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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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Recipe: The Goodness Of Gooseberries – Star Gooseberry Rice

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I literally grew up under a star gooseberry tree – the very same tree that you may know as amla or nellika. I loved the fruit of that tree so much that I braved its hairy inhabitants, known in Tamil as kambili poochis (blanket worms, a type of caterpillar that becomes a moth). These small creatures have a self-protection mechanism of dropping their spiky, needle-like hairs onto the skin of predators or threats – such a little girl greedy for some ripe fruit! How many times would I have run crying to my mother with one hand full of green star gooseberries and the other one holding the sore spot lanced by caterpillar hairs? She would painstakingly have to remove each one, and this was a pretty frequent occurrence. Even caterpillars could not keep me away from the fruit that I craved!

Although a long time has passed since then, I still have a star gooseberry tree in my home now. Like all native trees that seemed to be everywhere in Chennai when I was growing up, they are scarcer now, and I cultivate those in my backyard with care. I repeatedly tell my children stories about my misadventures with the caterpillars that lived on the one in my childhood home, mostly because I don’t see them any longer. I wonder if this has something to do with urban pollution, and with how we are misusing our planet. We as human beings are responsible for the disappearing bees, and the extinction of so many other species. Even though the caterpillars can literally hurt me, they are proof of the health of this planet, and I hope to see them crawling in my garden again some day.

The variant of the gooseberry tree I have at home is the same as the one I grew up with. It is the ribbed or ridged star gooseberry (nellika), not the softer, more rounded amla. They are closely related fruits and you can use either one in this recipe. I prefer the star gooseberry for its sour taste, whereas the amla has a hint of bitterness. I enjoy this fruit so very much that I don’t just eat it plain, but incorporate it into my cooking as well. This star gooseberry rice is a wonderful way to bring its unique flavour into your meals. Pickling is another great idea, given the fruit’s naturally intense taste.

The best-known benefit of all Indian gooseberries is that they have a very high Vitamin C quotient. They are also very good for fighting sinus-related issues, boosting immunity, beautifying skin and hair and improving digestion. The leaves and roots of the tree also have a long list of uses in traditional medicines, in anti-viral, anti-venom, analgesic and other capacities.

This post came together between a friend mentioning eating star gooseberry rice one day, a trip down memory lane about those hairy caterpillars, and more recent memories from journeys around India.

On some of my travels, I have noticed gooseberry-shaped artistic motifs in borders and jalis at different monuments and temples across India – including even at the Taj Mahal – and this made me think about how India has always been a land of plenty. I understood that these motifs of so many common culinary and botanical elements that we take for granted – including not just star gooseberries but pomegranates, mangoes and a great variety of flora and fauna as well – are ways to celebrate that bounty, depicting the amazing harvests that grow here. Among all our many exotic mysteries and riches, the natural wealth of India attracted so many to our shores, and still does. We have so much to be proud about.

Star Gooseberry Rice

(Serves 2)

2 tablespoons sesame oil

2 tablespoons groundnuts

¼ teaspoon methi seeds

¼ teaspoon mustard seeds

¼ teaspoon cumin seeds

½ teaspoon channa dal

½ teaspoon urad dal

1 green chilli

2 cups cooked rice

Salt to taste

A pinch turmeric

A few curry leaves

4 grated star gooseberries

1 grated tablespoon coconut

Finely chopped coriander leaves (garnishing)

In a kadai, add oil. Once it has heated, add the groundnuts and allow them to splutter. Next, add the mustard seeds, cumin seeds, channa dal, urad dal, methi, green chilli, grated coconut and curry leaves. Mix well. Now, add the grated Indian gooseberries – whichever variant you have on hand or prefer.

Once the mixture turns lightly golden, add the rice, salt and turmeric. Stir well.

Garnish with the coriander leaves and serve.

I hope you’ll enjoy that unique flavour of this star gooseberry rice. If you’re a fan of rice dishes in general and are always looking to spice up your plain steamed rice, you may want to explore the many recipes I’ve shared earlier that do exactly this. Raw mango rice, dill rice or spinach rice make for exciting daily staples. Vegetable biryani is perfect for a small celebration. If you want something a little more exotic, this glutinous black sticky rice with mango is quite a delight. Do try them out and let me know what you think!

