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When my daughter was in school, I would send her off every day with a lunchbox that contained as much variety as possible. Whether it was noodles, pizza or something else, I always made her something delicious – but with a healthy twist. Her best friend, a girl from Andhra Pradesh, brought her mother’s spinach rice in her own lunchbox every day. And the girls would exchange lunchboxes. My daughter loved that traditional spinach rice, and her best friend couldn’t get enough of my cooking experiments! When I discovered what was going on, I simply started packing extra of whatever I sent her, so both girls could eat more of our homemade meals.

Recently, this friend visited us, and the girls sat with me and reminisced about the good old days of their childhoods. Soon, they got to talking about the lunchbox swaps, and my daughter was nostalgic, saying how much she missed that spinach rice. As it is made of affordable and readily available ingredients, some variation of spinach rice is a staple in households all over the country. “Spinach” is an entire category of leafy greens. In South India, there are so many kinds available that certain dishes are matched according to the tastes of each. For instance, in Tamil Nadu, the thick small leaves of paruppu keerai (literally “dhal spinach”) go with dhal, the smaller leaves of siri keerai (“little spinach”) taste good with garlic, and are usually stir-fried with the same, and so on. What is known as dill rice in the West is also a kind of spinach rice here.

Spinach, as the cartoon character Popeye popularised, is great for developing a strong and healthy body. It is a muscle-builder, and packed with vitamins, calcium, antioxidants and other nourishing elements. It’s also collagen-rich, which means your skin and hair benefit from it. It is typically the kind of leafy green that kids resist eating, as some kinds are bitter, which is why I was so happy to find out about my daughter’s lunchbox exchanges long ago!

In my previous post, I mentioned a nifty slicer I picked up on my travels, and while these modern conveniences are much enjoyed, I still trust and hold on to our time-honoured appliances. For instance, I have the traditional Tamil aruvamanai, a hooked grater meant to be used while seated on the floor. The lovely thing about such devices is that they are durable in a way that modern devices, especially plastic ones, just aren’t. While this is mostly part of the décor, I’m not averse to using it when I want to. What better way to recreate a nostalgic dish than by using an antique appliance? I pulled out the old aruvamanai and sliced the spinach leaves for this recipe with it…

 

Spinach Rice

(Yield: 4-5 cups)

Ingredients
1 tomato
1 onion
2 cups spinach leaves
¾ cups raw rice
2 tablespoon mung dal
1 tooth garlic
1 green chilli
¼ teaspoon turmeric
¼ teaspoon cumin seeds
¼ teaspoon mustard seeds
1 tablespoon oil
Salt to taste

In a pressure cooker, add the spinach leaves, mung dal, onion, tomato, turmeric, chili, garlic, salt and 3 cups of water. Allow to cook for 2 whistles. In case you do not want to use a pressure cooker, you may cook the same ingredients covered with a lid on a medium flame, until well-cooked and soft to the touch.

Meanwhile, wash and soak the rice in water.

In a pan, add oil, then the cumin seeds and mustard seeds. Once they splutter, add the washed raw rice.

Now, open the cooled pressure cooker. Add the washed and soaked rice to the spinach and allow them all to cook for two more whistles. The spinach rice is now ready.

Serve hot – or in a lunchbox, for your growing children, who may surprise you with their tastes!

The Telugu cuisine of Andhra Pradesh and Telangana is known for being spicy, and the spinach rice recipe above, generously shared by my daughter’s friend’s mother, is no different. My daughter says that it tastes just like she remembered it from school. It’s in the original style, of course, but I must take credit for the most special ingredient – her mother’s love!

 

For someone who grew up disliking bananas, I’ve simply not been able to get enough of them this month! I hope you enjoyed my previous recipe for banana bread. There’s been a windfall of plantains on my farm, and so the fruit has found its way into several more dishes I’ve made lately. The recipe I’m sharing today adds a bit of crispiness to my traditional lunch thaalis. It’s so easy to make, and so difficult to resist. I really have gone bananas for these banana chips!

These chips don’t use the ripe bananas that we peel and eat when in need of a portable snack. Instead, they use unripe green plantains of the Monthan variety, which fruit in the 8th or 9th month after planting. They are not sweet, unlike ripe ones, but are edible both raw and cooked. Rich in potassium, iron and several vitamins, they are used in cuisines in Polynesia, Jamaica, and here in India of course. The banana tree itself is considered sacred in Hinduism, and is worshipped in some sects and used in wedding ceremonies. Not only the fruit but the flower too can be consumed, and food is traditionally eaten on a banana leaf itself.

I have a new gadget in my kitchen that I picked up on one of my travels – a nifty slicer that lets me quickly slice the banana directly over hot oil, so I was quite excited to use it when my sister taught me how easy these chips are to make.

Banana chips are made all over India, but they differ from state to state. The famous Kerala ones, for instance, are cut thicker and are bright yellow. These Gujarati-style ones are thin and reddish-coloured because of the spices used. They are called “kudkudiyas” – a bit of onomatopoeia, because of the “kud kud” crunch sound. They remind me of all my visits to Ahmedabad, and in fact my husband (aka The Dark Prince!) is so partial to them that I order them for him all the way from that city. Fortunately, everyone at home loves my banana chips too, so they can now have them fresh and not imported!

