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Bhel is a popular Indian savoury snack, from the chaat or street food category, that is served dressed up in a number of ways. Sukha bhel, or dry bhel, is a simple way to have it. With a puffed rice base and some flavourings, it makes for a filling dish between meals. Many who enjoy this snack will have their own versions. So this is a sukha bhel, Nandi style. Lately, we have been having it at home with tea daily, so of course I wanted to share the same with you!

My husband has a habit of getting into one dish and becoming obsessed with it for about a year or so, during which he needs to eat it every single day (and then, eventually tiring of it, having had his fill and then some!). His current penchant is for this sukha bhel, and since it’s now a regular at our table, I try to make it as healthy as possible. You can take the nutritious route even with items that are conventionally regarded as unhealthy, such as most street foods. In fact, I have shared a green moong bhel in the past that was even healthier than this one, and I hope you’ll try that out too.

So if by chance you land up at my home between 5pm and 6pm on any given day, you’ll be served a nice helping of this sukha bhel. There will invariably be a tea cake from the re:store kitchen to accompany it, and maybe even the crispy butter cookies you read about last weekend. Of course, this special masala chai will waft its lovely aromas over the table too. Tempting, no? The best part is, whether you can drop by or not, you can prepare the entire tea time feast from scratch yourself. Every recipe I’ve mentioned is right here on this blog, for your own enjoyment.

There have been times when I watched what I eat like a hawk and felt guilty about every little thing that went into my mouth. Slowly, I recognised how unhealthy this habit was, and how it negated the supposed healthiness of trying to stick to any particular diet. So now and then, I say, “To hell with it!” and have a slice of cake with my bhel too. I know it won’t do me any harm, especially if I make adjustments at dinner time with portions and dish choices. Do you do anything similar, to ensure that you don’t miss out on the good stuff but also don’t compromise on sensible dietary choices?

Now, even though my husband craves this sukha bhel daily, I must admit that it is only in the second-best standing for him. The very best is the street-side bhel you find in Bombay, and I will concede that it tops mine. It’s my own favourite too. When I visit the city and am on my way to my sister’s home from the airport, I always stop and pick up an order along the way, and will have finished eating it before I’ve even arrived at her door! Simply wrapped in a piece of newspaper, with a puri in place of a spoon to scoop up the bhel, it really is unbeatable. I relish the very last bite, when I get to eat the “spoon” as well. That’s the best part, and this tantalizing mix of flavours is how every trip to Bombay begins for me.

Since this is a homemade sukha bhel, I load it up with vegetables. I also make a drier version than what you get outside, although the chutneys that give it its deliciousness are still key elements. A sweet chutney, a spicy one and a dash of lemon bring together all the ingredients that are detailed in the recipe below. The chutneys are staples in my refrigerator, and I’ve shared the recipes for both in prior posts as well, as you can see in the links below.

Sukha Bhel

(Serves 2-3)

 

½ cup chopped cucumber

½ cup chopped boiled potatoes

¼ cup finely chopped onions

¼ cup chopped mango

A squeeze of lemon

1½ cups bhel mix or roasted puffed rice

Black salt to taste

½ teaspoon roasted cumin powder

1 tablespoon tamarind/date chutney

½ teaspoon garlic chutney (optional)

Pomegranate arils for garnishing

Coriander leaves for garnishing

Small crispy puris

 

In a bowl, add all the cut vegetables. To this, add cumin powder, black salt, the chutneys and the lemon juice. Mix well.

Finally, add the bhel or puffed rice. Mix again. Garnish and serve immediately, else the bhel will get soggy.

I love to use finely cut raw mango in this sukha bhel for a tang, and this is an ingredient that we get pretty much all year round. I also use boiled potatoes, and decorate the dish with pomegranate arils for a hint of sweetness. Use the same if you wish to, or substitute as preferred. Similarly for the use of onions if you prefer. In lieu of regular salt, I use either black or pink salt, which gives the dish a distinct flavour. Add more bhel or puris for more of a crunch, if you like that. The fun in the preparation is really all about increasing or decreasing quantities, or adding or removing ingredients, based on your personal taste. The bhel and the chutneys are the base – the rest is up to you.

As for my personal taste, as well as my husband’s, this particular recipe is the one that hits the spot. The second-best sukha bhel – and the best outside of Bombay! I hope you’ll find it just as satisfying, and that it will be your own favourite after the Bombay chaatwallas’ too!

Butter biscuits were a bakery-made phenomenon for most families I knew when I was growing up. At that time, there were very few commercial brands on the market (with the exception of Parle-G and Marie) and even then, our little down-the-road bakers were the only ones most of us got our non-homemade confectionery and snacks from. No fancy names or special ingredients: just straightforward, reliably good biscuits that all of us school-going kids enjoyed. When my mother took a baking class, which was considered an unusual hobby at the time, she learned how to make butter biscuits too. I loved the way she made them – crispy, with a distinct flavour and taste. She taught me how to bake them the same way, and that recipe is the very same one I am sharing with you today.

