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Summers in India are usually a time when many people prefer to eat lighter meals, but a heatwave like we are experiencing now makes this all the more important. You may find yourself automatically desiring light meals when the climate is hot, and there’s a science to this. Heavy food affects the metabolism, taking longer to digest, and this process increases the heat in the body. The lighter the meal, the lower the amount of internal heat generated during the digestion process. For some, a light meal may be some cooling yogurt and rice, or may even constitute simply of a tall and refreshing glass of buttermilk. As a lover of salads, I find that they are ideal for this season, and can pack many nutrients into a simple (and yes, light) dish. This sprouted salad, using homegrown sprouts and an assortment of fresh veggies, is one I’ve been making very often, and I’m glad to share it with you too.

At the start of this year, I shared the method for growing sprouts at home. You can use any legume of your choice, including fenugreek, beans and more. I love my green mung sprouts, as you may recall from that post, along with brown chana sprouts. Brown chana, also known as black chickpea, is believed to be high in iron due to its colour. As a darker legume, it’s usually eaten in the winters (as it’s heavier on the digestion than the lighter looking ones). Nature has a wonderful logic to it, which we can attune our appetites to, so as to make the most of seasonal produce. For me, I have found that the health quotient of brown chana makes it appropriate even for summer consumption, and it has made its way into this dish. It is rich not only in iron but also in protein, vitamins, calcium, phytochemicals and magnesium, and has benefits for the heart and brain functions and regularising cholesterol and blood sugar.

I’ve had my share of carb binges, partying, exotic meals in exotic destinations and culinary indulgences of all sorts. As I’ve said before, moderation is key. For me, eating right is a conscious choice, especially as I get older, and I’ve found that one of the key elements to this is ensuring that I get adequate protein in every meal. From experience, I can tell you that there is no scarcity of choice for vegetarians. This sprouted salad is an excellent example. Adding sautéed pieces of tofu or paneer will also increase the protein component of the dish.

Now, there may be something familiar about this recipe to long-term friends of re:store. That’s because re:store was one of the first entrepreneurships in Chennai to open up salad subscriptions. Back when I started the company in 2015, salads were a major component of the menu, though I’ve since honed my focus on baked goods. This one was among the bestselling items, and if you’ve eaten it before and had a craving for it anytime since, here you go – this is the recipe I used then and still do, shared with love.

That also reminds me: that was around the time when complimentary food stopped being served on many flights, so I began to pack a small container of this sprouted salad as my mid-air snack on many occasions. I still do this, in fact. This healthy salad is my preferred travel companion for short flights. It ensures that I’m feeling nourished and energised by a protein boost when I land and head into my appointments at my destination. It has the same effect on tired minds and bodies in need of rejuvenation in the summer heat.

Sprouted Salad

(Serves 2)

 

Fresh Ingredients

2-3 tablespoons spring onions

¼ cup capsicum

¼ cup raw mango (grated)

a handful of cherry tomatoes

½ cup steamed sprouts

1 tablespoon jalapenos (finely chopped)

a handful of coriander leaves (finely chopped)

¼ cup cucumber

 

Dressing ingredients

Salt to taste

1 pinch pepper

1 teaspoon honey or maple syrup

Juice of ½ a lemon

1 teaspoon pomegranate balsamic (optional)

 

Pumpkin seeds

Chopped almonds

 

In a bowl, add all the fresh ingredients. Keep refrigerated until ready to serve.

Just before serving, add all the ingredients for the dressing and mix well.

When ready to serve, assemble all the ingredients, including the seeds and nuts, the dressing and the fresh ingredients. Mix well and gently. That’s all there is to it. Enjoy this delicious, nutritious salad and let it bring its refreshing qualities to your heat-busting methods.

You may have noticed the use of raw mango in this dish. I know some of you may be wondering whether my long-standing tradition of sharing ripe mango recipes and desserts, since the fruit is in season, will continue this year. However, given the heatwave, I thought I’d do something different and focus on replenishing and energy-boosting recipes. Don’t forget to drink lots of water, and you can always keep hydration interesting with a hearty lassi. On the subject of mangoes and indulgences, the recipe archive is right here for you to explore!