Gujarati-Style Banana Chips

(Yield: Approximately 1 bowl)

Ingredients

1 large raw plantain

Salt to taste

¼ teaspoon chili powder (or to taste)

¼ teaspoon powdered sugar

2 cups oil (for deep frying)

Heat the oil in a frying pan. Peel the plantain and wash it. Be watchful as it may be a bit sticky to the touch.

Slice the plantain and immediately drop the slices into the hot oil. If you use a gadget like I do, you can slice them directly over the pan.

Now reduce the flame to medium. Turn the slices around a few times until they turn golden.

Remove them from the oil, placing them onto an absorbent paper. Immediately sprinkle the salt, chili powder and sugar. Make them your way by adding spices of your choice, such as pepper or chaat masala. The trick is to add the spices as soon as they’re off the oil because this is the only way the spices will stick to the chips. Also remember that the thinner the slice, the crispier and tastier they’ll be. Store in an air tight jar. Enjoy the crunch!

 

This exact same recipe can also be used for sweet potato chips, if you prefer them to green bananas or find them more readily available.

I prefer using these homemade banana chips instead of any store-bought snack to add crispiness to our lunch thaalis at home. They are cleaner and healthier, and I know exactly what’s going into our mouths, so I don’t mind that they are deep fried.

Even though these banana chips are made in a popular and easy style, you will surely agree that every dish tastes different depending on the cook. Each home and each hand has its own flavour, despite the recipe being exactly the same. Even something as simple as banana chips will have a unique taste. When you try this recipe, be sure to let me know how yours tastes!

June is my birthday month, which means one word, and a very special one for re:store at that: CAKE! As I mentioned in an earlier post, my mother once attended a baking course at a catering institute in Chennai when my siblings and I were still in school. For an entire month, she’d bring home the most delectable samples. We couldn’t wait to get home and eat them! The smells and memories of that adventurous time when she started making all these new desserts for us are still with me, and a huge part of the inspiration behind re:store. During that course was when my mother had started to maintain a cherished notebook of baking recipes, which was gifted to me eventually. One of those recipes is what I’ve pulled out for you today – banana bread.

Growing up, I was not a great fan of the extremely nutritious banana, so this was a great way to make sure I ate it. Bananas have been proven to dramatically reduce the risk of heart disease, thanks to being packed with potassium. They improve the digestive system and are said to be beneficial for everything from asthma to weight loss. They are carb-rich, so they boost energy quickly. They are also naturally sweet, which means any dessert you put them in requires less sugar.

Lately I’ve been nostalgic about my growing years and it led me to dig out some old photos from back then. Here are two: an old studio portrait of my mother, who as you know inspires most of my work, and a shot of me from my teenage years by my dear friend Rags Raghavan, who has taught me a great deal about using the camera. Looking at the portrait of my mother, I feel grateful for how re:store has grown from my imagination into what it is today. My mother was in her 20s when it was taken and was about to be married. She went on to become my first, most important culinary mentor, and still is to this day. I remember days spent after school helping with chores in the kitchen; back then I didn’t realize the values I imbibed would be such an important part of me and my journey with re:store. Many of my cooking methods are identical to those of my mother’s kitchen. Grow your herbs yourself, never waste a morsel, always feed and care for staff, and a bunch of other values and tips. Even today, I pester my mother for traditional Gujarati recipes on my weekly visits, and she happily obliges.

Nowadays, I take so many photos digitally, carefully styling and selecting the best ones. Back then, we had manual cameras, with film rolls that had to be brought from abroad. You couldn’t edit those pictures, and you could not take so many either. My first film camera was a gift from my father-in-law, and my kids and family were my first subjects. I still have a soft spot for the old photography methods. They feel authentic to me in a way that I still try to replicate somehow in my modern shoots.

More than being commercially successful, what matters to me is that I am passionate about what I do. I enjoy styling my shoots so much. I am proud to say I work with pleasure!

Food and photography are two sides of re:store, and two big parts of my heart. So without further ado, here’s my birthday gift to you…

 

Birthday Banana Bread

(Yield: 1 loaf)

Ingredients

150 grams unsalted butter

200 grams sugar

3 eggs

110 ml buttermilk

3 bananas

1 teaspoon baking soda

½ teaspoon salt

¼ teaspoon cinnamon

350 grams flour

100 grams walnuts

 

Prepare a 10′ loaf tin, by buttering and dusting with flour.

Beat the butter and sugar until light and creamy. Add the eggs one at a time, beating well after every addition. Once the eggs have been blended well, add the bananas and buttermilk.

Sift the flour, baking soda, cinnamon and salt. Fold into the batter. Now add half the broken walnuts as well.

Using a spatula, blend the batter well once more, then spoon it all into the loaf tin.

Take the remaining finely chopped walnuts and sprinkle on top to decorate.

