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If you’ve been following my blog for a while, you may not be surprised to hear me say that green moong is my favourite among lentils (you may know it as mung bean, green gram or pachai payiru). As you’d have seen, I’m so in love with its versatility that it’s found a place in recipes as diverse as this crunchy teatime snack and in this deeply filling meal-in-a-bowl. With Republic Day this weekend, honouring the Indian constitution, I thought of how to best honour a different kind of Indian constitution – and once again, the humble yet power-packed mung bean was what came to mind.

Green is one of the three stripes of the tricolour and greenness is something that I think we need and must celebrate in this country. It’s a colour that evokes fecundity, growth and serenity. In my previous post, I talked about the harvest festival Sankranti. As a farm-owner, and someone very invested in using the goods of my garden in my kitchen, “green” is a way of life for me. I hope that this year will be good for farms and farmers everywhere, for political calmness, and for harmony and oneness with nature.

The recipe I am sharing today is for green moong dhokla – a healthy, fermented, steamed dish that can be eaten as a main course, a snack or an accompaniment. Soft and flavourful, a dhokla is so ubiquitously Gujarati that it’s a stereotype. I’ve literally heard people say “Dhokla!” when they hear what my ethnicity is. We have so many varieties, and my personal favourite is actually the buckwheat kind which is eaten on Agyaras, the eleventh day of each month which is traditionally observed by Gujarati Vaishnavites as a relaxed fast during which no grains or salt are consumed, but buckwheat, fruits, yams, potatoes and the like are allowed. I’m not one for fasting, but I always look forward to having some dhokla when I’m around someone who is!

Once again, it was my sister who taught me how to make this – one more classic item from the Gujarati cuisine that she learnt after getting married, just like this til-ka-chikki. She has a knack for making it in practically a snap of the fingers – often, I’d ask for a plate of green moong dhokla, go downstairs for a bit, and come up to see it was already prepared.

This green moong dhokla is eye-catching thanks to its colour, which is always a great way to get kids to eat something that’s good for them. As you may remember from earlier posts, moong is extremely nutritious. It is a great source of fibre, potassium, manganese, folate and various vitamins and minerals. They are also an excellent source of protein, and I would say crucial to a vegetarian or vegan diet. They are known to lower blood pressure and sugar levels, prevent heat stroke, aid digestion, reduce the risk of cardiac disease, and possibly assist in weight loss.

A dhokla could be described as a kind of savoury sponge cake, steamed rather than baked. Every kind of dhokla is delicious, in my opinion. But as a Gujarati, I’m biased. Why don’t you try this version and tell me what you think?

Green Moong Dhokla

(Yield: 15-20 pieces)

1 cup green moong (mung beans)

½ teaspoon ground green chilli paste

1 teaspoon ginger paste

2+2 tablespoons oil

1 teaspoon lemon juice

1 cup coriander leaves

½ cup capsicum

½ teaspoon sugar

½ teaspoon eno powder

½ teaspoon mustard seeds

½ teaspoon cumin seeds

A few curry leaves

Salt to taste

Grated coconut (optional)

 

Soak the green moong overnight. In the morning, rinse the moong, remove the water and put the beans in a blender along with salt, coriander leaves, ginger paste and green chilli paste. You may need to add approximately a ½ cup of water to allow it to grind well. The The consistency of the batter needs to be a little thicker than that of pancake, or in other words, like idly batter.

Now, add 2 tablespoons of oil, and the lemon juice and finely cut capsicum to the batter.

Grease a plate and keep ready. Now, add eno fruit salt to the batter and mix gently. Pour the batter onto the greased plate, cover it and steam for 15 minutes. Below, you can see a traditional Gujarati dhokla cooker which my mom gave to me. I believed it was a part of her own wedding gifts. I’d forgotten that I’d had it and could use it. It’s still in perfect condition, and so compact and ideal. You can also see how it allows for cooking in layers.

Once steamed, remove the plate and allow the dhokla to cool. Cut into a desired shape. Square or rectangular pieces are the standard. I’ve done diamonds here.

In a small pan, add the remaining oil and the cumin and mustard seeds and wait for them to splutter. Once they start to splutter, add the curry leaves. Then, pour these over the cut dhokla. Garnish with coriander leaves and some grated coconut.

The green moong dhokla is now ready to serve. Spongy, spicy, and so very nice on the eyes with that gorgeous matcha cake colour. Like I said: have a piece as a snack, a couple as a side dish, or polish off the plate and call it a full meal. But honestly, I’d be surprised if you can stop at just one. These light, fluffy but very flavourful dhoklas demand to be devoured!

 

Sankranti, the harvest festival, is here and as we celebrate by giving thanks for the crops we eat daily, it’s til-ka-chikki that strikes me as a perfect dish for the occasion. The chief ingredient of this crunchy sweet is sesame, which is believed to have been cultivated in India for over 5500 years. As a form of produce that can grow with relatively little supervision, and in less than ideal conditions, there is no doubt to me that many of our ancestors would have considered it a perfect if not vital part of their Sankranti. Sankranti is known by various names throughout the country – it is also observed as Pongal, Bihu, Maghi and by other names depending on region. No matter where, it falls in mid-January and is a time when the sun is worshipped for its life-giving properties.