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Recipe: Pretty In Purple – Jamun Drink

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I have been seeing these gorgeous lilac drinks being made and beautifully captured by food bloggers abroad this summer, and have been so enamoured by their vivid colour and the extremely pretty flowers. I admired them, a little wistful that lilacs do not grow here, only to quickly realise that we too have a glorious abundance of plants and blooms. In the tropics, and especially here in India, we have just as much colour, flavour, texture and taste – if not more? – to captivate our senses. I have written in the past about my love for manoranjitha, oosi malli, shenbagha and other native flowers, some of which have faded from memory and many of which I’ve been trying to grow both on our farm and at home. These musings led me to remember the perfect local equivalent to lilacs, the plant (and specifically, the fruit rather than the flower) that could let me create an eye-catchingly vibrant beverage as well: jamun.

Also known as Java plum and Indian blackberry, jamun is indigenous to this region. The fruit is prized for a range of health benefits. These include: reducing blood sugar levels, improving cardiac health and haemoglobin production, assisting the digestive and immune systems and regulating blood pressure. It has a cooling effect, and it’s wonderful that its season is at the cusp between the summer and the monsoon, when it can simultaneously beat the heat while building immunity for the upcoming rains. It has a unique umami-like taste, which people either like or don’t (similar to the love-it-or-loathe-it jackfruit, which also happens to be in season now).

Here in Chennai, we all grew up with jamun trees around us, that we ate from directly. They were literally in our own backyards and in the neighbourhood. We consumed only local fruits in those years – bananas, mangoes, jamun, jackfruit (and of course, if we were lucky to get away to the hills, the summer bounty of fruits and vegetables there, which I’ve talked about here). Even fruits like litchees that grew in North India didn’t make their way to our markets, and some of the produce that has since been cultivated in the hills (like strawberries) had not yet been introduced. Now, of course, the market is full of exotic imports. But when I see the exorbitant prices on a pack of foreign raspberries, for instance, I sometimes wonder why I’d reach out for it when the Indian blackberry and other local fruits are right here – accessible, nourishing and delicious?

On the subject of local plants, I’ve just redone my little garden and it has truly become a place of joy and solace for me. Full of lushness and greenery, it has a pleasant clime despite the heat. I love hanging out there, either by myself or with my family. We have had some beautiful, quiet dinners there, in that intimate and special space. At other times, I sit by myself and read a book as I sip on a nice beverage. If someone hollers for me and I’m nowhere to be found in my house, I am definitely in this sanctuary of mine. It was my birthday a few days ago, and it was where I was able to have both moments of contemplation as well as moments of celebration. With a glass of this fabulous jamun drink by my side, of course.

Jamun (Indian Blackberry) Drink

(Yield: approximately 4 glasses)

 

300 grams jamun

2-3 cups cold water

Black salt to taste

Sugar or jaggery (optional)

¼ teaspoon roasted cumin powder

 

De-seed the berries and put them in a blender along with the salt, cold water and cumin powder. The amount of water you use depends on the consistency you prefer. Use a sweetener if you’d like to. Blend well.

Strain into the glasses, add an optional topping of mint leaves – and then go to the sweet, safe spot in your home that’s your “happy place” and relax! Let’s raise a toast to good things ahead for us, which we all so richly deserve.

This jamun drink can be very filling, so portion sizes are important. You can thin it with more water, or else have a smaller glass of thick juice. With jamun, as with many other highly flavourful items, there can be such a thing as too much of a good thing. In my case, when I enjoy something, I can sometimes eat such a lot of it or have it so often that I feel sick of it after a point. So as wonderful and stunningly attractive as this drink is, I do take care to have a just-right portion.

There you have it, a lovely seasonal drink, just perfect to enjoy as the summer begins to turn to the monsoon. If you’re someone who enjoys discovering new thirst-quenchers, I hope you’ll explore the various beverages I’ve shared on this blog over the years.

As I said, for me, making this jamun drink all began with that enchanting colour – about which these photographs really say it all. But thinking about it a little more, I wondered if there are other ways I can bring this fruit into my meals? Do you have any jamun recipes you can share with me?

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Recipe: Stemming The Summer Heat – Banana Stem Buttermilk

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Dairy is a huge part of the pan-Indian diet, and among its many forms, buttermilk is consumed across the length and breadth of the country during the summer. It is mentioned in Ayurvedic texts as a coolant, and provably has this effect on the body. In lore, it was among the delicious goods that Krishna often stole from the cowherds, with his mother Yashoda usually discovering his theft quickly and reprimanding him for it. It has been in our history and mythology for millennia, and in our kitchens as well. A few years ago, I shared a recipe for spiced buttermilk, and today I am sharing one for a flavoured variant: banana stem buttermilk.

