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Confession: I have a dislike for cucumber. This has been a problem for me because for Indian salads, or at least the one I grew up having to eat, cucumber is a basic ingredient. At some point, I decided that I had better make friends with the vegetable. Not only is it present at so many meals, but it also happens to be very healthy, full of antioxidants and very hydrating. I knew that being innovative about the preparation, as well as making it attractive in its presentation, were the keys. That is how this Asian cucumber salad came to be.

The particular salad I grew up with was the Indian kachumber. It contains onions, tomatoes and cucumbers – all sliced and served raw, and seasoned with salt and chilli powder. My childhood impressions of it certainly did make me averse to cucumber, but in hindsight I recognise that it was the way it was presented that was as unappealing as the taste. Children’s palates veer away from vegetables. I eventually learned to love many of them, as you may have noticed from so many recipes and memories I’ve shared. But the way I saw cucumber changed only when I changed, well, the way I saw it.

As you can see, I have used a pretty platter to serve the dish. That is a vital component in making any dish look more attractive. When making this salad, here are a few more tips that will increase its visual appeal. Ensure that the cucumber is sliced just before serving, so that it doesn’t look wilted at all. I feel that round slices work better in terms of the look, but if you prefer long ones, go ahead. There are plenty of fancy slicers available too, to play around with shapes and cuts. They could especially increase the fun quotient for kids.

We eat first, but we also make things in our mind before we consume them. For instance, have you ever wondered why red wine is served in a certain glass or white wine in another? A plate, a cup, a serving spoon… It became the standard because someone began using it, and others followed suit. Make your own style, break out. It makes the whole culinary experience more interesting.

But it isn’t just the way the salad looks when well-plated that matters, but the dressing does as well. I found that an Asian-style dressing completely transformed the vegetable and perked it up beautifully. This really is the element that makes this whole dish what it is.

I’m very interested in Asian cooking and really enjoy the sauces used therein, along with certain techniques. For instance, vegetables are not always fully cooked. They are stir-fried in a variety of sauces that greatly increase their flavour and make you want to eat them in that semi-raw state. Being semi-raw, those vegetables are healthier and add more texture to the dish too. You may want to check out some recipes I’ve shared like this rice stir-fry and last week’s udon noodles to see what I mean.

My daughter happens to be quite talented at Asian cooking, and I love discovering dishes with her. We recently made kimchi together, which I shared on my Instagram. It was delicious, and also happens to be very good for gut health. When we get together, we explore this cuisine, and always make our regulars: burnt garlic rice and dim sums. If you happen to visit me when she’s in town, there’s bound to be something Asian on the menu. A really simple way to start trying out that range of cuisines is through a salad like this one.

Asian Cucumber Salad

(Yield: Serves 2)

 

1 tablespoon soy sauce

1 teaspoon rice vinegar

3 cucumbers (medium-sized)

1 teaspoon brown sugar

1 teaspoon sesame oil

1 teaspoon sesame seeds

10-12 cashews (split and roasted)

½ teaspoon chilli flakes

 

Toast the cashew and set aside.

In a bowl, prepare the dressing. Add the soy sauce, rice vinegar, brown sugar, sesame oil and chili flakes. Mix well.

When you are ready to serve the salad, slice the cucumbers into rings, as thinly as possible. As I said before, this is my preferred method, but you should do yours. Arrange the slices on a plate of your choice.

Pour the dressing over the sliced cucumber. Sprinkle the toasted cashew. Serve immediately. Enjoy the burst of flavours as they mingle with the texture and coolness of the fresh vegetable. See what a big difference a good dressing and a pretty plate can make?

In my previous post on bottle gourd thepla, a Gujarati flatbread variation, I mentioned that aloo methi sabzi is a perfect accompaniment. Aloo methi sabzi – or potato roast with fenugreek leaves – is very quick to make and tastes simply delicious. Besides – who doesn’t love potatoes?

I always seem to have some boiled potatoes ready in the kitchen, because I use them extensively. In Indian cuisine, this may be in the form of chaats, aloo tikkis, stuffed aloo parathas or more. They are just as useful for dishes from other cuisines, as potatoes really are enjoyed all around the world. Drop me a message or a comment if you’d like the recipes for any of the dishes I’ve named, or if there’s something more creative you’d like to explore together.

They really are such a versatile vegetable, and I like keeping them handy. When they are just lying around and I suspect they may go bad soon, I usually just boil them up and whip up some aloo methi sabzi. It’s the kind of dish that doesn’t ever go to waste in my house.

As it takes little time to prepare, as long as the potatoes have already been boiled, this is also my go-to recipe on days when my husband wakes up and says “Okay, I have to carry lunch to work today – it looks like I can’t come home in between”. With such short notice, sautéing this dish and putting some theplas in his tiffin box are the best way to make sure he gets a fulfilling lunch, made fast and fuss-free.

It’s so true that whatever one is most used to in the kitchen comes together effortlessly, and this recipe is in that category for me. The thepla part comes so easy too – I could make them blindfolded! But as a cook and as a person, I enjoy the challenge of learning new things. Right now, I am hungry for more skills that take me out of my comfort zone, or help me improve. I’m back to my sloka chanting classes after a break, and I am also restarting learning to speak Spanish. I mentioned recently how much I want to study Italian cuisine, and the thought of learning about authentic pasta and gelato has fired my imagination. I’d love to do an exchange programme with an Italian chef – perhaps they could teach me their recipes, and I could teach them some from my part of the world.