Bake for 45 minutes to an hour, until a skewer comes out clean when inserted.

Allow to cool and remove from tin. Slice and serve with a hot beverage of your preference.

I’ve chosen to share this banana bread recipe with you because while it’s a cake, it’s also one of the healthier desserts you can have. If, like me, you have an eye on your fitness, you certainly won’t feel like you’ve cheated on your diet plan. If you’re a fan of banana and looking for something slightly more decadent, try the deep-fried deliciousness of my banana-methi fritters!

I always think of the recipes on this blog as a gift for those who live far away from my kitchen – if you can’t treat yourself to one of my homemade cakes, you can at least try to make it yourself!

The Indian palate loves a good pickle, and Gujarati pickles are especially famous! Made from an endless assortment of vegetables and fruits, pickles became a vital element of the Gujarati thaali probably because they can be kept for long periods without fuss. For travelling communities like Gujaratis, this would have been a reliable way to enhance the flavour of any meal, anywhere.

Pickles are made based on seasonal availability, so there are no prizes for guessing that once again, it is mangoes  that feature in the recipes I’m sharing today. There are many varieties of mango pickles, depending on the region – today I share my takes on a spicy one, and a sweet one named chhundo.

Indian pickling methods are different from Western pickling methods, and primarily use oil rather than vinegar. Homemade pickles rely on the peak summer heat, and this is why mango pickles are especially popular throughout the subcontinent now, as the fruit’s harvest season coincides with the ideal climatic conditions to make them. When I was little, a year’s supply of delicious mango pickles would be left to roast on our rooftop for days at a time by my mother. I would go up there and watch them cooking under the sun, covered in fine cloth, and desperately want to stick my fingers in and take some out to relish immediately. Grated mango with the sweetness of sugar and the tang of salt, warmed by sunlight – irresistible!

What I share today is an “instant” version of this time-tested method, meant for immediate consumption. In our fast-paced lives, we don’t always have the right circumstances or patience for the traditional methods, but we can take inspiration from them. The time has come when I now make pickles for my parents’ home, all the versions – the sweet kind as well as the spicy kind, the kind for immediate consumption as well as the kind that can be preserved for up to a year, in glass jars just like the ones that lined the kitchens of my childhood.

And now, in my own kitchen, just like the spice boxes that many keep in theirs, there is a pickle box, very much a homage to my Gujarati heritage. Every friend who comes home asks to see it. It is a point of conversation: which one has jaggery, which one is spicy, where does each recipe comes from? I keep 5 or 6 in this box at a time, and chhundo is always the star.

Nowadays, despite all the masalas and spices from across India and the ingredients from abroad that fill our kitchens, we still reach for the humble pickle. Its sharp taste is a necessary element, without which a meal is not complete. I’ve watched countless times as Indian people are made to remove their precious jars of pickles from their luggage at airport security counters all over the world! The look on their faces as they watch their lovingly bubble-wrapped bounty being chucked into the garbage says it all. No matter where we go, the pickle must never be far from us!

 

Sweet Mango Pickle (Chhundo)

(Yield: 1 cup)

Ingredients

1 cup grated raw mango

1 ½ cups sugar

1 teaspoon coarsely ground cumin seeds

½ teaspoon salt

¼ teaspoon turmeric powder

1 teaspoon chilli powder

 

Place the grated mango in a pan. Add the salt and turmeric powder, and mix everything well using your hand, such that the juice is released from the mango.

Now add the sugar to the mango, and transfer to a pan. Place it on a medium flame. Stir gently to encourage the sugar to melt. In a few minutes, you will notice the sugar and mango bubbling away. Keep stirring until the sugar thickens slightly. When touched between your fingers it should be slightly sticky.  If you overdo this part, the sugar will crystallise, so be sure to turn off the flame before this happens.

My sweet mango pickle is usually stored for a few months, but this depends on the weather and storage conditions. I keep mine in a cool place, outside rather than in a cupboard. Always ensure that the utensils and jars you use when transferring or storing the pickle are clean and dry, otherwise it can quite quickly go bad.

 

Spicy Mango Pickle

(Yield: 1 cup)

Ingredients

1 cup finely cut raw tangy mango pieces

½ teaspoon salt

1 pinch turmeric

¼ teaspoon ground fenugreek seeds

1 teaspoon red chilli powder

¼ teaspoon mustard seeds

1 tablespoon oil

 

Place the cut mango in a glass bowl. Now sprinkle all the remaining spices. Keep aside.

In a small pan, add the oil and the mustard and cumin seeds. Wait till the mustard seeds splutter, and then pour the entire sauté into the bowl of cut mango. Mix well with a spoon.

This easy, spicy mango pickle is now ready. Store it in the refrigerator and it will last for up to a week.

 

Ripe mango, raw mango, spiced mango, sweetened mango – the possibilities really are endless for this beautiful fruit. These pickles are a way of incorporating this fruit into your daily meals. If you prefer it to be the star of the show, try out my ripe mango rasam or my curry leaf and raw mango cooler.

