of the temple – a theory which my grandmother once tested to her great surprise!

The story was recounted to me by my aunt Sam, whom I visited a couple of weeks ago. Many years ago, when Sam was still a teenager, some of the family had gone to Mahudi. When they returned, the parents and elders were chatting downstairs, while the kids played on the third floor. Sam had been sitting atop of a pile of mattresses that had been set by a window. Down below, her mother (my grandmother) was telling the others that she didn’t believe in the superstition about taking sukhudi out of the temple. Just as she firmly insisted, “Sam just brought some back for me, and nothing happened – I do not believe in such tales!” – a loud thud was heard.

Sam had fallen out of the window! Miraculously, for a fall from the third floor, she was absolutely unscathed. Her mother winced and bit back her words, and made a promise to offer sukhudi at the Mahudi temple as an appeasement. The incident ended any further attempt in my family to take sukhudi out of the Mahudi temple. Perhaps it was a coincidence, and perhaps all our beliefs are created with our own minds (I am reading Yuval Noah Harari’s amazing Sapiens: A Brief History of Humankind and it’s making me ponder such ideas deeply). Still, none of us has tempted fate since.

Whether you want to see these whole wheat jaggery squares as a religious offering or a treat for your sweet tooth is up to you. One thing is for certain: I hope they taste utterly divine.

Jaggery & Whole Wheat Squares

Yield: 10-15 pieces
Prep time: 20 minutes

1 cup whole wheat flour
½ cup clarified butter (ghee)
¾ cup jaggery
½ teaspoon ginger powder
2 tablespoons slivered almonds

Call them whole wheat jaggery squares, call them sukhudi or call them gol papdi – these sweets are very easy to make once you have the ingredients on hand.

Grease a steel plate with some ghee and keep it aside. In a kadhai, or a wok-shaped pan, add ghee and allow it to melt. In a few seconds, add the whole wheat flour. With a spatula, stir and sauté until the mixture turns golden brown. This will take approximately 10-15 minutes on a medium to low flame. Remove from the stove and add the jaggery and ginger powder. As always, season to your taste – I even add cardamom, desiccated coconut, cinnamon or masala chai powder when I make this dish. Ginger in particular is something that is traditionally added during winters for its warming effect.

A word about jaggery: it varies in sweetness around the world, so you must gauge the correct amount to use when you make this dish. I had used a particularly sweet batch when I made this after talking to my aunt, and found it too cloying, then made it again to my taste. However, if you add too little jaggery, the mixture will not bind. As with any recipe, sometimes it takes more than one try to get it right.

Mix well until the jaggery melts and the ginger powder or flavours of your choice are distributed evenly. While still hot, pour the mixture onto the greased plate and spread evenly. Flatten it with a cup so it evens out, and add the almond slivers on top quickly, before it begins to cool.

Then, cut into even squares and allow them to cool before transferring them to an air tight container.

These whole wheat and jaggery squares are so simple to make – all you really have to do is stir it well for it to cook properly. That’s probably why they were such a staple in my childhood, something my mom could whip up quickly and store for several days’ worth of after-school snacks. As they don’t spoil easily, gol papdi was also something we took with us when we travelled. Memories, love and a sense of security – they are contained in every bite of a cherished dish, aren’t they?