All that said, amidst such exciting pursuits, comfort food that doesn’t require thought and energy is much cherished. This aloo methi sabzi isn’t just an easy, tasty dish for me, but it also carries with it many childhood memories. Quite unusually for our generation, my brother was very interested in cooking. As the oldest child, he was put in charge of meals while our mother was travelling. I can still recall sitting on the kitchen floor with my sister, both of us literally and figuratively looking up at him as he worked, the smell of aloo methi sabzi wafting around us. This simple dish, paired with a standard thepla, was obviously his go-to as well. So my favourite memories of aloo methi sabzi are also memories of him.

When I think about it, I recognise just how much of a hub of activity the kitchen was when we were growing up. The boys and men did not keep out, as was the norm at the time. While my father didn’t cook, he chose to be in charge of groceries, not because he could go out more freely as a man, but because he was very interested in and wanted to contribute to the workings of a kitchen. It was quite wonderful, and very rare, for that time: a brother who cooked and a father who knew all about groceries.

 

Aloo Methi Sabzi

(Yield: Serves 2)

 

3 medium sized potatoes

1 cup finely chopped methi (fenugreek) leaves

Salt to taste

2 tablespoons oil

¼ teaspoon turmeric

1 teaspoon cumin seeds

1 green chilli (split length-wise)

1½ teaspoons cumin-coriander powder

 

Heat the oil in a kadai. Once it is hot, add the cumin seeds. When they splutter, add the split green chilli. Then, add the chopped potatoes. I sometimes add spinach as well, to make it even healthier.

Following this, add the methi leaves and all the masala. Stir all the ingredients together well and allow to cook.

As I said – the method for aloo methi sabzi is quite simple. Once the dish has cooked, serve hot alongside theplas, other flatbreads or rice. Or put it in a lunch box, and enjoy a home-cooked meal a few hours later.

Here are a couple more of my favourite potato preparations: a Gujarati potato brinjal curry that is close to my heart and also evokes my childhood, and spicy patatas bravas from Spain that always inspire me to keep exploring the world. As I said before, everyone seems to love potatoes, so I’m curious to know: what are some of your own favourites?

I seem to be on a toast spree at home, as my family has been very thrilled by my sourdough stylings lately. This has been a hassle-free and highly creative time of experimenting, as I have been exploring the use of different toppings to break the monotony of having toast at breakfast. In addition to my family, in the recent past we have been entertaining quite a bit with house guests. While most out-of-towners prefer the idli and dosa standards of local cuisine here, the toasts I whip up add some variety to their choices. This cherry tomato yoghurt toast in particular was perfect for a day when a friend from the Mediterranean was feeling a little nostalgic for some comfort food.

That’s right: Greek yogurt is one of the key components to this dish. I came across the use of yoghurt on toast during various travels in Europe, and the dahi-lover in me was naturally charmed. I believe it is used as it is lighter than ricotta and mozzarella, yet provides the nutrients of dairy while being easier to digest. However, it can certainly be substituted with feta cheese or any other fresh cheese that is available in your part of the world. If you don’t have Greek yoghurt, hung curd is a great option.

The beautiful organic cherry tomatoes I had at home, which I’d been using on pizzas, were perfect to layer on the toast. The overall effect was quite visually pleasing too.

While I had been toying with the idea of a European-style open-faced toast with yoghurt for a while, I only prepared it for the first time quite recently. This was when the Italian friend I mentioned earlier visited us. He would speak often about his Nona (grandmother) and her amazing cuisine and how much he was missing her during his travels. One day, he remarked that he was craving for a dish that was not Indian and that could sort of transport him back to her kitchen. I can safely say from his appreciative reaction that this toast did exactly that. While the varieties of tomatoes available here differ, he told me that this simple breakfast was the closest he had felt to the tastes of home.

I must say, I too have had a craving for a while: to study authentic Italian cooking. My friend has been asking me to come visit and learn his cuisine from his beloved Nona. If I take him up on his offer, I will be sure to come back with a crateful or two of fresh Italian tomatoes!

Cherry Tomato Yoghurt Toast

(Yield: 1 slice)

I large sourdough slice

½ cup Greek yoghurt or hung curd

1 cup cherry tomatoes

Salt to taste

A pinch of pepper

2 teaspoons olive oil

 

Toast the sourdough slice.

Spread the Greek yoghurt over the toasted slice.

Bake or sauté the cherry tomatoes in a pan, and arrange them over the yoghurt. Sprinkle salt and pepper. Add any herbs you like, such as fresh basil or oregano, drizzle with the olive oil, and serve.

Simplicity is crucial in putting a good breakfast toast together, to save time in the mornings. As you can see, this is a recipe that perfectly fits that criteria. It is easy to prepare, and is very healthy. Honestly, even one slice is quite filling. Did I mention that it’s also delicious? Try it out for yourself and tell me what you think!

I bought an ice cream maker recently, very enthusiastically. It has churned out all kinds of delicious flavours since then, like vanilla-lavender, vegan coconut-rose and even a Belgian chocolate. What I had not attempted yet was a sorbet, but it still being the peak of summer put that temptation for this light, refreshing, ice-cool dessert into my mind. Many of the recipes I researched looked pretty simple, so I decided to give it a shot. The star ingredient I decided on was the super-hydrating watermelon. There is plenty on the market at present, and a watermelon sorbet seemed just perfect for this sweltering season.

Luckily for me, in addition to the sweet and nutritious watermelon, my friend Garima gifted me a bag full of Meyer lemons too, and these found their place here too. You may remember that they featured in this lemon poppy cake. I don’t know if she was already aware that I adore Meyer lemons, but the fact that they were available here in Chennai was a happy surprise to me. I did not want to waste a single one. I prepared an utterly delicious lemon curd one day, and when the craving for a sorbet came, I realised that a dash of lemon would be ideal to enhance it too.

