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Even though I grew up in Chennai and have enjoyed the regional cuisine throughout my life, when it comes to podis or condiment powders, I didn’t quite understand the nuances of the food type until I was older and began to really consider the technicalities of the art of cooking. I did not know, for instance, that idli podi is different from molagai podi (the recipe for which I shared with you recently), or that curry leaf podi is different from both of these. There are many other varieties too, of course, and each kind has particular uses.

As a child, at friends’ homes and at wedding celebrations, I would consume podis but didn’t really notice what kind was served. At most, I would wonder why a little spoonful of powder would be on one side of the banana leaf, and I would taste it but I would not necessarily think beyond that. By now of course, my awareness has deepened, and so has my expertise in preparation. I’m glad to share this curry leaf podi recipe with you, and I hope you’ll be able to discern its uniqueness too.

Curry leaf podi is usually enjoyed mixed into either gingelly oil or ghee and eaten as an accompaniment to hot rice, or else idly or dosa. It enhances the flavour of the main dish, and significantly cuts down on cooking time when one needs to eat in a hurry. It is the key to a very simple and fast meal that is still tasty. It also works beautifully when a meal contains a few more dishes, adding a touch of spice that elevates the plate (or the leaf) on the whole. Unlike pickles, which are very pungently flavoured, a podi is subtler while still packing a punch. The quantities consumed are more liberal as opposed to pickles, which is why blending into rice becomes possible. I also presume – or maybe I just imagine – that podis were traditionally used mostly in summertime when the curry leaf plant thrives and there is a dearth of vegetables, other than some water-based ones. Nature’s seasons and human resourcefulness both have deep impacts on how we eat, when we eat and how much we eat.

I have shared about the goodness of curry leaves before, along with some photos of the flowering shrub. You may have also noticed lush stems of it in many of my photographs across this blog. That is because whenever I want to incorporate a natural element into a frame, I often step into the garden and pluck some for my photoshoot. Here, we often take it for granted as it grows in many backyards. It is used across South Indian cuisines, and is truly one of the most delicious herbs in this part of the country. It imparts any dish it is used in with a distinct flavour. More often than not, most of us pick out the curry leaves and abandon them on the side of the plate, since the flavour has already been steeped into the dish, but this is a waste. The leaves have a nice taste themselves, and moreover are rich with antioxidants.

If you ever visit me at home, you may find me adding curry leaves to a Gujarati dal perhaps – but that is only because of my exposure, for it is hardly used in my ancestral cooking, if at all. It doesn’t grow there, but as I often say, I grew up right here – like this plant! Of course, my fusion experiments go beyond these two cultures, such as in the making of this curry leaf hummus. Here, however, I offer a condiment that is as authentic as possible.

Curry Leaf Podi
(Yield: Approximately 1½ cups)

1 tablespoon urad dal
1 tablespoon channa dal
1 teaspoon cumin seeds
1 teaspoon sesame seeds
1 cup fresh curry leaves
3-5 red dried red chilies
1 tablespoon desiccated coconut
½ teaspoon asafoetida
1 tablespoon oil
Salt to taste

Rinse and wash the curry leaves well. Then, pat them dry in a cloth. Lay them out in the sun to dry. In summer, they will dry up in a day. Alternatively, you could place them in the oven on a low temperature and allow them to dehydrate until they are crisp to the touch.

When ready to prepare the curry leaf podi, add the oil in a pan. Dry roast the urad dal, channa dal, sesame seeds, dried red chillies and cumin seeds until the ingredients are golden. Finally, add the desiccated coconut and asafoetida. Allow all these to roast all together for a short time.

In a blender jar, add all the roasted ingredients along with the dried curry leaves and salt. Blend until you get a coarse powder.

Store in an airtight jar. Serve with rice, idly and dosa, or experiment with using this condiment in your own versatile ways. I would eat it with rotis and theplas too, for instance. I have shared various other condiment recipes in the past – not just powders, but pickles and more too – and I hope you’ll explore my archives and find other interesting ways to liven up your enjoyment of a meal too.

“Podi” means “powder” in Tamil and the word is used for a variety of dry condiments. One highly versatile one is molagai podi, the primary ingredient of which is the red chilli. It is an accompaniment that is typically served with idli or dosa. It is mixed with ghee or gingelly oil into a thick paste that resembles a chutney’s consistency, and eaten with these main dishes. I also like to sprinkle molagai podi on potatoes or other dishes to enhance their taste. It can be used in plenty of ways – once you make a batch, you’ll find yourself reaching for it quite a lot.

Nowadays, I also notice restaurants serving podi idli or podi dosa, with the powder dusted on top rather than on the side. It reminds me of the tiffin boxes carried by my friends when we were back in school, when their moms would sprinkle the powder on top of the dosa for a little flavour, so as to maintain a dry lunchbox. I would send my kids off to school with mini idlis served like this myself, with the spice quotient adjusted for their intake, and with the knowledge that the cute size of the idlis would hold their attention well. Of course, when one has the option to eat at home and at leisure, convenience is not the main factor, and ghee and oil can be used to enhance the taste.

The dosa itself has so many variants served in just about any restaurant now, and while I understand the novelty factor, I lean a bit more traditional and stick to the plain dosa with the basic chutneys, podis and sambar that I grew up with. That said, when I am entertaining at home – especially when I have Gujarati relatives coming here and I want to show off the local cuisine – I prefer to serve a wider variety of condiments. I will include this molagai podi, of course, but will perhaps add a curry leaf podi. That is usually eaten with rice but I feel it goes well with dosas too. That’s the next recipe I will share on this blog, so do keep an eye out for it.

