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Recipe: Perfectly Pleasing – Peas Paratha

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Peas are in abundance right now – they are in season, cheap to purchase, good for health, and I for one am glad they are flooding the local market. It feels like I am making something with them every day. Recipes I’ve shared with you in the past, like this harra bhara kebab, pea-pomegranate festive kachori and chura matar are being relished at my dining table. I’ve even begun using peas as substitutes for staples. For instance, I usually send my family members off to their offices with some aloo paratha in their tiffin carriers, but the potatoes have been swapped out for – you guessed it – peas. I would like for you to experience the lovely pea-stuffed parathas that they are enjoying at the moment too, so that’s exactly the recipe that I’ve decided to share this week.

Since I am now preparing as well as eating these pea parathas daily, I’ve observed that they are healthier and lighter than aloo parathas, which makes them more suitable for the mid-day meal when one’s work has to be resumed after. The best accompaniment for them is yoghurt and a cup of simple salad – add these two elements and you’re all set with a nice lunch. Traditionally, parathas are meant to be generous in size, but I prefer to make them small. They look pretty and dainty, fit more easily into your Tupperware or tiffin carrier, and the overall presentation just looks and feels nicer. That’s quite important for any meal, not just a special one. When a loved one opens their lunchbox at the office, the dishes within would have been prepared hours earlier and may no longer be warm or as fresh, so making them look attractive makes a difference.

I’ve been using peas grown in my region, but I must admit a preference for those harvested in Jaipur or Delhi at this time of year. The weather there is more conducive to this vegetable, and the yield is smaller in size and so sweet that it can be eaten raw (and even used in desserts, like in peas halwa). I have friends who grow peas on farms there, and visits from or to them during this season would always include some fresh produce. Sadly, no one is able to travel much at the moment, but the local variants are still much enjoyed in my home.

As I was preparing the peas for my photo shoot, I smiled as I recalled helping out in the kitchen when I was growing up. When we were kids, my siblings and I would have a competition about who would peel and shell the most peas. These were a chore that our mother often assigned to us, and this is how we would make it more interesting. The winner had no reward and the loser had no punishment, but this game was just a way for us to pep up a boring activity. Once again, as I did while sharing the previous recipe, I reminisce about how kids of my generation always found ways to keep ourselves entertained. We were innovative and creative in the absence of technology. What sorts of games did you play to make chores go by faster?

Peas Paratha

(Yield: 4-6)

 

Peas stuffing

1 full cup crushed green peas

1 teaspoon aamchur powder

1 teaspoon roasted cumin powder

1 teaspoon ginger/green chilli paste

Salt to taste

1 teaspoon oil (to roast the peas)

 

Paratha dough

1½ cups whole-wheat flour

Salt to taste

1 teaspoon oil

+ Oil for shallow frying

 

Divide the dough and the stuffing separately into equally-sized small balls (lime/lemon-sized).

Roll one dough ball out, and place a spoonful of the peas stuffing in the centre. Gather the dough around the peas and make a smooth round ball, using gentle pressure.

Dust some flour onto the ball and roll out again delicately, making sure the peas do not come out of the dough.

The method of stuffing the paratha with peas is similar to the method for making puran poli, which you can refer to in this post here.

Heat the tava over a medium flame. Once it is hot, place the rolled paratha on it and cook. Flip and spread a ½ teaspoon of oil evenly around the edges and shallow fry both sides until light golden brown spots appear. Repeat with the remaining parathas. Serve.

As I said earlier, some yoghurt and a bit of salad are great accompaniments, but even eaten on its own this peas paratha is flavourful. It is a perfect light meal, and it is lunchbox-friendly, cost-friendly and health-friendly too!

 

 

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Recipe: Simply Satisfying – Ven Pongal

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Here in Tamil Nadu, the harvest festival of Pongal has begun, and all over the state families are celebrating the occasion. Delicious, piping hot chakkara pongal is customarily consumed, but alongside it ven pongal (white pongal, made with freshly harvested rice) is also made. Oh, and let’s not forget certain creative yet authentic pongal renditions that are out there, such as this red rice and jaggery pongal. As you can see, there are many kinds of pongal, and this year, I thought I’d share with you a lovely savoury one.