“Til” is the Gujarati word for sesame, as well as in other languages including Hindi and Punjabi. The English word “sesame” is from the Arabic “semsem”, indicating oil or liquid fat. This is because it is an oilseed produce. It’s an excellent digestive aid as it’s full of fiber, and also has high copper, manganese and calcium content, in addition to other vitamins and minerals.

Chikkis are a whole category of snacks, usually sweet thanks to the sticky jaggery that holds them together. We also make them with groundnuts, puffed rice (mora mora) and other variations, depending on the season. You can make them either in bars or in balls, and they also make a great ice cream topping when crushed. Til-ka-chikki is basically a sesame brittle, and today I’ll share the method to make them into bars.

I used to have a huge mental block about til-ka-chikki as I simply hadn’t known how to make it. My sister got married when she was just out of college, and she hadn’t learned how to cook yet. She went to her mother-in-law’s house, where she learned how to make the most beautiful traditional Gujarati dishes. I was still in high school at the time, and am still envious to this day about the culinary skills she picked up back then. Meanwhile, in my mother’s house, I was still studying but also began to slowly pick up recipes and techniques in the kitchen. I was probably inspired by my sister’s newfound talents, and our mother started me off on the basics, like rotli. Over time, I began to regard not only my mother and my own mother-in-law as my culinary teachers, but my older sister as well. My sister’s repertoire is vast. Even to this day, each time I visit her, I insist that she teaches me an entirely new dish  every time.

I overcame my mental block when I finally learned how to make this til-ka-chikki a couple of years ago, with her guidance. And I’ll admit that I am still learning. I don’t quite have the confidence to make it on my own yet, but every experiment has ended in happy mouths and sticky fingers. It would be great if you could learn it together alongside me. We could master it together, just as my sister has.

As with most traditional Gujarati sweets and snacks, this too requires only three ingredients. In this case, they are jaggery, sesame and ghee. If you’d like a vegan version, replace the ghee with a flavourless oil of your choice. Til-ka-chikki is also offered as a prasad, so while it is a simple dish it can also be a part of prayers for festive and special occasions. For Sankranti, of course, it’s a beautiful way to honour the sun that gave us this ancient and nutritious crop.

 

Til-Ka-Chikki (Sesame Brittle)

(Yield: 10-15 pieces)

 

Ingredients

½ cup sesame seeds

½ cup jaggery

1 tablespoon ghee

Grease an overturned steel plate and a rolling pin and keep these ready. Next, in a wok or kadai, roast the sesame seeds on a low flame. Occasionally increase to a medium flame for short spans. The sesame will take about 7 minutes to roast. Keep stirring until the colour changes.

Once roasted, transfer to a plate and allow to cool. Once cooled, taste a few seeds to check if they have a crunch to it. This means they are ready.

In the same wok or kadai, add the ghee. Then, add the jaggery and stir constantly on a low flame. As with the roasting of the sesame seeds, you may occasionally increase the flame to a medium for short spans, then immediately reduce it to a low again. Take care that the jaggery does not burn. Do see this video for reference: re:store sesame brittle video – 1

Mine took approximately 9 minutes to turn into a reddish colour. Once this happens, turn off the flame. Add the sesame seeds and stir well.

Drop the mixture onto the greased, overturned plate and immediately start to spread it out as thin as possible. You may need to use your fingers (dipped in water), while the rolling pin is coated with ghee. With this combination, try and spread it out in such a way that you mark lines for the pieces later.

Allow the spread mixture, striped with lines to form bars, to cool. Once it has completely cooled, place the plate on the stove and warm from below. The entire piece will come out as a whole. Break it along the marked lines. Store in an airtight container.

 

Here’s another process video: re:store sesame brittle video – 2

I want to say that this til-ka-chikki is easy to make, but I’ve already told you honestly that it’s not. But I love a challenge in the kitchen, and try again and again to better then perfect my dishes. Even with my photoshoots, it’s the same. When the end result comes out well, it’s all the more delicious when I know the effort that’s gone into it! Tell me how it goes when you try your hand at this dish. Wishing you and your loved ones a happy Sankranti!

 

 

When I was growing up, Diwali was a time when my mother made an entire array of sweets and savouries, such that I cannot point out one as a single most important tradition. All that changed for me when I got married and moved into my new home, when I became introduced to what is now a 30 year tradition for me: the simple and sacred dish of laapsi.

Laapsi is a Gujarati sweet which, like sukhudi uses just three ingredients: jaggery, broken wheat and ghee. In modern versions, people often add nuts, saffron and other flavourings, but the original and deep-rooted traditional method is extremely simple. The three basic ingredients were and are frugal, humble and delicious. In the old days, every household could reliably find enough to make a festive offering. As with sukhdi, laapsi is also first offered as prasad to the gods.