The recipe I am providing below has the necessary details both for those of you who have ice cream makers and for those of you who will just use moulds and freezers. The method is very straightforward and easy to follow. Feel free to play around with the flavours, replacing watermelon with another fruit, such as mango for instance. As you read earlier, I’ve been quite adventurous when it comes to ice creams and will surely experiment with different sorbet combinations too. For now, this watermelon sorbet with a little bit of Meyer lemon juice has my heart.

It reminds me so much of when I was growing up, when a parlour called Joy Ice Cream was one of the very popular spots in the city. It was also one of the few ice cream parlours that existed here for a long time. They had raspberry and mango popsicles, which sorbets call to mind. When I served this dish for the first time, it transported me right back to those days. To those years, I should say… When I was small, we would go there as a family for a treat after dinner sometimes. Later, once I entered adulthood, it continued to be a space of camaraderie too.

In fact, the first place that my husband and I went to after being introduced was to Joy Ice Cream. Not long after, as a newly-married woman, it was a place where I would go to meet my friends. We were all young, and had mostly just gotten married, and we would exchange experiences and stories about our lives and our learnings. It was a place where stories and sweetness were shared, and new friends were made. This watermelon sorbet carries all those memories for me.

Now of course, Joy Ice Cream doesn’t exist, and dozens of brands and flavours are available at the click of a button on many apps. A frozen treat is always a delight, but making one myself makes me feel connected to those simpler times. There’s just something special about this watermelon sorbet, as I hope you’ll see…

Watermelon Sorbet

(Yield: 6 popsicles)

 

1 litre watermelon juice

250 grams sugar

2 tablespoons lemon juice

A tiny pinch of salt

 

In a clean pan, add the sugar, salt and ¼ of the watermelon juice. Place on a medium flame and stir until the sugar dissolves.

Remove from the stove and add the remaining watermelon juice. Stir well, then pop the mixture in the freezer until chilled, but not frozen.

If you have a machine: take the mixture out of the freezer, put it in the ice cream maker and follow the machine’s instructions. If you do not have a machine: pour the chilled mixture directly into the popsicle moulds and leave the tray to set in the freezer.

To serve, rinse the popsicle moulds for a few seconds under tap water and they will release easily. It goes without saying that this sorbet needs to be served immediately after it has set.

I’ve shared many desserts on this blog over the last five and a half years, but this is the very first time that a sorbet has made an appearance, so it’s quite exciting for me. I hope you’ll enjoy this melony, lemony and most lovely dessert, and that it brings back to you happy memories and helps you make more of them too!

Still on the theme of post-festive millet-based goodness, after the previous post’s millet upma, I’m glad to share another recipe that I’ve been turning to frequently. This is another breakfast dish, and what’s even better is that it makes use of the previous day’s leftovers, maximizing resources and minimizing time. There’s a long tradition of innovative dishes that do this, as we’ve seen in my second helpings series from a few years back, and this bajra rotlo cereal fits beautifully into that category too.

Bajra, or pearl millet, is a long-fingered crop with hundreds of grains on the cob. It has been cultivated on the Indian subcontinent for thousands of years, and is a staple across different cuisines in this region. As a darker coloured millet, which indicates that it is heavier on the digestive system, it is perfect for monsoons and Indian winters. It keeps the body warm, since the digestive system is active for longer, working on those slow-release carbs, and thus reduces hunger between meal-times. I have noticed that it is one of the key ingredients consumed by farmers, such as the people I’ve met on my travels to the Rann of Kutch, where the salt-harvesting community eats bajra with chutney daily.  It has a high iron quotient, is gluten-free and is rich in amino acids, fibre and antioxidants.

Bajra rotlo is a flatbread, one of many varieties enjoyed by the Gujarati community. It is most often accompanied by a garlic chutney, but while I was growing up my mother would usually serve it to us with jaggery and ghee or else with homemade white butter. In those days, the milk quality of brands that are still around today was pure and excellent, which meant we could extract our own buttermilk from the curd, and from this the butter. I remember watching my mother churning the buttermilk, which would make the butter float on top. She would often ask me for my help. We would collect the white butter and set it aside. Having it with some bajra rotlo over dinner was one of my favourite meals.

Of course, the homemade butter no longer exists and the store-bought ones just don’t compare when it comes to this purpose. Which brings me to my second-favourite way of eating bajra rotlo: as cereal.

It’s funny how things come full circle. As a child, this was a dish that I scorned at the breakfast table. My mother would always prepare a few extra bajra rotlos, to be kept overnight for my father and her to have in the morning. She would crumble these with her hands, turning them into a cereal consistency, and my parents would eat this cereal with milk. It looked like cornflakes to us kids, which was interesting in theory, but we did not like the taste back then. I grew to love it, however. In fact, I now enjoy this deconstructed version more than I enjoy the previous night’s freshly-made, unbroken bajra rotlos themselves!

Now, when I prepare bajra rotlo cereal, the memory of my mother’s hands and the way she would crumble the rotlos always comes to me. The dish is all the more special because of this.

For the time being, no one else in my family likes bajra rotlo cereal. But they watch me eat it, just as I once watched my parents eat it. I’ve never forced it on my kids, but maybe somewhere later down the line, they’ll reach out for this comfort food on some mornings too. Fond memories really are what make food palatable, above all else. Besides, as parents we always set an example. The next generation, be they little or a little older, will make similar choices to ours. So the more healthily we eat, the better a model we set for them.