As I mentioned in a recent recipe, my mother made butter at home while we were growing up, and its sour residual buttermilk was used in kadhi and other dishes. As a beverage, I prefer my buttermilk less sour and make it with fresh homemade yoghurt, which you can also get into a daily routine of preparing yourself.

How the straightforward buttermilk that I regularly consume came to be pepped up with banana stem is really a photographer’s story. Some time ago, I had been preparing banana stem poriyal, a Tamil stir-fry side dish, when something caught my eye as I was slicing the ingredient. A beautiful geometric pattern (designed by Nature) along the edges of the stem captivated me. I was moved to pause my cooking and pick up my camera. Somehow, as I worked, the thought of adding the ingredient to our regular post-lunch buttermilk occurred to me. From stir-fry to shoot subject to summer heat-buster, the humble banana stem had quite a journey in my hands that day.

Though it is humble indeed, and sometimes neglected for this reason, banana stem is a much-loved ingredient in Tamil cuisine due to its powerful health benefits. It is most famous for being able to dissolve kidney stones, and also has anti-diabetic and detoxification properties. It is rich in iron, fibre, potassium and Vitamin B. It can be eaten raw, but not everyone’s constitution reacts well to this, so you can lightly steam it before consumption without losing much of its nutritious qualities too. Although I was inspired that day to put my photographic muse into my afternoon drink, it was not a brainwave that simply came out of nowhere. Somewhere in my growing years, at some friend’s house or another, I certainly drank banana stem buttermilk. As a local, accessible and inexpensive ingredient, it has always been put to good use by cooks over the centuries.

As mentioned, we have buttermilk with our summer lunches daily, or else a banana. Either a drink to cool the body down, or else the fruit of the same plant to assist with digestion. This was the case when I was a child as well, when my mother would prepare plain buttermilk that was seasoned with nothing but salt and cumin powder. During the summers, our school holiday time, we would play with our neighbourhood friends in the afternoon, climbing trees and tiring ourselves out in a happy way, then have a glass of this and go off for a siesta. The drink was especially vital because it would also be mango season. Mangoes in high quantities increase body heat. Of course, we would have gorged on them, so something had to be consumed to counter this.

Buttermilk really is a summer beverage for so many reasons, and I always find it interesting and awe-inspiring how Nature laid everything out for us in such a way that there is always a seasonal logic. Isn’t it marvellous that yoghurt just takes 3-4 hours to set at this time of year, when it is a more necessary part of our diets, as opposed to needing to set overnight in winter? To this natural design, we also add our common sense: we consume cooling buttermilk during the day, when the sun is high, and not at dinner time.

As a Gujarati born and brought up in Tamil Nadu, bringing the local banana stem into my traditional buttermilk was an intuitive choice. You can make it with other flavours too. The sweetened version of this drink, the lassi, is similarly versatile, and you may remember a fruity version from my recent mango series.

Banana Stem Buttermilk

(Yield: 2 cups)

1 cup chopped banana stem

2 cups yoghurt

1 piece ginger

¼ teaspoon asafoetida

A few curry leaves

A handful of chopped coriander leaves

1 green chilli

½ teaspoon roasted cumin powder

Salt to taste

2 -3 cups water

Juice of half a lime/lemon

Chop the banana stem and soak the pieces in water. Set aside while you prepare the other ingredients. If you tend to find consuming raw banana stem difficult on your digestion, lightly steam it beforehand.

In a bowl, prepare the yoghurt by adding salt and cumin powder. Add 2 ½ cups water and beat well. Keep aside.

Discard the water that the chopped banana stem was soaking in. Put the chopped stem pieces into a blender. Add the green chili, coriander leaves, asafoetida, ginger and curry leaves. Add the remaining ½ cup water and blend well. The quantity of water you use depends on how thick you want your beverage. Then, strain the thick purée into the prepared buttermilk. Add a dash of lime/lemon juice, for a bit of a sour tang.  Beat well. Consume immediately, before it starts to change colour.

I hope you’ll enjoy this nutritious banana stem buttermilk! I’ve shared quite a few summery beverages over the years, and here are some more recipes for your enjoyment too, shared with good wishes for your health and well-being: strawberry-rose smoothie, barley lime drink, rose sherbet and curry leaf and raw mango cooler.