Diwali always falls on amavasai day, or the new moon. Different communities observe their own sets of festivities. For Gujaratis, it begins with Baras (the 12th day towards the waning moon), then Dhanteras (the 13th day, during which we pray to the goddess of prosperity, Lakshmi), then Kali Chaudas (when the goddess Kali is worshipped, not only with a sweet, but with a fried vadai which is symbolically thrown over the shoulder at a crossroads, indicating that you wish to leave behind the previous year) – and then, we have Diwali, which is also Chopda Puja. Chopda means “books”, and this is the day on which we perform a prayer similar to Ayudha Puja in other communities, when all our instruments (from accounting books to cameras and ladles) are kept at the altar and blessed. The day after Diwali is the Gujarati New Year.

I lost my father-in-law earlier this year, and since Indian homes traditionally will not celebrate festivals for a year after a loss, we won’t be going the whole way this year. However, my father-in-law was full of life and spirit and did not believe in observing that grieving period. He believed the life cycle should continue. So while we won’t over-celebrate this year, I will also ensure that we won’t put a full stop to joy. I am sure that is how he would have wanted it too. We had a cool, chilled out relationship. We had many fights and arguments, but I always knew that everything would be taken in the right spirit. And he was someone who was a huge influence on me, in everything from changing my perspectives to gifting me my first camera.

I will certainly miss him this Diwali. Every Diwali, he would give everyone a special token, a crisp 50 rupee note. All of us considered it a lucky charm, and kept it in our wallets until the following year. Who will do it this year? Many recent incidents have reminded me how important roots and traditions are, and how necessary it is to respect them. This is why there are so many things that I insist on doing in a ritualistic way, like keeping the umbrella on Ganesh Chaturthi, and making laapsi on Diwali. I know my kids will not follow all the things that I follow, but at least a few of those traditions will become meaningful to them too…

And if I can be hopeful, I would absolutely name laapsi as one of the traditions I hope my children will keep and cherish. Although we have all became health conscious and started rejecting sweets, I still insist that everyone partakes of our Diwali laapsi.

This year, my mother-in-law has moved back in with us, and it is nice to have her home. It reminds me of all the times that she shared her culinary wisdom with me (such as when she taught me this kachori that many of you enjoyed too). Diwali is just a few days away, and I am calling to mind how I used to watch her make laapsi during the first ten or twelve years of my marriage. Slowly, she stopped coming into the kitchen as often and I began to manage more of the cooking. But for a long time, I would still ask her to come in for certain traditional dishes. Laapsi was, of course, one of them. Different families follow different methods in order to make their own traditions. I follow hers to a T: no garnish, no frills, just three simple ingredients made for God and family.

And just like my mother-in-law taught me, I will not serve laapsi on any day other than Diwali. I consider it sacred. My family and I wish you a very happy Diwali and festive season, and I hope that this special dish brings you sweetness and joy too.

Laapsi

(Yield: 2-3 cups)

Ingredients

½ cup broken wheat
½ cup jaggery
2 ¼ cups water
3 teaspoons ghee

Boil the water in a pot and add the jaggery to it. Stir until the jaggery melts. Then strain the liquid through a strainer, making sure that it is clean. Measure the liquid to check that you now have 2 cups of jaggery water.

Toast the wheat and ghee till slightly golden. This will take approximately 3 minutes. Now add the liquid to the wheat and cover with a lid. Place this in a pressure cooker for 4-5 whistles. Once you open the pressure cooker, you will find that the concoction is still soft. You can now place the pot directly on to a low flame. Cover and let cook until the liquid dries up and its grainy.

I prefer using the cooker as it lessens the cooking time. Alternately, pour the hot jaggery water into the wheat in the pan and allow to cook covered, on a low flame, so it does not stick to the bottom. Let it be on the stove until the grains are cooked perfectly and soft to the bite. Do not stir frequently as this may cause the grains to get sticky.

As I mentioned earlier, there are different ways to make this. I do hope you will find yours once you make this often enough. You don’t have to restrict yourself to an annual occasion like I do!

Typically, we serve the hot lapsi with ghee, powdered sugar and lentils.

Given the deep Gujarati-ness of this recipe and this post, I hope you’ll also take a look at some of my previous recipes that celebrate my traditional cuisine.

 

With the festival of Navaratri coming up, when chickpeas are served to guests in many homes in a simple dish called sundal, I had the humble legume on my mind once again. Only this time, I felt inspired to pair it with another ingredient that’s an essential in every South Indian home: the curry leaf. With the occasional rains we are enjoying in Chennai at the moment, my curry leaf bush has been in full bloom. And when I have so much in my garden or farm, you know that it usually tends to go straight into my kitchen. I took these two local ingredients and put them together in a fusion dish: curry leaf and green chilli hummus.

