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Being resourceful in the kitchen comes naturally to many of us, and I’m someone who has long included homemade flours and powders and organic produce as parts of my everyday cooking. To me, preparing big batches of dishes that keep well and can be reheated is just the smart thing to do. I’ve noticed that canning is a culinary and DIY trend that has really been catching on on social media. I admire the trend as it takes a lot of hard work, and requires being inventive and patient. I think it’s similar in some ways to the Indian art of pickling. I don’t seem to have the talent for canning, but I do the next best thing and make a delicious tomato purée that can be kept for several days, and used in several ways. The wonderful part of it is that it’s a very versatile item. This all-purpose tomato purée works in myriad cuisines effortlessly.

It suits kids’ cravings, adults’ larger appetites, and everything from Continental meals for those with a wide palate and traditional Indian dishes for those seeking comfort food. That it can be stored for a while is a big plus. My daughter who lives in Mumbai insists that I bring her a batch whenever I visit her, or packs a big jar into her luggage each time she returns there from home, and uses it for over the course of a whole week.

When I’m in a hurry for a curry, I just take the jar or pot out of the fridge and have a readymade base on which to build the dish. The same goes for when there’s a request for a homemade pizza, or more likely a pasta – my son is notorious for changing his mind, and my menu, last minute! So it’s great that I have something that works both ways.  Sometimes, I’ll scoop a dollop of this tomato purée into minestrone soup as well (the recipe for it will follow sometime soon).

That’s why having an all-purpose key product helps me so much. It cuts down on the prep time regardless of what I’m making that day. My tomato purée imitates the famous pasta sauce called ragú, except it is vegetarian whereas the traditional Italian recipe is meat-heavy.

What makes this tomato purée extra special is that we’ve been growing the tomatoes ourselves on our terrace. I often talk about our farm and the varieties of produce and plants we grow there, and it’s really special to me that I get to bring some of that spirit back home too. Once you get a knack for gardening, you realise just how easy is it to cultivate some of the staples we reach for in our kitchens often. Many people I know grow herbs, vegetables and even fruit trees, which go directly into their diets. We are currently enjoying an abundant harvest of tomatoes, and are putting these lovely vegetables (or more accurately, fruits) to good use in a wide variety of dishes.

I guess you could say that while I haven’t yet found the talent for canning the way the Instagrammers do it, I’ve definitely had the patience to develop other culinary skills. Tending to homegrown produce is one, and making sourdough is another. Those of you who have followed my own IG stories for a while now would have noticed my eventual success in making that complicated bread! Whenever it’s pasta night at home, I put some into the oven and bake it an hour before dinnertime. A fresh, warm loaf accompanied by this tomato purée as a dip is served alongside delicious plates of pasta, which themselves are rich with this purée in the sauce. Now, I have my sights on mastering a sourdough base for pizza. My homemade pizza has been a hit in my household ever since my kids were little, and my daughter would often take some to school (to promptly exchange for spinach rice!). Her friends still ask me for some when they all visit together, and I’d love to surprise them with a sourdough twist to their childhood favourite soon. Made, of course, with this all-purpose tomato purée as a pizza sauce. Wish me luck, and be sure to follow my journey of trials, errors and triumphs on social media!

 

All-Purpose Tomato Purée

(Yield: 1 jar)

½ kilogram tomatoes

150 grams onions

4-5 garlic cloves

Salt to taste

1 teaspoon sugar (optional)

¼ teaspoon basil powder

2 tablespoons olive oil

1 teaspoon paprika

Roast the tomatoes over a flame until the skin is charred. Discard the skin and purée the tomatoes in a blender. Set aside.

Purée the onion in a blender along with the garlic cloves.

Heat a pan and add the olive oil. Then, add the puréed onion mixture and sauté till it turns golden. Next, add the tomato purée and mix well. Keep the flame to a medium heat and stir occasionally, making sure that the mixture does not stick to the bottom and sides. Be careful as the purée will soon start to bubble. Reduce the flame intermittently. When the purée begins to reduce, add the remaining ingredients and stir well.

Some notes on adjusting the ingredients to suit your taste: change the proportion of onions or garlic depending on how you like them, substitute chili powder for paprika if that’s your preference, and adding a sprinkling of fresh basil towards the end of the reduction adds a nice flavour, if you have that ingredient on hand.

Reduce the purée until it is thick and spreadable, or to the consistency you desire.

Allow to cool and store in a glass jar in the fridge. This all-purpose tomato purée lasts for approximately a week, and up to ten days with good storage. As it keeps well, you can also adjust all the proportions to make a batch in a size that’s ideal for all the ways you may use it over the course of a week.

Whether it’s a pasta, a pizza, a sandwich, or even an Indian curry with a hint of Mediterranean flavours, this all-purpose tomato purée just adds so much convenience to my regular cooking. I’d love to know if you try it out, and I’d especially love to hear about the creative ways in which you add it to your own menu!

Strawberries are in season right now, and are easily available at my regular grocery outlets, and I know this is true for many Indian cities. I love tossing a few of these sweet fruits into the blender, along with a fantastic mix of healthy ingredients, to whip up a smoothie in no time. I’m not a great fan of green smoothies, especially ones which involve raw spinach! While I know they are good for us, I have had an aversion to them ever since I once fell sick after having one. It’s interesting how memory and food are so strongly correlated. Our experience of food becomes a memory, and informs our next experience of the same item. But this fun, fruity smoothie is only a repository of goodness for me.

I highly recommend smoothies if you are currently going carb-free or observing a thoughtful diet. They pack a lot of nutrition into a single glass and are very filling. There comes a point when one realises the value of eating healthy and age-appropriately. This is especially important for women who undergo many physiological changes with age. Chia seeds and flax seeds are two ingredients which are particularly beneficial for us, lowering the risks of certain cancers, balancing the hormones and providing nutrition that addresses post-menopausal needs. You can sprinkle these onto salads or lightly onto various dishes, incorporating them into daily meals. I am also keen on innovative ways that centre them as major ingredients. You may remember my take on the trendy chia seed pudding here.

As with my recent stir-fry recipe and so many others that have been shared on this blog over the years, this smoothie recipe is highly adaptable based on personal tastes and dietary needs. For example, my son likes an addition of protein powder in his smoothies. I personally not only hate the taste but am against such chemical supplements, so you’ll never find the same in mine. When I find that I’m in need of a protein boost, I head for these overnight oats or a similar recipe. The use of natural ingredients is important to me, and I don’t like to compromise on this.