Paneer makhani is a staple in North Indian cuisine, and is loved by people across the country, but not many know that it is a far cry from the original preparation that it is based on. From my understanding, the authentic Mughlai dish did not use tomatoes, which were not available or at least not widely cultivated in India till the last couple of centuries. Tomatoes are a major part of the recipe as it is widely made today. Another element is that the cooks who invented the dish did not use fat such as oil, butter or ghee. Instead, they splashed yoghurt, which would release natural fat. This is what the meats and the gravies of the Mughlai kitchen would be cooked in. Having a sense of the evolution of paneer makhani – a curry using paneer, or Indian cottage cheese – has made me quite happy to share the version that is made in my own kitchen.

While my version caters to my family’s likes and dislikes, it is really focused on one member in particular. Everyone who knows us knows how much my son Prasan loves his paneer makhani. If I talk about this love in detail, he will be furious with me for putting it out in public, so I’ll try not to divulge too much. Suffice to say: he has adored it since childhood. When he visits our relatives, like my aunt or my sister, they usually ring me up and ask me exactly how to make it in the way he prefers. They know that he will only be satisfied with their meal if there’s a serving of his favourite dish. If they’re unable to prepare it that day, they organise for it to be at the table anyway. So this recipe is for them also – next time, they can just find it right here on this blog, as can you.

When we get together as an extended family, a good paneer makhani is a mainstay at most meals. I’ve noticed this to be true at all sorts of gatherings and feasts across communities in India as well. It is also a dish that pleases people of all ages. Children seem to appreciate it as much as the elderly. Whether it was one of my kids when they were little or my mother-in-law as a senior citizen today, I’m never surprised to see anyone at all reach out for another helping.

Paneer Makhani

(Yield: Approximately 2 servings)

 

50 grams onion

180 grams tomato (roughly chopped)

2 cardamom pods

½ teaspoon cumin

2 cloves

1 piece cinnamon stick

1 bay leaf

1 teaspoon garlic-ginger paste

4-5 pieces broken cashewnut

1 tablespoon oil (to sauté)

 

1 teaspoon Kashmiri chilli powder

Salt to taste

½ teaspoon turmeric

¼ teaspoon dhaniya-jeera (coriander-cumin) powder

 

1 tablespoon ghee

½ teaspoon sugar

¼ teaspoon garam masala

100 grams paneer

½ teaspoon kasoori methi (dried fenugreek leaves)

Add the oil to a kadai. Allow to heat, then add the cumin seeds. Immediately after, add the onions, cloves, cinnamon, cardamom, cashew nuts, garlic-ginger paste and the bay leaf. Sauté for about 1 minute. Then, add the roughly chopped tomatoes.

Now, add the salt, turmeric, chilli powder and dhaniya-jeera powder. Stir, cover and allow to cook until the tomatoes are tender.

Allow to cool and blend well. Strain and set aside.

Heat a kadai, and add the ghee. Once it has melted, add the blended purée that had been set aside. If required, add a little water to make the gravy in the consistency you prefer. Other options are to add butter or 2 tablespoons of fresh cream. I have added neither. I sometimes do, but rarely, as Prasan and the rest of us prefer it with less of the same. If you choose to, remember to add the milk or cream finally, else it will split.

Now, add the sugar and allow the gravy to cook well. Finally, add the paneer pieces. I occasionally sneak in some green peas, but my kids don’t like them in this dish. But they do go well with paneer in general, so you may want to try them out. Garnish with a sprinkle of kasoori methi. The gravy can be used as a base for other dishes, such as chicken or vegetable curries, and I’d love to know how you decide to use it.

Serve with flatbread, such as naan or rotis, or rice. Now that I have the hang of sourdough naan, that’s what I tend to serve my Prasan-style paneer makhani with.

There you have it: one of the top dishes at my dining table, made with love every single time. On that note… I’ve mentioned my son quite a number of times in this post, which means I may just have to head to the kitchen and whip up a fresh bowl of paneer makhani. You see, it’s become a bit of a running joke that whenever he is annoyed or upset, a little bit of his beloved gravy will calm him down! Having said this, I’d better get to making it right away, I suspect!