Ven pongal is a traditional breakfast, one of my own favourites. It is a part of regular temple offerings too. This ven pongal is similar to a khichdi, which is a basic mixture of dal and rice. Unlike khichdi, it’s to be eaten with chutney or sambar. While khichdi is normally eaten for lunch or dinner but seldom for breakfast, with pongal it’s the reverse. As I mentioned, it’s a breakfast dish, and is rarely seen at other times of the day or night – except when it’s eaten for tiffin, which is what we call a late afternoon meal in this region.

Whenever I have breakfast while out and about in Chennai or elsewhere in Tamil Nadu, I always reach for the ven pongal. To me, it takes pride of place on the restaurant menu alongside its more famous counterparts, idli and dosa. The latter two are the “safe choices” that most people usually stick to, but I love ven pongal for breakfast and find it just as reliably made across the state. It’s very refreshing, filling, satisfying and healthy – and sees me through the day up until a hearty lunch.

The rice that I use in the pongal made on Pongal comes from our farm, and I observe a local tradition on this day. As is custom, this is when I store rice for the household for the whole year. The older it gets, the better it tastes. It is preserved well through a natural method: the raw rice is dampened with castor oil, and neem leaves are layered on it as I fill the storage barrels. This ensures that bugs stay away, given the humidity and the climate of this region. This raw rice is eaten throughout the year. When it is rinsed before use, the castor oil goes way, and any residue left is healthy for the body in any case. You can see a part of the process in the photograph below.

My love for this dish started in childhood. We had many Tamilian friends in our neighbourhood, so my familiarity with South Indian flavours and cooking began early. The house beside ours had girls of my age, and so we used to hang out together all the time. In those days, there were no TVs, computers or other electronic devices to keep us distracted indoors, so our hobbies were to run around, climb trees (eating fruits from them and being bitten by hairy caterpillars, as I’ve recounted on this blog before), play fun games that kids no longer seem to do and generally make a racket.

With these particular neighbours, we often spent the late afternoon together. I would go to their house at around 3.30pm, right in time for tiffin. We would sit on their front porch, enjoying leisure time together. My friends’ grandmother would oil, comb and braid their long hair and decorate it with jasmine. As she did, she would tell stories. I would watch their grooming ritual, listen to their Paati’s tales and enjoy the snack of the day. Very often, it was vada (savoury fried dough) or ven pongal, like the recipe I’m sharing with you today.

While I was growing up, my mother would sometimes make this too. This was because I would bring recipes back and forth between the different homes in our neighbourhood. Pre-blog and even pre-Internet, I already loved the exchange of kitchen techniques and secrets! South Indian families we grew up with also ate quite a bit of Gujarati food as a result. Of course, festivals meant gathering together and sharing meals too. It’s funny how connected we all were in that time before cellphones. I had such a lovely, inter-cultural upbringing – it contained food, heritage, granny tales and so much more from my family and well beyond. I feel like my children missed out on those simpler times, since technology began to dominate when they were little. I wonder how the generation of today fares, with even more at their disposal, and perhaps with even more disconnection in the world. What are your thoughts on all this?

Ven Pongal

(Yield: serves 3-4)

 

½ cup split mung dal

½ cup raw rice

3½ cups water to cook

2 tablespoons ghee

1 tablespoon cumin seeds

1 teaspoon whole black pepper

3 tablespoon split cashews

2 teaspoons finely minced ginger

Salt to taste

A handful of curry leaves

 

Mix the dal and rice together and rinse well. Heat a pan and add the mixed rice and dal to it. Sauté until they release an aroma. Do not allow the grains to turn colour.

Now, add the water, salt and 1 tablespoon of ghee. Pressure cook until tender. This will take approximately 20-25 minutes.