These lovely pickles are not only made for the traditional thaali, but can be eaten as a condiment for a variety of snacks. I even add the spicy pickle to cheese platters as it is quite versatile, and I recall how my friend Vikram once used the chhundo as a marinate for a shrimp starter. It was simply delicious. Be innovative, and be sure to let me know how you eat these pickles!

Come summer, every family in India uses the mango in their daily cooking. It can be found in literally every dish: dals, sabzis (cooked with vegetables), pickles, curries, desserts and more. Everybody wants to get creative with the mango, and why not? With 1,500 varieties said to grow in the country, each one sweeter than the other, we are rightly proud of the fruit and look forward to the season eagerly. The different varieties have such beautiful names too: the neelam in Gujarat, the alphonso in Maharashtra and the nectar-sweet imam pasand of South India are but some. While we are unfortunate to not have the pleasure of berries here, the mango more than makes up for it.

Mangoes are popular globally, though they originated in the Indian subcontinent, and are cultivated everywhere from Andalusia to the Caribbean. They are the national fruit of three countries (India, Pakistan and the Philippines) and the national tree of Bangladesh. I have yet to meet a single person who doesn’t like mangoes!

Even if it wasn’t my national fruit, I would consider it a star among fruits. And it’s the star of a recipe my family has been simply loving this summer: mango rasam. Rasam is a thin, spicy South Indian soup which is usually eaten with rice or consumed as a beverage. This mango rasam is a seasonal staple, and is similar to the fajeto, which is also a staple in the typical Gujarati thaali in summers. A summer thaali comprises of layered rotli, a vegetable, dal, buttermilk, aamras or mango pulp in a bowl, raw mango pickle and fajeto. You’ll notice that half the plate is filled with mango in some form! After such a big fat meal, a siesta is also a part of the traditional lunch!

As you may know, I am all about growing my own produce, and this season I am happy to say I’ve been plucking mangoes in my own backyard. You really have to nurture your garden with love and care, and I am a big believer in spending time there, talking to the plants. They do respond, as I have seen for myself. I have learned how to tend to two variants, the killimooku, so named because it is shaped like a parrot’s beak, and the sindura, which is so sweet it is also known as the honey mango. Looking after these trees is an ongoing process. A few months ago, I used a neem spray to prep them for the harvest season, and learned from an organic farmer how to dig a pit a few feet away from the main trunk and fill it with mulch. Dried leaves, coconut husk, a little soil and other compost ingredients decay into fertiliser, giving the tree nourishment. These methods have really worked, as the bounty of fruit from my garden have proved. I knew a couple of months ago when I saw the young, tender leaves come out that the harvest this year would be good. And so it is.

I was making aamras when the idea for mango rasam came to me. As I squeezed the mango pulp and put the seeds in water, I recalled how my mother – who taught me how to never waste food – uses this water to make fajeto. I decided to make it the South Indian way, with garlic and curry leaves. These are not used in the Gujarati version, which utilises yoghurt.

 

Ripe Mango Rasam

(Yield: 3-4 cups)

Ingredients
Rasam

½ cup ripe mango pulp

½ cup cooked, boiled and mashed toor dal

2 cups water

1 crushed tomato

2 teaspoons cumin seeds

1 teaspoon black pepper

2 dried red chilies

4 cloves garlic

¼ inch piece of ginger

1 tablespoon tamarind pulp

Salt to taste

Sauté
1 teaspoon oil

¼ teaspoon mustard seeds

A few curry leaves

A pinch of asafoetida

 

In a pot, mix and stir the mango pulp and dal. I have used the alphonso variant, but you can use any ripe mango. Add the water.  Now add the salt, turmeric, asafoetida, crushed tomato and tamarind pulp.

Crush the cumin, ginger, garlic and black pepper coarsely together. Now add this to the mango pulp mix. Place on the stove and allow to boil for approximately 10 minutes. Do not allow it to over-boil – take it off the stove a minute after it starts to bubble.

Separately, heat the oil. Once it’s hot, add the mustard seeds. When they splutter, add the curry leaves. Finally, pour this sauté into the pot of boiled rasam. Serve hot with rotlis or rice.

Look at that colour – simply irresistible. Every time I set up a photoshoot, I am dying to finish it so that I can eat whatever I’ve been shooting! All the more so when it’s something that should be eaten hot, like this rasam. There’s a particular joy in the question of whether to eat a little, then shoot, or shoot first and eat later. As I was pouring this vibrant, fragrant rasam into the vessel and styling it for my shoot, I decided I would wait. This time, anyway!

 

I must have yoghurt with every single meal – a meal is never complete without it, and I am never full! I have tried over the years to go vegan and all that jazz but my love for yoghurt makes this impossible. I can give up milk, but yoghurt? Never. In fact, I loved it so much as a child that my mother had to ration it – she restricted me to a single cup per meal. But how I loved that one cup!

In South India, we take our yoghurt seriously. It has to be perfect – it should not be too sour, it should not have a thin film on top, and it should be smooth not broken. This is how it must be served at the table – and you can be assured that it is served at every table.