Bajra Rotlo Cereal

(Yield: 4 servings)

1 cup bajra flour

½ cup water

A pinch of salt

½ cup flour for rolling

 

Optional (non-cereal version)

1 tablespoon finely chopped onion

1 tablespoon finely coriander leaves

 

Put the flour in a bowl, add the pinch of salt and stir. If you plan on having the bajra rotlo as a bread, not a cereal, then make the savoury version and add the onion and coriander now. Skip these optional ingredients if you plan on having the cereal version.

Add the water. Leave a little bit behind in the cup – use just enough to make a malleable dough.

Once the dough is made you, don’t let it sit. You will have to roast the rotlo immediately.

Make four smooth balls with the dough. On a rolling board, sprinkle more flour. Place a ball of dough on it and use your palms to gently pat it out. Use your fingers to press down the edges of the rotlo. If you need the help of the rolling pin, you may use it, but very lightly and gently. Since there is no gluten, the dough will be soft and needs to be handled with care. Add more flour if necessary. Each rotlo needs to be ¼ inch in thickness. Keep dusting with flour at the bottom too. Make all four pieces.

On a hot griddle, place each rotlo individually. Use your fingers to wet the top of the rotlo with water.

Roast on one side and flip over. Cool on a medium flame. As it’s thick, it needs to cook well on the inside. Once it has spots on both sides, place the rotlo directly on the flame to cook further.

Remove from the stove and top with ghee. Allow to cool. You can now serve this bajra rotlo with chutney or dal, if you like.

To make a cereal, once it has cooled, either the same day or the next morning, simply crush or crumble the rotlo with your hands.

You can have this with cold milk, if you prefer that. I usually have mine with warm milk. Specifically, I enjoy it with almond milk, which I’ve been reaching for more and more in my quest to make my diet more vegan. You can also add some sugar, if you wish to sweeten the cereal. All in all, it makes for a complete and healthy breakfast.

The festive season also coincides with the wedding season, which means that there is a general period of celebration until February or so in most Indian communities, peppered with religious occasions as well as personal gatherings. Foods like this dish, which nourish the body and let it recover from the heavy, fried, sugary, buttery, ghee-rich foods that are eaten at special events, are welcome and appreciated after and between feasts. This isn’t to knock indulgent foods at all – in fact, I have noticed how traditional ingredients like gond or gum resin, which are used in laddoos, are a warming agent and boost immunity. There’s a culinary and seasonal logic to indulgence too. But the body really does feel better when some millets are in the mix, balancing out the treats.

I’ve got quite a repertoire of millet-based dishes in my recipe archive, if you are keen to bring this nutritious category into your kitchen more often. Having tried this bajra rotlo cereal, if you find that you’re a fan of pearl millet at breakfast, the traditional Gujarati bajra ghensh is also a fantastic option. Here’s to happy, healthy mornings!

For many years, a lovely lady named Hamsa has visited a few times a week, to conduct a chanting class for me. She teaches me Sanskrit scriptures like the Vishnu Sahasranamam and the Lalitha Sahasranamam. I’ve been chanting for the last fifteen years and it’s a source of immense solace for me. Hamsa is from Andhra Pradesh, a region known for its spicy cuisine, and it so happens that one of my favourite condiments comes from there. It’s a ginger chutney sweetened with a hint of jaggery, and I’m delighted to share the recipe for it with you today.

Before the pandemic, I was a frequent customer at a wonderful South Indian restaurant where an array of chutneys would be served. No matter how diverse the spread, I would always reach instantly for the ginger chutney, so much so that I’d even ask to have any leftovers of it packed to take back home and enjoy with the next meal. One day, as we were chatting after class, I asked Hamsa if she knew how to make that fabulous dish. I was thrilled to hear her say, casually, that she made it daily! Of course, she then kindly brought me some a couple of times, after which I asked that she teach me the recipe. I’m a hands-on learner and I wanted to watch her preparing the dish. So one day when she visited, she prepared it in my kitchen as I eagerly watched the process, and I’ve been making it happily ever since.

I believe that we all experience learnings from any person. It doesn’t matter who they are, or in what form the learning comes, but it enriches us just the same. This is something that’s so crucial for us to keep in mind at this difficult time for India. If we keep our eyes and our minds open, we will perceive that all of life itself is a learning, and that we are amidst so many ongoing lessons given what is happening is the country and the world. We are learning about what works and what doesn’t, and what has to change for a better future. In our personal lives and relationships, we are learning something every day about how to get through this crisis – seeing which relationships can withstand it and how, seeing sometimes that the problem isn’t the other person but us, and so much more. These are valuable learnings that we must carry forward.

I’m grateful to have learnt this recipe from Hamsa, to add to all the knowledge she has given me over the years spiritually. She doesn’t just teach me chants, but also talks about culture and ritual, deepening my understanding of the same. When I’m feeling down, she will often suggest a mantra that I can say to strengthen myself. This is advice that has kept me in good stead through my adversities.

I’m sharing the recipe for ginger chutney with you today along with a slice of my life. After I have completed my baking, cooking and exercise schedule in the morning, I always sit down to chant. I genuinely believe in prayer, and in the power of hope. I believe that as a human race we will come out of this darkness, and when I am in prayer, my conviction in this is at its strongest.

