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Recipe: A Bit Of Summer Cheer – Baked Yoghurt With Strawberry Compote

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As mentioned in my previous post, strawberry compote is a versatile topping that can be used on a wide range of desserts. After sharing the recipe for it, I was debating whether to prepare a cheesecake or a baked yoghurt using the same, as a suggestion for you in case you are exploring the compote’s usage too. I chose the latter. Summer is setting in in Chennai and a cooling yoghurt-based dish rather than a rich and heavy cheesecake just made sense. This baked yoghurt with strawberry compote, using seasonal strawberries, is ideal for the climate in every way.

We have recently had a number of celebrations in the family, and to be honest, given the quantity of sweet treats we have all been consuming, I have also begun to veer towards lighter desserts now.

Strawberries remain in season, and I want to make the most of them before we move towards mangoes. Already, I can see small fruits on my own trees as well as those around the city. The days are becoming longer and the heat is steadily rising. I have a feeling the mango harvests will be good this year, and look forward to them. But meanwhile, right now, strawberries continue to have my heart. Pairing them with yoghurt – an item that I relish perennially – makes for even more pleasure.

As I’ve mentioned in various posts, dairy products in general are considered sacred in Hindu traditions and used in rituals. Any form of dairy is enjoyed across India in general, as well. Come mango season, for example, a lot of buttermilk is going to be consumed across the country, as the coolant is used to counteract the heatiness of the fruit, as per Ayurvedic practices.

Yoghurt in particular is my personal favourite among the various dairy products, and the reason why I have not been able to go vegan even during periods when I have tried to adapt my diet as much as possible to those principles. I prepare it at home, and I have shared the method earlier too.

Yoghurt by itself is enough for me, but elevating this quintessential Indian component into a dessert that to me has both Continental and subcontinental influences was a very intriguing idea. I first enjoyed baked yoghurt at a popular café in Chennai. It was moist, soft and had just a hint of sweetness. The subtlety of the sweetness was what I found most attractive. Gujarati shrikhand and Bengali bhappa doi are similar in texture, but usually made much sweeter. To me the bhappa doi is one of the inspirations for my baked yoghurt. I don’t know much about the culture and cuisine, but my research also suggests that the two dishes are connected. Baking is not traditionally Indian, but I would venture a guess that baked yoghurt dishes on Indian menus may have evolved from bhappa doi.

While I grew up with shrikhand, on the other hand, I would have to say that I have come to prefer baked yoghurt to it. The minimal use of sugar is what creates the distinct advantage, in my view. Furthermore, by preparing strawberry compote or other toppings at home, I also get to control the sugar quantity for all aspects of the dish. If your strawberries are naturally sweet enough, you may not even have to add sugar to the compote at all.

That said, this baked yoghurt can be paired with a variety of other toppings too. Rose jam, mango purée or salted caramel are some wonderful options. The base itself is very versatile that way.

I began making baked yoghurt at home only recently, so I’m also excited about trying out new varieties. They are perfect for when you are entertaining guests, which is why I have suggested making them in individual portions below. Alternately, you can also prepare it in a large glass dish and spoon out the required portions.

Baked Yoghurt With Strawberry Compote
(Yield: 5-6 ramekins)

250 grams yoghurt
200 grams condensed milk (or less, if you prefer)
50 grams cream
½ teaspoon vanilla extract
1 tablespoon rose water

Prepare a bain-marie by pouring water into a wide tray and placing it into the oven. Make sure that it has a tall lips or sides. You may want to check that the water will reach midway to the ramekins you will use. Preheat the oven to 160°C for 20 minutes.

Meanwhile, in a bowl, add all the ingredients gently one by one.

Using a whisk, gently bring them all together until there are no lumps. Pour the prepared mixture into the ramekins equally. You will get 5 or 6 portions depending on their size.

Place the ramekins into the bain-marie, after checking that the water is hot, and bake. This should take approximately 15 minutes, depending on your oven. Bake only until the centre looks jiggly.