My mother’s biscuits were just a little different from my neighbourhood bakery’s biscuits, and these in turn were just a little different from my college canteen’s biscuits too, as I’ll tell you about in a moment. Even when the recipe is the same, the hands that knead the dough always impart something unique. Every person who tries this recipe out will create their own version, imbued with some distinct signature. It’s just something that happens when it comes to baking, or indeed cooking of any kind.

Now, about those butter biscuits that were available at my college canteen: they were a mainstay of my undergraduate experience. Classes began at 7.30am and went on till 2pm, which meant that all of us students were much in need of a snack by the time our break came. We would rush down to the canteen and devour the butter biscuits they sold. These would be kept in a glass jar, from which they would be retrieved without gloves, and were usually split and shared. School and college feel like a simpler world, in which there was a sense of unity somehow. We all opened each others’ tiffin boxes, no one ever went hungry no matter how little she may have brought or have been able to afford, and we all seemed to have robust constitutions despite the lack of hygiene protocols we insist on now.

Those butter biscuits were among the many daily enjoyments we shared. We were mostly coffee drinkers by then, having reached young adulthood, and we’d enjoy our break times with coffee, butter biscuits, whatever was in our home-brought containers and lots of camaraderie before running back to class. Our coffee back then was plain South Indian filter coffee, too. There were no fancy variations available then, but just like this classic butter biscuit that we still return to even today, that traditional and common beverage is still the perfect pick-me-up for many of us.

 

I was a Fine Arts student and as soon as I graduated, I found a job at an advertising agency. In those days, nothing was computerized as yet, and we did all the work by hand. I was a designer, and I recall long hours of poring over my table, painstakingly creating ads for different companies. Break times were as much-awaited as they had been during college, and my colleagues and I would send one of the office assistants down the road to a local shop that had some fabulous butter biscuits. We would enjoy these with our coffee or tea before putting our thinking caps back on and getting back to our clients’ briefs. Like many young women of my generation, I left that job when I got engaged. In fact, my family had been against me going to work at all, but I had not wanted to stay at home and just wait to get married. I had enjoyed putting the skills I gained in college to good use, even if I was compensated only with a stipend of just Rs350 a month, which just about covered my bus fare! When I told my boss that I was quitting, he must have realised my value as an employee, for he offered to raise my stipend to a salary of Rs3000 a month. This was a princely sum in those days, but life had other plans for me, and while I left my designing career behind back then, my experience in the visual arts has certainly influenced my career as a photographer. Sometimes, when I shoot for a client, I recall that very first job as a fresh graduate with a smile.

In the present day, it’s my own butter biscuits that are my go-to whenever I take a break. I prepare them for my family all the time, and we relish them over tea. They’ve followed me through all these stages of my life, baked by various people along the way – each just a little different, with some slight change in the technique or the ingredients or simply the baker’s touch reflecting in the final taste. This one has a little hint of salt, and that’s one of the elements that I think makes it distinct for me.

This recipe I am sharing today may seem very familiar to you too. It’s a basic one with basic ingredients, and this is what I like about it. It’s the kind of snack that almost everyone would have had at some point in their life. Perhaps your own fond memories of butter biscuits and bakeries past will be evoked when you whip a batch up in your own kitchen! I’d love to hear about your reminiscences in the comments, and I hope you’ll share them.

Butter Biscuits

(Yield: Approximately 15 small biscuits)

 

100 grams unsalted butter

60 grams finely powdered sugar

120 grams maida

¼ teaspoon salt

½ teaspoon vanilla extract

Beat the butter and the sugar together until light and fluffy. Aerating the mixture makes for softer biscuits.

Once the mixture is fluffy, add the remaining ingredients and mix well with your hands.

Cover in cling film and refrigerate for 20-30 minutes.

Make rolls with the dough. Flatten slightly. I used a mound to press the individual dough rolls in, to give them a pretty look.

Bake in the oven for 12-15 minutes or until the biscuits turn slightly golden at the edges. They may appear partly white, but don’t worry. They will not be under done.

Transfer onto a wire mesh and allow to cool before you enjoy them.

How will you have them: as an accompaniment to tea or coffee, or on their own? I’d love to know. No matter how many snack companies line the supermarket shelves today, there’s nothing like a simple butter biscuit, freshly made. I wouldn’t be surprised if the delicious aroma of these butter biscuits fills your own kitchen on a regular basis soon!

Some years ago, I shared a recipe for a vegan lavender panna cotta, and this dessert has been on my mind yet again. This time however, the non-vegan variety is what I’ve been craving. Perhaps I am drawn to dairy in desserts because it is the basis of most Indian sweets, and therefore is a part of what I grew up eating. Although it is not Indian in origin, panna cotta certainly hits the spot as a milk-based, delicious sweet treat. It is light but satisfying, and I love that it lends itself to a range of flavours. While playing around with possible flavours, I hit on a combination that retains a sense of the regional. So here you have it: a saffron-pistachio-rose panna cotta.