In another pan, add the remaining ghee. Once it has heated, add the cumin seeds and pepper. Next, add the curry leaves and ginger. Finally, add the cashews. Once this tempering has turned golden, add it to the steaming hot rice mixture.

Mix well and serve warm. It can be eaten on its own, or with sambar or chutney.

Whether you’re having this as a festive dish, or just snacking on it at tiffin or breakfast, I hope that you find it as delicious as I do. If you happen to enjoy it while sitting on your porch or balcony with dear friends, as I used to as a child, I’d especially love it if you could paint me a picture of those special moments in the comments! Food is such an intrinsic part of bonding, is it not?

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Recipe: Even Better At Breakfast – Bajra Rotlo Cereal

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bajra Rotlo Cereal

(Yield: 4 servings)

1 cup bajra flour

½ cup water

A pinch of salt

½ cup flour for rolling

 

Optional (non-cereal version)

1 tablespoon finely chopped onion

1 tablespoon finely coriander leaves

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Recipe: Post-Diwali Downtime – Millet Upma

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After the abundance of sweets, treats and fried foods of Diwali and Navaratri, hopefully accompanied by equally large helpings of blessings and joy, it’s back to trying to eat clean and healthy. This month is all about giving the body’s systems time to settle down before the culinary excitements of Christmas and the New Year beckon again. In this part of the world, this is also a time of rains, which call for immunity-boosting and warming foods as well. With all of this in mind, and taking a cue only from what I’ve been preparing for my family and myself, I’m delighted to share the recipe for a type of comfort food that is ideal for this time of year: millet upma.

Upma is a kind of porridge that is consumed across South India, in several variations. Its base may be semolina, vermicelli, corn, whole wheat or rice. Here, I have chosen to use a millet as the base, specifically the little millet. Millets and soups are perfect for the current weather. While soups are not really a part of the local cuisine, millets have a very long tradition of usage here. I’m quite an advocate for cutting down on white rice consumption in favour of nutritious millets, and you can explore many more millet-based recipes in my blog archives if you’re interested in doing the same.

As well as being a great place to start if you’re new to millets, this dish is also just the perfect way to start your day. Now, the truth is that millets taste healthy, which you know means that the family will fuss over it and make faces – at first. But as I’ve observed from my own grown kids, a millet upma is most welcome at breakfast after a night of partying or feasting. It’s just the kind of thing that calms body and mind, and boosts energy levels at the same time. So I choose a millet upma at the right moment during other times of the year, but it’s whipped up quite frequently in my kitchen in the post-festive period. We also have it as a light dinner, with more vegetables added to the mix. It’s especially great if you’re like me and have dinner early, as the millet gives you energy for the remaining hours of the evening, while still being easy to digest at night.

When cooking millets, the amount of water you add will depend on the size of the grain. Heavier millets – bigger in size and darker in colour – are traditionally used in monsoons and winters as they take more time to digest, hence warm the body for a longer time. However, I’ve chosen a sort of in-between. The little millet, known in Tamil as samai, is a larger grain but has a lighter colour. Use the millet of your preference, and do remember that depending on the type, you may need to pressure cook it or soak it overnight. You will also need to figure out the water level so that the result is a dish that is tender and crumbly. The consistency of the cooked millet should not be sticky.

Millet Upma

(Yield: 2-4 persons)

¾ cup little millet

¼ cup finely chopped onion

¼ cup chopped beans and carrots

2 tablespoons oil

¼ teaspoon mustard seeds

¼ teaspoon cumin seeds

A few curry leaves

1 green chilli

1¼ cups water

A squeeze of lemon juice

Salt to taste

Rinse the millet and set aside. Heat a kadai and add the oil. Once the oil heats up, add the mustard and cumin seeds. Allow them to splutter and then add the remaining vegetables, green chilli and curry leaves.

Cook until the vegetables become tender and then add the water. Once the water has boiled, add the millet. Then add the salt and stir well. Keep the flame low, cover the kadai with a lid, and allow all the water to be cooked. The millet grain should be tender and not sticky.