Remove the ramekins from both the oven and the tray. Allow the baked yoghurt to cool completely and then refrigerate.

Serve chilled, with a spoonful of strawberry compote or any other topping of your choice.

If you’d like to enjoy more strawberries or more yoghurt this summer, I have a selection of recipes on this blog that feature either ingredient. Don’t forget that the former will soon be out of season, but as I said earlier, here in the Indian subcontinent we have something equally or perhaps even more wonderful to look forward to: mangoes! I am still thinking up some recipes that will highlight this them year, but in the meanwhile, I hope you’ll explore my archives.

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Recipe: Sweetening The Summer – Strawberry Compote

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My husband’s most favourite dessert of all time is, hands down, strawberry compote. To be fair, a compote is not the dessert itself, only its special enhancement, but for him it can be the best part. Every time we travel to certain parts of the world, he looks for sweet treats that contain it. I decided that it was about time that I start preparing it at home too, and my trials turned out beautifully – and so, I believe, will yours.

While my spouse reaches out eagerly for interesting dishes while travelling, as for me I am often more interested in the process of how an item is prepared than in only consuming it. As a baker, I am very interested in what other people bake, and love exploring small local bakeries. These tend to be excellent, and I chat with the owner or the workers and taste the pastry they are most known for. Obviously, the bakers will never reveal their secrets, but I have a sensitive palate and can often deduce certain tricks and techniques that I then experiment with once I am back home. I like to figure out what ingredients may have been used, and what has made a treat particularly moist or rich, for instance. Of course, when one is in a holiday mood everything always feels just perfect and lovely. But I believe we can keep some of that good mood going by revisiting those memories through food we recreate back home.

I’ve eaten a great deal of strawberries because of my husband’s love for them, sharing so many treats that contain either a compote or the fresh fruit with him. While I can’t recall the first time I tasted compote, I certainly can tell you when the first time that I saw wild strawberries in a dessert was. It was during a trip to Rome a long time ago. We noticed strawberries and cream on the menu. Naturally, we ordered it. The wild strawberries were in season – fresh, small in size and simply bursting with flavour. This particular dessert became something that I would specifically request at certain cafés after this.

It can feel like strawberries are almost universal, because they seem to be available everywhere. However, that’s just a perception I have now, versus how it felt before. Strawberries were once considered an exotic fruit in India, at least while I was growing up. They were hard to grow and scarce in the market. I remember seeing them in photographs and wondering what they tasted like. Soon enough, hill stations and towns with conducive climates began to cultivate them in India too. Humans are resourceful that way, no? If the conditions are right, we can find a way to grow anything.

Back then, Bombay always had access to fancy fruits first, and set trends thereafter. My sister, a resident of that city, used to make a simple two-ingredient strawberry jam and send it to me, or hand-carry it on flights for me. I would use it as a compote over ice cream and desserts.

We now get strawberry harvests of very good quality here in Tamil Nadu as well. However, I still strongly feel that the best experience depends on the season, even if produce is available year-round. For instance, let’s take a less glamorous fruit: the watermelon, which has been a staple local produce for as long as I can remember. While I can procure it even during the monsoons, I do not. I know that it tastes best and offers the most benefits only during the summer, and that’s when I consume it.

Coming back to strawberries and to this compote, this is a very easy recipe and it will give you a jar of delight that you can use to add sweetness to anything. You can use either sugar or honey to prepare it, and the best part of it being homemade is that you can control the amount you use. I prefer mine lightly sweetened with a larger ratio of fruit to sugar, so that I can enjoy bigger portions with less guilt. This is one of the reasons why I prefer to make jams and spreads at home in general, or get mine from friends who do so. The amount of sugar and preservatives that goes into those big tubs and jars in supermarkets concerns me.