While many people enjoy their panna cotta with a coulis made of berries, I prefer a pistachio topping. I find it complements the saffron. It’s is one of my favourite flavours, and when I make my pistachio cake at re:store (available in saffron, rose and classic variants), I often make a tiny cupcake for myself from the batter. This panna cotta therefore brings together all the flavours that I have tried, tested and tasted time and again and know work well with pistachio.

You may wish to use agar-agar if you prefer, but I find that this substitute just doesn’t give the dessert the jiggle that gelatine does. If you ask me, a good panna cotta should jiggle. Perhaps it’s just a matter of presentation, but as I’ve said often, presentation is key when it comes to sweet treats. The eye eats first.

Remember that you can make sugar-free and vegan panna cottas, using any medium (almond milk, coconut milk, etc). I often do. Today, however, I felt indulgent… The saffron I used was some absolutely beautiful Spanish saffron that dear friends who live in Spain gave me when they visited. So many friends of mine scattered across the globe tend to bring gifts that can be used at re:store or in my kitchen. The lavender in my previous panna cotta recipe was a gift as well. I’m grateful to have these delectable ingredients, alongside my local and seasonal ones.

A pinch of Spanish saffron, with distinctly Indian touches of pistachio and rose water… And yet it’s memories of a trip to Rome that emerged as I prepared this lovely dessert. Wherever we went, we gorged on authentic panna cotta, tiramisu and gelato. Reminiscing on my Italian sojourn must have been what inspired me to become interested in making ice cream. As I’ve said on this blog before, I consider myself an eternal student, and I’m literally going to sign up for a course. Isn’t it wonderful how food is a way to travel, especially in these difficult times when travel is sometimes not possible, or just not what it used to be? It’s all the more special when we are able to evoke memories or aspirations of travel right in our very own kitchens.

Saffron-Pistachio-Rose Panna Cotta

(Serves 4)

Panna Cotta

7 grams gelatine

3 tablespoons cold water (to soak)

1 cup cream

1½ cups whole milk

13 cup sugar

A pinch of salt

½ teaspoon saffron + 1 tablespoon milk

 

Pistachio Topping

¼ cup shelled, toasted and sliced pistachio

 

Rose Cream

½ cup whipping cream

1 teaspoon rose water

 

Soak the gelatine in cold water for about ten minutes. Soak the saffron in milk.

In the meanwhile, add the cream, milk and sugar along with the salt in a saucepan. Allow to cook on a medium flame, stirring occasionally.

When the mixture is ready to boil, add the soaked saffron. Bring to a boil and turn off the flame.

Allow to rest for about ten minutes, and then add the bloomed gelatine. Due to the heat, the gelatine will melt. Stir well, pour into a mould and set overnight in the refrigerator.

When you are ready to serve the panna cotta, prepare the topping of rose cream. Whip the ingredients together in a bowl until you get soft peaks, or the consistency that you prefer.

Now, it’s time to assemble the dessert. Dip the mould in which the panna cotta has set in warm water. Turn it upside down onto a serving plate. Garnish the panna cotta with a sprinkling of pistachio, a dollop of the whipped rose cream and rose petals if you have them. You will have an aromatic, alluring-looking dish, replete with a plethora of flavours. You can keep this saffron-pistachio-rose panna cotta in the refrigerator for 3-5 days. It’s a perfect dish to prepare in advance when you are expecting guests, and it is sure to wow them visually too.

Saffron, pistachio and rose are international flavours as well as Indian ones, and I hope that they are easily available to you. The panna cotta base is beautifully adaptable, so you’ll easily be able to swap any of them out if you don’t have something on hand.

Aside from how gorgeous it is to the eye and how delicious it is to savour, what I like most about this dish is that it is a symbol of how food can make the world a smaller place. As we span worlds and cuisines, here’s an ongoing wish for the end of the pandemic and for us all to be able to communicate, commute, share and care again as easily as we did before.

As I’ve been whining over so many recent posts, I’m on a stay-off-carbs personal menu and this can sometimes be quite a challenge! The key is in creating meals that are not only healthy but also delicious, even as one watches what one eats. Here is another recipe in this category, a breakfast egg stir-fry that I have quite often.

While eggs are what I usually make this dish with, I sometimes substitute them with paneer or tofu, depending on the mood of the morning. The lovely part of this recipe is that whether you make it a vegan one or an egg-based one, it gives you a protein high that will carry you through your tasks all the way till lunch time. It’s perfect for a post work-out breakfast, and it also happens to be grain-free – just what the doctor prescribed!

It is said that a high protein diet helps you cut down on your sugar cravings. I’ve seen this proved true, in terms of my body’s own requirements. It’s no secret that I have an incredible sweet tooth, as the plethora of desserts I’ve shared will show you, if not my penchant for baking for others. Let me let you in on something: there was a time when I used to bake a tiny little cupcake using the batter of every cake order, under the pretext of ‘tasting’ it. Needless to say, that was quite a few tiny little cupcakes enjoyed, all in the name of quality control! I no longer do this, and I suspect that including more protein in my morning meal may well be the reason why.