Of course, the easiest of all methods is to just buy readymade podis. There are excellent ones out there and I myself have bought them when lazy or in a hurry. Still, I remain a stickler about finding out what goes into each dish I serve and I enjoy doing things myself, especially in the kitchen.

Not long ago, I decided to try making my own molagai podi too, with the help of my friend Anandi. She is an expert in Tamil cuisine and my go-to person for any recipes I want to learn to make authentically. I give her a call, and she generously shares her mom’s recipes, techniques and tips.

My molagai podi usually came from Anandi’s home, but when I got it into my head that I wanted try making it too, she was only happy to help. This is not my first trial at molagai podi. I have made it a few times now, and it gets better with practice. The same will be true for all your cookery attempts, as they have been for all of mine.

Being in the region where the cuisine emerged and evolved in means that authenticity is possible, thanks to the right ingredients, climatic conditions and so on. As I’ve said at other times on this blog, fun matters most when cooking and eating, but there is also something special about perfecting a dish exactly as it has been made for generations. In order to retain that effect and that quality, one must also keep passing it along. My grown children have established their own homes and kitchens, and I am encouraging the notion of being aware of exactly what goes into their food. I hope my approach inspires them.

Now, let me also clarify that what we have here is an authentic variant of molagai podi. Different regions and communities will have their tweaks and renditions, and ultimately it still comes down to the person who makes the podi. Everyone has their own touch and their own style. Either way, you will get a spicy punch that you’ll love adding to your everyday meals!

Molagai Podi
(Yield: Approximately 1½ cups)

1 cup black urad dal
1 cup channa dal
2 tablespoons toor dal
1 teaspoon methi/fenugreek seeds
3-4 tablespoons sesame seeds
½ teaspoon asafoetida
50 dried red chillies
1 tablespoon gingelly oil

Roast the urad dal, toor dal and channa dal separately, until they get fragrant. Set them all aside.

Roast the sesame seeds and the methi seeds together. Set aside.

Now add the oil to the pan and add the dry red chillies. Finally, add the asafoetida. Once the chillies have roasted, remove from the pan.

Add all the ingredients in a blender and blend well.

Store in a jar and use as required. You’ll enjoy this versatile condiment in numerous ways, I’m sure. Don’t be afraid to venture beyond the traditional idli, dosa and rice uses – let it pep up any dish where you feel the spicy flavour would enhance the experience!

I may sound like I am repeating myself, but what I am about to say (again) is just one of those basic facts about me: if you put a gun to my head and ask me to choose whether I like Gujarati cuisine or Tamil cuisine better, I would very quickly and quite happily admit that it’s the latter. Even though I am Gujarati, I grew up here in Chennai, and as much as I love the food of my culture, the food of my surroundings has my heart. Among the dishes I cherish most is tamarind rice, and I’ll tell you why.

South India has been described as the rice bowl of the country, and there are hundreds of varieties grown here, as I’ve discussed in the past. The different cuisines in the Southern states also lean heavily towards rice dishes, as well as those that use rice flour as a chief ingredient. As with all parts of India, traditional food is always thoughtfully designed to serve two objectives in particular: healthiness and seasonality. Certain items are prepared year-round, and I believe tamarind rice falls into this category.

That impression may have been formed of course by the fact that tamarind rice is the standard prasadam, or food served to the deities and then to devotees, across temples in South India. Perhaps that is because it is fast and easy to make, and because the tamarind acts like a preservative, allowing the dish to keep better as well as to travel a bit – which is great if someone wants to take some home after a pilgrimage.

Moreover, a selection of flavourful dishes is also always served on the side in elaborate banana leaf meals at special events like weddings. Coconut rice and lemon rice will be present as well, but it’s the tamarind rice that I always reach out for most eagerly.

Tamarind itself is an ingredient that’s important in this part of the world. Its English name comes from the Arabic term “tamr hindī”, or “date of India”, referencing its value as a trade item. While the tree is indigenous to Africa, it is so thoroughly naturalized on the Indian subcontinent that even its scientific name, Tamarindus indica, carries a nod to this region. Not only was the fruit coveted globally, but the tree has been valued here through time. I remember encountering many stories in books as a child in which tamarind trees were considered the trees of travellers. This was because they were planted alongside routes in order to provide shade and coolness. The canopy is huge and a person or small group can easily rest beneath one. There are still many tamarind trees around in Chennai today, though perhaps not as many as when I was growing up. I have fond memories of the ones that grew in my school’s compound. We would wait for strong breezes to blow the fruit off, to the ground, and race to collect them.

The raw, deseeded fruit can be soaked and used to flavour food, or else made into a chutney, which my mother would prepare quite often back then. She would also make tamarind rice, and let me be honest – as much as I am in awe of her culinary skills, I’ll be honest and say that it wasn’t her finest dish. It was sort of her own version, and I knew even back then that it wasn’t quite as tasty as the tamarind rice served in the temple near my grandparents’ house. Still, it was a start, and I appreciate that for a busy homemaker it would have been a simple dish to put together on days when she had less time to cook.

Nowadays, there are even easier ways of making tamarind rice. Readymade mixtures are sold in shops, almost in a pickle form, and mixing a dollop with cooked rice is all it takes. But I’ve always felt that there’s a special pleasure in making things from scratch. This particular recipe was taught to me by a sloka teacher I had a few years ago. After classes, she would come into my kitchen and teach me some authentic recipes, including this ginger chutney. She made a delicious tamarind rice paste, and the method she taught me is what goes into this preparation.