Every time that I had whole wheat halwa while I was growing up, it was mostly made in a jiffy. This was because whenever unexpected guests landed up at home and my mother had to make something sweet to serve them, this was her go-to recipe. Most people of that generation who cooked were extremely versatile. They knew what would work quickly, based on the ingredients they had on hand. It was also a time when those of my generation literally grew up in each others’ homes. So unexpected guests were always aplenty, and the Indian courtesy of feeding them was never forgotten, no matter how much of a surprise they may have been!

The base of this recipe is wheat, jaggery and ghee – items which would invariably be in any Indian kitchen. The additions like saffron and cardamom may not always be available, but the essential ingredient list is one that was quite reliably in every home while I was growing up, and most likely still is today. These are inexpensive ingredients. Not many could afford refined sugar back then, so the accessible and healthier jaggery was used, along with affordable staples like wheat and ghee.

Wheat-ghee-jaggery is an age-old combo, as can be seen in the auspicious sukhudi, which uses the same base. Sweets that utilise this combo are offered to the gods in many Indian homes, and it’s easy to see how the accessibility of the ingredients make them a logical choice for many.

The simplicity of such offerings is part of their beauty. In fact, aside from them being offered in worship, they were also the key feature of birthdays. Back when I was a kid, a birthday cake was not always guaranteed. What we would offer to the gods on that day, and then consume for ourselves, was the big question. “Birthday? Big deal. Get up and go to school!” was a refrain many of us heard! Still, our mothers would usually prepare our favourite Indian sweets that day. My brother liked rava kesari, so that’s what he would receive. As for me, it was this whole wheat halwa that was usually my birthday treat.

I loved birthday parties, and had been to a few of my friends’. There was one year when I decided to throw myself a surprise party – meaning, it was a surprise for my mum! I went back home after school with my whole class, with absolutely no advance notice, and announced that they had all come to celebrate with me. I knew that if I had asked her earlier, she would just have said No. But with all my friends already there, she obliged so very sweetly. Looking back, it could not possibly have been easy to muster up a party immediately. But the feast contained this whole wheat halwa, some standards like toasted sandwiches – and even some McRennett’s cake which she somehow managed to organise last minute. You may recall that I’ve never quite been a fan of what I call that smelly vanilla cake, but it is cherished by my generation. It was a hit at my party too, of course. But that whole wheat halwa was what shone in my mind, and still does, all these years later.

Whole Wheat Halwa

(Yield: 5)

¾ cup whole wheat flour

¼ cup jowar flour

½ cup ghee

½ cup jaggery

A pinch of saffron

1 tablespoon milk

A pinch of cardamom powder

1½ cups hot water

½ cup jaggery

 

Soak the saffron in the milk and set aside.

Heat a kadai and add the ghee. Once it has melted, add the flours. You will notice that I use jowar, or sorghum. This is my addition to the recipe, and another way for me to bring healthy millets into my desserts.

Stir on a medium flame. Stir continuously, else the flour will stick to the bottom. This will take approximately 12-15 minutes.  Stir until the mixture turns a dark golden colour. You never want a dull-looking halwa! Even if you skip the saffron or cardamom, you absolutely cannot skip the continuous stirring when it comes to this dish. The secret to it rests entirely in doing that well.

Then, add the jaggery and keep stirring until the jaggery melts.

Lower the flame and add the hot water slowly, continuing to stir continuously. Be careful as the mixture will splutter. Stand away from the kadai at this point. Once the water mixes well with the flour, then bring it back back to a medium flame – while mixing non-stop.

The mixture will thicken and the ghee will separate. Add the cardamom powder and saffron. Mix well again. Serve.

When I think back about my mother stirring constantly over the stove while a gaggle of hungry schoolgirls waited, I am filled with love. That love continues to be passed on in this recipe. I hope you’ll enjoy it too, and please do check out the various Indian sweets I’ve shared earlier on this blog as well.