With the current lockdown in Chennai, I now take virtual classes from Hamsa daily. I can read Sanskrit, and one of the things I appreciate about her teaching style is that she is very particular about pronunciation. This takes me back to when I was a little girl in a convent school full of wonderful Irish nuns, who insisted on precision in handwriting and enunciation. The lovely Mrs. Martanda, my English teacher, would teach us the difference between the spoken words “vow” and “wow”, for example. She used the Wren and Martin grammar book and various dictionaries as teaching tools. That I am able to recall these details decades on is a testament to the influence a good teacher can have, in any aspect of life. As I said earlier: we learn something from someone, every day. We are all students, and we are all teachers.

And so – I learnt this from Hamsa and I am now teaching it to you. It’s a brilliant ginger chutney made in the Andhra style. My version is drier than Hamsa’s, and I make it this way so that it lasts longer. It has a perfect combination of flavours – sweet jaggery, spicy red chilli and piquantly aromatic ginger, the last one being a particular favourite of mine. It’s so Indian, yet so doable in any part of the world, consisting of simple ingredients and a quick and easy process. In case you cannot source jaggery, try brown sugar or coconut sugar as a substitute. This ginger chutney lifts up the flavours of my Buddha bowls, my dhoklas, my dosas… it adds such a sumptuous taste to anything I pair it with.

Ginger Chutney

(Yield: 1 cup)

2 small cups washed, finely cut ginger

1 small (lime-sized) ball tamarind

8 dry red Kashmiri chillies

2 tablespoons urad dal

Salt to taste

2 teaspoons cumin seeds

2 tablespoons jaggery powder

2 tablespoons sesame oil

 

Add the oil to a pan. Dry roast all the ingredients – except the jaggery – until they all turn golden, on a medium flame. Finally, add the jaggery.

Allow to cool. Blend well together without adding any water. You can store this in the refrigerator for 10-15 days. As a dry chutney, it is inherently more long-lasting.

I’d love to know how you’ve been pairing the various dips I’ve been sharing. The previous two in this Indian condiments series were the Tamil-style raw mango thovayal and the Gujarati-style dry garlic chutney. In the past, I’ve also shared several fusion and Indian dips and condiments, all of which can be used creatively, and I hope you’ll be curious about exploring those too. Here they are: curry leaf and green chilli hummus, plum chutney, wood-apple chutney, coriander chutney and date chutney. Enjoy!

Sometimes, you just don’t have the energy to do much in the kitchen at all, but that’s no reason to skimp on having a dessert that can make you feel better. Whether the heat has enervated you, or the ongoing pandemic has dragged your cheerful spirits down, the key to preparing a pick-me-up is in one aspect only: the simplicity quotient. I’ve been making this mango twist nearly every day, and you can too.

What I love about it is that ticks all the boxes: it satisfies my sweet tooth without the use of refined sugar, allows me to have well-rounded meals while I am off carbs, makes the most of the earth’s seasonal bounty, and is practically effortless to prepare.

Really, it’s so easy that anyone can make it. Which brings me to another reason that I thought this fruity dessert would be perfect to share right now. It’s that making it is just the kind of activity to keep your younger kids happy, and that’s something I can imagine many of you doing with the little ones being at home all the time now. Putting this dessert together is a simple way to get them to explore the vast world of cooking. The sense of achievement they’ll enjoy will taste almost as good as the dish itself. This is a beautiful way impart the value of a home-made treat or meal, and it shouldn’t surprise you if they graduate to wanting to try out more culinary experiments too. As I’ve said before on this blog, I consider my recipes my heirlooms. There’s no reason to wait till they are older to share an elaborate traditional method when you can instill the love of cooking in them from a very young age through simple dishes like this one.

Here’s yet another amazing tick on that check-list: this mango twist is vegan! Of late, I have noticed that cutting down on my dairy consumption really does make me feel better overall. While I am not a hardcore vegan, as much as I would like to be, I do love the coconut milk I use in this dish and enjoy consuming it in this delicious way. You can use dairy, if that’s what you have on hand. Or you can substitute the coconut milk with almond milk, which will result in a thinner dessert that you can plump up with nutritious chia seeds.

Variety is certainly one of the elements that keeps a dish like this interesting. When mango season ends, simply use any other fruit that you have on hand.

I think of this Mango Twist as one of those recipes that is so common that it hardly warrants a recipe. Surely, everyone already knows it, I pondered to myself when the idea of this post occurred to me. Then, I realised how in any hectic time, we often get so carried away that we neglect to notice what is right before our eyes. So this recipe is really more of a reminder, something that tells you to open your fridge and see for yourself – you probably already have everything you need to whip up something wonderful right away.

As a refrigerated dessert, you can also make it in advance so that it’s right there and ready for you when you desperately need something to cool off in this sweltering heat, or could use a pick-me-up. Some time in the hopefully not-far future, when we are back to entertaining guests as always, it’s also an ideal dessert to prepare earlier in the day so that you won’t have to take time putting a snack together after they arrive. Just take it out of the fridge and it’s ready to be served on a tray. It’s a visually attractive dessert, so presentation is key – what colours do you want to have pop inside the glass, and how will you layer the ingredients? You can go decadent, or you can keep it nutritious but still appealing by using fruits of different colours to create a tempting look.

Mango Twist

(Yield: 2 glasses)

1 cup coconut cream

½ cup mango pulp

Pecans or any topping of your choice

½ teaspoon maple syrup or honey (optional)

 

In each glass, add 2 teaspoons of coconut cream. I like to use small eatery glasses as they look very pretty. Layer this with the mango pulp. Freeze for sometime, then remove from the freezer. Now, top the pulp again with the coconut cream gently. Finally, add the pecans or any other toppings of your choice, and drizzle with some maple syrup or honey, as healthier sweetening substitutes. I only use these if I find the mango a little tart. Otherwise, the dessert doesn’t need it.