As for the rice used, I’ve gone ahead with the common ponni, which is a small-grained, boiled variety. This is easily accessible to me, and I suggest you choose one that is available wherever you are in the world. A short, stout rice works best to absorb the deep flavours of the paste and spices.

Tamarind Rice
(Yield: Serves 4)

2 cups cooked rice

Spice Powder
½ teaspoon methi/fenugreek seeds
2 teaspoons coriander seeds
2 teaspoons sesame seeds
6-8 dry red chilies
1 teaspoon whole black pepper

Tamarind paste
¼ cup sesame oil
1 teaspoon mustard seeds
2 teaspoons channa dal
½ teaspoon turmeric
3-4 dry red chilies
1 teaspoon urad dal
A handful of curry leaves
½ teaspoon asafoetida powder
¼ cup peanuts
Salt to taste
1 tablespoon jaggery
1 large lime-sized ball of tamarind
2 cups water

Dry roast each of the spice powder ingredients separately. Allow to cool and then powder them all together. Set aside. Soak the tamarind ball in warm water. Once soaked, squeeze and extract the pulp as much as possible. Discard the fibre.

Heat a pan and add the oil. Now, add the mustard seeds, chillies, channa dal and urad dal. Roast slightly and then add the asafoetida and curry leaves.

Add the tamarind pulp, salt and turmeric powder. Stir. Cover and allow to simmer until the raw smell of tamarind goes away. This will take approximately 10-15 minutes.

Remove from the flame and allow to cool.

To assemble the tamarind rice, put the 2 cups of cooked rice in a bowl. Add ¼ cup of the tamarind mixture. Using your hands, gently mix it well into the rice. Add 1 tablespoon of sesame oil to bring all the flavours together. Tamarind rice need not be eaten hot, and this is now ready to serve. Store the remaining tamarind mixture in a glass jar and refrigerate. I’d say it can be used for about a couple of weeks.

Rice is such a fixture in many homes in Asia and other parts of the world, and it can get a little boring. I have more recipes in the archives that may bring some novelty to your rice consumption, and I hope you’ll explore them.

When it comes to recipes, sometimes just having one of a certain dish isn’t enough. I have shared my own version of roast potatoes on this blog in the past, but lately I have felt inspired to start making them in the Tamil Nadu style more often. As someone born and brought up in Chennai, this dish is one that I have known and enjoyed all my life, as will anyone who loves a spicy accompaniment.

When I said I was feeling inspired, this was in part because one of my favourite pastimes is surfing the Internet for all things to do with food. I love looking up and reading about the subject, seeing what people out there are making, and watching videos not just on trends but also on classic dishes. They may or may not be authentic, but they are exciting just the same. I choose whichever I am interested in, tweak the recipes a bit based on my preferences, and they often turn out yummy. Through this blog, I am a part of that community too, and contribute to it. It feels special to know that we are all inspirations to one another, and to me this is true whether in the art world or in cooking or in writing or in so many other arenas. Online and offline, my passion for recipes – creating them, discovering them, and sharing them – is joy-bringing, I love being gifted or gifting nice cookbooks too. It has long been a dream of mine to publish one of my own, and this is the year in which that will come to fruition.

Coming back to the South Indian-style roast potatoes, let me just say at the outset that it’s okay to indulge in carbs and a little extra oil sometimes. I try not to do either too often, so when I do I choose my favourites and make sure I relish them. This dish is one I have become such a pro at that I even make the masala at home, powdering and keeping a fair quantity to use as needed. I have shared the recipe for that too, and recommend that you take a little extra time to prepare that too. You’ll taste and smell the difference it makes.

The aroma and flavour truly take me back to my school days, when many of my friends would bring curd rice in their tiffin boxes with roast potatoes on the side. The moment that lunch was unpacked was special: the fragrance of deep-fried, well-seasoned potatoes would rise. It would be irresistible. We loved sharing our lunches, as I’ve shared in earlier posts like this spinach rice recipe.

I will admit: carb-consciousness has made me like potatoes somewhat less now than I used to, or at least eat them less often. But as a child and a teenager, I simply adored them. So much so that when I first started learning how to cook, I told my mom that the first dish I would prepare on my own would feature this ingredient. I had also been inspired by my older brother. When our mom travelled, he would make my sister and I sit in the kitchen and watch as he prepared potato sabzi and roti for us. So at around age 14 or 15, under her supervision, I made a simple sautéed potato dish with barely anything but salt. Salt, heat and oil are all that’s really needed to make a potato taste good, anyhow.

Still, what a long way I have come since that basic fried potato dish! From nothing-but-salt to grinding my own spices, from the easiest way to the elaborate and the innovative. I continue to learn every day, and the journey goes on. I am so glad to have you along on mine, sharing recipes that make life more delicious.

South Indian Roast Potatoes
(Yield: Serves 2)

250 grams potatoes
Salt to taste
½ teaspoon turmeric powder
¼ tsp mustard seeds
½ teaspoon urad dal
¼ tsp cumin seeds
¼ tsp asafoetida
A few curry leaves
2-3 tablespoons oil
3-4 Kashmiri red chillies (whole)
2 tablespoons onions (finely chopped)

Spice powder
1 tsp urad dal
½ teaspoon methi seeds
½ teaspoon cumin seeds
1 teaspoon channa dal
1 teaspoon oil

Boil, peel and dice the potatoes. Set aside.