This multi-grain flatbread, also known as chilla, is a kind of crepe that has made an appearance on this blog before in a chickpea avatar. This version, which uses a selection of different flours, is very similar to the thaali peeth from Maharashtra or the sathu maavu that is popular in South India. This is a rustic flatbread that is best consumed in monsoons as it takes longer to digest and gives an energy boost, but it is also perfect for me right now as I take a break from rice and wheat. It is a great way to enjoy my dals and veggies. It does contain a very small quantity of wheat as a binding agent, but this can be eliminated if you ensure that you roll out each piece very gently and delicately.

While I am cutting down on this ingredient, I do want to say that I think it’s sad and perhaps unfair that wheat has become a culinary culprit at late. Newer health concerns like celiac disease and gluten sensitivity, which were unheard of when I was growing up, are now much more widespread. On this note, I want to add that with the health and nutritional requirements of my customers in mind, I do offer a selection of gluten-free cakes. Vegan and sugar-free cakes are also on the re:store menu. Please explore our options and see what calls to you, and give me a call. I get a lot of enquiries about cakes that use artificial sweeteners, but I am still wary of those, so I haven’t accepted such orders. I would rather use a natural sweetener in small quantities, or eliminate it altogether.

I’ve used five different flours to prepare this dish. Feel free to use whatever is available in your home. In mine, since I prepare this quite frequently, I gathered together all the grains and had them milled together. In that sense, my flour mix is a homemade one. This is more convenient than reaching out for half a dozen jars each time I want to prepare a multi-grain flatbread. You can just store one jar instead, and use it for your regular consumption. Growing up, my mother made bajra rotlo  quite a lot, but this is my own go-to. You can also prepare this in a thinner consistency, make it in an uthappam style and so on. Use the dough in your preferred way to create a flatbread.

I accompany this multi-grain flatbread with a simple vegetable sabzi or a dal, or sometimes just a pickle and some yoghurt, or even a chutney. There are multiple recipes for these accompaniments on these blog over the years, so I invite you to spend some time exploring the archives, following tags that interest you.

Multi-Grain Flatbread

(Yield: 6)

¼ cup besan flour

¼ cup rice flour

¼ cup ragi flour

¼ cup bajra flour

¼ cup wheat flour

½ teaspoon ajwain (carom seeds)

A handful of coriander leaves (finely chopped)

Salt to taste

½ teaspoon sesame seeds

A pinch of turmeric

1 tablespoon oil

2 tablespoons curd

13 cup finely chopped onions

Water as required

In a bowl. add all the flours, as well as salt and turmeric. Mix with your hand. Now, add the onions, coriander leaves, oil, curd, sesame seeds and ajwain. Mix lightly and add enough water to bind into a dough. You will not require more than 1 cup, and the quantity ultimately depends on the flours you use.

Once you have made a dough that doesn’t stick to your fingers easily, divide it into 6 equally-sized balls.

Using a rolling pin and stand, dip the balls into some flour again. Then, roll them out gently. Pat occasionally with your fingers. Form a circular shape.

Heat a pan and place a rolled out roti onto it. Allow to cook on one side then flip over. Once it has cooked, add a few drops of oil on both sides and flip so that it turns golden evenly. Make the rest of your multi-grain flatbread pieces this way too.

You can enjoy this the way you would any flatbread, as I said earlier. What are your preferred accompaniments? I’d love to know. If you’re a fan of Indian flatbreads in general, you may also enjoy this post of mine on a variety of Gujarati rotis.

I don’t know whether sabudana wada, a savoury snack made of mashed potatoes with a coating of tapioca pearls, is a typically Maharashtrian dish or a typically Gujarati dish – but that to me is the beauty of India. Cultures blend and co-exist, respectfully. That is who we as a country really are, and we should not forget this.

I grew up in that kind of India, and while I was growing up I knew sabudana wada as not just a Gujarati dish but one specific to the Vaishnav community. This was because it was among the items that my mother, who observed fasts called Farali in which grains were not permitted, prepared during those times. What to my mother was a religious observance was an opportunity for tasty delights to me, as a child. As a fried dish, sabudana wada was logically delicious.  Other things that we ate during Farali were yam, potato and sweet potato preparations, some of which I will share with you soon.