That’s not to say that I restrict myself. I only mean that I no longer have an irrepressible sweet tooth. When I do indulge myself, it is mindfully done. The lovely variety of cake orders I’ve been fulfilling lately – a celebratory red velvet, a vegan vanilla lavender, a sugar-free date, an eggless almond – have certainly inspired me to make those tiny little cupcakes on the side for myself too. One should give in to temptation now and then, as long as it is within the limits of one’s overall healthy eating plan. If you feel like a slice or two of cake, I’d be more than happy to bake you one, and you’re welcome to tease me about the tiny cupcake on the side. Get in touch!

There are always reasons why our bodies crave any kind of food, be it sugar or spice or something else altogether. Listen to your body, understand what it’s really asking for, and give it the right nourishment. As is famously said, you are what you eat.

To return to the subject of our protein cravings and needs, it isn’t true that vegetarians or vegans have trouble meeting this quotient. I tend to eat a largely vegetarian or vegan diet, but flexibly so. Whether I put eggs, tofu or paneer into this dish is entirely a question of that day’s likes or dislikes. I’m a moody eater, and can be put off even by favourite ingredients for phases, just as I can be obsessive about certain ingredients for phases. I find that listening to my body’s likes and dislikes is a part of healthy eating, and it’s a skill I learned slowly. Healthy eating is never just about the ingredients or portions alone.

Egg Stir-Fry

(Serves 2)

 

1 tablespoon olive oil

½ cup finely chopped onions

3 boiled eggs (sliced)

2 cups chopped veggies (broccoli, bell peppers)

Salt to taste

½ teaspoon amchur powder (optional)

½ teaspoon garam masala

1 pinch of turmeric

½ teaspoon roasted cumin powder

¼ teaspoon black pepper powder

A generous sprinkling of coriander leaves

Heat a pan and add the olive oil. Now, add the onions and vegetables. Many vegetables complement eggs, so add whatever you prefer. Personally, I avoid starchy ones and use bell peppers and broccoli quite often. It’s a combination I like, and so I usually stick to it. Tomatoes are also a good choice, so do toss them in if you enjoy them.

Stir on a high flame until golden, then add the spices.

Mix well. Finally, add the boiled eggs. Garnish with the coriander leaves, and serve. Enjoy this delicious start to your day!

If you’re a fan of eggs, you may also want to try out a somewhat more extravagant (or should that be eggs-travagant?) and extremely filling Middle Eastern/North African dish known as the shakshouka, my recipe for which I shared here. As always, I’d love to know your thoughts!

 

I literally grew up under a star gooseberry tree – the very same tree that you may know as amla or nellika. I loved the fruit of that tree so much that I braved its hairy inhabitants, known in Tamil as kambili poochis (blanket worms, a type of caterpillar that becomes a moth). These small creatures have a self-protection mechanism of dropping their spiky, needle-like hairs onto the skin of predators or threats – such a little girl greedy for some ripe fruit! How many times would I have run crying to my mother with one hand full of green star gooseberries and the other one holding the sore spot lanced by caterpillar hairs? She would painstakingly have to remove each one, and this was a pretty frequent occurrence. Even caterpillars could not keep me away from the fruit that I craved!

Although a long time has passed since then, I still have a star gooseberry tree in my home now. Like all native trees that seemed to be everywhere in Chennai when I was growing up, they are scarcer now, and I cultivate those in my backyard with care. I repeatedly tell my children stories about my misadventures with the caterpillars that lived on the one in my childhood home, mostly because I don’t see them any longer. I wonder if this has something to do with urban pollution, and with how we are misusing our planet. We as human beings are responsible for the disappearing bees, and the extinction of so many other species. Even though the caterpillars can literally hurt me, they are proof of the health of this planet, and I hope to see them crawling in my garden again some day.

The variant of the gooseberry tree I have at home is the same as the one I grew up with. It is the ribbed or ridged star gooseberry (nellika), not the softer, more rounded amla. They are closely related fruits and you can use either one in this recipe. I prefer the star gooseberry for its sour taste, whereas the amla has a hint of bitterness. I enjoy this fruit so very much that I don’t just eat it plain, but incorporate it into my cooking as well. This star gooseberry rice is a wonderful way to bring its unique flavour into your meals. Pickling is another great idea, given the fruit’s naturally intense taste.

The best-known benefit of all Indian gooseberries is that they have a very high Vitamin C quotient. They are also very good for fighting sinus-related issues, boosting immunity, beautifying skin and hair and improving digestion. The leaves and roots of the tree also have a long list of uses in traditional medicines, in anti-viral, anti-venom, analgesic and other capacities.