Trust me, once you try this out, you’ll see that I have many reasons to make my own jams, spreads and compote! This strawberry compote is easy to make, versatile and just so delicious. It’s difficult, and unnecessary in my view, to go back to storebought items when the goodies made at home are so wonderful!

Strawberry Compote
(Yield: 2 cups / 1 jar)

2 cups chopped strawberries
4 tablespoons sugar or honey (adjust as per need)
1 tablespoon lemon juice
A pinch of salt
1 teaspoon chia seeds
5 tablespoons water
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

In a pan, add the strawberries. Add sugar/honey and water and boil until the fruit begins to disintegrate and the mixture begins to thicken. At this stage, you can add more sugar/honey if required.

Now, add the chia seeds. Remove the pan from the flame and allow the mixture to cool and thicken more as it does.

Once it has cooled down completely, fill a jar and store in the refrigerator. You can keep this refrigerated for 2-3 weeks. It makes for a great topping on toast, ice cream and cheesecake. You can even make ice cream with it or add a dollop to yoghurt. In case you’re in need of ideas, the next recipe I will share will be a dessert that uses this strawberry compote, so do keep an eye out for it!

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Recipe: A Tasty, Tangy Dal – Tomato Pappu

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On our first wedding anniversary, decades ago now, my husband and I went out to dinner with our entire family. We went to a lovely fine dining restaurant in Chennai which serves South Indian fare. It was during this evening that I tasted tomato pappu for the first time. I relished it. While I have eaten it numerous times since, over the years – although not very frequently, because this is still a place that we save for special occasions – it took a long while before it occurred to me to try replicating it at home, which I did only recently. It surprised me to learn that at its heart tomato pappu is a very simple dish, using everyday ingredients and requiring a familiar preparation style. I’m glad to be able to share it with you too.

Tomato pappu is essentially a dal which has equal quantities of tomatoes and lentils. It originated in Andhra Pradesh. Telugu cuisine is not one I know much about, but I am eager to learn more, and I think this dish is a good place to start.

Interestingly enough, while I have lived in Tamil Nadu all my life, my mother had grown up in Vijayawada, in Andhra Pradesh. But when I first took her for a meal at this restaurant and ordered tomato pappu, it turned out to be her first exposure to it. While she spoke the language and knew the culture well, she had also been brought up in a very traditional Gujarati household and it was clear that Telugu food itself was a bit unfamiliar to her. It was lovely to introduce her to a dish from the region she grew up in. She had a curious mind that I inherited, and I remember her saying, “We should learn how to make this too.” Like me, she had absolutely loved it.

I went back to that restaurant recently, and only then did I decide to make good on my mother’s suggestion and finally learn to prepare tomato pappu. Although my dear mother is no longer around to enjoy it with me, the dish is imbued with so many memories over the years of celebratory meals with loved ones. Now that I have begun to make it at home, we will no doubt savour it more often, and it will come to be a part of even more of our experiences together.

As I sit here and write this post, my curious side emerges yet again, and I wonder whether the tomatoes can be replaced with some other vegetable. This is what I do all the time at home and for the re:store blog – innovating existing recipes while also exploring traditional ones. I’m thinking that carrots or perhaps spinach would be good substitutes. Both will certainly be healthy and tasty. I’ll keep you posted about how my experiments go, as always.

That’s the thing about cooking: one can get so very creative in the kitchen. Once you have mastered the basics, you can use your intuition and expand your repertoire. It’s all about having a sense of which ingredient might work, which flavour, what goes well with something or really doesn’t. For instance, I would not attempt a capsicum pappu as I am dubious about if that might work. At the same time, I’ve been marvellously surprised by dishes I’ve tasted around the world that bring seemingly incongruous elements together. The challenge is finding out what is complementary, through trial and error. Sometimes, though, you just know something will work, and it does.

When I think back to how I didn’t know anything about this delicious tomato pappu when I first tasted it, and couldn’t even identify its ingredients beyond tomatoes, I can see what a long way I have come in my culinary life. Now, this dish is no longer something I eat only at restaurants. It’s become something even better: a part of my regular meals.