I have a friend in Barcelona who visits me each year and takes back a little bit of the yoghurt culture as a starter to make her own. The temperature, quantity of culture and the quality of the milk are very important. Yet, somehow, yoghurt is also very simple to make, which is why it is made in households every single day without fail. I wish sourdough was as easy to make. If you follow me on Instagram, you’d have seen my attempts and adventures at sourdough on my Instastories!

Traditionally, in my home, we set the yoghurt in an earthenware or stoneware pot. I set it both in the mornings and in the evenings, so that we have it fresh at both lunch and dinner. Yoghurt usually sours within a day, so it is one of the ingredients that is often used in leftover-based dishes. Refrigeration can prolong this slightly.

It sets faster in the summers, within 5 to 6 hours. In cooler months, if you set it just before bed, you will certainly be able to have it first thing in the morning. But be warned that these standards are for my climate, here in India. When I visited my son in New York last winter, he had a craving for homemade yoghurt. In the depths of icy November, it took two whole days to set!

So many of my summer stories revolve around my grandparents’ home in Vijayawada. If you went down memory lane with me and my aunt’s rose sherbet or their vetiver-scented curtains which inspired my chia pudding, here is one more from my childhood memories to enjoy: spiced buttermilk. It is a flavour I remember from those summers with my cousins, when we would each be given 25 paisa to go buy ourselves a treat. Someone would get soda, someone would get raw mango slices… My favourite was guava, but buttermilk was what we were always encouraged to have, for its health benefits. What I’ll share with you today is my friend Anandhi’s recipe, made with her guidance. Its core ingredient is homemade yoghurt.

Both yoghurt and buttermilk are great for digestion, and have a cooling effect on the body, which is why they are summer essentials. If you love your dairy like I do – with apologies to my vegan and lactose-intolerant friends! – you’ll absolutely love being able to switch from store-bought yoghurt. After a while, setting it becomes a habit, and it’s always so delicious when it’s fresh.

 

Spiced Buttermilk

(Yield: Approximately 5 glasses)

 

Ingredients

1 cup yoghurt

1 teaspoon roasted cumin powder

1 teaspoon grated ginger

1 tablespoon finely chopped coriander leaves

1 finely chopped green chilli

Salt to taste

3 cups water

A dash of lemon

1 pinch asafoetida (optional)

In a blender, add all the ingredients, except the water, and whir until everything is well blended. Now add the 3 cups of water. You can adjust the consistency by increasing or reducing the quantity of water to your preference. The dash of lemon gives you a little spring of energy, and the spices add such delicious flavours to the drink. Serve immediately.

Known for its probiotic properties, buttermilk acts as a coolant in the summer months, especially when eating heat-inducing mangoes is a full time pleasure!

 

 

Homemade Yoghurt

As I said earlier, setting yoghurt is both very delicate and very easy. To set the yoghurt, the temperature of the room, the temperature of the milk and the quantity of the starter are all very important in order for the yoghurt to be plain and not sour.

In India, where summers are very hot, I add a ¼ teaspoon of starter yoghurt to a bowl and pour room temperature milk into it. I then cover it with a lid and set it aside for 5-6 hours. Do the same if you are working in a similar climate. After the stated time, open the lid and see that the milk is set and rather tight when moved a little. Now refrigerate. Serve whenever you please.

During the winters, warm the milk and increase the quantity of the starter to ½ or even 1 teaspoon. Cover, and keep in a warm place for 10-12 hours or until set.

I am not a fan of sour yoghurt so refrigerating it once set is key, so it stays fresh for longer.

I’d much rather make my own yoghurt at home, where I know what exactly goes into it, as I’m always cautious about my food as far as possible.

This is the yoghurt I use when making buttermilk, as well as my regular accompaniment to my major meals. Yoghurt with rice, yoghurt with rotli, and of course, yoghurt with re:store’s bestselling muesli. It goes so well with everything, in my opinion!

I’d love to hear in the comments about how you’re keeping cool this summer!

I’m always trying to do something new with millets and bring them into everyday dining because they are healthy, seasonal and affordable. In South India, they were actually the ancient traditional staple, not rice or wheat as it is today, and so they can be said to be perfect for Macrobiotic diets here. Different varieties of local millets have featured on this blog in recipes past (I’ve linked to a few at the end of this post). Today, the star is ragi, which you may also know as finger millet, teff or kezhvaragu.

Ragi is rich in calcium, iron and antioxidants, as well as high in fibre. This means that its benefits include everything from weight control to skin rejuvenation to curing anaemia. A dry-season crop that tolerates many different kinds of soil, it is easy to cultivate. It features in a large variety of South Indian dishes, from Kerala puttu to Karnataka ragi mudde to the koozh that is offered to the Goddess in Tamil Nadu. It is also eaten everywhere from Vietnam to numerous countries in Africa, where it originated.