In a pan, begin to prepare the spice powder by adding the one teaspoon of oil. Once it has heated, add all the spice powder ingredients and roast until golden. Remove onto a plate and allow to cool. Now blend coarsely and keep ready.

In the same pan, add the 2 tablespoons of oil, and once heated add the mustard seeds, cumin seeds and urad dal. Once they turn golden and splutter, add the red chilies, curry leaves and asafoetida.

To this, add the onions first. Sauté and then add the potatoes and the freshly-made spice powder. Sprinkle with salt and turmeric powder. Mix this all together well. Allow to roast until it all comes together well and the potatoes are slightly golden at the bottom.

This dish works as a great accompaniment for dosas, rotis or any kind of rice dish. If you’d like to explore more potato dishes or more South Indian flavours, there’s more in the blog archives where this came from!

 

On the first Sunday of every month, through my childhood, my mother would make my siblings and I stand in a line and consume a very bitter Ayurvedic powder, which was mixed into a quarter glass of water for each of us. This was a non-negotiable, and we hated it, dreading those Sundays for that very reason. We were forced to drink it up because her claim was that it cleared the stomach of any bugs, infections or worms and contributed to overall good health. I don’t know exactly what was in that powder, which was from a brand that has now long become obsolete, but I presume it contained fenugreek leaves – known in Gujarati as methi – because of the taste, as well as its medicinal potency. It took many years, but eventually I realised my mother was right. I believe her now, and I use methi liberally in my cooking. It even makes its way into a yogurt-based curry known as kadhi. As a result, methi kadhi is both nutritious and tasty.

I have shared a kadhi recipe in the past, and this is a variation that, as mentioned, boosts the healthiness quotient. That recipe contained a few grains of methi, which I also add to various dals, whereas this one utilizes fresh leaves. Fenugreek is extremely beneficial in both seed and leaf form, and is considered by many to be a superfood. A herb that originated in the Mediterranean region, it has been cultivated in India for at least 3000 years and plays a major role in North Indian cuisines. It is known to lower blood sugar and cholesterol, improve digestion and fertility, support the immune system and even enhance skin and hair health.

I mentioned recently that I enjoyed sprouting microgreens as a kid, and methi was among the seeds I used. My sister would also grow hers separately, and we would compare notes. I don’t think we ended up consuming our homegrown herbs, but I do remember the pure joy of seeing the small shoots. Nowadays, I buy the fresh green leaves, but I prepare my own kasoori methi or dried fenugreek powder at home. It is methi season now, and the best place to prepare the powder is at my home in Ahmedabad. The combination of the winter sun and general climate there are ideal for this, whereas Chennai is more humid year-round. The leaves dry up in a day or two. I store them to use through the year, and I make enough for my homes as well as my children’s.

There are two varieties of methi that are generally available. There is one with small, thick leaves that doesn’t grow more than 6 inches, and a bigger, bushier variety. I prefer using the small one when I need fresh leaves, and the bigger one for powdering. While I feel the former is more potent in taste, the yield quantity I require for the powder is better achieved by using the latter.

Kadhis don’t appear on my dining table that frequently, because I prefer to serve dals and lentils daily instead as they contain more protein. In fact, I ate it much more frequently as a child as my father loved it and thus my mother would prepare it very regularly. I myself preferred it to dal back then, and enjoyed it when combined with a plain khichdi. This means that when I prepare any kind of kadhi now, I look forward to it all the more, since the dish was a childhood favourite that has become infrequent.

Methi Kadhi
(Yield: Serves 4)

1 cup yogurt
2 tablespoons besan (split brown chickpea flour)
1½ cups water
1½ cups methi (fenugreek leaves)
1 tablespoon ginger + green chilli paste
2 tablespoons oil
2 tablespoons ghee
Salt to taste
½ teaspoon jeera seeds (cumin)
1 cinnamon stick
2 cloves
½ teaspoon asafoetida

Take the yogurt in a bowl. Add the besan and water to it, and beat well until there are no lumps. Set aside.

Clean and finely chop the methi leaves. In a kadai, add the oil and once it has heated, add the methi leaves. Sauté until tender. Add the ginger+green chili paste.

To this, add the yoghurt and besan mixture. Add salt and cook until the raw flavour of the flour leaves and the mixture thickens. Stir continuously as it cooks, otherwise it will separate.

Now, prepare the tempering. In a frying pan, add the ghee. Once it has heated, add the jeera, cinnamon stick, cloves and asafoetida. Pour this over the kadhi.

Your methi kadhi is now ready to serve. As mentioned, it pairs perfectly with khichdi.

While there is an Indian belief that curd should be avoided at night and during winter, I would suggest that even if you follow that custom, the use of methi and besan in this kadhi provide a counterbalance. Don’t deprive yourself of this deliciousness, in any season! I may eat less of it now than I did growing up, but I certainly still do!

What has become a challenge for me recently, cooking-wise, is figuring out how to pack nourishing and interesting lunches for the office-goers in my home. While I love having a hot Gujarati thaali ready for them, it isn’t always possible for them to come home mid-day. Sometimes, they have to travel a little far, as is common in India, or the day’s schedule is especially busy. It is always better to have home-cooked food in any case, and I prefer that they do so. This means that quite often lately, my mornings begin with a question: “Oh gosh, what shall I prepare for them today?” This is different from the regular daily musings over what to cook, because time is of the essence. The food has to be packed, and made to suit various likes and dislikes, before they leave. This paneer mint paratha is a recipe that came about to fulfil exactly this need.