Add some lemon juice and stir gently. Garnish with coriander leaves and serve hot, and enjoy the taste of a healthy meal that your body will thank you for!

As I said earlier, there is a long history of millet consumption both in India as well as in my household, as shared here on my blog. I hope this millet upma recipe intrigues you into exploring this food category further. I’ve got a whole range, from the traditional – bajra ghensh, seven-grain khichdo, ragi dosa with peanut chutney, chakkara pongal, ragi kanji and little millet rice with green beans poriyal – to the innovative or internationally-inspired – vegan millet thayirsadam, vegan chili and Indian veg millet salad. I’d love to know about your own journey with millets, too!

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Recipe: Been-Around-The-World Khari Poori – Masala Khari Poori

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Masala khari poori is a staple in Gujarati households, not just during the festive season but often as a daily pleasure. A morning snack comprised of chai and ghantia (tea and a fried savoury) is how many families traditionally begin their days. This combination is then repeated at tea-time as well. The pairing has a nostalgic quality even for the younger generation of today. I know this because whenever my daughter, who works in Mumbai, comes back for a visit, one of the first things she asks for is sweet chai with an accompaniment of spicy, fried khari poori. Gujaratis do love our savoury fried snacks, and we love them every day, even though my family tends to veer towards more health-conscious items. But with the festive season in full swing and everyone enjoying their indulgences more than usual, there’s no better time than now to share the recipe for this very satisfying masala khari poori.

My mother would fry up big batches of this treat during Diwali in particular, so they are also a part of celebratory memories of mine. She would make small discs, rolled out individually. What I’ve done instead is to roll out a big chunk of dough and then use a cookie cutter to make the small individual discs. When my kids were little, I would use fancy shapes, like flowers and so on, to make the dish all the more interesting to them. They are tiny bites. Pop one into your mouth and eight or ten are gone before you realise it.

The amazing thing about khari poori is that it travels very well, and can easily last for up to four weeks (hypothetically speaking, of course – there’s no chance a jar of such deliciousness will go unfinished that long in most households). This means that whenever we take long car journeys, I fill up a nice flask of hot chai and pack some khari poori for the road. I send my kids off with a parcel of it whenever they head back after a visit. My daughter tells me that she loves to munch on it when she gets a breather from her busy days in the courtroom, so it’s a nice snack to carry into a workplace too. Most of all, it works as the perfect charm when you’re away and are a week or ten days into being somewhere else, and you suddenly crave the taste of home. I remember being in Paris once and munching some homemade khari poori, safely conveyed in my luggage all the way from India, while admiring the beauty of the Eiffel Tower. This delicious little snack has travelled all over the world, literally!

Khari poori is also perfect for when you come home, as I mentioned earlier, but even if you haven’t been travelling or living away, it rounds out a tiring day. When you return late from work or are still hungry after a lousy dinner outside, reaching out for some khari poori and a glass of milk just settles something in the belly and the mind and lets one fall asleep. It’s an all-rounder kind of snack that way: ideal for festive feasts, holiday treats and as a comfort food.

Masala Khari Poori

(Yield: 30+ pieces)

1 cup whole wheat flour

¼ teaspoon turmeric powder

1 teaspoon ginger green chilli paste

½ teaspoon cumin powder

½ teaspoon coriander powder

2 tablespoons oil + for frying

½ teaspoon ajwain seeds (carom seeds)

A pinch of sugar (optional)

⅓ cup water (depends upon the flour)

 

Make a tight dough with all the ingredients. A lot of kneading helps it become smooth, which will make for crispy pooris.

Heat the oil for frying in a kadai. Meanwhile, make small balls of the dough and set aside.

Now start rolling them out into small discs, or else use my cookie cutter method.

Once the oil is ready, start deep frying the individual pooris.

Drop a few at a time or as many as will fit into the oil. Now, lower the flame as a high heat will burn them and make them turn brown while also being undercooked.

Flip them at intervals and patiently allow them to cook until golden. At intervals you may increase the heat, depending on how they appear.