Hummus is a Middle Eastern dish that is a part of daily cuisines in that part of the world, and is usually eaten with breads. It’s also popular everywhere as a party snack, a perfect dip for everything from sliced vegetables to skewered meat. I’ve tasted a lot of beetroot hummus, so I knew that the basic puree lends itself well to flavourings. That’s when my curry leaves caught my eye.

Also known as “sweet neem”, curry leaf is an ingredient that we almost take for granted in our Indian kitchens. Tempered or fresh sprigs are thrown into curries, the powder is eaten with rice, and so on. It adds flavour to so many dishes that it’s just a ubiquitous part of our cooking. With a range of health benefits, including antioxidant and anti-diabetic properties, it’s no wonder that our ancestors incorporated it into as many meals as they could.  Now that I grow curry leaves in my own home, I have been learning a little about the plant too. Did you know that the tiny berries, which are not used in cooking, are actually high in Vitamin C – but that their seeds are poisonous?

Long ago, my hummus attempts would be so mediocre that a good friend would send me tubs as I so enjoyed the dish. Over time, I learned how to make it and stopped depending on those shipments, just as I stopped depending on store-bought cakes and even began to experiement with homegrown ingredients. Trial and error is the key to learning, and by studying different recipes and adding my own touches, I finally arrived on a version I loved.

The main ingredient in hummus is the humble chickpea, which is a staple not only in the Middle East but all over India in its many forms. It’s eaten boiled for a healthy snack, powdered and roasted and used as a binder, and known by so many names – puttukadalai, chana dal, kabuli (did this come to us by way of Kabul, I wonder?), chole and so on. Abroad, you may know this legume as garbanzo beans. The darker variants have a higher iron content, while the chana dal I use for thus hummus is rich in protein and fibre, thus filling you quickly and also aiding weight loss. It is known to lower cholesterol and diabetic risk, and also has high zinc and folate content.

The traditional hummus has a bland, though satisfying, taste. I thought of how I could kick it up a notch. That’s when I decided to add the equally ubiquitous green chilli, which is rich in Vitamin C, great for digestion – and very piquant!

Tahini, which is made of ground white sesame, and olive oil round out the Middle Eastern flavours. Fortunately, these are widely available at good supermarkets in India and other countries. I used some wonderful olive oil I picked up in Portugal recently, which will be featuring in my blog soon.

The day after I made this curry leaf and green chilli hummus at home, I went to Goa and to my delight, my good friend the designer Wendell Rodricks served the very same dish in his home! I squealed! The coincidence was just too thrilling, and I wanted to share my recipe immediately, so you too can serve it soon.

Curry Leaf & Green Chilli Hummus

(Yield: 1 bowl)

 

Ingredients

1¼ cups cooked/boiled chickpeas

3-4 garlic cloves

1 tablespoon tahini

2 tablespoons lemon juice

½ teaspoon salt

¼ cup olive oil

1 cup washed curry leaves

1 green chilli

Water

 

In a blender, add the curry leaves and green chilli with 2 tablespoons of water. Blend until you get a smooth paste. Keep aside.

Next, blend the soft cooked chickpeas along with garlic, tahini, salt, half the olive oil and lemon juice.  Blend well until the paste is smooth and looks creamy.

Now, add the blended curry leaf paste to the creamy chickpeas and whir once again until it all mixes well. Adjust the salt and lemon quantities to suit your taste.

If you feel it needs to be creamier, add more water or olive oil to the blend, until it achieves a dip-like consistency.

The curry leaf hummus is now ready to serve. You can have it the traditional way, with flatbreads, whether that’s the Middle Eastern pita or the North Indian naan. Or some healthy quinoa chips, for a wholesome snack. Crunchy vegetables like carrot or celery sticks, toasties, or rice crisps (to keep that South Indian sensibility) are also excellent accompaniments. With a mildly yet surprisingly flavourful curry leaf hummus like this – it’s the dip that’s the main dish, not the accompaniment!

And if you just can’t get enough of that flavour, why not try my curry leaf and raw mango cooler as well?

When my daughter was in school, I would send her off every day with a lunchbox that contained as much variety as possible. Whether it was noodles, pizza or something else, I always made her something delicious – but with a healthy twist. Her best friend, a girl from Andhra Pradesh, brought her mother’s spinach rice in her own lunchbox every day. And the girls would exchange lunchboxes. My daughter loved that traditional spinach rice, and her best friend couldn’t get enough of my cooking experiments! When I discovered what was going on, I simply started packing extra of whatever I sent her, so both girls could eat more of our homemade meals.