I want to share with you the recipe for ragi millet dosa. Dosa is a South Indian crepe, similar to chilla. It is popularly made with rice flour, which I substitute almost entirely with ragi millet. It’s always exciting to add your own twist to something traditional. That’s the challenge of cooking as well – you can’t just throw in something and hope it sticks. How do you combine flavours so they work well and complement one another? It may seem simple and obvious to take two South Indian staples – ragi millets and dosas – and put them together. But this is not so, because in the case of any millet dosa, it is not only a matter of ingredients. The main question is: will the crepe peel off beautifully? Ragi has a sticky consistency, which can make this tricky. As those of us who make dosas regularly know, certain ingredients are added or removed to facilitate this peeling. This is why I still use a little bit of rice flour in the batter. Rice flour both adds crispiness to the dosa, as well as enables it to peel off properly.

As I’ve mentioned in the past, I ensure that all my powders and flours are homemade, ground by a trusted small mill.  We grow both rice and ragi on our farm, so I know for sure that the ingredients in this dish, and any rice-based dishes eaten at home, are organic.

To come back to dosas and twists on the same – you can make your own variations of the dish below by adding vegetables to the crepe after it has been folded, or serving it with an assortment of chutneys. Here, I give you the recipe for a simple peanut chutney, which is a current favourite (peanuts are also grown on my farm). Ragi millet dosa is something I reach for often when I try to stay fit, and it’s always a satisfying meal.

Living in South India, dosa (or dosai) is something I’ve taken for granted. It really is a universally loved dish, as this story about my dog Coco will tell you. When she was pregnant years ago, she absolutely craved dosas! I would have one made especially for her every day, and she would simply refuse to eat it if it did not contain salt! My Coco is now sixteen years old and going strong, and the healthiest in my house since she eats fresh food every day. Now, her son Max also craves dosas, probably influenced by his mother’s taste during her pregnancy with him, and I always share mine with them both.

 

Ragi Millet Dosa

(Yield: 6 dosas)

Ingredients
½ cup ragi flour

1 tablespoon rice flour

1 teaspoon cumin

1 teaspoon paste of green chilli and ginger

1 tablespoon grated coconut

¾ cup water

1 tablespoon yoghurt

Finely chopped curry leaves

Finely chopped onions

Salt to taste

In a bowl, mix the ragi and rice flours in water until there are no lumps. Then add all the remaining ingredients. Stir until they all blend well together and become a smooth batter. Do not add too much water as this will make the batter too thin.

These dosas can either be prepared immediately, or the batter can be left to sit for about half an hour, letting the flavours blend more.

To fry a dosa is like frying any crepe. Add a few drops of oil on a heated iron griddle. Now lower the flame and pour 1 small cup of the batter onto the griddle, and spread it out in a circular motion until it is spread thin. Dot the edges with oil and increase the flame to high. Allow the dosa to turn dark on the edges, then flip over and allow to fry for a few minutes. Flip again once before you take it off the stove. Fold and serve with the peanut chutney, or a condiment of your choice.

 

Peanut Chutney

(Yield: 1 cup)

Ingredients

½ cup roasted peanuts

1 teaspoon channa dal

1 teaspoon udad dal

1½  teaspoons tamarind paste

1 teaspoon grated ginger

¼ cup water

2 red chilies

A sprig of curry leaves

A few drops of oil

Salt to taste

 


Sauté the dals in a few drops of oil. Once they turn golden, add the dals along with the peanuts and ginger in a blender. Blend until coarse.

Now, to temper the chutney. Put a few drops of oil in a pan and add the mustard seeds and cumin seeds. Wait till they splutter and then add the red chillies and curry leaves. When they have been coated in the hot oil, immediately pour the tempering over the chutney. It is now ready to be eaten as a dip with the crispy hot dosas.

I’m an evangelist when it comes to millets and truly believe in their ability to transform our unhealthy modern diets. This is why they have featured so many times on this blog. If you’re curious about more dishes that incorporate these simple and satisfying ingredients, do check out this tag and spend some time exploring my past recipes. Here are a few of my favourite selections from the same: little millet rice with beans poriyal, chakkara pongal and vegan chili.

My childhood summers were almost always spent in Vijayawada, where my maternal grandparents lived. If you’ve followed my blog for some time, you may remember when I mentioned their huge fridge or the vetiver-scented curtains in their rooms. So many precious memories were made there as we grew up. Maybe one reason why the scent and flavour of roses are such a vital element in the re:store kitchen is because they always evoke for me one very special taste from those long-ago days:  rose sherbet.

This is my aunt’s recipe, and she made it almost ceremonially every summer in Vijayawada. Or so it felt to me, at least, because the luscious colours and fragrance – and that wonderful, cool taste at the end of it all – were so grand. The household had a very traditional kitchen, despite the ultra-modern fridge, and there was no dining table. In one corner was a puja area, where the gods were always served first, which is why our custom is to never taste food as it is being cooked. Followed by the offering to the gods, the kids would be served. Leaves would be laid on the floor in rows, and my siblings, cousins and I would sit down cross-legged and eat. Banana leaves are popular in South India, but we also used sal or banyan leaves, known as patravali (and locally as istrakku). Leaves are not only a traditional form of crockery, they are also environmentally-friendly. They are biodegradable and are a single-use item, thus requiring no water wastage during cleaning.