I know that some of my readers may wonder why these lunchboxes aren’t prepared in advance, but that is because in India it is customary to cook fresh food each day. It is rarely carried forward, except for specific dishes, such as those in the Second Helpings series that I did long ago. Leftovers are consumed as soon as possible, and innovatively. Even so, fresh, hot, home-cooked food is just a preference and a way of life for most Indians.  I think there are many reasons behind why this is the norm. One is that culturally, we don’t believe in wastage so we tend to cook in exact quantities. More often than not, even if we can afford to waste food, we prefer not to because the high levels of poverty here make an impression on us and make us conscientious. The idea is to cook only as much as is required, consume all of it, and then make more food for the next day.

Coming back to the paneer mint paratha: as I said, it is one among several recipes that I’m able to make fresh in the mornings and pack off with my loved ones for their workday lunches. My own workday therefore begins even earlier than theirs, but I’m fortunate to have household staff who help me cope with the demands of a very active kitchen that functions both for my family as well as for re:store. If you have a similar lifestyle, juggling other people’s schedules and preferences while also working either at home or beyond it, dishes like this will come very handy. The same is true if it’s your own lunchbox that you’re packing for.

A good lunchbox has to have a fair bit of thought behind it. The items in it should keep well and still maintain their taste and texture hours after packing, even if reheating is not possible. Items that may spill need to be very carefully packed. Something like this paratha, which doesn’t require a curry and is flavourful on its own, is a safer bet. That said, some curd or buttermilk on the side rounds out the meal, as does a pickle or chutney. These enhance the experience of eating on the go. I really believe that there should be something to look forward to during such lunch breaks, even if they are short and without frills. Filling the tummy is only one aspect of it. Even if eaten straight out of a lunchbox while pausing for just a few minutes, the meal should be appealing and rejuvenate the person who eats it so that they can carry on with the rest of their busy day.

I also came up with this particular paratha because I’ve been growing some herbs and basic vegetables in my garden, including tomatoes and – you guessed it – mint. These grow fast and are pretty easy to cultivate too. Little experiments like this are a lifelong fascination for me. As a child, I would sprinkle mustard seeds on a steel plate and be fascinated by the little shoots that appeared when I would check on them a few mornings later. That always excited me and made me proud. Now, we call these microgreens and incorporate them into healthy diets. Growing various sprouts or certain herbs ourselves is not difficult at all, even if we don’t have the space to grow plants.

Mint works especially well in summers as it has a cooling effect, but I feel it’s great at any time. It pairs well with so many other ingredients, and always gives a very refreshing touch to a dish. The paneer here can be replaced with peas, for instance. Or you can keep the paneer – that is, retain the protein boost – and include peas too. This is a compact lunch, flavour-packed, healthy and very delicious. Whether you’re eating it on the go or in a more relaxed way at home, you and your family are sure to enjoy it too.

Paneer & Mint Paratha

(Yield: 5 parathas)

Paratha

1 cup whole wheat flour
½ cup maida
¼ teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons oil
¾ cup water

Filling

1 cup paneer
2 tablespoons mint leaves (finely chopped)
1 tablespoons coriander leaves (finely chopped)
¼ teaspoon aamchur powder
¼ teaspoon chaat masala
½ teaspoon green chili-ginger paste
Salt to taste

Ghee for frying

First, prepare the dough for the paratha. In a bowl, add the flours and the salt. To this, add water. Make a tight and smooth dough. Set aside for at least 30 minutes.

Prepare the filling by adding all the ingredients to a bowl. Mix gently. Set aside.

Now, roll out the dough into 5 balls. You may find that you have some extra, which you can use for plain parathas.

Using the help of some flour, dust 1 ball and roll it out into a disc. Repeat with all five. Place a spoonful of the filling in the centre of each disc and seal the edges by folding the corners of the dough. Gently roll out the filled discs into small parathas.

Heat a griddle on a medium flame, and place a rolled-out paratha on it. Allow to cook on both sides with the help of some ghee. Roast both sides well until golden. Repeat with the remaining parathas.

Your paneer mint parathas are now ready. You may want to serve them hot with pickle or chutney of your choice, or else pack them into a lunchbox that you or a loved one can look forward to, a little later in the day! If you’re a fan of Indian breads, don’t miss my post on different rotis. There are also a range of paneer dishes to explore on the blog.

Here in India, with Diwali having just gone by, we are now officially post-festive. Having eaten all the yummy goodies we can – which included, I hope, some of the recipes I have shared here, alongside your own family specialties – it is now time for a bit of detoxing. Leaning towards lighter meals after the festivities, as well as fasting beforehand, are parts of our culinary traditions too. A simple bajra khichdi is exactly the kind of dish that tends to be preferred at this time, soothing the body after all the feasting, and it is what I’m sharing today.

It is necessary after festivities to streamline one’s diet so as to give one’s digestive system a rest. In general too, eating mindfully is a sensible choice. I want to emphasize here that detoxing is not about shedding weight. To me, that is not important. What is important is listening to one’s body, removing from one’s consumption habits what doesn’t suit it, and maintaining one’s health. Season-based eating habits are obviously a part of this.

Even up to my mother’s generation, the cycle of fasting first so that the body is prepared for feasting, feasting during the celebrations, followed by eating very simple food, was just a part of the rituals and traditions. They didn’t give it much thought, even though to us today it seems to be highly intentional. Perhaps it will help to remember that the concept of detoxing is nothing new. The only difference is that so much is available to us 24/7 nowadays that restraint becomes a choice, and moderation was not a way of life as it was earlier. That said, one definite improvement is that more and more of us are learning how to use the right bins when disposing of kitchen and other waste, aware that our consumption doesn’t end with eating or tossing.