Recently, this friend visited us, and the girls sat with me and reminisced about the good old days of their childhoods. Soon, they got to talking about the lunchbox swaps, and my daughter was nostalgic, saying how much she missed that spinach rice. As it is made of affordable and readily available ingredients, some variation of spinach rice is a staple in households all over the country. “Spinach” is an entire category of leafy greens. In South India, there are so many kinds available that certain dishes are matched according to the tastes of each. For instance, in Tamil Nadu, the thick small leaves of paruppu keerai (literally “dhal spinach”) go with dhal, the smaller leaves of siri keerai (“little spinach”) taste good with garlic, and are usually stir-fried with the same, and so on. What is known as dill rice in the West is also a kind of spinach rice here.

Spinach, as the cartoon character Popeye popularised, is great for developing a strong and healthy body. It is a muscle-builder, and packed with vitamins, calcium, antioxidants and other nourishing elements. It’s also collagen-rich, which means your skin and hair benefit from it. It is typically the kind of leafy green that kids resist eating, as some kinds are bitter, which is why I was so happy to find out about my daughter’s lunchbox exchanges long ago!

In my previous post, I mentioned a nifty slicer I picked up on my travels, and while these modern conveniences are much enjoyed, I still trust and hold on to our time-honoured appliances. For instance, I have the traditional Tamil aruvamanai, a hooked grater meant to be used while seated on the floor. The lovely thing about such devices is that they are durable in a way that modern devices, especially plastic ones, just aren’t. While this is mostly part of the décor, I’m not averse to using it when I want to. What better way to recreate a nostalgic dish than by using an antique appliance? I pulled out the old aruvamanai and sliced the spinach leaves for this recipe with it…

 

Spinach Rice

(Yield: 4-5 cups)

Ingredients
1 tomato
1 onion
2 cups spinach leaves
¾ cups raw rice
2 tablespoon mung dal
1 tooth garlic
1 green chilli
¼ teaspoon turmeric
¼ teaspoon cumin seeds
¼ teaspoon mustard seeds
1 tablespoon oil
Salt to taste

In a pressure cooker, add the spinach leaves, mung dal, onion, tomato, turmeric, chili, garlic, salt and 3 cups of water. Allow to cook for 2 whistles. In case you do not want to use a pressure cooker, you may cook the same ingredients covered with a lid on a medium flame, until well-cooked and soft to the touch.

Meanwhile, wash and soak the rice in water.

In a pan, add oil, then the cumin seeds and mustard seeds. Once they splutter, add the washed raw rice.

Now, open the cooled pressure cooker. Add the washed and soaked rice to the spinach and allow them all to cook for two more whistles. The spinach rice is now ready.

Serve hot – or in a lunchbox, for your growing children, who may surprise you with their tastes!

The Telugu cuisine of Andhra Pradesh and Telangana is known for being spicy, and the spinach rice recipe above, generously shared by my daughter’s friend’s mother, is no different. My daughter says that it tastes just like she remembered it from school. It’s in the original style, of course, but I must take credit for the most special ingredient – her mother’s love!

 

For someone who grew up disliking bananas, I’ve simply not been able to get enough of them this month! I hope you enjoyed my previous recipe for banana bread. There’s been a windfall of plantains on my farm, and so the fruit has found its way into several more dishes I’ve made lately. The recipe I’m sharing today adds a bit of crispiness to my traditional lunch thaalis. It’s so easy to make, and so difficult to resist. I really have gone bananas for these banana chips!

These chips don’t use the ripe bananas that we peel and eat when in need of a portable snack. Instead, they use unripe green plantains of the Monthan variety, which fruit in the 8th or 9th month after planting. They are not sweet, unlike ripe ones, but are edible both raw and cooked. Rich in potassium, iron and several vitamins, they are used in cuisines in Polynesia, Jamaica, and here in India of course. The banana tree itself is considered sacred in Hinduism, and is worshipped in some sects and used in wedding ceremonies. Not only the fruit but the flower too can be consumed, and food is traditionally eaten on a banana leaf itself.

I have a new gadget in my kitchen that I picked up on one of my travels – a nifty slicer that lets me quickly slice the banana directly over hot oil, so I was quite excited to use it when my sister taught me how easy these chips are to make.

Banana chips are made all over India, but they differ from state to state. The famous Kerala ones, for instance, are cut thicker and are bright yellow. These Gujarati-style ones are thin and reddish-coloured because of the spices used. They are called “kudkudiyas” – a bit of onomatopoeia, because of the “kud kud” crunch sound. They remind me of all my visits to Ahmedabad, and in fact my husband (aka The Dark Prince!) is so partial to them that I order them for him all the way from that city. Fortunately, everyone at home loves my banana chips too, so they can now have them fresh and not imported!

Gujarati-Style Banana Chips

(Yield: Approximately 1 bowl)

Ingredients

1 large raw plantain

Salt to taste

¼ teaspoon chili powder (or to taste)

¼ teaspoon powdered sugar

2 cups oil (for deep frying)

Heat the oil in a frying pan. Peel the plantain and wash it. Be watchful as it may be a bit sticky to the touch.

Slice the plantain and immediately drop the slices into the hot oil. If you use a gadget like I do, you can slice them directly over the pan.