Remove onto paper and allow to cool. Fry all your discs and allow to cool before storing them in an airtight tin.

Crispy, festive, spicy – these masala khari pooris will add a boost of delight to your day, whether that’s a special day or simply an ordinary day on which to enjoy the simple good things in life. In my home, we tend to not purchase snacks since I make quite an array of them: this khari poori, obviously, but also butter biscuits, pistachio-rose nan khatai, sukha bhel, banana-methi fritters and much more. We enjoy one or the other on any given day, always with a piping hot kettle full of this delicious masala chai. Try them out and let me know: what’s your own favourite combo?

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Recipe: Discs of Delight – Puran Poli

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The festive season has begun here in India, and I hope that those of you who are celebrating are having a wonderful time. Feasting is such a big part of our festivals, and this month I’ll be sharing some delicious recipes to add to your repertoire of sweets and snacks to share with friends and family. At the top of this list is a dish of sentimental value: puran poli. This sweet, healthy flatbread always evokes my mother for me. Perhaps that is true of all sweet foods, if not all dishes, from my childhood. But she really was exceptional at preparing puran poli, and so it holds a special place in my heart.

Puran poli was the favourite of all five of us at home (my parents, my siblings and I). For my siblings and father, it was to them what her dhokla was to me – the one dish that they only wanted made by her, even if they would prepare or buy other items. I suppose in my case I lucked out because I learned how to make puran poli from her, rather than only have her make it for me. Now, whenever I roll out the dough to make this sweet treat, memories of my mother flood back. I recall her hands as she prepared it, the way she would measure out ingredients and little nuances about her movements. Whether she was teaching me, letting me work alongside her or just letting me watch, all those moments come together and fill me with nostalgia as I make this.

She prepared it for special occasions and birthdays, and it was always a part of our festive meals. On such days, the lunch table would be laden with rich, heavy food of all varieties. We would partake of the feast while surrounded by happy people, and a nice long afternoon siesta would follow. One of the reasons why this sweet, which always featured in these feasts, was such a star on the menu is that something about it made her indulge us more. Even though there would always be healthy greens in the spread, she would say with a smile when she saw us reach for her famous puran poli, “It’s okay if you don’t eat your vegetables today”. So we would look forward to this dish all the more.

To me, these are not just memories to fondly look back on, but they show the way forward too. I feel strongly that beautiful moments at home must be created. They don’t just happen. When we put time and thought into creating experiences that celebrate the love within a family, while honouring tradition and heritage, we ensure that the next generation has something precious to look back on too. Festive occasions offer the perfect opportunity for this, which is why I have such a firm rule that my children come home for Diwali and Raksha Bandhan no matter where they are in the world. Every year, as a family, we renew our bonds and form new memories together. I know that some day, when they are older and reminiscing, they will feel joy – and remember us with love, just as I do my dear mother.

I often ask myself these questions: what will my children recall; what will their memories of me be? The desire to bring joy to them always, not just now but well into the future, is what motivates me to make our time together as meaningful as possible. Food as a daily expression of love enables this, and festivities make this expression all the more vivid and enjoyable. Family, food and feelings are interconnected. When we have healthy relationships, we eat better (as we share mealtimes, and are stressed less overall). When we eat nourishingly, we have healthier relationships (as our bodies and minds are performing optimally, and fatigue or illness don’t impede our ability to spend time together). Do you notice that you binge eat when you feel downcast? Do you notice that you enjoy food more when you’re with a close friend? These are clues about the nature of this interconnection.