This smoothie is based on flaxseed meal and chia seeds, with an eclectic and ever-changing mix of other ingredients. I prepare it through the year, so while strawberry is my current star, I will substitute the base fruit depending on what is seasonal. What’s fresh and being harvested right now matters, as well as what I used to call my mood or state of mind, but which I now recognise as something deeper. I’ve come to understand that what we think of as cravings can sometimes be needs. When your body is asking for a dish, it is sometimes because of the need for a specific ingredient, and its positive effects. The healing or nourishing benefits of that ingredient may be what my body requires each time I feel an urge for a particular taste. We must learn how to listen to our bodies well so that we can identify the underlying need and address it. This means that I may add a bit of turmeric or ginger to my smoothie on certain days, because there’s an extra boost my body is asking for.

My craving for this smoothie itself sometimes reflects my body’s desire for sugar, and I find that this is one of the healthier ways to meet it – through fruits. It’s a great appetite-sater between meals. Nowadays, I often have it for breakfast, or in the evenings if I’ve eaten a complete meal in the morning instead.

As I said earlier, there’s presently an abundance of strawberries in hill stations all over India, and they are plentiful in our urban supermarkets. I believe strawberries are the easiest berry variety to grow in our climes, and they must be a newer crop as they don’t form a major part of my memories of school holiday summers in Ooty. My most cherished memories of strawberries are from trips abroad. It was wonderful to relive my childhood experience of going strawberry-picking with my aunt in America with my own kids. We ate until we were sick of strawberries, if there could even be such a thing!

That reminds me also of a long-ago visit to Italy. Somewhere just outside of Rome, I came upon a place where wild strawberries grew lushly. They were marble-sized, as small as raspberries. I learnt very little about them except that they had a very short growing season, and that they tasted sublime served with whipped cream. They also looked so beautiful that I don’t think I’d blend them into a smoothie even if you gave me a basket of them today. Their incredible flavour was meant to be relished whole. Fortunately for us here in India, strawberry crops of a good quality that are perfect for smoothies are now easily available.

Still, they carry an air of exoticness to me, and it’s never stopped being amazing to me that in some places, sweet strawberries grow the way that mangoes and bananas grow in our own backyards. We don’t care if they fall to the ground or become pulp, if monkeys steal them and just leave their skins, or if they just go to waste. The reverse must be true for those in countries where strawberries run wild, who would be alarmed that we take our own abundant tropical fruits for granted!

 

Strawberry Smoothie

(Yield: 1 glass)

 

3-4 strawberries

½ cup pomegranate arils

1 cup orange juice

1 amla (gooseberry)

1 teaspoon flax seed powder / flax seed meal

1 teaspoon chia seeds

4-5 almonds

Water as required

 

Put all the ingredients into a blender. Add water, either at room temperature or cold/iced, depending on your preference. You may also add mint leaves, as I do sometimes, if you want to enjoy that flavour.

Blend well and serve. That’s really the entire method! The beautiful simplicity of smoothies is part of what lets you be creative with the ingredients. In my home, the components change daily. A seasonal fruit, however, is always the base and the key.

Although some people add nuts directly into their smoothies, I often have a handful of whole ones alongside my drink instead. Walnuts and almonds are my favourites. Together, they form a light but nourishing meal.

You’ll find this strawberry smoothie highly flavourful and filling. It definitely falls into that “how can something so tasty be so good for you?” category! The convenience of putting it together, as well as how quickly you can consume it during a busy day, are also attractive points that make it a dish that’s well worth incorporating into your lifestyle. I’d love to know if you try it out!

 

 

 

I love, love, love stir-fry and could eat it every day, and some weeks I think I actually do, making different versions of it as per my craving or mood. A stir-fry is more of a category than a dish, of versatile meals-in-a-bowl that cater to any kind of dietary restrictions, lifestyles or personal taste. My boys love theirs with meat, so I regularly add chicken or prawns to theirs. Vegan versions are protein-rich with tofu. When it comes to stir-fries, to each their own.

The simplicity of my preferred version of a stir-fry, replete with healthy ingredients and subtly flavoured, is something I arrived at after sampling numerous versions in many places. For a long time, I would gravitate towards stir-fries in restaurants, which would be made in an elaborate way with different additives and sauces. Then, I encountered them again when I was studying Macrobiotics at the Kushi Institute, where we ate a lot of steamed and sautéed vegetables. Realising how adaptable this dish was, and how it could be cooked to suit a diverse range of diets, made me introduce it into my repertoire frequently.

Stir-fries are built through a checklist of choices: pick a protein, some vegetables, the oil you’re using, nuts or seeds for texture if you like them, and an optional carb. They can literally be made with whatever basic produce you have available at home on any given day. For me, the vegetables are the star ingredients and I have certain time-tested preferences about which ones are good when cooked in this style. I prefer to avoid water-based vegetables as the stir-fry technique works best for firmer, crisper ones. Baby corn, aubergine, bok choy, spinach and kale are among my favourites.

When I want my meal-in-a-bowl stir-fry to be extra filling, I add a carb to it. This can range from red rice, white rice, millets and pasta, depending entirely on what I already have on hand. All these carbs work well when layered with the other ingredients. Without them, a stir-fry can be enjoyed as a hearty salad. When I am including a carb, I tend to avoid starchy vegetables such as potatoes, so as to keep the dish light. You may also choose to avoid sugary vegetables like peas and baby corn if you’re being strict with what you’re consuming. See what works for you. Ultimately, I still feel that vegetables are vegetables and you can’t really go wrong with them. Sometimes, it’s about using your own intelligence. For instance, in Macrobiotics, nightshades such as tomatoes are believed to not be good for you. That doesn’t mean that you have to eliminate them completely. Instead, you balance them by using a smaller portion and adding extra leafy greens as a counter.

I enjoy the crunchiness and slight rawness of the vegetables so much, as well as the feel-good factor to eating them. At the Kushi Institute, I also learned that chewing is absolutely essential. In fact, at mealtimes we sometimes actually counted the number of times that we chewed one mouthful. The maximum I got to was 25! With the slightly undercooked vegetables, you have to be sure to chew them well. To keep the focus on their natural tastes and textures, I ensure that the spices I use are minimal.