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Recipe: Wonderfully Delicious – White Dhokla

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When I shared this recipe for a dhokla made of green moong a couple of years ago, I had mentioned that Gujaratis are so famous for this item of food that it’s what we are stereotypically called. “Hey, dhokla!” – there is hardly a Gujarati who hasn’t heard this phrase, just as there is hardly a Gujarati who doesn’t, as stereotyped, love this dish. Dhoklas are a kind of savoury cake, spongy in texture. There are numerous varieties of dhoklas, and the khaman dhokla (yellow in colour, and made with channa dal) is the most popular one, and the one you may be acquainted with from restaurants. But the one that Gujaratis mostly consume at home is the white dhokla, which I am sharing the recipe for today.

There are two kinds of white dhoklas: a version that is more tedious to prepare, which entails washing rice, drying it in the sun and then powdering it. My mother would make these traditional rice flour dhoklas often, but for a quick go-to it was always the rava dhokla. The rava dhokla is the other version of white dhokla, and the recipe that I’ll share today. It tastes quite similar to the rice flour dhokla, and has a quick and easy process. It makes for a light dinner, or as a tasty snack when you have company, and is often had with garlic chutney or a sweet mango pickle.

As you may know from some of my photography, I love antique kitchen objects. They are not only subjects or props to me, but are functional too. I have an old dhokla maker, one that feels like it has always been with me. I cannot remember when it entered my kitchen. Similar to an idly cooker, except flat, it has a set of plates stacked on top of each other. The dhoklas are steamed on these, then cut and served.

To be honest, I don’t use my dhokla maker very often because I don’t make dhoklas at home frequently, even though we all enjoy this dish very much. I think this is because, for me, the perfect dhokla was always my mother’s. Even when she became really old and would rarely cook, and I would send her all her meals, I would ask her to prepare just dhoklas for me. With great love, she and I had a recurrent jesting conversation in which I would make fun of her – “What’s this, why are you sitting around? Time to start training for a marathon! Or how about getting started on the cooking, and make me some dhoklas?” I would say, and she would laugh, or offer one of her famous smiles – to be followed shortly by a mouthwatering beautiful treat. My sister’s dhoklas are a close second, but as for me, I am still learning – and as always, eager to share what I know.

That reminds me also of how, not so long ago when we were all still zipping up and down the country and around the world with ease, I would pack dhoklas for short flights of under three or four hours. They travel well as they don’t need accompaniments, and the best part is that they don’t have a strong smell. The whole plane doesn’t find out that you’re eating dhoklas when you open your lunchbox. So I’d fly off to Mumbai, eating my own dhoklas in the air, and when I arrived, my sister would be ready to serve me a fresh batch of her own.  I guess it’s true what they say: no matter where we are, Gujaratis can’t get enough of a good dhokla.

White Dhokla

(Yield: Serves 2)

 

1 cup rava

½ cup yoghurt

1 cup + ½ cup water

Salt to taste

1 tablespoon oil

½ teaspoon ENO fruit salt

½ teaspoon green chili-ginger paste

 

Tempering:

2-3 tablespoons oil

¼ teaspoon mustard seeds

¼ teaspoon cumin seeds

A few curry leaves

 

In a bowl, add rava, yoghurt, 1 cup of water, salt, green chili-ginger paste and oil. Mix well. You will get a thick batter. Set this aside for at least half an hour.

Now, the batter would have thickened further. It needs to be of the consistency of idly batter, so add the remaining half cup of water if required.

Add the ENO fruit salt and gently mix the batter. At this point, it will be frothing.

Prepare the dhokla cooker / plates by greasing them. Then, pour the batter into the plates and steam for about 20-25 minutes with the lid on.

Remove the plates from the cooker once the batter has cooked. Allow to cool.

Finally, temper the dhokla. For this, heat the oil and add the mustard seeds and cumin seeds. Allow them to splutter, then add the curry leaves. Immediately, pour this hot mixture over the dhokla.

Cut and serve plain or with accompaniments of your choice. Once again, I would recommend trying out one or all of the three dips in my recent Indian condiments series. The raw mango thovayal, the lasun ki chutney or the ginger chutney will beautifully elevate the soft, spongy dhokla. I hope you’ll enjoy this delicious white dhokla – and that it will make you clearly understand why we Gujaratis love it so much! If you do, don’t forget to try out the green moong dhokla variant too. Let me know which one you prefer!

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