This puran poli, thanks to the wonderful memories it brings back, strengthens my connection to my late mother. It is also meaningful to my children for the same reason. Decades ago, when I was away from home and expecting my second child, my eldest missed his grandmother – my mother – so deeply that I had to ask my friend Chandrika Behn to make puran poli just for him. She prepared it just like my mother would, and I didn’t mind my kid gorging on the treat often as it’s stuffed with protein-rich dal. Even now, when one of us visits her, this elderly aunty rolls out a batch of puran polis just for us. Such is the power of a beautifully-rendered dish. It becomes a way to treasure a relationship – between grandmother and grandchild, between friends, between parent and child, between siblings, between partners, and so on…

Puran Poli

(Yield: 10)

 

Stuffing ingredients

½ cup toor dal

1 cup water

½ cup jaggery

1 tablespoon almond powder

½ teaspoon cardamom

Ghee for topping

 

Dough ingredients

¾ cup whole wheat flour

A pinch of salt

½ cup water (based on your requirement)

1 teaspoon oil

 

Make a dough with the ingredients. Ensure it is soft and smooth. Make small balls, cover and set aside.

In a pressure cooker, cook the dal in water until it is soft and tender.

Open the cooker and add the jaggery. Keep stirring the mixture of dal and jaggery constantly on a low flame. Make sure the dal does not stick to the bottom of the pan/cooker.

Once the mixture has thickened, which will take approximately 12-15 minutes, turn off the flame and add the cardamom powder and almond powder.

You will know the stuffing is ready when you make a spatula stand upright inside the thickened dal and it doesn’t fall.

Allow to cool. Divide this into portions of 10 balls. Your stuffing is now ready to roll.

Assemble each puran poli. Roll out one small dough ball into a small disc. Place the ball of stuffing in the centre, gather the rolled out roti together and flatten. Dip the stuffed disc into dry flour for easy rolling out once again.

Now, place the rolled-out stuffed disc onto a hot griddle and allow to cook. Flip and cook on the other side. Remove onto a plate and pour ghee over the puran poli. Repeat for the remaining balls of dough and stuffing, until you’ve prepared them all. Enjoy them hot and fresh.

Each puran poli will be small – palm-sized. As far as sweets go, this is quite healthy, not only because of the portion size but also because the jaggery and almonds used in it are nutritious. Traditionally, it is made with chopped almonds, but my mother always used powdered almonds. This changes the texture of the stuffing, making it softer, and I’ve retained this twist too.

These are lovely little treats that invariably feel festive to me, and increase the joy of this season. I hope they will do the same for you. Wishing you and yours a wonderful time of celebration!

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Recipe: Tastiness From My Terrace – South Indian Ridge Gourd Stir-Fry

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As a Gujarati who was born and brought up in Tamil Nadu, I am lucky to have the advantage of knowing and being a part of both cultures. Naturally, this extends to the cuisines as well. Although what is served for lunch nearly every day at home is a standard Gujarati thaali, which consists of rotis, a sabzi or vegetable and some dal, you can see the influence of my multicultural upbringing in the style of of some of the dishes. For instance, the sabzi of the day may be something cooked in a South Indian preparation. This ridge gourd stir-fry, or peerkanga pirratal as we know it in Tamil, is one such recipe in my eclectic repertoire.

I grow ridge gourd on my rooftop, and terrace gardening has also shown me firsthand the beautiful logic of Nature, which has designed things so that the produce that is most nourishing for those who live in the local climate is what grows best in that land too. Take the ridge gourd: high in water content, rich with fibre and minerals, and therefore just perfect for the weather of Chennai wherein our energy is easily depleted by the heat. If you live here, loading up your lunch bowl with this ingredient gives you exactly the boost you need for the rest of the day.

Of course, rounding out the standard meal would be some form of carbs, also known as the bane of my life. So here’s the trick: the Buddha bowl trompe l’oeil. Serving style and visual presentation always impact our perception of what we’re consuming. By putting just two tablespoons of white rice into a bowl and filling the rest with this ridge gourd stir-fry, I don’t have that miserable feeling of holding myself back by skimping on the main part of the meal. Instead, the vegetables themselves become the main part of the meal. This dish is very much in the category of comfort food, and I sometimes literally eat bowlfuls of it!

This South Indian ridge gourd stir-fry is very simple, very unassuming and very wholesome. Just salt and turmeric are quite enough to enhance the natural flavour of the chief ingredient. In addition to the ridge gourd on my rooftop, there are coconut trees in my backyard that yield fruit all year around. I use my own homemade coconut oil and add freshly grated coconut to this dish too, so almost everything in this dish is homegrown and pure. Even a little kitchen garden can make such a difference to our cooking. There really is something special about cultivating and consuming our own ingredients.