The trick is to incorporate all the colours of the rainbow within the dish, which specialists say will cover a broad spectrum of your nutritional needs in a single meal. Here is a convenient list that explains how and why. I try my best to do this when putting together a stir-fry. Visually too, there’s something so beautiful and appealing about this method. It really does make me feel like I am eating a bowl of sunshine.

Not only is this perfect meal-in-a-bowl versatile in terms of the ingredients you can use, but it can work for any time of the day. Aside from lunch and dinner, I find that a portion of it with a couple of boiled eggs makes for a superb, energy-boosting breakfast. The best part is that it takes all of fifteen minutes to put a bowl together, right from chopping to serving. Sometimes, when my son says he won’t be coming home for lunch but then suddenly shows up because a meeting got cancelled, all I have to do is throw together a few fresh vegetables with a bit of chicken, the way he likes it. Within minutes, not only does he get a delicious home-cooked meal, but he is also fully fortified to get back to work.

 

Meal-In-A-Bowl Stir-Fry

(Yield: 1 bowl)

 

2 cups vegetables of your choice

½ cup cooked rice

1 tablespoon groundnut oil

¾ teaspoon ginger/garlic paste

3 tablespoons cut tofu

2 tablespoons soya sauce

1 tablespoon lemon juice

½ teaspoon honey

1 teaspoon white sesame seeds

1 teaspoon chili paste

2 tablespoons coarsely crushed peanuts

Coriander leaves to garnish

Salt to taste

 

Add the groundnut oil in a wok. Once it’s hot, add the sesame seeds and allow them to lightly change colour.

Next, add the garlic/ginger paste. Stir for a minute.

Now, add the vegetables and stir them on a high flame. Do this for about 3 minutes. I like my vegetables to be a bit crunchy so I don’t allow them to cook until tender. Be careful not to burn or singe the ingredients at the bottom of the pan, as this will reduce their nutritional value.

I often use carrots, bell peppers, beans, broccoli, spring onions, raw mango for a bit of tang, and some corn. If you decide to follow the same choices, make sure that the carrots and beans go first as they take a while longer than the others to cook, even slightly.

If you are including a carb, add the cooked rice now. I prefer organic rice varieties, and you can also use millets or orzo pasta. Then, add the tofu.

Finally, add the salt and the remaining ingredients, substituting peanuts and sesame seeds for cashew nuts or walnuts if you prefer. In terms of flavours, some of the best ones are soya sauce, lemon juice, honey glaze and chili sauce/paste. Stir fry for a few minutes on a high flame. Serve hot, garnished with coriander.

There is no single recipe for stir-fry, but this is my favourite. I like the mix of East Asian seasonings with familiar local flavours like raw mango and peanuts, and I find they blend together beautifully. Remember that you can substitute any ingredient for another in its own category; protein, veggies, oil, nuts/seeds and carbs. And most importantly: remember the rainbow, and let green reign!

The revival of traditional ingredients and culinary methods is something very close to my heart, and you may have noticed this passion in everything from the cookware you see in my photographs to the recipes I’ve shared on this blog over the years. This is also the reason why I celebrate so many festive occasions, and believe in passing on traditions to my children, be they cultural (such as certain Diwali or raksha bandhan rituals) or sentimental (such as heirloom recipes). This return to a time-honoured way of life is very valuable to us. It was in this spirit that I accepted the opportunity to create a recipe over the Pongal festival for a special feature in The Hindu. Although Pongal has now passed, any time is a good time to try something delicious, and I hope you’ll like this recipe for traditional South Indian red rice and jaggery pongal.

When I discovered an organic store in Chennai, Spirit of the Earth, I really enjoyed looking at the hundreds of varieties of locally produced rice from around India. I especially love black rice, which has a nutty flavour and appealing colour as well as being nutrient-rich. As someone with Vitamin B12 deficiency, it provides a source of iron that I’m glad to incorporate into my diet frequently. It’s also a very versatile grain, and I enjoy using it in dessert, specifically in Thai-inspired sticky rice with mango pudding. The red rice varieties were also very intriguing to me, and one of them is the key ingredient of this recipe.

Having experimented with growing organic produce on our farm over several seasons now, I now truly understand why turning away from chemical-heavy and industrialised agriculture is good for us. What we do is on a small scale, and mostly for our own sustenance, although we do sell to selected organic stores as well. We cultivate traditional varieties of fruit, flower and produce, and the only kinds of rice and millets we usually eat at home are from our own fields. Among the produce we grow are: ragi, green moong, black rice, barnyard millet, samai and thinnai. Even taste-wise, I find that hybrid varieties of fruit simply don’t taste as sweet. The sight of blossoms like the manoranjitha, which I grew up with but hardly find in Chennai anymore, warms the heart.

It is deeply meaningful to me to be able to provide all these forms of a sense of belonging to my children, who are grown up and live in different parts of the world. They know that they have a home to return to, which will be filled with love and tradition, where meals will be served with ingredients we have carefully cultivated ourselves. When they are not here, they have the recipes on this blog, which will teach them (no matter what time zone they’re in!) how to whip up their favourite comfort foods for themselves. This was one of my core reasons for beginning this blog. While it may look like a motley collection of recipes, that is only because I want it to speak to many generations and tastes, and span influences that reflect all our travels and dreams. We are all multi-taskers with many interests, which is why I keep things varied.

Beginning with my love of cooking for others, I then also started taking photographs. After early trials and errors, I attended workshops to hone my skills, and practiced hard. I think the results of these efforts will be clear even if you look back at old posts. I am proud to have come a long way since then, and especially that I took the step to establish Nandi Shah Photography in 2019. I think it’s still early enough in the year to share again this calendar, which showcases the combination of two of my great loves: baking and photography.

Another very important component of this blog is the health aspect, and whether it’s vegan, Macrobiotic or simply a smarter ingredient substitute, I am always on the look-out for how to create the most nutritious recipes. This red rice and jaggery pongal checks all the boxes here.

Pongal is a traditional South Indian rice porridge, and red rice is a perfect substitute for white rice. I like using Onamatta rice in this recipe as it has a beautiful fragrance. It also tends to cook faster and is a soft rice variety. Originating in Kerala, it is also known as Rosematta rice. A highly nutritious and filling grain, it keeps you full for a long time, making it an ideal appetite-curbing dish during dieting or fasting. I find that red rice also has a way of uplifting the flavours of local vegetables and dhal. It tastes delicious with palm jaggery, which is great sweetener. I’ve had the opportunity to see it being made as well, and I highly encourage it as a sugar substitute. Jaggery has long been the traditional sweetener in Tamil Nadu cooking, and I believe that ancient pongal varieties would have also been made with millets and older grains.