In lieu of coconut cream, you can also use pudding, fresh cream or other substitutes. Some other great toppings include caramelised nuts, maple syrup, honey, orange rind and seeds. Any kind of brittle, crumbled cake or re:store’s popular muesli will also add more taste and texture. Don’t forget that no matter what time of year you make this, you can use any seasonal fruit of your choice. When preparing it with your kids, indulge them with colourful jellies or cute chocolates that will make the smiles on their faces even bigger.

Given that this is a summer during which the simple pleasures are more important than ever, as we continue to collectively fight the pandemic, I intend to fully take all the joy I can get from the mango season. Do subscribe or connect over Instagram so that you’ll know as soon as my next few recipes go up – dishes that range from sweet to sour to savoury are coming, all thanks to this wonderful fruit!

As I said earlier, I think of this mango twist as a “reminder recipe” – is there anything similar that you’d like to share in the comments? I am sure we would all love to know more about each others’ summer go-to dishes and desserts!

The summer is here, and so are the sweet potatoes – and the mangoes! I couldn’t resist slicing some of these wonderful seasonal harvests up and putting them to delicious use in my kitchen. As you may know, we eat a lot of salads at home, and I’m always on a quest to add more variety and novelty to mine. The secret is in hitting on the right balance of flavours or textures, and pairing the dish with a dressing that uplifts it. I think I have a star in this one, and it’s delightful to me that it features one of the vegetables I have always enjoyed, alongside a fruit you just can’t go wrong with during an Indian summer.

I’ve spoken about mangoes plenty of times on this blog, so let me share my love for sweet potatoes as well.

The first way in which I enjoyed sweet potatoes was in a thick kheer or payasam that I used to have as a child. When they were in season and therefore plentiful, my mother would boil them, mash them and add milk. This would make for a very healthy dessert that required no further sweetening. She was an expert at such exquisitely simple milk-based desserts, and inspired me to create some of my own.

Certain memories come up when one contemplates any kind of familiar food. For me, the other important personal and cultural association that sweet potatoes evoke is that they are one of the ingredients that are permissible during the Faraali fasting that takes place in the month of Shravan, observed by Vaishnav Gujaratis. My mother maintained these fasts while we were growing up, and during those times she ate sweet potatoes frequently, and so did we.

Faraali is a relatively lenient type of fasting: it is not that consumption is not allowed, but that certain types of harvest are not permissible. Grains are taboo during this time, whereas tubers like sweet potatoes and yams form the bulk of the fasting menu.

Years later, through my Macrobiotics studies and my constant inquisitiveness about culinary science, I am able to understand and admire the beautiful logic of all fasting traditions, from Lent to Ramadan to Paryushan. I realise that Faraali must originally have been all about honouring the cycles of nature, avoiding certain types of harvest so as to allow the soil and the plants to replenish themselves during the rainy month of Shravan. It would also be the right time for the human body to purify itself with vegetables and fruits, as the weather would mean that people stepped out less and would also not be able to work in the fields. Fewer carbohydrates would be required, as less energy was required, so grains need not to be a part of the diet during that time. This is my perspective on the reasons behind this religious practice, and I often feel that when we think deeply about rituals, many of them will have a practical function behind them. Our ancestors were far more in sync with nature than we are, and had the wisdom to develop daily and seasonal routines that respected and kept this balance.

So for us today, as modern human beings with eclectic palates, one way to stay in sync is to accept that heavy lunches in the summer time make us more lethargic, and can diminish our productivity over the rest of the day. Salads cut out the heavy carb load of rice and grains, while also being filling, delicious, nourishing – and visually vibrant, which improves the mood and whets the appetite. If you’re a fan of this food category, be sure to explore my archives, where I’ve shared many of the tried-and-true salads that are super hits at home: this one where the passion fruit dressing is the star, another season-suitable mango salad, a nutritious millet salad, and a few dishes you may not have thought of as salads but really are, like peach salsa, sundal and green moong bhel. Another health-boosting eating habit is to regard a salad not as an appetiser or an accompaniment, but as a meal-in-a-bowl. It’s really just about portions.

Coming specifically to this summery sweet potato and mango salad, I am often a bit suspicious of the unusual sweetness of the sweet potato chips that many restaurants serve, and I prefer making them myself. The technique is very easy, as you’ll see below. You can substitute the sweet potatoes for yams, and use the same thin-sliced technique to fry them. These crispy sweet potatoes are what I use in this salad. If you prefer not to fry them at all, you can have them steamed and sliced. It all depends on the textures you’re building the salad with, and any health or taste preferences that you may have.

 

Seasonal Sweet Potato And Mango Salad

(Yield: 1 bowl)

 

½ cup sliced sweet potato

½ cup sliced ripe sweet mango

2 cups lettuce

½ onion

2 tablespoons coriander leaves

1 teaspoon olive oil

1 tablespoon sunflower seeds

 

Dressing:

Salt to taste

1 tablespoon honey

2 tablespoons lemon juice

4 tablespoons pomegranate juice

A pinch of black pepper

1 tablespoon olive oil

 

In a bowl, add all the dressing ingredients together. Store this in the fridge.

Heat a pan and add the oil. Once the oil has heated, add the sliced sweet potato. Make sure the sweet potato is sliced thin so that it can cook faster. Cover with a lid and allow to cook for a few minutes on a low flame.

Then, remove the lid and increase the flame to medium. Allow the slices to turn crisp. Flip them to ensure that both sides are well done. Once they are fried, set them aside.