Doing so is also a link to a traditional way of living and a traditional way of eating, and these are subjects I think about a lot, given how we need both of these for the sustainability of our planet. M husband and I love time-honoured dishes, but our adult children feel they require much more novelty and diversity in their diets. Being in sync with Nature and seasonal rhythms is important for our vitality too, and I wonder if this is something one becomes more aware of as we age and our palates change. Growing bodies and younger bodies with dynamic lifestyles do need more carbs and sugars, certainly. As discussed in my previous post, it’s quite interesting how kids and senior citizens have very similar tastes. I have been listening more and more to what my body, somewhere between those two extremes of life, needs. In my case, vegetables are what it often craves. If you’re the same, you’ll find much for your repertoire in this blog’s archives. While re:store is all about baked indulgences, the recipes here are more often than not about bringing pleasure and nutrition into everyday meals.

South Indian Ridge Gourd Stir-Fry

(Yield: Serves 2-3)

 

4 cups peeled and chopped ridge gourd

A few curry leaves

¼ cup grated coconut (optional)

2 tablespoons coconut oil

¼ teaspoon mustard seeds

¼ teaspoon cumin seeds

¼ teaspoon urad dal

Salt to taste

¼ teaspoon turmeric

½ cup water

1-2 green chillies

3 tablespoons soaked mung/yellow dal

 

In a pressure cooker, add the mung dal and the cut gourd. Add salt, turmeric and ½ cup of water. Allow to cook until tender (this should be about 2 whistles).

In another kadai, add the coconut oil. Once it has heated, add the mustard seeds, cumin seeds and ural dal. When they start to splutter, add the curry leaves.

Immediately after, add the vegetables from the pressure cooker and stir well. Once the concoction starts boiling, turn off the flame and add the grated coconut. You can skip this ingredient if you aren’t a fan, or if it isn’t available. Mix well. Garnish with coriander leaves and serve hot. This is usually an accompaniment to rice or rotis.

This South Indian-style ridge gourd stir-fry is a recipe I picked up along the way, and prefer to the Gujarati version that my mother used to make, which required chili and coriander powders. That said, sometimes it feels a bit painful when I’m confronted with very deeply-rooted authentic Gujarati dishes and find myself at a loss about how to prepare them. Fortunately, my sister who has had much more exposure to that cuisine is within reach, as well as friends and fellow bloggers, and I usually find what I’m looking for and learn through trial and error.

In fact, this gives me an opportunity to ask you: is it true that ridge gourd peel can be used in a chutney? Have you prepared this, and if so, would you care to share the recipe?

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Recipe: Still Peckish For Pineapple – Pineapple Curry

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My pineapple craving only increased after my recent pineapple rice recipe, so I decided to go ahead and make another dish using that fabulous fruit. This pineapple curry has been a part of my repertoire for quite a while now. It is my own take on a pineapple curry, developed after many enquiries amongst friends over a long time. While asking around, I found that pineapple is used in a similar preparation, either in a curry or a rasam, by many communities in India. I always find it so heart-warming to discover that a cherished ingredient is enjoyed by so many. It’s amazing how versatile we ourselves are as cooks and consumers, imagining interesting ways to eat and continuously learning, even though it is the ingredients themselves that we usually consider versatile.

My earliest experiences with pineapple curry were at my dear friend Girija’s house when we were children. You may remember Girija from her exceptional stew recipe, and her pineapple curry one was also the base on which I built my own version, adding things that stood out to me from other friends’ versions. To this day, we have a tradition of exchanging recipes. She teaches me Malayali ones, while I teach her Gujarati ones (there’s a wide selection of the latter on this blog too). I then adapt the recipes to suit our palates at home. I’m sure most of us do the same whenever we pick up a new one, which is why I’m always curious to hear from you about how you’ve prepared the ones I share here.