What I am sharing today is a traditional recipe, relished for centuries. You’ll see why when you taste it.

 

Red Rice & Jaggery Pongal

(Yield:  3-4 cups)

½ cup red rice

½ cup jaggery

6-8 cashews

2 tablespoons mung dal

2 ½ cups water

3 + 1 tablespoons ghee

1 pinch of cardamom powder

1 handful of raisins

 

Roast the cashews in a ½ teaspoon of ghee. Add the raisins and roast until they bubble up. Set aside.

Roast the mung dal in a ½ teaspoon of ghee until it releases an aroma. Now, add the cleaned and washed Onamatta rice to it. Add water and allow the rice and dal to cook until tender in a pressure cooker on a medium flame.

In a pan, add ghee. Now, add the palm jaggery. It will begin to melt in a few minutes. Then, add the rice mixture and blend well.

Add the cardamom powder, raisins and cashews, mix well and top it off with a drizzle of ghee before serving.

Preparing a traditional dish like this, no matter when, always has a comforting feeling to it. I truly believe in the adage “We are what we eat.” Food has a unique way of expressing this. Four generations of my family have lived in South India now, and it’s a part of who we are. This red rice and jaggery pongal is a beautiful way for me to honour that connection, as well as my personal appreciation for all things organic. I’d love to know what you think when you try it out!

 

My husband is from Mumbai and if you asked him what the one thing he misses the most about the city is, he would probably say that it’s a type of street food available on practically every corner there. Its presence is so ubiquitous that it is even named the Bombay sandwich. Every visit back will find him at a sandwich stall, buying his favourite food and devouring it immediately by the side of the road. Even back home in Chennai, whenever we frequent neighbourhoods like Sowcarpet and Vepery, which have migrant populations who brought their cuisines with them, he simply has to make a stop for a snack. For myself, however, I’ve always preferred a homemade Bombay toast instead.

Bombay toast is essentially the toasted version of the Bombay sandwich. Whereas the soft sandwich is flavoured with a spiced chutney, the crispy toast has the spices mixed into the potato filling. Although peas, paneer and other ingredients may be used instead, potato is the most popular as it’s a binding agent. Arguably, it’s also the most delicious filling. Street vendors will ask you whether you want the Bombay sandwich or the Bombay toast, and prepare your order on the spot. Slices of cucumber and tomato are used in both, and they’ll top it all up with a red sauce. While it looks like ketchup, it is in fact a pumpkin-based condiment that’s cheaper to produce or buy.

During my own childhood visits to Mumbai, it was chaat that was always more interesting to me, whereas Bombay toast was something that tasted better when enjoyed at home. It’s said that there’s an attractive quality to street food that makes it seem like no matter what higher quality ingredient you use at home, you just can’t replicate the taste. This just doesn’t hold true for me when it comes to Bombay toast, however. Whether it’s on a street corner in Mumbai or at a stall in Chennai’s Gee Gee Minar, what I’ve tasted has never come close to what my mother would make at home. It was a frequent after-school snack for us because it’s a perfect leftovers-based recipe. Whenever there was some potato remaining from a meal, it could go right into this simple dish. It was as equally relished then as the fresh ones I make today are.

When I was growing up, many homes had a handheld sandwich toaster. You simply placed a slice of bread on one side, added your toppings, covered the first slice with a second thickly-buttered one, and turned the toaster on. It was incredibly easy to prepare these sandwiches quickly, and I loved them eating hot and crispy. I still like to use these old toasters, making sandwiches with a variety of chutneys and cheeses. I like that old world charm of using an appliance that is hardly around anymore. Also, not only is it faster than the new electrical toasters, but you can also control the amount of heat used so that you achieve the precise amount of crispiness you desire.

While customarily a snack, Bombay toast also makes for a good, filling breakfast. I often load a platter these days with an assortment of toppings so that my family can make their own versions of it. Still, nostalgia for this dish as my mother would prepare it makes me want to share her simple, no-frills version, using a spicy potato and peas mash. As it happens, peas are currently in season. And who doesn’t love potatoes, right? Bombay toast fulfills the criteria of providing a carb boost, satisfying a quick craving, and even helping fulfill some of your daily quota of vegetables.

Bombay Toast

(Yield: 3-4 sandwiches)

 

Mint chutney

1 cup coriander leaves

½ cup mint leaves

2 tablespoons dry roasted chickpeas

1 green chilli

Salt to taste

2 teaspoons lemon juice

2 tablespoons water

 

Potato filling

1 cup boiled mashed potato

¼ cup finely chopped coriander leaves

2 tablespoons finely sliced onions

Salt to taste

A pinch of turmeric

½ teaspoon chaat masala

½ teaspoon aamchur powder

 

Slices of tomato

6 slices of bread

Grated cheese

Butter to grease

 

For the mint chutney, mix all the ingredients together in a blender. Use enough water to make sure the mixture is of a paste-like consistency. Set aside.

In a bowl, add all the ingredients for the potato filling. Mash them all together by hand until all the spices have blended in and you have a coarse mixture. This filling can also be used to make samosas and kachoris.

Following this, you are ready to assemble and then toast the sandwiches.

Place the slices of bread on a board. On half of the slices, apply the mint chutney. On the remaining slices, evenly spread the potato mixture, making sure it reaches all the corners. Now, place the tomato slices over the slices containing the potato mixture. Add the grated cheese as desired. This is a straightforward recipe, but you can play with different variants. For example, you may add sliced onions, cucumber or jalapeños onto the toast, depending on your taste. Bell peppers will also add more spice. You may also wish to make it a healthier snack by adding finely chopped broccoli or other green vegetables.

Once you’ve spread out the filling and topped it, cover it with the other slice, which contains only the mint chutney. Grease both outer sides of this covered sandwich.

Place each sandwich separately in the toaster and allow to cook until golden or well done.

Loaded with flavours and textures, your Bombay toast is ready to be served hot, and I’m sure you’ll find that it hits just the spot. If you’re a fan of street food and want to make more of it yourself, you may also enjoy my recipes for green moong bhel and sundal. I’m curious to know: do you find that street food is unbeatable in its natural environment, or are some street food classics even better when made and relished at home? Let me know in the comments!