This post came together between a friend mentioning eating star gooseberry rice one day, a trip down memory lane about those hairy caterpillars, and more recent memories from journeys around India.

On some of my travels, I have noticed gooseberry-shaped artistic motifs in borders and jalis at different monuments and temples across India – including even at the Taj Mahal – and this made me think about how India has always been a land of plenty. I understood that these motifs of so many common culinary and botanical elements that we take for granted – including not just star gooseberries but pomegranates, mangoes and a great variety of flora and fauna as well – are ways to celebrate that bounty, depicting the amazing harvests that grow here. Among all our many exotic mysteries and riches, the natural wealth of India attracted so many to our shores, and still does. We have so much to be proud about.

Star Gooseberry Rice

(Serves 2)

2 tablespoons sesame oil

2 tablespoons groundnuts

¼ teaspoon methi seeds

¼ teaspoon mustard seeds

¼ teaspoon cumin seeds

½ teaspoon channa dal

½ teaspoon urad dal

1 green chilli

2 cups cooked rice

Salt to taste

A pinch turmeric

A few curry leaves

4 grated star gooseberries

1 grated tablespoon coconut

Finely chopped coriander leaves (garnishing)

In a kadai, add oil. Once it has heated, add the groundnuts and allow them to splutter. Next, add the mustard seeds, cumin seeds, channa dal, urad dal, methi, green chilli, grated coconut and curry leaves. Mix well. Now, add the grated Indian gooseberries – whichever variant you have on hand or prefer.

Once the mixture turns lightly golden, add the rice, salt and turmeric. Stir well.

Garnish with the coriander leaves and serve.

I hope you’ll enjoy that unique flavour of this star gooseberry rice. If you’re a fan of rice dishes in general and are always looking to spice up your plain steamed rice, you may want to explore the many recipes I’ve shared earlier that do exactly this. Raw mango rice, dill rice or spinach rice make for exciting daily staples. Vegetable biryani is perfect for a small celebration. If you want something a little more exotic, this glutinous black sticky rice with mango is quite a delight. Do try them out and let me know what you think!

I have been seeing these gorgeous lilac drinks being made and beautifully captured by food bloggers abroad this summer, and have been so enamoured by their vivid colour and the extremely pretty flowers. I admired them, a little wistful that lilacs do not grow here, only to quickly realise that we too have a glorious abundance of plants and blooms. In the tropics, and especially here in India, we have just as much colour, flavour, texture and taste – if not more? – to captivate our senses. I have written in the past about my love for manoranjitha, oosi malli, shenbagha and other native flowers, some of which have faded from memory and many of which I’ve been trying to grow both on our farm and at home. These musings led me to remember the perfect local equivalent to lilacs, the plant (and specifically, the fruit rather than the flower) that could let me create an eye-catchingly vibrant beverage as well: jamun.

Also known as Java plum and Indian blackberry, jamun is indigenous to this region. The fruit is prized for a range of health benefits. These include: reducing blood sugar levels, improving cardiac health and haemoglobin production, assisting the digestive and immune systems and regulating blood pressure. It has a cooling effect, and it’s wonderful that its season is at the cusp between the summer and the monsoon, when it can simultaneously beat the heat while building immunity for the upcoming rains. It has a unique umami-like taste, which people either like or don’t (similar to the love-it-or-loathe-it jackfruit, which also happens to be in season now).

Here in Chennai, we all grew up with jamun trees around us, that we ate from directly. They were literally in our own backyards and in the neighbourhood. We consumed only local fruits in those years – bananas, mangoes, jamun, jackfruit (and of course, if we were lucky to get away to the hills, the summer bounty of fruits and vegetables there, which I’ve talked about here). Even fruits like litchees that grew in North India didn’t make their way to our markets, and some of the produce that has since been cultivated in the hills (like strawberries) had not yet been introduced. Now, of course, the market is full of exotic imports. But when I see the exorbitant prices on a pack of foreign raspberries, for instance, I sometimes wonder why I’d reach out for it when the Indian blackberry and other local fruits are right here – accessible, nourishing and delicious?

On the subject of local plants, I’ve just redone my little garden and it has truly become a place of joy and solace for me. Full of lushness and greenery, it has a pleasant clime despite the heat. I love hanging out there, either by myself or with my family. We have had some beautiful, quiet dinners there, in that intimate and special space. At other times, I sit by myself and read a book as I sip on a nice beverage. If someone hollers for me and I’m nowhere to be found in my house, I am definitely in this sanctuary of mine. It was my birthday a few days ago, and it was where I was able to have both moments of contemplation as well as moments of celebration. With a glass of this fabulous jamun drink by my side, of course.

Jamun (Indian Blackberry) Drink

(Yield: approximately 4 glasses)

 

300 grams jamun

2-3 cups cold water

Black salt to taste

Sugar or jaggery (optional)

¼ teaspoon roasted cumin powder

 

De-seed the berries and put them in a blender along with the salt, cold water and cumin powder. The amount of water you use depends on the consistency you prefer. Use a sweetener if you’d like to. Blend well.