Sitting on the floor expectantly, the leaf before me, I would glance up and look at the amazing array of glass bottles on the shelves. My aunt collected these in every colour and shape, and this beautiful mismatched display was used to store her luscious rose sherbet. We would each be treated to a single glass of it after lunch, so I always looked forward to the end of the meal. The sherbet would be mixed with either water or milk. The latter was a healthy concession (because this is a sugary beverage), as well as a way to get us kids excited about drinking milk.

Sherbet is a drink brought to India from the Middle East, as its name indicates, coming from the Turkish “şerbet”, Persian “sharbat” and Arabic “sharba”. Naturally cooling, it is a concentrate made of either flowers or fruits, which is diluted. It is sometimes spiced but always sweetened.

I had the good fortune of having my aunt visit recently. She is in her 80s now and as we reminisced about the good times, we ended up making a fresh batch of rose sherbet in my home. Now it’s my shelves that are lined with those gleaming pink bottles.

The roses we used are the pretty local ones known as “paneer roja”, which may be familiar to you as damask rose or country rose. They grow well in the tough weather conditions of Chennai, and they are so fragrant. Prepare for your entire kitchen to smell like heaven as you make this recipe. And why not? You deserve it. On those long summer days, like the ones we’ve started to have in Chennai now, it’s the perfect cheat day beverage. So cooling and so decadent!

 

Rose Sherbet

(Yield: Approximately 2 litres)

Ingredients

2 litres water

150 grams rose petals

1½  kilograms sugar

1 teaspoon citric acid

1 teaspoon rose extract

2 pinches of raspberry colour

Pick and clean the rose petals. Place them in a vessel, cover with a lid, and let them soak in water overnight.

The following morning, crush the petals well using your hands or a hand blender. The water will now change colour.

Squeeze the petals using your hands and strain and pour the rose water into a big steel pot and place it over a medium flame. Discard the petals. Add the sugar and stir constantly. Be careful not to allow the sugar to crystallise – this is a precise art.

Boil and stir until the water turns sticky when touched between your fingers. Then, turn off the flame and add the citric acid. Make sure you stir the pot well and the citric acid blends completely. Cover the pot with a net and allow to cool.

After a few hours, add some rose extract and the raspberry red colour to the sherbet. The latter is optional, but look at how delightful the drink looks when you do it! Kids will especially get a thrill from that rich colour.

Strain the sherbet, then use a funnel to pour the syrup into glass bottles. Store in a cool place. This beverage does not require refrigeration.

To serve, add 2 tablespoons of the syrup into a glass. Pour cold water until it fills the glass and mix lightly.

In my home, the favourite finishing touch is always a topping of ice cubes and a squeeze of lemon. Rose sherbet is so very refreshing, as well as so lovely to look at. You’ll have to do what my aunt did when we were kids and restrict yourself – just one sugary-sweet glass a day!

 

The lovely, versatile mung bean (also known as moong and green gram) found pride of place in one of my recent recipes for a street food-inspired snack, green moong bhel. If you tried your hand at that, its taste will be familiar to you even if you didn’t grow up eating it. The beauty of mung is that it can be in everything from a simple Sri Lankan breakfast to creamy desserts relished in South East Asia. Here in India, a Gujarati staple known as khatta mung is something I make quite often. It’s a particular go-to dish when I feel like I need to keep my weight in check, or to just bring a healthier balance into my meals. While it’s traditionally enjoyed with rotis or rice, I like to have it as a meal-in-a-bowl. Think of it as one more variant of an Indian salad, perhaps inspired by a more flavourful compact meal.

There’s a particular reason why khatta mung and other mung-based dishes are Gujarati staples. That’s because the humble mung bean is regarded as auspicious in my culture, and is even used in housewarming and other special ceremonies. It is a symbol of health, but is also affordable and accessible – so any family can have it. It is also of importance to Jainism, especially when devotees break their nine-day fasts. The very first thing that they consume upon doing so is a sip of mung water. Not only is it high in protein and energy-restoring, it also does not shock the stomach after the fasting period. You could think of mung as a traditional protein powder, accomplishing what modern glucose drinks do. Mung, both whole and split, is also consumed widely for every day meals, and some other classic dishes include mung dhokla (wholesome, steamed savoury cakes) and pesseretta (which is a crepe like a dosa).

“Khatta” literally means “sour”, and indicates the use of yoghurt in the dish. Yoghurt can be removed from the ingredients if you wish to make it vegan-style. There will not be much difference in the taste, especially if you add a twist of lemon for the tang. As with all Gujarati dishes, there is an interplay of sweetness and sourness in khatta mung, so I always add a hint of jaggery too. It lifts the saltiness of the dal and improves the flavours overall. Some people add garlic, onions and various condiments, but I personally feel that the more basic the dish is, the better it tastes. You’ll find that the spices remain the same for most dishes, but palates differ from family to family. I prefer simplicity, so that the original flavours are maintained and not doused with additives. Have you noticed how people today seek out cookbooks on how to simple eating and healthy cuisines, without recognising that that’s what was happening in their own kitchens growing up? As always, the unfussiness of my mother’s cooking style is what inspires my own work, although I am always curious and glad to learn – and always, to share what I learn as well.