Indians don’t have soups per se in our traditional cuisines, as far as I know. Instead, we have broths such as the thin South Indian rasam and the thick, sweet Gujarati raab. The rasam subsequently became known as mulligatawny soup in the West, but here it is eaten as a side dish, not an appetizer. In fact, that reminds me of how our staple dals are repackaged abroad and even in high-end restaurants here as “lentil soup”! In India, we have no such category as “soup”, but it goes to show how it’s all a matter of perspective. The soup, by any name, is really a universal dish, made with different, seasonal ingredients in cultures around the world.

For many of my generation, we were introduced to soups at clubs and restaurants. My own first memory of any soup was not Western at all, but Chinese (or rather, Indo-Chinese). While growing up, my friends and I would head to a restaurant called Nanking whenever we had something to celebrate. All of our birthdays would find us there, straight from classes in our school uniforms and pigtails, delighted to be spending our pocket money on a shared meal. The meal would invariably begin with an order of the delicious sweet corn soup for everyone at the table

The Nanking sweet corn soup was thickened with cornflour, loaded with MSG and had no more than a couple of kernels of corn floating in the white liquid but regardless it was always a special treat. It tasted fantastic to us, and till today reminds me of some of our fondest times growing up. When I think of it, I’m reminded of how much my kids say they miss their school canteen’s food! Perhaps the meals we share with our friends as we grow up simply create such vivid impressions on us that we associate them with the dishes themselves. What I would give to go back to Nanking, which has since closed down, and enjoy those memories all over again!

Nostalgia for Nanking drove me to the kitchen, to whip up my own version of sweet corn soup, or rather, a vegan whole corn and lemongrass soup. This recipe avoids the cornflour and the MSG and has some of those re:store twists in the form of aromatic lemongrass and spicy green chilli.

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I enjoy the flavour of lemongrass and I think it livens up this soup very much. If you prefer not to use it, some good substitutes are coriander or a hint of mint. Corn has a strong flavour in itself, and my version of the soup is generous with it, so it needs to be balanced well. If you’re a fan of corn , you may also enjoy this makkai khichdi recipe that I shared recently. I use green chilli here for its spiciness, but you can try it with jalapeños too (they are also fast becoming a favourite of mine, and may find themselves in future recipes I’ll share).

Another way in which I’ve tried to recreate this nostalgic dish is with coconut milk. This not only gives it that distinctively South Indian essence, but also evokes many South East Asian delicacies. All in all, this corn and lemongrass soup is a satisfying, filling meal-in-a-bowl that reminds me of my teenage years and of some of my travels, thanks to the blend of flavours.

Speaking of traveling, I just returned from beautiful Colombia, where I heard about the 9-day fast observed by Catholics known as the ‘novena’. It reminded me so much of the 9-day Navaratri followed by Hindus and the 9-day Paryushan followed by the Jains, and got me thinking once again about how we are all so deeply connected. I wish we understood this instead of thinking along the lines of “This is mine, this is yours, my land, my country”, and other such divisions. The oneness and wholeness of humanity is a concept that cannot be lost; whether it be our festivals, our food or our sense of family, ultimately we are all the same and the more I travel, the more this concept is solidified.

Another thought that’s been on my mind a great deal is the famous Native American proverb that goes as follows: “When the last tree has been cut down, the last fish caught, the last river poisoned, only then will we realize that one cannot eat money.” It resonates so much right now. We should all be more aware of what we are doing and thinking. We should look not only at what we are creating, but also at what we are destroying in the process. These are some reflections that I’ve been having as we enter 2020. But first – how about a bowl of warm, crunchy, savoury soup?

 

Vegan Whole Corn & Lemongrass Soup

(Yield: 6-8 cups)

2 cobs of corn

½ teaspoon grated ginger

2-3 lemongrass stems

2 tablespoons olive oil/ butter

2 cups vegetable stock

2 tablespoons spring onion

1 green chilli/jalapeño

1 cup coconut milk

Salt to taste

 

Garnish:

2 tablespoons peanuts

Finely chopped spring onion

Finely chopped coriander leaves

Red chili flakes

1 teaspoon olive oil

 

Grate the corn from the cobs and keep aside.

In a blender, process the lemongrass, ginger and green chilli using 2 tablespoons of water, until coarse.

In a separate pan, add the olive oil and sauté the onions for a few minutes until they are tender. Now, add the grated corn along with its juices. I like to bite into pieces of corn, so in addition to the grated kernels I kept aside a ½ cup of whole kernels, which I add at this point as well. You may do so if you enjoy the texture of corn like I do. Once the mixture turns soft and tender, add the warm vegetable stock and then add the strained juices from the blender.

Gently simmer until the flavours all become one. Add salt to taste. Finally, add the coconut milk. Once heated, remove the pan from the flame.

For the garnish, warm the olive oil gently and stir the remaining ingredients in it.

Spoon the soup into bowls and add the garnish, topping with a spoonful just before serving.

What I do quite frequently nowadays is to make a large quantity of the soup during the day, and whoever wants some just warms up a portion for themselves at any time, just as I do when I find myself hungry for dinner by 6pm or 7pm. I’ve found that it keeps well for up to a couple of days.

In these photos, you may notice the beautiful bowls I’ve used to serve my soup in. I’m always looking for props for my photo and utensils for my kitchen, and when I discovered that blackened earthenware is made in Colombia, I just had to pick some up. I wish I could have carried an entire dinner set back with me from across the continents, but perhaps having to bring these treasures item by item will just mean more visits to that amazing place…

You may also be wondering whether starting the year off on a soup, when so many of us would have set health-related resolutions, was intentional. Actually, it was not. I feel we should eat mindfully all year round, and that we should see nutritious dishes as being a natural part of our diets, not an obligation. This beautiful vegan whole corn and lemongrass soup is exactly the kind of dish that fits into such a repertoire. It’s loaded with healthy ingredients, from corn to nuts and more, and tastes so very delicious. I’d love to know what you think of it if you give this recipe a try!