Now reduce the flame to medium. Turn the slices around a few times until they turn golden.

Remove them from the oil, placing them onto an absorbent paper. Immediately sprinkle the salt, chili powder and sugar. Make them your way by adding spices of your choice, such as pepper or chaat masala. The trick is to add the spices as soon as they’re off the oil because this is the only way the spices will stick to the chips. Also remember that the thinner the slice, the crispier and tastier they’ll be. Store in an air tight jar. Enjoy the crunch!

 

This exact same recipe can also be used for sweet potato chips, if you prefer them to green bananas or find them more readily available.

I prefer using these homemade banana chips instead of any store-bought snack to add crispiness to our lunch thaalis at home. They are cleaner and healthier, and I know exactly what’s going into our mouths, so I don’t mind that they are deep fried.

Even though these banana chips are made in a popular and easy style, you will surely agree that every dish tastes different depending on the cook. Each home and each hand has its own flavour, despite the recipe being exactly the same. Even something as simple as banana chips will have a unique taste. When you try this recipe, be sure to let me know how yours tastes!

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!

Come summer, every family in India uses the mango in their daily cooking. It can be found in literally every dish: dals, sabzis (cooked with vegetables), pickles, curries, desserts and more. Everybody wants to get creative with the mango, and why not? With 1,500 varieties said to grow in the country, each one sweeter than the other, we are rightly proud of the fruit and look forward to the season eagerly. The different varieties have such beautiful names too: the neelam in Gujarat, the alphonso in Maharashtra and the nectar-sweet imam pasand of South India are but some. While we are unfortunate to not have the pleasure of berries here, the mango more than makes up for it.

Mangoes are popular globally, though they originated in the Indian subcontinent, and are cultivated everywhere from Andalusia to the Caribbean. They are the national fruit of three countries (India, Pakistan and the Philippines) and the national tree of Bangladesh. I have yet to meet a single person who doesn’t like mangoes!

Even if it wasn’t my national fruit, I would consider it a star among fruits. And it’s the star of a recipe my family has been simply loving this summer: mango rasam. Rasam is a thin, spicy South Indian soup which is usually eaten with rice or consumed as a beverage. This mango rasam is a seasonal staple, and is similar to the fajeto, which is also a staple in the typical Gujarati thaali in summers. A summer thaali comprises of layered rotli, a vegetable, dal, buttermilk, aamras or mango pulp in a bowl, raw mango pickle and fajeto. You’ll notice that half the plate is filled with mango in some form! After such a big fat meal, a siesta is also a part of the traditional lunch!

As you may know, I am all about growing my own produce, and this season I am happy to say I’ve been plucking mangoes in my own backyard. You really have to nurture your garden with love and care, and I am a big believer in spending time there, talking to the plants. They do respond, as I have seen for myself. I have learned how to tend to two variants, the killimooku, so named because it is shaped like a parrot’s beak, and the sindura, which is so sweet it is also known as the honey mango. Looking after these trees is an ongoing process. A few months ago, I used a neem spray to prep them for the harvest season, and learned from an organic farmer how to dig a pit a few feet away from the main trunk and fill it with mulch. Dried leaves, coconut husk, a little soil and other compost ingredients decay into fertiliser, giving the tree nourishment. These methods have really worked, as the bounty of fruit from my garden have proved. I knew a couple of months ago when I saw the young, tender leaves come out that the harvest this year would be good. And so it is.

I was making aamras when the idea for mango rasam came to me. As I squeezed the mango pulp and put the seeds in water, I recalled how my mother – who taught me how to never waste food – uses this water to make fajeto. I decided to make it the South Indian way, with garlic and curry leaves. These are not used in the Gujarati version, which utilises yoghurt.

 

Ripe Mango Rasam

(Yield: 3-4 cups)

Ingredients
Rasam

½ cup ripe mango pulp

½ cup cooked, boiled and mashed toor dal

2 cups water

1 crushed tomato

2 teaspoons cumin seeds

1 teaspoon black pepper

2 dried red chilies

4 cloves garlic

¼ inch piece of ginger

1 tablespoon tamarind pulp

Salt to taste

Sauté
1 teaspoon oil

¼ teaspoon mustard seeds

A few curry leaves

A pinch of asafoetida

 

In a pot, mix and stir the mango pulp and dal. I have used the alphonso variant, but you can use any ripe mango. Add the water.  Now add the salt, turmeric, asafoetida, crushed tomato and tamarind pulp.

Crush the cumin, ginger, garlic and black pepper coarsely together. Now add this to the mango pulp mix. Place on the stove and allow to boil for approximately 10 minutes. Do not allow it to over-boil – take it off the stove a minute after it starts to bubble.

Separately, heat the oil. Once it’s hot, add the mustard seeds. When they splutter, add the curry leaves. Finally, pour this sauté into the pot of boiled rasam. Serve hot with rotlis or rice.