While the dishes themselves were something I always appreciated and looked forward to, it is only with maturity and hindsight that I am able to see just how important those traditions were to my mother culturally. But more than that, I am able to appreciate how broad-minded she was in the way she raised us. She had come from a conservative family, and we lived in a joint family with our grandfather (who was with us up to the age of 89). He fasted devoutly, and so did she – but never did she impose the various fasts they both kept through the calendar on my siblings and I. Despite not having a formal education, she understood intrinsically that it was wrong to force her beliefs on us.

Interestingly, her leniency meant that by seeing and admiring her example, the traditions she held dear actually became imbued in us. I can see them live on in my daily life now, in the rituals I observe and the food I consume. The next generation, my children, who were raised quite liberally, similarly learn about culture from my example. They see how it is a part of who I am, and it becomes a part of them too.

When I think about my upbringing and that of my peer group, I feel as though we were all raised in a much more harmonious and open way, even though what was common in our generation was that parents and families tended to make all the big choices on their children’s behalf. From education to career to marriage and more, these decisions were not usually in our own hands (I rebelled on a few counts to chart my own path, but the norm was always to respect one’s parents’ wishes). But our so-called conservative parents had such a natural affinity for cross-cultural exchange.

My sister and I were sent to a convent school as it had the best curriculum in the city, and I remember well how I would pray at the chapel with all my heart – and then go home to eat authentic Vaishnav Gujarati meals and pray in my family’s altar too. I had a burqa-wearing friend at that same convent school too, and she is but one example of the mix of communities, languages and backgrounds that we grew up with. At school, it didn’t matter to anyone at all whether you wore a bindi or a hijab, as long as your shoes were polished and your uniform was pressed and your nails were tidily cut.

We had so many perspectives to open our minds. We played together, studied together and broke bread together without thinking of the differences between us – because where it really mattered, there were none.

That was the India I grew up in, one in which diversity was celebrated and not considered unusual in the least. If you are of my generation, I have little doubt that that was the India you grew up in too. Let’s not forget where we came from. Personally, I see food as going a long way in restoring that harmony.

On that note, let us return to the topic of sabudana wada – a lovely Indian snack for everyone to enjoy, background no bar. Just bring your appetite and a warm, open heart.

Sabudana Wada

(Yield: Approximately 10)

 

½ cup raw tapioca pearls (will become 1 cup)

2 tablespoons crushed peanuts

1 cup boiled and mashed potato

1 teaspoon ginger green chilli paste

Salt to taste

2 tablespoons coriander leaves (finely chopped)

1 teaspoon sugar

3-5 drops lemon juice

Oil for frying

Clean and wash the tapioca pearls and then soak them for 4-5 hours. Strain the water. Make sure it is strained well. The pearls need to be dry to the touch. If needed, you can spread them over a thin cloth and allow them to dry a little.

Next, boil the potatoes until tender. Peel and mash the potatoes well while they are hot and set aside.

Now, add all the remaining ingredients together and mix well. Massage with the palms of your hands until you form a dough. Divide the dough into small discs. Sabudana wadas are ideally dainty, small and pretty, although you are welcome to make bigger-sized ones if you prefer.

In a pan on a medium flame, add oil. Heat the oil and drop the wadas and fry until they are golden and crisp on both sides.

They are now ready to be served. Enjoy with green chutney or ketchup.

Sabudana wada goes perfectly with a cup of chai. These lovely little snacks are ideal for a rainy day evening. We enjoy them very much at home, and I hope you will too.

 

I’m the inquisitive type, and I love to know about everything that I eat. Recently, an ice cream recipe I was trying out called for guar gum, which made me wonder about its relationship to guar or cluster beans. With a little insight from Wikipedia, I learned this fun fact: guar gum, widely used internationally, comes from the guar seed and is exported from India. Guar gum is a thickening agent, and used in food industries around the world. Unfortunately, the processing the raw seed undergoes renders the final product rather unhealthy. Still, that takes away nothing from the goodness of guar itself. This wonderfully healthy vegetable hasn’t made an appearance on my blog so far, probably because it is not enjoyed by most of my family. But I know from experience that it is an acquired taste. I’ve been making it in a typical Gujarati style recently, in the form of guar dhokli. You may remember my dal dhokli recipe from years ago, and will be familiar with the stew-like concept behind it. This is similar: parcels of dough, known as dhokli, are cooked in a gravy – this one, full of nourishing guar.