When I began to imagine this post, it was with the idea that there was not much of a memory storyline behind the recipe I am sharing today. All that had come to mind when a friend gifted me a basket of plums, and I wondered what I could make with them, was that I would pluck the tiny, country variety from trees in Ooty during our summertime holidays when I was growing up… And then, before I knew it, an abundance of recollections came flooding back – of reaching with my own hands for something to eat, raw and delicious and freshly-plucked. Before I get carried away with those reminiscences, let me just say that the recent occasion of Thanksgiving, which is important to my American friends and family, as well as the upcoming Christmas season also gave me inspiration. The plum relish that is traditionally enjoyed during those festivities has been Indianised in my home as plum chutney, and that’s the recipe that this trip down memory lane will culminate in.

The gift basket I received contained what I call “the millennial plum”, a delicious hybrid cultivar which is large and has a deep maroon colour. It usually tastes sweet. The country plums of my childhood, by contrast, were sour and tangy. They came in an orangeish shade and were relatively tiny. Still, as little children, my siblings, cousins, friends and I absolutely delighted in them. There was just a certain immense joy in picking fruits right off a branch and eating them unwashed. There was a rawness to the experience that brought us closer to Nature. Even the sourest fruit was enjoyed in this way.

Fruit-picking was always a thrilling activity for us, both with and without permission. When we had the chance to go abroad for holidays with our aunt, she would give us baskets of our own and take us to strawberry farms, where we would spend the day indulging this hobby of ours to the fullest. We would cherish and guard those baskets full of fresh, ripe fruit. Every last berry was special, plucked with our own hands, and tasted all the more delicious for this reason.

Back home, far from the hills of Tamil Nadu or the strawberry farms of Europe, we still pursued our fruit-gathering in earnest. We would run loose in our neighbourhood and steal mangoes from the trees, as I think I’ve mentioned a number of times on this blog before. It was certainly one of our favourite past-times, even if scoldings were a natural consequence!

The fruit-bearing local naatu cherry tree and the nellika or gooseberry tree were two that I grew up under, and to this day the sight of either of these can make me feel a bit emotional. The gooseberry tree in our garden was laden with kambilipoochis (hairy caterpillars), which would invariably leave a hair or two on me when I reached up to grab those fruits, and I would have to go crying to my mother to get her to remove those caterpillar hairs! Those naatu (country) cherries weren’t the beautiful, glossy-looking ones that top my cakes today, but a small, orange-coloured variety with a tiny, grain-like seed inside. There was also a black-coloured berry, sour and with a high Vitamin C content, with a name that slips my mind. These local, edible fruits were so plentiful in Chennai in those days, available to anyone who knew how to climb a tree.

I’ve spoken before of how much I long to revive different varieties of plants and flowers in our little farmland. I really believe that some of our green wealth is disappearing, and it hurts to find proof of it, as I did when I went looking for wood-apple recently. I dream of planting the trees of some of the fruits I plucked and ate in childhood. I’ve started the process by asking everyone I know for cuttings. Would you have some – of any kind of fruit, flower or plant that seems to be scarce in and around Chennai these days, but which you remember from before? I only specify Chennai because the cutting needs to be suitable to our climate.

The more time I spent reminiscing, the more I remembered: not only did we love eating freshly plucked (and sometimes stolen) fruit, but we even foraged for plants and flowers! The three leaf clover that grows like a weed was one of these. We’d just pop one into our mouths and enjoy its sour, earthy taste. There were also certain flowers, like the gorgeous orange trumpet flower, which we would suck the nectar out of after removing the stem. Did you do any of these activities growing up, when it seemed like we played in the outdoors so much more than the children of today do?

Let me bring this little trip down memory lane, lined with fruit-bearing trees, full circle by coming back to the gift of plums. In India, you can make a chutney with pretty much anything, and I was curious to try out this fruity one. My husband is a big fan of chutneys, and will even have some on the side with a pasta, so I know for a fact that this plum chutney is very versatile. You can also roll it up in a chapatti for a tiffin box, or spread it on toast. It has a sweet, spicy flavour that lends itself as an accompaniment to many dishes.

 

Plum Chutney

(Yield: 350 grams)

500 grams plums

150 grams sugar

1 small onion

⅛ teaspoon ginger powder

1 star anise

Salt to taste

2 teaspoons dry chili flakes

2 tablespoons apple cider vinegar

Lemon zest

 

Plums are a succulent fruit with a vast number of health benefits, from improving cardiovascular health to reducing the risk of osteoporosis to promoting skin health. They are packed with Vitamin C and Vitamin A, as well as antioxidants and minerals. They have been grown since ancient times, and the hybrid types we get today thrive in various places in India – which means we are fortunate that the market is abundantly flooded with them too.

This plum chutney is very simple to prepare, but requires one step of overnight prep. Chop the plums and discard the seeds. Add sugar to the fruit pieces, and cover with a lid. Allow to soak and refrigerate overnight, as this will reduce the cooking time.

The following day, add all the remaining ingredients to the sugar-soaked fruit. Boil on a medium flame. I lightly blended the mixture with a hand blender to break down and bring the flavours together.

Allow to simmer until the chutney thickens. Then, allow to cool.

With a clean spoon, transfer the plum chutney into a clean jar and refrigerate. As long as dry spoons are used and the container is refrigerated, a batch can be kept for up to a couple of weeks.

You may serve it with cheese as they do in the West, or with chapatti as I do at home, but either way, I hope a jar of it finds a place at your table this Christmas – and I hope you’ll simply relish it!

There are two things from the past that I have recently had a hankering for: wood rose trees and wood-apple fruits. For over a year, I’ve been asking people if they know where I can find a cutting of the wood rose tree, which I remember from gazebos at a club in my childhood. I loved to break its pods open and see the black seeds. Many cannot even recall such a plant, and it is sad to know how something that had once been familiar has almost faded from public memory. The wood-apple fruit, however, is one that everyone knows. Or rather, they remember its existence. Even if they may not be able to remember when they last tasted it. This fruit has slowly been disappearing from our palates, as I realised over recent months when this craving hit me and it became almost impossible to source.

Thanks to my good fortune, I found a vendor near the Mylapore market who had some wood-apples in stock. I asked him why I hadn’t been able to find it of late, and he told me that demand for the fruit has gotten so low that farmers no longer have an incentive to grow it. It is just not financially viable for them to do so. The wood-apple season that I remembered from my childhood is right around this time, in conjunction with the festive period and the colder months, and it seems that somewhere in the state, perhaps in a scarce way, there is a small harvest after all.