Look at that colour – simply irresistible. Every time I set up a photoshoot, I am dying to finish it so that I can eat whatever I’ve been shooting! All the more so when it’s something that should be eaten hot, like this rasam. There’s a particular joy in the question of whether to eat a little, then shoot, or shoot first and eat later. As I was pouring this vibrant, fragrant rasam into the vessel and styling it for my shoot, I decided I would wait. This time, anyway!

 

I must have yoghurt with every single meal – a meal is never complete without it, and I am never full! I have tried over the years to go vegan and all that jazz but my love for yoghurt makes this impossible. I can give up milk, but yoghurt? Never. In fact, I loved it so much as a child that my mother had to ration it – she restricted me to a single cup per meal. But how I loved that one cup!

In South India, we take our yoghurt seriously. It has to be perfect – it should not be too sour, it should not have a thin film on top, and it should be smooth not broken. This is how it must be served at the table – and you can be assured that it is served at every table.

I have a friend in Barcelona who visits me each year and takes back a little bit of the yoghurt culture as a starter to make her own. The temperature, quantity of culture and the quality of the milk are very important. Yet, somehow, yoghurt is also very simple to make, which is why it is made in households every single day without fail. I wish sourdough was as easy to make. If you follow me on Instagram, you’d have seen my attempts and adventures at sourdough on my Instastories!

Traditionally, in my home, we set the yoghurt in an earthenware or stoneware pot. I set it both in the mornings and in the evenings, so that we have it fresh at both lunch and dinner. Yoghurt usually sours within a day, so it is one of the ingredients that is often used in leftover-based dishes. Refrigeration can prolong this slightly.

It sets faster in the summers, within 5 to 6 hours. In cooler months, if you set it just before bed, you will certainly be able to have it first thing in the morning. But be warned that these standards are for my climate, here in India. When I visited my son in New York last winter, he had a craving for homemade yoghurt. In the depths of icy November, it took two whole days to set!

So many of my summer stories revolve around my grandparents’ home in Vijayawada. If you went down memory lane with me and my aunt’s rose sherbet or their vetiver-scented curtains which inspired my chia pudding, here is one more from my childhood memories to enjoy: spiced buttermilk. It is a flavour I remember from those summers with my cousins, when we would each be given 25 paisa to go buy ourselves a treat. Someone would get soda, someone would get raw mango slices… My favourite was guava, but buttermilk was what we were always encouraged to have, for its health benefits. What I’ll share with you today is my friend Anandhi’s recipe, made with her guidance. Its core ingredient is homemade yoghurt.

Both yoghurt and buttermilk are great for digestion, and have a cooling effect on the body, which is why they are summer essentials. If you love your dairy like I do – with apologies to my vegan and lactose-intolerant friends! – you’ll absolutely love being able to switch from store-bought yoghurt. After a while, setting it becomes a habit, and it’s always so delicious when it’s fresh.

 

Spiced Buttermilk

(Yield: Approximately 5 glasses)

 

Ingredients

1 cup yoghurt

1 teaspoon roasted cumin powder

1 teaspoon grated ginger

1 tablespoon finely chopped coriander leaves

1 finely chopped green chilli

Salt to taste

3 cups water

A dash of lemon

1 pinch asafoetida (optional)

In a blender, add all the ingredients, except the water, and whir until everything is well blended. Now add the 3 cups of water. You can adjust the consistency by increasing or reducing the quantity of water to your preference. The dash of lemon gives you a little spring of energy, and the spices add such delicious flavours to the drink. Serve immediately.

Known for its probiotic properties, buttermilk acts as a coolant in the summer months, especially when eating heat-inducing mangoes is a full time pleasure!

 

 

Homemade Yoghurt

As I said earlier, setting yoghurt is both very delicate and very easy. To set the yoghurt, the temperature of the room, the temperature of the milk and the quantity of the starter are all very important in order for the yoghurt to be plain and not sour.

In India, where summers are very hot, I add a ¼ teaspoon of starter yoghurt to a bowl and pour room temperature milk into it. I then cover it with a lid and set it aside for 5-6 hours. Do the same if you are working in a similar climate. After the stated time, open the lid and see that the milk is set and rather tight when moved a little. Now refrigerate. Serve whenever you please.

During the winters, warm the milk and increase the quantity of the starter to ½ or even 1 teaspoon. Cover, and keep in a warm place for 10-12 hours or until set.

I am not a fan of sour yoghurt so refrigerating it once set is key, so it stays fresh for longer.

I’d much rather make my own yoghurt at home, where I know what exactly goes into it, as I’m always cautious about my food as far as possible.

This is the yoghurt I use when making buttermilk, as well as my regular accompaniment to my major meals. Yoghurt with rice, yoghurt with rotli, and of course, yoghurt with re:store’s bestselling muesli. It goes so well with everything, in my opinion!

I’d love to hear in the comments about how you’re keeping cool this summer!