I want to linger on the subject of detoxing, not only in terms of food but taking a more holistic perspective. It is something I think about a lot myself, and try to inculcate in various aspects of my life. Now that I am older and more conscious of the surroundings – and here I mean especially about pollution and the planet, a topic that I’ve written about before – the necessity for curbing excess and being mindful feels stronger than ever. I believe I speak for many of us, for I know from conversations I’ve been having that a desire for more simplicity and less consumption is something that we have been feeling collectively.

I’m thinking therefore of detoxing as a sort of umbrella term, encompassing one’s body, one’s home, one’s relationships, one’s schedule – life itself, really. Let me use a small and practical example here: I have been detoxing my wardrobe. This means removing items I don’t require, and learning how to purchase wisely so that fewer pieces that have more longevity and can be valued over time are selected over quantity. I want to buy less and hoard less. I tell my family, some of whom have big shopping habits, “You must enjoy and appreciate beauty, but that does not mean you should own all the beauty you enjoy.”

This thought applies equally to nature, and how we operate as travellers. When we visit a place, we must remember that preserving it is more important than simply taking it in for our own pleasure.

Then there is shedding negativity, both within ourselves and in terms of whom we choose to have in our circles. This can be quite complicated, but it is also an essential part of well-being, for we do absorb others’ energies.

There are so many aspects of our lives that could do with occasional detoxification, and food just happens to be one of the more obvious ones. Coming back to this simple bajra khichdi, it is a satisfying dish that is full of goodness and nutrients. It contains bajra or pearl millet, which is a preferred grain in Indian winters as it takes longer to metabolize and therefore helps keep us warm. It is also high in iron. I have spoken about these facts before, and encourage you to explore more bajra and millet recipes on this blog. For now, this one is just right for this time of year, both in terms of season and in terms of our social calendars!

 

Simple Bajra Khichdi

(Serves: 2-4)

1 cup broken bajra grains (pearl millet)
½ cup yellow mung dal
3 cups water
2 tablespoons ghee
½ teaspoon turmeric powder
Salt to taste
1 teaspoon cumin seeds
¼ teaspoon asafoetida
1 green chilli

If you’re unable to find broken bajra, just blend coarsely or even hand pound the grain. Rinse and soak the bajra along with the yellow mung dal for at least 4-6 hours.

Change the soaking water, then pressure cook, adding the salt and turmeric, along with 3 cups of water. Use less if required. Cook until the grains are tender and the consistency is soft.

Heat a kadai. Add ghee, cumin seeds and asafoetida. Once the cumin seeds splutter, add the green chilli and the cooked bajra. Stir until the ghee is well mixed.

Your khichdi is now ready to be served hot. I would pair it with kadhi. This will make for a very filling lunch or dinner, and it definitely in the comfort food category in every way!

The thaali as a concept is very common across Indian households. It is basically a meal with a variety of components, and the composition of each thaali varies depending on the region. It used to be a daily affair in many households, but in contemporary times more and more people have opted for lighter or more quickly prepared meals with fewer dishes involved. There is still a Gujarati thaali served in my home for lunch every day, but as my adult children set up their homes, I don’t see this happening. The thaali then becomes much more occasional and deliberate, and perhaps even festive. For that reason, I felt it would be ideal to share what goes into a Gujarati thaali with Diwali just a few days away.

A Gujarati thaali essentially contains roti, rice, a grain, a kachumber (which is a kind of salad), one or two vegetable dishes and a sweet. These are the basic elements. In my home, I do a rather non-traditional thing and eliminate the sweet dish more often than not. However, on special occasions like my mother-in-law’s birthday, a shrikhand will be included in the thaali. If I am doing trials ahead of sharing dessert recipes for this blog, those will show up there too. There’s an exception to this no-sweet tweak: when it’s mango season, aamras (sweet mango pulp), will be present on a daily basis. Of late, I am offering seva to Shrinathji at home, which means that there is prasadam once a week, and this goes into our thaalis too.

This brings in novelty now and then. The regular thaali can also be made more exciting with the addition of something like sabudana vada, paniyaram or yam chips, which can be prepared ahead of time and served again at tea-time as snacks. I tend to avoid fried goodies in my thaali, but these little things can make lunch more worth looking forward to now and then.

The regular thaali itself can be something really important. It is said that eating together itself holds families together, and I am a believer in this adage too. When it comes to something like a thaali, or any meal that is put together on a daily basis, it therefore becomes a part of the bonds that a family shares. My husband works nearby, so it is convenient for him to pop home for lunch on most days. My children are all far away, but when they come home, there is always a hot thaali available at lunch, and while they may have something else prepared if they prefer, the traditional option is always available.

I am so glad that my kids still honour a request we made when they first moved away, which is that they all return home for certain special occasions. They are made all the more special because of the effort taken. After all, that’s what family is about – taking that extra step to bond and to build love that holds for generations to come.

That brings us back to the festivities. Diwali happens to be one of those celebrations that we all gather together for, which is one of many reasons why it is one of my favourite festivals. I’m eagerly anticipating how in just a few days, over the dining table, there is going to be so much camaraderie, noise, chatter, shouting, fighting and affection – each in the right portions, exactly like a thaali should be presented too. Our Diwali lunches are one of the highlights of the year, and an elaborate thaali is always served. Having this experience, year after year, is something I wouldn’t trade for the world. This is the spread in the thaali this year: peas pulao, bottle gourd thepla, raita bhindi, mixed dal, simple salad, potato roast and of course the once-annual laapsi for dessert. I am happy to share this year’s thaali with you too. Most of these recipes have already been shared over the years, and are linked below along with two new ones for your enjoyment.