As I said, I have been craving this wood-apple chutney for months, and it means a lot for me to be able to share the recipe with you, since it took so long to source the chief ingredient! I consider this a “revival recipe”, one which I hope will inspire you to bring this fruit back into grocery shopping. This is the only thing that will allow farmers to cultivate it again as they did before.

Known as “kotha” in Gujarati and “vizhampazham” in Tamil, wood-apple is known to be a tonic for the heart and the liver, and is good for treating intestinal, throat and gum ailments. Many parts of the tree, including the pulp, also have anti-venom properties. It is a pungent fruit, which like jackfruit is something people either love or hate. Needless to say, I love it. My mother often made this wood-apple chutney for us when we were growing up, when the fruit was abundantly available.

This incredibly simple vegan chutney contains just a handful of basic ingredients: wood-apple, jaggery and chilli powder. Some sweetness, some spice and the fruit pulp combined together create an addictive dip that can be eaten in many ways. I am told by a Sri Lankan friend that they often eat their version, which doesn’t contain spice, as a jam on toast. There are of course innumerable recipes in different homes, communities and regions.

What I am sharing today is my mother’s recipe for wood-apple chutney, which I recall eating along with leftover rotis as an after-school snack. I used to think of it as being a part of the larger category of homemade condiments that she would make and bottle at home. Many Indians used to do this – do you remember those pickles that would last a whole year? We would reach out for these pickles, chutneys and more whenever we were in a pinch and just needed something to eat between meals. This wood-apple chutney always satisfied the craving. It’s no wonder that “craving” is really the only way to describe how I kept searching for it for months, and how satisfied I am to have found it.

 

Wood-Apple Chutney

(Yield: 1 cup)

1 wood-apple

3 tablespoons jaggery

1 teaspoon chilli powder

1 teaspoon roasted cumin powder

1 teaspoon/small ball of tamarind paste

Salt to taste

 

A ripe wood-apple gives out a faint fragrance and tastes a bit pungent on the tongue. It has a soft flesh of an orange-ish colour. You will know that a wood-apple is ripe when the fruit smells. Until then, there is no fragrance.

Scoop the flesh from the wood-apple and keep aside.

Instead of a blender, I used a mortar-and-pestle like my mum used to, which is the traditional way to grind chutneys. I reach out for it for certain recipes, even though we use the blender today for convenience’s sake. Blend the the wood-apple flesh, chilli powder, jaggery, roasted cumin powder, tamarind and salt to taste, either by hand or in a machine. Do so until it becomes of a chutney consistency.

Move to a bowl. You may enjoy it immediately, or refrigerate. It will stay good for 3-4 days, if it lasts that long. When I make bigger batches, I warm a little oil and pour it on top, so that it is preserved for longer.

This simple and tasty wood-apple chutney is a wonderful dish through which to discover (or rediscover) the fruit, which as I’ve shared earlier seems to be disappearing quickly from our markets. What are some of the fruits and vegetables that you recall from your childhoods which we rarely see anymore? Let’s figure out together how to bring them back into circulation. It’s important for us as mindful consumers to consider the origins of the produce we purchase and eat, and to be supportive of those who make it possible for us to do so. Looking forward to your ideas in the comments!

The seasons are changing and the usual respiratory illnesses are going around as we adjust to the weather, worsened of course by pollution and the busy modern lifestyle. A few years ago, I shared this remedy from my childhood, and many of you told me that you found it effective and refreshing. Now, I’ll share a complementary dish, a warm and nourishing porridge that I absolutely loved while growing up. This raab is like chicken broth for the Gujarati soul, and is one of my most favourite comfort foods of all.

Raab was my mother’s go-to fixer for colds, sore throats, coughs and so on. It coats the throat well, alleviating any itchiness there. New mothers are often fed raab, due to its fortifying properties. I think of it as a dish to simply warm the soul, when you’re feeling down and need a hug. It’s a light meal for whenever you’re feeling under the weather.

Raab falls into the category of “accessible medicine”, something which anyone can make, especially when a pharmacy is out of reach. It is comprised of very basic and affordable ingredients that can be found in any Gujarati kitchen: ghee, bajra (pearl millet) or wheat flour, ginger powder (soont) and edible gum resin (gond). Most communities will have some version of such a dish, made of elements which are at hand for all members of society.

Bajra or pearl millet is usually had during the winter months or during the wet, cold seasons. My aunt, an expert in Gujarati cooking, and from whom I learnt a lot during my many summer holidays with her, explained that bajra and ajwain (carom seeds) are used during winters as they warm the body. In the summers, wheat flour is substituted for the millet. The ginger powder also has a warming effect, in addition to adding taste. I’m still trying to find out exactly why dry ginger powder is used rather than freshly grated ginger, and have arrived at my own conclusion. My theory is this: dry ginger is a ‘yang’ ingredient, hence positively affects the deeper organs in the body like our bones. It is also stronger than hydrated fresh ginger.

My aunt would also also say, “Don’t forget to add the gond.” It has numerous health benefits, including aiding the digestion. I saw this lady in Patdi, Gujarat, selling the resin, which she told me she collected herself from the bark of trees in her village. I couldn’t resist buying some from her.

With so many healthy ingredients, you would imagine that children would need a lot of convincing before they ate this porridge, but that’s not true. Whenever my siblings or I fell ill when we were growing up, I would ask for a bowl of raab as I absolutely loved it. The reason for this is that this remedy is… sweet! This is thanks to the jaggery, of course, which has its own host of benefits, as regular readers of this blog will be familiar with. Raab tastes so delicious that you’d never believe it was good for the body, but the proof is in how healed and nourished you feel after you’ve had some.

If I wasn’t unwell, my mother always said No to my request, and this has created a powerful memory link for me. She never treated raab as an anytime dish, as a result of which I too refrain from doing the same. There is also something to the charm of having it when under the weather, and feeling soothed by it in those times, and I feel this would disappear if I began to enjoy it as an ordinary meal. Today of course, my dearest mother is gone and when I make it for myself, I associate it with being soothing both to my throat and to my heart because it was she who would make it for me…

In that sense, raab is sentimental for me in the same way that laapsi, a sweet I only ever make on Diwali, is. No one is going to stop me from making it at some other time of the year, but I consider it sacred in some way, just as I do the raab.