 

Khatta Mung

(Yield: 3-5 cups)

Ingredients

½ cup whole moong dal

2+2 cups water

Salt to taste

1 teaspoon cumin powder

1 teaspoon dhaniya powder

¼ teaspoon turmeric

1 teaspoon jaggery

½ teaspoon chili powder

1 teaspoon ghee

¼ teaspoon mustard seeds

¼ teaspoon cumin seeds

2 tablespoons yoghurt

Soak the moong dal in water for an hour. Then, pressure cook the dal with 2 cups of water until the lentils are soft to the touch. Meanwhile, beat the yoghurt until it resembles a fine paste.

Empty the cooked dal into a pot and add the turmeric, water, salt, jaggery, yoghurt, cumin powder and dhaniya powder. Now, allow to boil for 7-10 minutes until all the flavours blend well.

In a small tempering pan, add the ghee. Once the ghee is hot, add the whole cumin and mustard seeds. They will splutter. Add the chilli powder and stir. Immediately, pour the sizzling tempering into the mung dal. Garnish with finely chopped coriander leaves. It is now ready to serve. You may eat it with rice, rotis and other kinds of breads – or even just by itself, a delicious and filling meal-in-a-bowl.

I like this spiced up version of the standard healthy meal-in-a-bowl which is usually comprised of millets, grains or legumes because it is flavourful without compromising on nutrition. And in true Gujju style, the hint of sweetness from the jaggery makes the whole pot irresistible! I like to finish mine off with a glass of fresh buttermilk… So filling, so heartening.

I hope you’ve been enjoying this series on traditional dishes made from leftovers (please see Part 1 and Part 2, if you haven’t already). To recap: in the absence of refrigeration, and because of the need to conserve resources, many cuisines in India and elsewhere developed sub-genres. These culinary sub-genres make use of extras either prepared during the initial cooking, or kept aside after the meal. Using these leftovers, a new dish is prepared. Fridges are really quite new for most of India. I remember visiting my grandparents’ home in Vijayawada one summer when they had purchased a huge fridge. It was such a novelty that neighbours would visit just to see the machine. Besides, not wasting food has long been considered a cultural virtue.

Today, the recipe I want to share with you is a classic go-to dish: masala curd rice, made in my mother’s Gujarati style. It was a staple in my house for Sunday dinner while I was growing up. This was because we had school the next day, and our mother would be busy helping us with our homework. In those days, we had no help at home, so our dad taught us how to iron our own uniforms and polish our own shoes. These tasks would keep us occupied on Sundays as we prepared for the school week ahead. By the time dinner came, we were usually too tired to think much. So we never minded the unfussiness of the meal. And mom, of course, was always relieved to make this easy dish.

Leftover rice is something that lends itself easily to a variety of dishes. For instance, there are theplas, which you may remember from this post on Indian breads. There are also muthias, which are made by adding flour and spices to the rice, rolling them and steaming them.

South Indians have their own methods too, including their own curd rice (known as thayirsadam), as well as pazhayachoru, in which rice is fermented overnight with a green chilli in it. This was originally a staple among farmers, who started their days early and needed to have a meal ready in the morning. You may be surprised to know that it is very healthy. The American Nutrition Association in fact recommends rice soaked the previous day as the best breakfast, with a host of benefits for the health including increased energy, decreased hypertension and good digestion.

This Gujarati Masala Curd Rice is yoghurt-based, which means that it is of course rich in probiotics and excellent for digestion. The spices used are available in literally every kitchen cabinet in India.

 

Gujarati Masala Curd Rice

(Yield: 1 ½ cups)

Ingredients

1 cup cooked rice

½ cup yoghurt

1 tsp chickpea flour

Salt to taste

1 dried red chilli (not too spicy)

A few curry leaves

¼ teaspoon turmeric powder

½ teaspoon coriander/cumin powder

Asafoetida (optional)

2 teaspoon oil

¼ teaspoon cumin seeds

¼ teaspoon mustard seeds

Remember: the key to the dishes in this Second Helpings series is their simplicity. This one in particular is so simple, yet so filling.

In a pot, add the oil and once it’s hot, add the cumin and mustard seeds. Wait till they splutter, and then add the red chilli and curry leaves. Immediately after, add the yoghurt and flour and stir so that the yoghurt does not split. Now, add all the remaining ingredients and stir.

Garnish with coriander leaves and serve hot. Gujarati Masala Curd Rice is a meal in itself, and is both flavourful and cooling. Ideal for summers, for light evening meals following afternoon feasts and as comfort food in general.

I hope you’ve enjoyed this Second Helpings series. I’d love to hear from you in the comments below about the dishes you make, or remember eating as you grew up, that fall into the resourceful, innovative category of “leftovers”. I’m sure your parents were so excellent at whipping up what seemed like a whole new dish that you didn’t always know that that’s actually what they were!