This pineapple curry, with its natural hint of sweetness, is highly suitable for the notorious Gujarati sweet tooth. My husband absolutely loves it, and rest assured that there are never any leftovers on days when I make it at home. He polishes off the pan to the extent that I often have to remind him to leave some for me. That’s exactly what happened after my photo shoot for this post!

What makes this curry even sweeter is my addition of coconut milk or grated coconut. Funnily, this ingredient that appears so often in Kerala cuisine doesn’t play a part in Girija’s recipe, but it does in mine. I find that as a tropical fruit, pineapple is well-complemented by coconut, which is another form of tropical produce. At the moment, the coconut trees in my backyard have yielded a bounty. I have a profusion of fresh coconut milk at home as a result, and alongside the sweet seasonal pineapple, this recipe came together beautifully. That reminds me – have you checked out the coconut series from a few months ago, and tried out my coconut podi and coconut pudding recipes too?

On the note of continuing to learn about all things food-related – in my previous post, I had mentioned that my son has been experimentally growing miniature pineapples. I was a bit surprised when I started seeing these at the florist too. Baby pineapples (a hybrid, I suspect), so adorably nestled amidst blooms and leaves of all kinds. I found them so eye-catching, and I wondered how this decorative usage came into being. Would you happen to know?

Pineapple Curry

(Serves 2-4)

½ cup grated fresh coconut

3 dry red chillies

2 tablespoons urad dal

3 tablespoons tamarind paste

1½ cups pineapple chunks

2 tablespoons sesame oil

¼ teaspoon mustard seeds

A few curry leaves

1 cup hot water

1 cup coconut milk

Salt to taste

1 tablespoon jaggery

In a pan, dry roast each of these ingredients separately, until each is toasted: the coconut, the urad dal and the dry red chillies. While they are still hot, blend them together, along with the tamarind paste. Set aside.

In another kadai, add oil. Once it’s hot, add the mustard seeds. Allow to splutter and then add the curry leaves.

Add the pineapple chunks. Cover and allow to cook until tender.

Next, add the masala prepared earlier and the hot water. Adjust the quantity of water based on the consistency of gravy you prefer, but ensure that it is already warm or hot. Add salt and jaggery (which you can replace with brown sugar) and allow to cook until thick.Finally, add the coconut milk. You can avoid this ingredient if you aren’t a fan of it. Stir and set aside until ready to serve.

As I’ve said in almost every post on Indian food, Indians love flavour combinations in their meals, and sometimes even within a single dish. This dish also offers a wide range, from sweet to spicy. As you can see from the method above, this medley of flavours is quite simple to whip up.

The best partner for this pineapple curry would be plain rice, hot and right out of the pot, with a dollop of ghee. This really does make for the perfect meal. You can also have it with rotis.

I’ve been relishing pineapple so much at the moment that I’ve decided to make this a three-part series. So there’s one more dish coming up next weekend so that you can get even more out of this delicious fruit. In the meanwhile, if you are a fan of fruit in curry, you may also enjoy this lovely guava preparation. As I said earlier, as I say often: I’d love to know how you make it!

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Recipe: The Best Bhel Outside Of Bombay – Sukha Bhel

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sukha Bhel

(Serves 2-3)

 

½ cup chopped cucumber

½ cup chopped boiled potatoes

¼ cup finely chopped onions

¼ cup chopped mango

A squeeze of lemon

1½ cups bhel mix or roasted puffed rice

Black salt to taste

½ teaspoon roasted cumin powder

1 tablespoon tamarind/date chutney

½ teaspoon garlic chutney (optional)

Pomegranate arils for garnishing

Coriander leaves for garnishing

Small crispy puris

 

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

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

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

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

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Recipe: Of Canteens and Bakeries – Butter Biscuits

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

Butter Biscuits

(Yield: Approximately 15 small biscuits)

 

100 grams unsalted butter

60 grams finely powdered sugar

120 grams maida

¼ teaspoon salt

½ teaspoon vanilla extract

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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