Raab

(Yield: 1 bowl)

⅛ cup bajra (pearl millet) flour

⅛ cup jaggery

1½ tablespoons ghee

2 cups water

1 teaspoon dry ginger powder

½ teaspoon ajwain

In a pan, add the ghee and the flour. Stir them together on a low-medium flame until the mixture looks like a roux. Keep stirring, making sure it does not stick to the bottom of the pan, until it turns a golden colour.

At the same time, in another pot, add the jaggery and the water. Heat until the jaggery melts, stirring occasionally.

Once the roux is golden, add the ginger powder, the ajwain and the powdered gond resin. The gond will make the mixture bubble and fluff up at this point. Finally, add the warm jaggery water. Stir well and carefully, so the mixture does not start to coagulate and get lumpy.

Once it is completely smooth, it is ready to be served. Raab is best enjoyed hot.

As explained above, bajra is especially good for the winters and monsoons, as is ragi. In the summer months, you can replace it with whole wheat flour or any seasonal flour of your choice. If you don’t have much of a sweet tooth, you can also reduce the quantity of jaggery in this dish.

I wish you and your family good health as the season changes, and I am glad to share this simple and satisfying dish that will help with the sniffles and fatigue that are customary at this time. Such recipes have been treasured for generations, and it’s up to us to keep these healing traditions going in the time to come. Here are a few more home remedies: soothing syrup, raisin kalkand syrup and turmeric shot. Each of them boosts the health – and, as I personally find, the mood too! They take me on a trip down memory lane that always reminds me that food is a form of love.

This Diwali, in so many homes across India (and in Indian homes across the world), sweets are going to be the star of the celebrations. Among several I am preparing is the sweet boondi, which I only learned how to make recently. Much to my surprise, it was an almost effortless process. Originating from Rajasthani cuisine and also popular in Bengal, boondi is essentially fried balls of chickpea batter, submerged in sugar syrup. It is certainly an indulgence, but that’s what festive seasons are for, aren’t they?

My sister has become my culinary teacher of late, and I was staying with her for a few weeks while having my sciatica treated. You may have noticed that I had been lying low on Instagram for awhile, and that was the reason why. I believe that illnesses have a mind-body connect, and my body forced me to destress through this one. The best advice that anyone gave me was that I needed to enjoy my downtime. I spent my recuperation reading, catching up with films, taking it easy, doing mild exercises which were a far cry from my frantic and intensive gym regimen, and just breathing. We have to remind ourselves to slow down and savour the moment. For those of you watching your diet over the holidays, you know exactly how it feels to let yourself enjoy just one sweet. That’s the kind of slowing down and savouring that I am talking about.

Staying with my sister gave me a chance to watch her working in her kitchen daily, and to pick up so many techniques and recipes from her. Among them was this sweet boondi. Like many people, I had consumed it innumerable times without ever attempting to make it myself.

Boondi is made in different sizes. The tiny one is called “motichoor”, for “moti”, meaning pearl. This recipe can be considered medium-sized. I recall enjoying the large, laddoo version of this sweet as a child (“motichoor laddoo”, in which many small balls are rolled together to make one big one). Another way to make this sweet is to flatten out the batter on a dish and cut it into squares, which are then fried and dipped in sugar syrup just like all the variants.

These days, with the proliferation of sweet stores, I find that many people reach out to purchase a whole range of treats without any idea of how easy they are to make. The soft sandesh that I recently shared on this blog was a perfect example of this. Some of my friends told me after reading the post that they had no idea that an item they had always considered fancy and difficult to make was in fact extremely straightforward and required so few ingredients. We often have the impression that just because something is available for purchase in stores and at restaurants, it cannot be prepared at home. This sweet boondi is similar. Let me assure you that as long as you master the consistency of the batter and the syrup syrup, you’ll be able to whip it up in your own kitchen in no time. The process is quick and easy, not as long-drawn and elaborate as you may have imagined.

Unlike perishable milk sweets, this dish will keep for a few more days – but I guarantee you that you won’t have proof of that. It’s far too irresistible. Place it on the table and just watch it disappear!

 

Sweet Boondi

(Yield: approximately 3 cups)

1 cup chickpea flour

¾ cup water

1 cup sugar + ½ cup water

¼ teaspoon saffron + 1 teaspoon water

½ cup sliced almonds

 

The trick is to get the consistency of the batter just right, so that it drips into the oil properly as it fries. After this, the next trick is to have perfectly-made sugar syrup is key. I was so tempted to flavour mine with rosewater, given that rose is an ingredient I reach for so frequently that it’s one of re:store’s signature twists. But I refrained, choosing to go for a traditional spice instead. The saffron in this sweet adds a subtle fragrance and flavour to it.

In a bowl, mix the chickpea flour with water. It needs to be almost like an idly batter or pancake batter consistency. Only if you have the consistency right will the boondi drop into beautiful dots.

In another bowl, add the sugar and ½ cup water. In a medium flame, stir the sugar and water slightly for about 10 minutes until it becomes thicker, but not too thick. Allow to cool slightly and add the soaked saffron so the sugar expands in an orange colour.

Heat ghee in a frying pan on a medium flame. Once the ghee is hot, drop the batter through a sieve so that it falls in tiny droplets into the hot ghee. See the video below for the method.

Fry the droplets for a few minutes, making sure it doesn’t turn colour. Now, strain the drops from the hot ghee and add them into the warm sugar syrup. Fry all of the batter this way. As you drop the boondi into the syrup, it will soak up the syrup.

Garnish with sliced almonds or pistachio, or to give it a festive look, decorate with silver leaf/varak. Your sweet boondi is now ready to serve.

If you prefer this boondi in laddoo form, then the sugar syrup needs to be thicker so that you can pick up the boondi and roll it into balls between your palms.

When it comes to snacks, my most favourite combinations are both sweet and savoury. I love having this sweet boondi with the crunchy, spicy poha roast mix. Over Diwali, I feel like I consume endless bowls of the two together, with their medley of textures and tastes.

You may have noticed that the majority of recipes I share are for dishes I have some emotional connect with, especially from my childhood. This sweet boondi is one with which I have no such nostalgic attachment, but for me festivals and food are not just about the past. Each dish, each festivity, is a chance for new experiences. We create new memories this way, which may eventually become sentimental in their own way. As we celebrate this Diwali, I wish for you that the year to come contains all the sweetness of this dish. I hope it will be a part of the precious bonds that you are building over your dining table, too.