Strain into the glasses, add an optional topping of mint leaves – and then go to the sweet, safe spot in your home that’s your “happy place” and relax! Let’s raise a toast to good things ahead for us, which we all so richly deserve.

This jamun drink can be very filling, so portion sizes are important. You can thin it with more water, or else have a smaller glass of thick juice. With jamun, as with many other highly flavourful items, there can be such a thing as too much of a good thing. In my case, when I enjoy something, I can sometimes eat such a lot of it or have it so often that I feel sick of it after a point. So as wonderful and stunningly attractive as this drink is, I do take care to have a just-right portion.

There you have it, a lovely seasonal drink, just perfect to enjoy as the summer begins to turn to the monsoon. If you’re someone who enjoys discovering new thirst-quenchers, I hope you’ll explore the various beverages I’ve shared on this blog over the years.

As I said, for me, making this jamun drink all began with that enchanting colour – about which these photographs really say it all. But thinking about it a little more, I wondered if there are other ways I can bring this fruit into my meals? Do you have any jamun recipes you can share with me?

Dairy is a huge part of the pan-Indian diet, and among its many forms, buttermilk is consumed across the length and breadth of the country during the summer. It is mentioned in Ayurvedic texts as a coolant, and provably has this effect on the body. In lore, it was among the delicious goods that Krishna often stole from the cowherds, with his mother Yashoda usually discovering his theft quickly and reprimanding him for it. It has been in our history and mythology for millennia, and in our kitchens as well. A few years ago, I shared a recipe for spiced buttermilk, and today I am sharing one for a flavoured variant: banana stem buttermilk.

As I mentioned in a recent recipe, my mother made butter at home while we were growing up, and its sour residual buttermilk was used in kadhi and other dishes. As a beverage, I prefer my buttermilk less sour and make it with fresh homemade yoghurt, which you can also get into a daily routine of preparing yourself.

How the straightforward buttermilk that I regularly consume came to be pepped up with banana stem is really a photographer’s story. Some time ago, I had been preparing banana stem poriyal, a Tamil stir-fry side dish, when something caught my eye as I was slicing the ingredient. A beautiful geometric pattern (designed by Nature) along the edges of the stem captivated me. I was moved to pause my cooking and pick up my camera. Somehow, as I worked, the thought of adding the ingredient to our regular post-lunch buttermilk occurred to me. From stir-fry to shoot subject to summer heat-buster, the humble banana stem had quite a journey in my hands that day.

Though it is humble indeed, and sometimes neglected for this reason, banana stem is a much-loved ingredient in Tamil cuisine due to its powerful health benefits. It is most famous for being able to dissolve kidney stones, and also has anti-diabetic and detoxification properties. It is rich in iron, fibre, potassium and Vitamin B. It can be eaten raw, but not everyone’s constitution reacts well to this, so you can lightly steam it before consumption without losing much of its nutritious qualities too. Although I was inspired that day to put my photographic muse into my afternoon drink, it was not a brainwave that simply came out of nowhere. Somewhere in my growing years, at some friend’s house or another, I certainly drank banana stem buttermilk. As a local, accessible and inexpensive ingredient, it has always been put to good use by cooks over the centuries.

As mentioned, we have buttermilk with our summer lunches daily, or else a banana. Either a drink to cool the body down, or else the fruit of the same plant to assist with digestion. This was the case when I was a child as well, when my mother would prepare plain buttermilk that was seasoned with nothing but salt and cumin powder. During the summers, our school holiday time, we would play with our neighbourhood friends in the afternoon, climbing trees and tiring ourselves out in a happy way, then have a glass of this and go off for a siesta. The drink was especially vital because it would also be mango season. Mangoes in high quantities increase body heat. Of course, we would have gorged on them, so something had to be consumed to counter this.

Buttermilk really is a summer beverage for so many reasons, and I always find it interesting and awe-inspiring how Nature laid everything out for us in such a way that there is always a seasonal logic. Isn’t it marvellous that yoghurt just takes 3-4 hours to set at this time of year, when it is a more necessary part of our diets, as opposed to needing to set overnight in winter? To this natural design, we also add our common sense: we consume cooling buttermilk during the day, when the sun is high, and not at dinner time.

As a Gujarati born and brought up in Tamil Nadu, bringing the local banana stem into my traditional buttermilk was an intuitive choice. You can make it with other flavours too. The sweetened version of this drink, the lassi, is similarly versatile, and you may remember a fruity version from my recent mango series.

Banana Stem Buttermilk

(Yield: 2 cups)

1 cup chopped banana stem

2 cups yoghurt

1 piece ginger

¼ teaspoon asafoetida

A few curry leaves

A handful of chopped coriander leaves

1 green chilli

½ teaspoon roasted cumin powder

Salt to taste

2 -3 cups water

Juice of half a lime/lemon

Chop the banana stem and soak the pieces in water. Set aside while you prepare the other ingredients. If you tend to find consuming raw banana stem difficult on your digestion, lightly steam it beforehand.

