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Dal is made in every single Gujarati home almost every single day. Literally. No exaggeration. Dal is the staple, the tradition, the go-to, the “I must have my daily dal”. It is made the same way every afternoon, and we never get bored of it. Come what may, there’s a bowl of dal on the table for lunch, alongside a vessel of hot rice. Given what a fundamental part of our palate it is, it’s funny that it’s taken me over four years of blogging to share the recipe, especially when so many of you have also requested it from me. But here it is, finally! I can say for certain that it’s been worth the wait.

While I’ve asserted repeatedly over so many recipes that every dish tastes different based on the cook, the kitchen and the place it’s being made in, this one somehow always tastes the same. Which is to say: it tastes perfect. It’s a mainstay, made exactly the same way no matter who is making it or where. I have enjoyed it everywhere I have tried it and have never tasted a difference. So what you are getting today is an absolutely authentic, time-honoured recipe for quintessentially Gujarati dal.

It’s funny how the stereotype as far as food is concerned goes “dhokla!”, when dhokla isn’t quite the backbone of the cuisine the way that dal-bhat (dal and rice) is. It should tell you so much about stereotypes versus the real experience because while we may not be famously associated with dal-bhat, it’s such a part of our culture that the dish even forms part of our pleasantries. When one Gujarati person meets up with another, we often say these words: “dal-bhat, rotli, shaak?” The phrase means: “dal and rice, rotli and vegetables?”. The question is a way of saying, “Have you eaten?” – a typical and pan-Indian form of polite chatter. If you notice, dal-bhat is the first term even though it is actually served later in a meal. In a traditional meal, it is rotlis that are served first, and once the rice comes out you know that there are no more rotlis left. Still, in our greetings, the importance is accorded to dal-bhat, because that’s the place it has in our hearts.

The Gujarati dal and rice combo is one that has been relished for generations in my home. When my husband was little, his grandpa nicknamed him Dal-Sukh Dal-Bhat (“sukh” means “happiness”) because it was the only dish that always satisfied him, without fail. My husband’s grandpa also lived to the ripe old age of 99, very fit and healthy on a daily diet of dal and rice – and happily watching his great-grandchildren eat this beloved dish every day too. The very first solid food that my children all ate was dal and rice, and it is still their comfort food. Just as in some South Indian homes, when kids come home after eating out somewhere, they’ll head to the kitchen and say, “Ma, do you have any thayir sadam (curd rice)?”, a bit of dal-bhat is the dish that most Gujaratis will crave in order to feel like a meal is truly complete.

Never come between a Gujarati and their dal rice. Trust me, no matter what other traditions are parted from, this one will stay true for the ages!

While dals are eaten everywhere in India, what makes this one unique to our community is that it panders to our famous sweet tooth. It contains jaggery, which sweetens it, and is also made tangy through kokum. It should only be made with toor dal (pigeon pea), and there is no substitute for this ingredient that won’t alter the entire recipe and the entire experience.

Gujarati Dal

(Yield: Serves 4-5 persons)

 

½ cup raw toor dal

2 cups + 2 cups water

2 tablespoons ghee

½ teaspoon mustard seeds

½ teaspoon cumin seeds

1 dry red chilli

A pinch of methi seeds

A few curry leaves

A pinch of asafoetida

½ cup finely chopped tomato

Salt to taste

¼ teaspoon turmeric powder

½ teaspoon red chili powder

2 tablespoons unsalted peanuts

3 tablespoons jaggery

4-6 stems of kokum flowers

¼ cup chopped coriander leaves

 

Wash and strain the dal. Pressure cook it in 2 cups of water. Then, blend the dal with a handheld blender and set it aside.

In a kadai, add ghee. Once it has heated, add the mustard seeds, cumin seeds and fenugreek seeds and allow them to splutter. Next, add the dry red chili and the salt, chili powder, turmeric and asafoetida. Finally, add the curry leaves, peanuts, chopped coriander leaves and chopped tomato. Sauté. Cover with a lid and allow this to cook on a slow flame until all the spices and the tomato come together and look mashed, as in this video below.

Now, add the jaggery. Then, add the blended dal that was set aside earlier. You will need to add more water at this stage, based on the thickness you prefer. I’ve added 2 cups. Remember that once cooled, the dal will thicken a little more.