Cluster beans are a bitter vegetable. The dhokli part of the dish balances this flavour out. Guar dhokli on the whole is a dish with several textures and flavours, and healthy too. As someone who enjoys a wide variety of vegetables, including unpopular ones like this one, I can safely say that a nice preparation, along with awareness of the benefits of an ingredient, can change one’s mind about it. This one contains: glyconutrients and a low glycemic index (making them good for diabetic diets) and folic acid (good for pregnancy diets). More generally, it is good for blood circulation, lowers bad cholesterol, and is rich in minerals, iron and Vitamins A, B and K.

As I mentioned, my family members aren’t fans, but I am. However, I too detested guar when I was growing up. My mother would make guar dhokli often and I would pick the guar out of the gravy and just eat the dhoklis, much to her fury! Funnily enough, once I got married and moved away, whenever I visited her I would request guar dhokli. It had a nostalgic quotient, and it truly began to grow on me. At this point, I would even go as far as to call guar one of my favourite vegetables. Some day, when my kids find themselves having a strange craving for it, they can look up this recipe. I am certain they will also have a change of palate as they get older.

The typical thaali that we eat at my house daily consists of a dal bhaat (dal and rice), rotli and a shaak, which is some kind of vegetable curry. This is the most basic Gujarati meal, and will be found at most households at lunch-time. Some may make it more elaborate by having one dry vegetable and a gravy one, or a savoury item and a sweet. But the core three elements remain. What happens in my home is that I often end up cooking some guar or some ridge gourd (which I I enjoy in a South Indian stir-fry, and have shared the recipe before) or some other vegetable that the others don’t like. So this just-for-me preparation becomes one extra dish, in addition to the core three.

When it comes to my kitchen, there are certain items that only I make. This guar dhokli happens to be one of them. Another one of my specialties is this Gujarati potato and brinjal curry. These recipes were transferred from my mother’s hands to mine, and somehow they just don’t taste the same unless I make them myself.

While preparing this guar dhokli, I pondered about how this authentic recipe has been preserved through the generations. My mother was only 19 when she moved to Chennai, and my siblings and I were born and raised here, just as my own children were. Still, we speak pure and perfect Gujarati at home, and the majority of the dishes we ate growing up were authentic ones. Even as I enjoy fusion food and amalgamating cuisines, I still find a way to maintain cultural and language traditions, even while integrating elements and influences. Food, of course, is the most beautiful way to do this – it’s amazing how we can enjoy diversity and also enjoy authenticity at the dining table.

Guar Dhokli

(Yield: 3-4)

 

Gravy

¼ kilogram cluster beans

2 tablespoons oil

1 teaspoon ajwain (carom seeds)

Salt to taste

A pinch of turmeric

1 tbsp dhaniya jeera powder (coriander and cumin powder)

½ teaspoon sugar

2 cups water

 

Dhokli

¼ cup whole wheat flour

¼ cup chickpea flour

Salt to taste

A pinch of turmeric

A pinch of chilli powder

1 teaspoon oil

¼ cup (or less) water

 

First, prepare the dhoklis. Make a tight dough with the above ingredients, adjusting the water accordingly. Now, make small discs with the palm of your hand. Set aside.

Then, prepare the gravy. First, wash and cut the guar into the desired size.

In a pressure cooker, add the oil. Once it has heated, add the ajwain. Next, add the chopped guar. Add 1 cup of water and allow the vegetable to cook until it is tender. This takes no more than 1 whistle.

Once cooled, open the lid and add another cup of hot water and then add the dhoklis that were set aside earlier.

Add the remaining spices and stir gently.

Once cooked, allow to cool for about 5-8 minutes. Your guar dhokli is now ready.

This dish is best served with rotis or rice, since it has a gravy component.

There you have it – guar dhokli, a dish that can turn a rather unpopular vegetable into a hit. Try it yourself and tell me what you think. I hope this recipe inspires you to bring the cluster bean into your repertoire, on repeat!

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!

 

 

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?

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!

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!