In a bowl, prepare the yoghurt by adding salt and cumin powder. Add 2 ½ cups water and beat well. Keep aside.

Discard the water that the chopped banana stem was soaking in. Put the chopped stem pieces into a blender. Add the green chili, coriander leaves, asafoetida, ginger and curry leaves. Add the remaining ½ cup water and blend well. The quantity of water you use depends on how thick you want your beverage. Then, strain the thick purée into the prepared buttermilk. Add a dash of lime/lemon juice, for a bit of a sour tang.  Beat well. Consume immediately, before it starts to change colour.

I hope you’ll enjoy this nutritious banana stem buttermilk! I’ve shared quite a few summery beverages over the years, and here are some more recipes for your enjoyment too, shared with good wishes for your health and well-being: strawberry-rose smoothie, barley lime drink, rose sherbet and curry leaf and raw mango cooler.

It’s an ongoing story of mine that I’m avoiding carbs, but I confess that I’m sneaking them in from time to time. To beat this craving, I’ve been reaching out for more smoothies than ever, as they are very filling, thus cancelling out the carb craving, and also take care of my protein needs. I always add a fruit of some kind, and with strawberries being in season right now, and a beautiful bounty of them in my fridge, they have been an obvious choice these days. Of course, this vegan strawberry-rose smoothie is also perfect for beating the summer heat!

This recipe features one of my all-time favourite elements – rose – and, all in all, it makes for a wonderfully uplifting and healthy beverage. Regular re:store customers will know that I’m obsessed with the flavour and that it’s a signature of mine. I have just not had my fill of adding rose to everything, and I hope that you will also enjoy its intoxicating aroma and delicate taste in this recipe just as much. But this is not just indulgence. This smoothie is vegan, and I usually use almond milk or oats milk (you can even just use water). It is also ideal for exercise enthusiasts like me, and lately I’ve been keeping a tall glass of it ready in my fridge as my post-workout boost each morning.

The rose plays so well with the strawberries, so while the drink itself may look a little bland, it is very flavourful. To offset the visual nondescriptness of the drink, however, I ensure that I serve it elegantly. The glassware that I use in these photos aren’t just props. During this lockdown, I’ve begun to use for our daily meals all the special crockery, cutlery and other serving ware that are usually saved for important occasions. I try to dress everything up, including myself. Even though I don’t leave the house, I put on clothing that makes me feel confident. Even though it’s just us family at home, I ensure the presentation of meals is just as attractive as it would be if we had guests over. I feel that these small things make a big difference. We should enjoy life, every day. Why wait? This is one of the many lessons of the pandemic.

So, my friends, let me encourage you to do the same. Don’t wait for the day when you will next be entertaining. Don’t wait for a celebration. Put up those beautiful curtains that you promised yourself you would deck your windows with when the lockdown lifts. Take the good porcelain out of storage, and see for yourself how it brightens the vibe at the dining table. Unfurl that gorgeous handmade bedspread you were saving for the guest bedroom and enjoy a hearty nap on it. All the carefully chosen things that have lain in cupboards for years deserve to be enjoyed, and you deserve to enjoy them! Use them, flaunt them, let them give you joy!

Bring more life into your home with small planters. A touch of green here and there not only adds beauty and freshness, but also helps purify the air. You don’t need a whole garden for this: old kitchen utensils are lovely spots to grow money plants and other low-maintenance greenery. The daily act of nurturing the plant is itself so fulfilling.

This is self-care, not selfishness. We must learn to do things for our own pleasure, to lift our own spirits. Live for today. Live for right now. We never know what may happen tomorrow, so we may as well enjoy what we have, when we have it.

So yes, this is just a recipe for a simple smoothie. But how I make it, how I serve it for myself (choosing a different cup or glass every day from my collection), how I set the table if I’m having it over a chat with a family member, how I put on some music as we share bigger meals together – these are the things that pep me up, keep me going, and help to create pleasant experiences even during a time that is frightening and difficult. This is what it means to bring positivity and hope into our day-to-day lives. It’s all about the small things, and showing gratitude by enjoying those small things. I really hope that the few minutes of your day in which you prepare and relish this vegan strawberry-rose smoothie will be one of those small things for you, too.

Vegan Strawberry-Rose Smoothie

(Yield: 2 small cups)

 

8-10 strawberries

2 tablespoons powdered almonds

Your preferred quantity of protein powder

2 cups almond milk (or milk of your choice)

1 teaspoon chia seeds

A drizzle of honey or maple syrup or a date (optional)

Rose extract

Rose petals to garnish (optional)

 

Simply put all the ingredients into a blender, and blend well. Make sure you use powdered almonds – that’s the trick to perfecting the texture, ensuring that there are no chunks. You may later garnish the drink with some whole or broken nuts, if you’d like more texture. You may eliminate the rose ingredients if you prefer and just enjoy the strawberries’ flavour on their own. The chia seeds make the drink deliciously creamy, in addition to bringing their numerous health benefits to it, so I would suggest that you retain them.