Prepare the salad by putting the sliced onion and torn lettuce into a bowl. Add the fried sweet potato crisps and the fresh mango slices on top. Add the dressing, garnish with coriander leaves, and mix gently. Allow to cool for some time, and serve.

I hope you’ll enjoy the mix of crispiness and sweetness in this simple yet satisfying sweet potato and mango salad. It’s just perfect for this hot weather, and keeps you light on your feet after the meal. Speaking of the summer, since we are in mango season here in South India, you can expect next weekend’s post to celebrate the fruit. In the meanwhile, maybe you’ll want to check out the many ways the mango has starred in my recipes over the years?

Rounding off this series of grain-based, khichdi-like dishes is the simplest, most quotidian version of all: a frequent-use Gujarati-style khichdi. If you’d like to catch up first, we began the series with the work-intensive and tummy-filling seven-grain khichdo and then went on to the versatile breakfast/dinner meal of bajra ghensh). Today, we come to an extremely basic dish, one that is sheer comfort food. What I’ve come to see over the years is that meals that one takes for granted in one’s own home are sometimes novelties in another’s. This is why I often share unassumingly familiar recipes alongside original and unusual ones. This classic khichdi is one among the former category.

Like many staples that are good for our health, khichdi is the kind of dish that kids turn their noses up at. At least, my siblings and I just hated it were growing up. So our mother would negotiate a lot of deals to work around our aversion. In those days, all our food was homemade, so this would take some extra effort on her part. If there was going to be khichdi for dinner, she’d serve something exotic that she learnt at her Continental cuisine or baking classes for lunch. We also cottoned on to the strategy: if there was a special snack in the evening without it being an occasion or a holiday, we knew she was going to put a bowl of khichdi on the table for dinner!

As adults though, it’s a different story. Our palates change and we begin to enjoy food that is good for us, feeling the difference in our bodies when we consume it. In fact, this subcontinental staple (which is eaten in similar forms like pongal in South India) is so relished that it even caught the fancy of the British during the colonial era. They enjoyed a version with fish, a dish they called “kedgeree”, and popularised it in England for a time. It was an import similar to mulligatawny soup, which came from the Tamil dish called molaga-thanni. Some form of khichdi is believed to have been eaten in this part of the world since ancient times, but the recipe reached its pinnacle in the kitchens of the Mughal empire, where its richly spiced and garnished versions are recorded as having been among the favourites dishes of various rulers.

For us at home though, khichdi is neither fancy nor fishy. Every single Gujarati household consumes this khichdi as a comfort food, as well as a frequent meal. During festive seasons or after important occasions like weddings, when the feasting is in full flow, someone or the other will finally say, “Bas (‘enough’), make khichdi today.” That is shorthand for being done with heavy meals, and wanting something that will make the gut smile.

In fact, when I say it is comfort food, I mean that quite literally. It’s the dish that is most commonly made in a home that has just undergone a bereavement, when the family just needs something basic to meet their nutritional needs as they tend to the necessary rituals. Most likely because of its association with grieving, khichdi is never served during celebrations. After them, certainly, as I mentioned above. But never as part of a special event. Neither is it served while entertaining guests. It is very much something that is all about family and simplicity. As we rarely get to encounter another family’s khichdi, I can only guess that the variations between recipes must be innumerable.

So no, khichdi is not special. That’s the best thing about it. It’s a brass tacks dish that gives the body the basics, and uses ingredients that are likely to be in the kitchen at all times. It is comprised mostly of moong dal and rice, with a bit of salt, turmeric and ghee. If it is served with accompaniments, crispy pappads and a bit of kadhi are usually enough. Some potato curry or other vegetable may round out the meal more, if desired. I’ve mentioned kadhi, a type of gravy, a couple of times recently. I’ll be sure to share the recipe for that soon.

Another recipe I will share soon will be for theplas that use leftover khichdi. As I’ve said before: cuisines across all communities in India are innovative when it comes to leftovers. We see poverty everywhere in our country and respect food, acknowledging it as a blessing from God. This in turn becomes a part of our religions too, which discourage food wastage.

Simple Khichdi

(Yield: 2 persons)

 

75 grams rice

25 grams split mung beans

3 cups water to soak

2 cups water to cook

Salt to taste

¼ teaspoon turmeric

½ teaspoon cumin seeds

2 tablespoons ghee

 

Wash and soak the rice and dal together for approximately ½ an hour to an hour. I have used split mung beans, but you can try this with other variants including pigeon pea/toor dal. Doing so will change the khichdi somewhat. Toor dal grains will separate like rice does, whereas split mung beans will create a thicker concoction.

Once soaked, discard the soaking water. Place the rice and dal in a pressure cooker along with the cooking water. Use a medium flame. Allow to cook for approximately 20 minutes or 3 whistles, or until the grains are tender and soft to touch.

Allow the pressure to decrease, then open the cooker.

In a small pan, add ghee. Once it is hot, add the cumin seeds. Let them fry until they change colour. Add this cumin-filled ghee to the khichdi. Stir gently and serve hot.

This grain series concludes with this simple and flavoursome recipe. I hope you’ve enjoyed trying out the gamut, from the work-intensive, “holiday special” seven-grain khichdo to the nourishing breakfast that is bajra ghensh, to this basic khichdi that is the ultimate go-to dish. Traditional Gujarati cuisine is something I’ve delved into many times on this blog, and I hope you’ll have a delicious time exploring a wide range of meals, snacks and desserts that I’ve shared here over the years.