I would also like to take this auspicious moment to share something that I’ve been working on for a while. This year, this blog turned 8 years old, and it has really been a journey of growth, discovery and enjoyment. Over time, I have grown in my conviction about my own work, encouraged by well-wishers like you. I am happy to share that I will soon release a cookbook, featuring selected recipes from this blog along with an array of new ones. I want it to be a keepsake that can be passed from hand to hand and from kitchen to kitchen. First and foremost, it is so that my children will have something solid through which to reminisce about their growing years and their family, and to replicate some of their comfort foods and festive favourites. Beyond that, my book will also be for you – and for everyone who loves the experience of preparing a meal. I’ll share more about this project in the coming months. In the meanwhile, I wish you and yours a wonderful Diwali!

Gujarati Thaali

Bottle Gourd Thepla

Mixed Dal

Salad [make a simple one of your choice; for more elaborate ones, see the archive]

Roast Potatoes

Laapsi

Peas Pulao

1 cup cooked basmati rice
1-inch stick cinnamon
2 cloves
1 cardamom
1 star anise
Salt to taste
½ cup cooked/tender green peas
½ teaspoon cumin seeds
1 tablespoon ghee

Heat a pan. Add the ghee and once it is hot, add cumin seeds. Once they splutter, add the cinnamon, star anise, cloves and cardamom.

Sauté and then add cooked green peas, cooked basmati rice and salt. Mix well and gently until it all comes together. Your peas pulao is ready.

Bhindi Raita

1 cup curd
¼ cup finely sliced bhindi (okra/lady’s finger)
Salt to taste
2 tablespoons coconut pieces
1 green chilli
½ teaspoon cumin seeds
½ teaspoon + ¼ teaspoon oil
¼ teaspoon mustard seeds
2-3 dry red chillies

In a blender jar, grind together the coconut, green chilli and cumin seeds until coarse. Set aside.

Heat a pan and add ½ teaspoon oil. To this, add the finely sliced bhindi. Allow to cook on a low flame until the vegetable is golden and slightly tender on both sides.

In another bowl, add the curd with the ground coconut-green chilli-cumin mixture, along with salt. Mix well. Add the sautéed okra and mix gently. Refrigerate until serving.

In a heated pan, add the remaining oil, mustard seeds and red chilli. Temper and pour on top of the raita before serving.

Whether you make all the dishes at once and serve them on a thaali, or try them out one by one, I hope that you’ll find much delight in this year’s Gujarati-style Diwali thaali!

Maharashtra and Gujarat are neighbouring Indian states, so there is a great deal that is shared between them. Many Gujaratis migrated to Bombay in generations prior and adapted to its culture, as a part of my family did too, and certain customs overlap as a result. A similar climate means that certain types of produce are grown in both places, which then of course go into the cuisines. Like poha, the sabudana vada is a dish that originates in Maharashtra but is often thought of as Gujarati because it is a staple for us too.

Sabudana vada is a deep-fried delight with a mashed potato base, and with sago pearls (made from taro root) added to it. Something that is unique about it is that it is a dish that is popular during certain kinds of religious fasts, but it is also so tasty that it makes its way into festive arrays as well. With Navaratri just having come to a close this year, and with Diwali not far away, it’s the perfect time to enjoy this crispy snack.

While I definitely encountered sabudana vada during childhood travels to Bombay, to me its most resonant memories from my growing years are from life at home in Chennai, where it was a dish that my mother prepared very often. Specifically, it was one of the few dishes that she consumed during her customary fast on the 11th day of each month, known as “agiyaras”. Other ritual-related specialties would include buckwheat or barnyard millet (“moraiyo”), depending on the event, the season and so on. There were also certain kinds of fasts in which grains were to be avoided, in which case the sabudana vada was perfect.

For any fast in which a single meal could be consumed during the day, such as on agiyaras, the starchiness of sabudana vada would offer energy through the day. It would be had alongside some form of dairy. I would enjoy these meals along with my mother while I was growing up, although I did not myself fast. She was also very connected to the Gujarati community in the city, and I would go with her when she went to the temple.

In this way, she inculcated certain traditions in me that I still have great admiration for. I have tried to pass them on to my children as well, even while I respect that they are free to choose the religious or spiritual paths that call to them – if they choose any at all. I have always felt that it is important for them to be aware of what is there, and what we as a family have believed in for generations. No matter what they decide on when they are older and wiser, a grounding exists that they can return to if they feel it is right for them.

This is because while I have an expansive definition of spirituality, I have found that the grounding that I had because of my own upbringing has given me a great deal. For instance, I take very seriously a ritual that I perform at home, which is the worship of Srinathji. I believe in the value system of family, which is why I accepted Him graciously into my home, and I follow closely all the practical customs. This is a part of my legacy from my parents, and I hope that it will be carried on through future generations. My children have observed these rituals of mine just as I observed my own mother’s devotion all those years ago.

I experience spirituality in other ways too, but this is the practical ritual that happens in my home daily. It is “seva”, or service, and I do it sincerely. The link between food and faith is also something that I contemplate. For instance: fasting and feasting always go hand in hand in communities around the world. There are so many beautiful customs out there in which abstinence and prayer are followed by celebrations – and all the deliciousness that come with these. All festivals have religious origins, even if they are more secular and may have other significance nowadays.