Pour into a glass and enjoy. Don’t forget to refrigerate it first, if you prefer it cool, or just add some ice if you’re in a hurry.

I hope this nourishing beverage brings some sweetness your way this summer. You may remember that I shared a different strawberry smoothie recipe last year too. I hope you’ll try both out and tell me which one you prefer and why, in the comments. One can never get enough of strawberry season – so why not?

When I shared this recipe for a dhokla made of green moong a couple of years ago, I had mentioned that Gujaratis are so famous for this item of food that it’s what we are stereotypically called. “Hey, dhokla!” – there is hardly a Gujarati who hasn’t heard this phrase, just as there is hardly a Gujarati who doesn’t, as stereotyped, love this dish. Dhoklas are a kind of savoury cake, spongy in texture. There are numerous varieties of dhoklas, and the khaman dhokla (yellow in colour, and made with channa dal) is the most popular one, and the one you may be acquainted with from restaurants. But the one that Gujaratis mostly consume at home is the white dhokla, which I am sharing the recipe for today.

There are two kinds of white dhoklas: a version that is more tedious to prepare, which entails washing rice, drying it in the sun and then powdering it. My mother would make these traditional rice flour dhoklas often, but for a quick go-to it was always the rava dhokla. The rava dhokla is the other version of white dhokla, and the recipe that I’ll share today. It tastes quite similar to the rice flour dhokla, and has a quick and easy process. It makes for a light dinner, or as a tasty snack when you have company, and is often had with garlic chutney or a sweet mango pickle.

As you may know from some of my photography, I love antique kitchen objects. They are not only subjects or props to me, but are functional too. I have an old dhokla maker, one that feels like it has always been with me. I cannot remember when it entered my kitchen. Similar to an idly cooker, except flat, it has a set of plates stacked on top of each other. The dhoklas are steamed on these, then cut and served.

To be honest, I don’t use my dhokla maker very often because I don’t make dhoklas at home frequently, even though we all enjoy this dish very much. I think this is because, for me, the perfect dhokla was always my mother’s. Even when she became really old and would rarely cook, and I would send her all her meals, I would ask her to prepare just dhoklas for me. With great love, she and I had a recurrent jesting conversation in which I would make fun of her – “What’s this, why are you sitting around? Time to start training for a marathon! Or how about getting started on the cooking, and make me some dhoklas?” I would say, and she would laugh, or offer one of her famous smiles – to be followed shortly by a mouthwatering beautiful treat. My sister’s dhoklas are a close second, but as for me, I am still learning – and as always, eager to share what I know.

That reminds me also of how, not so long ago when we were all still zipping up and down the country and around the world with ease, I would pack dhoklas for short flights of under three or four hours. They travel well as they don’t need accompaniments, and the best part is that they don’t have a strong smell. The whole plane doesn’t find out that you’re eating dhoklas when you open your lunchbox. So I’d fly off to Mumbai, eating my own dhoklas in the air, and when I arrived, my sister would be ready to serve me a fresh batch of her own.  I guess it’s true what they say: no matter where we are, Gujaratis can’t get enough of a good dhokla.

White Dhokla

(Yield: Serves 2)

 

1 cup rava

½ cup yoghurt

1 cup + ½ cup water

Salt to taste

1 tablespoon oil

½ teaspoon ENO fruit salt

½ teaspoon green chili-ginger paste

 

Tempering:

2-3 tablespoons oil

¼ teaspoon mustard seeds

¼ teaspoon cumin seeds

A few curry leaves

 

In a bowl, add rava, yoghurt, 1 cup of water, salt, green chili-ginger paste and oil. Mix well. You will get a thick batter. Set this aside for at least half an hour.

Now, the batter would have thickened further. It needs to be of the consistency of idly batter, so add the remaining half cup of water if required.

Add the ENO fruit salt and gently mix the batter. At this point, it will be frothing.

Prepare the dhokla cooker / plates by greasing them. Then, pour the batter into the plates and steam for about 20-25 minutes with the lid on.

Remove the plates from the cooker once the batter has cooked. Allow to cool.

Finally, temper the dhokla. For this, heat the oil and add the mustard seeds and cumin seeds. Allow them to splutter, then add the curry leaves. Immediately, pour this hot mixture over the dhokla.

Cut and serve plain or with accompaniments of your choice. Once again, I would recommend trying out one or all of the three dips in my recent Indian condiments series. The raw mango thovayal, the lasun ki chutney or the ginger chutney will beautifully elevate the soft, spongy dhokla. I hope you’ll enjoy this delicious white dhokla – and that it will make you clearly understand why we Gujaratis love it so much! If you do, don’t forget to try out the green moong dhokla variant too. Let me know which one you prefer!

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!