After making the nutritious (and labourious) seven-grain khichdo to share with you last week, I felt inspired to do a short series of similar dishes. This series will showcase the versatility of the staple grains we consume, and the many ways they help make up the traditional Gujarati menu. So here is part two of this series: bajra ghensh, which uses the goodness of broken pearl millet. Pearl millet has been cultivated in India for thousands of years, and is a vital part of both the authentic Gujarati and authentic Tamil cuisines that I grew up surrounded by. As you may know, I truly believe in the revival of higher quantities of millet usage in our diets, especially as a preferred alternative to white rice, and have written many times about their value to us.

I’ve been spending more time with my sister recently, and as always this means exploring her cooking style and picking up new techniques to include in my own. As she sometimes does, she said to me the other day, “Come, I’ll teach you a new recipe.” Working alongside her in her kitchen, I was very surprised to discover that it wasn’t a new recipe to me at all, but only a different interpretation of one I knew well, and made for a different meal of the day. My sister prepares bajra ghensh as dinner, whereas for over three decades my mother-in-law and I have been eating it for breakfast.

What did I tell you about the versatility of millets? In this highly adaptable bajra ghensh, we see an example of how dishes themselves become versatile too depending on the choices of the cook and the habits of the one consuming the same. The method of preparing it, as either breakfast or dinner, is still less the same, but storage and serving determine the type of meal it becomes. It’s a very simple dish with three base ingredients and a generous helping of dry fruits and nuts.

Bajra ghensh wasn’t something we ate while we were growing up, and just as my sister was introduced to it after getting married, I too first encountered it thanks to my mother-in-law. I remember how when I first moved in, my mother-in-law would make it as a porridge or cereal to be had in the mornings, and I loved it from the start. Soon, I was frequently whipping up a big pot of it for both her and I and we would share it for breakfast. We both enjoyed it so much that we would have the same dish for two or three mornings in a row, without needing variety. This was the only way I’d ever eaten it, until my sister served it for dinner the other day.

As delicious as that was, to my mind this is still a breakfast dish, and so my recipe and my photographs here reflect this perspective. It’s a very healthy post-workout meal, and it’s an ideal replacement for supermarket cereals, which make tall claims about nutrition values but are usually full of processed ingredients and sugar. On the other hand, this is comparable only to the simplicity and goodness of whole oats. It is also gluten-free, for those who are making a dietary switch, but it is not dairy-free.

Traditionally, just like the seven-grain khichdo, bajra ghensh was also a winter dish. Pearl millet is warming and high in iron, and the Macrobiotic principle of darker grains being considered winter-friendly applies here. They are harder to digest, whereas in summer lighter grains like jowar and amaranth that are light on the stomach and easiest to digest are better, as per the time-honoured logic of seasonal culinary usages. As I said earlier, since I usually have bajra ghensh in the mornings, I’ve noticed that on days when I have done so, I tend to not become hungry again till at least lunch time or even later. A dish like this cancels out your snack cravings, which automatically increases its already high healthiness quotient.

Finding out that this works well both as a filling breakfast and as a heavy dinner, as well as making the connections with Indian seasonal logic and Macrobiotics, also made me ponder how my mother-in-law and I prepare this at night and store it in the fridge. Since this is a traditional recipe, this meant that in earlier times it could only have been made in winters, when the climate as well as the type of vessels used would allow it to be stored overnight. Only certain probiotic foods would be kept to be on eaten the following day (including homemade yoghurt). There could be no such thing as leftovers, and if there were there were resourceful ways to ensure that these were consumed quickly too. Particularly for Jains, wastage goes against religious philosophy and practice, so quantities are an important part of cooking methods. In the absence of refrigeration, and often with access issues or resource concerns to consider as well, creating perfect portions that satisfy the entire family without any excess is a special skill, and one that cooks across the centuries had to cultivate. It is only in our modern age that we can rely on certain conveniences.

So what happens is this: because of its thick consistency, this bajra ghensh sets when you keep it in the fridge. In the morning, take a chunk, add a bit of milk and have it as a cereal. Or else, prepare it in the evening and eat it hot, right off the stove and with no milk added for breakfast, just like a khichdo.

Bajra Ghensh

(Yield: 2 persons)

 

½ cup broken bajra (pearl millet)

1½ – 2 cups water

½ cup thick yoghurt

Salt to taste

20 grams kharek (dried dates)

10 grams dried coconut slices

10 grams cashew nuts

 

Clean, rinse and soak the broken bajra for 2-3 hours.

Once soaked, cook the bajra along with the 1½ cups of water in a pressure cooker until the grain is soft and tender. Open the pressure cooker lid when ready.

Place a kadai on a medium flame and pour the bajra into it. Now, add the yoghurt and stir continuously. Next, add the salt. Finally, add the dried nuts, dates and coconut and mix well.

This is the point at which you have a choice: today’s main meal, or tomorrow’s breakfast?

Let’s say you decide to have it for breakfast. Just pour the concoction into a container and set it aside for some time. As the bajra ghensh cools, it will solidify. Once it is at room temperature, refrigerate.

You don’t have to do anything the next morning but scoop out a portion into a bowl, add a little milk or buttermilk (which I prefer for the tang) and enjoy!

Do you have a recipe in your own repertoire that you’ve been making and having a certain way for ages, which you later found in an alternate rendition somewhere else? It’s always fascinating to me how the very same dish is prepared or consumed in different ways, depending not even on the community but just on the family or the person who does the cooking. I hope you’ll enjoy this bajra ghensh, and be sure to let me know which meal you had it for!