Still, whether you are fasting, feasting or simply having fun, this sabudana vada is a beautiful addition to your repertoire.

Sabudana Vada

(Yield: 15-20 pieces)

1 cup sabudana (sago pearls)
2 medium size potatoes
1 tablespoon green chili-ginger paste
Salt to taste
2 teaspoons sugar
Juice of 1 lime
3 tablespoons peanuts (coarsely ground)
1 tablespoon coriander leaves (finely chopped)
Oil for frying

Soak the sabudana for 4-5 hours. Drain for at least 1 hour. Set aside.

Boil and then mash the potatoes while they are warm. To this, add the drained sabudana.

Then, add the salt, sugar, lemon juice, green chili-ginger paste, coriander leaves and peanuts. Using your hands, blend everything until the mixture comes together.

Now, make discs from this mixture of 3-inch diameter and 1-inch thickness.

Heat the oil in a kadai and drop each vada gently into the hot oil. Allow to cook until golden and turn over. Make sure both sides are well cooked and brown. Drain on a tissue paper.

Serve with a chutney or sauce of your choice. I really wish I knew the recipes of all the incredible Maharastrian chutneys that sabudana vadas are served with in Mumbai. I would love to learn, and am excited about the trial-and-error process. If you happen to know some, drop me an email at indulgeatrestore@gmail.com or a DM on Instagram, won’t you?

Sabudana also features in a khichdi-like stir fry that is another favourite of mine. I have yet to master it in the way my mother had, but once I do, you can be sure that I will share that recipe with you too.

There is a universal love for paneer makhani or for paneer butter masala among those who frequent Indian restaurants anywhere. These are the two most popular dishes when it comes to paneer, and it would be rare to find an Indian eatery that doesn’t offer them. When my kids were growing up, we ate paneer makhani all over the world because that is what they ordered straightaway, without having to check a menu. You may also remember my recipe for paneer makhani, one which our relatives also learnt so as to make my son happy when he visits them. However, as much as I enjoy these dishes too, I believe that the fact that they are the standard go-tos gets in the way of exploring the wide and diverse range of paneer preparations that actually exist. My own personal favourite is kadhai paneer, or a paneer stir-fry that is so named because it is made in a kadhai (a deep, flat-bottomed pan), and that’s the recipe I am sharing today.

I recently shared a recipe for chilli tofu, and this one is distinct from that one because of the spices that I use. What makes my version different from a restaurant version is that it also incorporates some vegetables. In fact, I think this is true when it comes to most household paneer preparations anyhow, if not in the dish itself then in accompaniments. Paneer dishes I have eaten at people’s homes always tend to be healthier and to utilize more greens and vegetables rather than just paneer. When it comes to home cuisines one doesn’t usually see oil floating at the top of the gravy or other such excessive uses, which are delicious during an outing but better avoided regularly. There is more variety too, as there is so much more to paneer than what has been popularized by restaurants.

I’m a big advocate of home-cooked meals, always: you know what goes into every dish, and will take care to make sure it’s good for you and for your family. I believe there’s a world of difference between restaurant food and household preparations in terms of healthiness. All that said, one nutritious paneer dish that is also available at eateries is the palak paneer, which features spinach. Of course, if you make it at home, which you can with my recipe [hyperlink], it’s even better!

Paneer really does pair well with most vegetables, taste-wise and not just as a way to make meals healthier. Here, I have used chopped bell peppers. I usually like to cut them tiny as they look beautiful, but this time I decided to do bigger cuts. This is because bigger vegetable cuts require us to chew better, which makes our digestion easier. However you choose to cut them, I would suggest adding an array of any vegetables you enjoy, keeping in mind that a colourful presentation is pleasing to the eye, to the tastebuds and to your overall well-being too. As many have said before, “eat the rainbow”.

This will certainly not be the end of the paneer recipes that I will share on this blog, especially as I’d like to highlight more diverse preparations. I am sure there is more to come, as and when a recipe strikes, a mood hits or a desire to eat a particular food occurs. Sometimes the inspiration is creative: a visual will come to mind and I will write it down quickly so that I don’t forget, and then recreate it in a photoshoot later. For me, these recipes are so that nothing is lost amongst the memories in my head, and so that my children can retrieve them whenever they wish to – and so can you.

Kadhai Paneer

(Serves 2)

2 cups bell peppers (different colours)
1 cup diced paneer
1 tablespoon oil
1 teaspoon cumin seeds
½ cup onions (finely chopped)
2 cloves garlic
1 green chilli
1 large tomato finely chopped

1-inch ginger (grated)
Salt to taste
½ teaspoon turmeric
1 teaspoon Kashmiri red chili powder
1 teaspoon garam masala
1 teaspoon coriander powder
1 teaspoon kasoori methi (crushed)
1 tablespoon milk

Garnish
Kasoori methi
Cream (optional)
Beaten yoghurt
Coriander leaves

Heat a kadhai and add the oil. To this, add cumin seeds, grated garlic and onions. Roast until golden. Now add the green chilli, ginger and tomato. Sauté until tomatoes are tender. Add the salt, turmeric powder and red chili powder.

Add the bell peppers. Sauté, then cover until they are tender but not releasing water. Once they cook a little, add paneer followed by garam masala and coriander powder. Finally, add kasoori methi and milk.Garnish with beaten yoghurt, kasoori methi and coriander leaves.

I find that this kadhai paneer is best with plain roti and works well as a tiffin box item as well as served hot and fresh. I hope you’ll enjoy it as much as I do, and I also encourage you to explore the other paneer recipes I’ve shared here over the years.