The final touch is to add the kokum to the kadai. If you don’t have this ingredient, you can use a little lime juice as a substitute. Allow the concoction to boil for approximately 4-5 minutes.

Then, serve hot alongside rice or rotli, or both – as in a traditional Gujarati thaali.

Not only does this dish have the charm of simplicity and familiarity, it is also downright delicious. It’s truly such a pleasure to share this recipe for this deeply-loved Gujarati dal with you. I would not be surprised to hear of it being made in your own home daily from now on, just as it has been in mine since time immemorial!

Osaman is a kind of thin broth made in Gujarati kitchens. It’s rather similar to rasam, although certain ingredients like tamarind are eliminated whereas other ingredients like jaggery are used. As I’ve said numerous times in other posts, every community and region in India will have its own variations on certain staples: rices, curries, dals and so on. With it being mango season here – in the country as well as on this blog! – this ripe mango rasam I shared a couple of years back was on my mind. That was when an idea struck: why not make the traditional osaman I had grown up with, but with a luscious, fruity twist?

Osaman is essentially made using the water that dal is boiled in, and served alongside the same dal in a meal. Inspired partly by mango rasam and partly by the Gujarati curry known as fajeto (which is similar to Tamil cuisine’s morkuzhambu), I blended some ripe mango into an osaman as a culinary experiment. The result was something delightful, and I’m excited to share it with you today. This mango osaman is my own recipe, bringing together various comforting influences into a single dish.

Despite being popular in Gujarati homes in the summer, the yoghurt-based fajeto is a heavier dish, and is not among my family’s favourites. They’ve been getting their dairy intake from this lovely lassi anyway, so this osaman was the perfect substitute, allowing me to bring mangoes into our lunch preparations in a new way as well. It’s been much appreciated, and I’m sure it will become a part of our regular meals over many mango seasons to come.

Ripe Mango Osaman

(Yield: Approximately 5 cups)

 

3½ cups water

1 cup ripe mango pulp

½ cup boiled toor dal

Juice of 1 lemon

Salt to taste

½ teaspoon turmeric powder

1 teaspoon cumin powder

1 teaspoon coriander powder

½ teaspoon red chilli powder

2 teaspoons jaggery

2 teaspoons ghee

½ teaspoon mustard seeds

½ teaspoon cumin seeds

1 teaspoon grated ginger

2 dry red chilies

A handful of finely cut coriander leaves

In a pot, add the dal, mango pulp and water. Mix well, using a hand blender.

Add the salt, cumin powder, coriander powder, jaggery, turmeric powder and grated ginger to the pot. Allow to boil for about five minutes so that the flavours come together nicely.

In a small pot, prepare the tadka (seasoning). Add ghee. Once it’s hot, add the mustard seeds, cumin seeds and dry red chillies. As soon as they begin spluttering, add the red chilli powder and immediately pour it over the hot osaman.

Squeeze some lemon juice over it, and garnish with coriander leaves and serve.

Just like rasam, this ripe mango osaman works beautifully both as a warm beverage and as an accompaniment to rice. I hope you’ll enjoy this Gujarati-Tamil fusion dish of mine. I’m simply thrilled to have one more recipe to make the most of my mango madness with!

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

Sweet Mango Pickle (Chhundo)

(Yield: 1 cup)

Ingredients

1 cup grated raw mango

1 ½ cups sugar

1 teaspoon coarsely ground cumin seeds

½ teaspoon salt

¼ teaspoon turmeric powder

1 teaspoon chilli powder

 

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

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

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

 

Spicy Mango Pickle

(Yield: 1 cup)

Ingredients

1 cup finely cut raw tangy mango pieces

½ teaspoon salt

1 pinch turmeric

¼ teaspoon ground fenugreek seeds

1 teaspoon red chilli powder

¼ teaspoon mustard seeds

1 tablespoon oil

 

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

Rose Sherbet

(Yield: Approximately 2 litres)

Ingredients

2 litres water

150 grams rose petals

1½  kilograms sugar

1 teaspoon citric acid

1 teaspoon rose extract

2 pinches of raspberry colour

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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