I’m always trying to do something new with millets and bring them into everyday dining because they are healthy, seasonal and affordable. In South India, they were actually the ancient traditional staple, not rice or wheat as it is today, and so they can be said to be perfect for Macrobiotic diets here. Different varieties of local millets have featured on this blog in recipes past (I’ve linked to a few at the end of this post). Today, the star is ragi, which you may also know as finger millet, teff or kezhvaragu.

Ragi is rich in calcium, iron and antioxidants, as well as high in fibre. This means that its benefits include everything from weight control to skin rejuvenation to curing anaemia. A dry-season crop that tolerates many different kinds of soil, it is easy to cultivate. It features in a large variety of South Indian dishes, from Kerala puttu to Karnataka ragi mudde to the koozh that is offered to the Goddess in Tamil Nadu. It is also eaten everywhere from Vietnam to numerous countries in Africa, where it originated.

I want to share with you the recipe for ragi millet dosa. Dosa is a South Indian crepe, similar to chilla. It is popularly made with rice flour, which I substitute almost entirely with ragi millet. It’s always exciting to add your own twist to something traditional. That’s the challenge of cooking as well – you can’t just throw in something and hope it sticks. How do you combine flavours so they work well and complement one another? It may seem simple and obvious to take two South Indian staples – ragi millets and dosas – and put them together. But this is not so, because in the case of any millet dosa, it is not only a matter of ingredients. The main question is: will the crepe peel off beautifully? Ragi has a sticky consistency, which can make this tricky. As those of us who make dosas regularly know, certain ingredients are added or removed to facilitate this peeling. This is why I still use a little bit of rice flour in the batter. Rice flour both adds crispiness to the dosa, as well as enables it to peel off properly.

As I’ve mentioned in the past, I ensure that all my powders and flours are homemade, ground by a trusted small mill.  We grow both rice and ragi on our farm, so I know for sure that the ingredients in this dish, and any rice-based dishes eaten at home, are organic.

To come back to dosas and twists on the same – you can make your own variations of the dish below by adding vegetables to the crepe after it has been folded, or serving it with an assortment of chutneys. Here, I give you the recipe for a simple peanut chutney, which is a current favourite (peanuts are also grown on my farm). Ragi millet dosa is something I reach for often when I try to stay fit, and it’s always a satisfying meal.

Living in South India, dosa (or dosai) is something I’ve taken for granted. It really is a universally loved dish, as this story about my dog Coco will tell you. When she was pregnant years ago, she absolutely craved dosas! I would have one made especially for her every day, and she would simply refuse to eat it if it did not contain salt! My Coco is now sixteen years old and going strong, and the healthiest in my house since she eats fresh food every day. Now, her son Max also craves dosas, probably influenced by his mother’s taste during her pregnancy with him, and I always share mine with them both.

 

Ragi Millet Dosa

(Yield: 6 dosas)

Ingredients
½ cup ragi flour

1 tablespoon rice flour

1 teaspoon cumin

1 teaspoon paste of green chilli and ginger

1 tablespoon grated coconut

¾ cup water

1 tablespoon yoghurt

Finely chopped curry leaves

Finely chopped onions

Salt to taste

In a bowl, mix the ragi and rice flours in water until there are no lumps. Then add all the remaining ingredients. Stir until they all blend well together and become a smooth batter. Do not add too much water as this will make the batter too thin.

These dosas can either be prepared immediately, or the batter can be left to sit for about half an hour, letting the flavours blend more.

To fry a dosa is like frying any crepe. Add a few drops of oil on a heated iron griddle. Now lower the flame and pour 1 small cup of the batter onto the griddle, and spread it out in a circular motion until it is spread thin. Dot the edges with oil and increase the flame to high. Allow the dosa to turn dark on the edges, then flip over and allow to fry for a few minutes. Flip again once before you take it off the stove. Fold and serve with the peanut chutney, or a condiment of your choice.

 

Peanut Chutney

(Yield: 1 cup)

Ingredients

½ cup roasted peanuts

1 teaspoon channa dal

1 teaspoon udad dal

1½  teaspoons tamarind paste

1 teaspoon grated ginger

¼ cup water

2 red chilies

A sprig of curry leaves

A few drops of oil

Salt to taste

 


Sauté the dals in a few drops of oil. Once they turn golden, add the dals along with the peanuts and ginger in a blender. Blend until coarse.

Now, to temper the chutney. Put a few drops of oil in a pan and add the mustard seeds and cumin seeds. Wait till they splutter and then add the red chillies and curry leaves. When they have been coated in the hot oil, immediately pour the tempering over the chutney. It is now ready to be eaten as a dip with the crispy hot dosas.

I’m an evangelist when it comes to millets and truly believe in their ability to transform our unhealthy modern diets. This is why they have featured so many times on this blog. If you’re curious about more dishes that incorporate these simple and satisfying ingredients, do check out this tag and spend some time exploring my past recipes. Here are a few of my favourite selections from the same: little millet rice with beans poriyal, chakkara pongal and vegan chili.