Tomato Pappu
(Yield: Serves 2-4)

½ cup toor dal
2 cups water
2 medium-sized tomatoes
3 cloves garlic
A handful of curry leaves
Pulp from a lime-sized ball of tamarind
Salt to taste
½ teaspoon turmeric
1 teaspoon red chili powder
2 green chillies
1 tsp grated ginger
½ teaspoon asafoetida
2 teaspoons oil

Tempering
1 tablespoon ghee
1 teaspoon mustard seeds
1 teaspoon cumin seeds
¼ teaspoon asafoetida
1 dry red chili

Rinse and clean the dal. Add the dal to water and turmeric powder and pressure cook until tender. Set aside.

Heat a kadai. Add the oil. To this, add ginger, garlic, curry leaves, asafoetida, turmeric powder and salt. Sauté for a few minutes. Next, add the tamarind pulp. Allow to cook a little and then add the tomatoes.

Sauté until the tomatoes are tender. Mash it all well together.

Now, add the dal mixture and give it a good stir. Allow to cook a little. Set aside.

Prepare the tempering by adding ghee to a heated kadai, then adding all the remaining ingredients. Once the seeds splutter, add the tempering to the dal mixture.

Serve this tomato pappu hot, with rice. I also find that it pairs nicely with dosa or idiappam. If you’re a fan of dals or of South Indian cuisines more broadly, there are many more recipes on this blog for you to enjoy!

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Recipe: Currying Flavour – Curry Leaf Podi

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Even though I grew up in Chennai and have enjoyed the regional cuisine throughout my life, when it comes to podis or condiment powders, I didn’t quite understand the nuances of the food type until I was older and began to really consider the technicalities of the art of cooking. I did not know, for instance, that idli podi is different from molagai podi (the recipe for which I shared with you recently), or that curry leaf podi is different from both of these. There are many other varieties too, of course, and each kind has particular uses.

As a child, at friends’ homes and at wedding celebrations, I would consume podis but didn’t really notice what kind was served. At most, I would wonder why a little spoonful of powder would be on one side of the banana leaf, and I would taste it but I would not necessarily think beyond that. By now of course, my awareness has deepened, and so has my expertise in preparation. I’m glad to share this curry leaf podi recipe with you, and I hope you’ll be able to discern its uniqueness too.

Curry leaf podi is usually enjoyed mixed into either gingelly oil or ghee and eaten as an accompaniment to hot rice, or else idly or dosa. It enhances the flavour of the main dish, and significantly cuts down on cooking time when one needs to eat in a hurry. It is the key to a very simple and fast meal that is still tasty. It also works beautifully when a meal contains a few more dishes, adding a touch of spice that elevates the plate (or the leaf) on the whole. Unlike pickles, which are very pungently flavoured, a podi is subtler while still packing a punch. The quantities consumed are more liberal as opposed to pickles, which is why blending into rice becomes possible. I also presume – or maybe I just imagine – that podis were traditionally used mostly in summertime when the curry leaf plant thrives and there is a dearth of vegetables, other than some water-based ones. Nature’s seasons and human resourcefulness both have deep impacts on how we eat, when we eat and how much we eat.

I have shared about the goodness of curry leaves before, along with some photos of the flowering shrub. You may have also noticed lush stems of it in many of my photographs across this blog. That is because whenever I want to incorporate a natural element into a frame, I often step into the garden and pluck some for my photoshoot. Here, we often take it for granted as it grows in many backyards. It is used across South Indian cuisines, and is truly one of the most delicious herbs in this part of the country. It imparts any dish it is used in with a distinct flavour. More often than not, most of us pick out the curry leaves and abandon them on the side of the plate, since the flavour has already been steeped into the dish, but this is a waste. The leaves have a nice taste themselves, and moreover are rich with antioxidants.

If you ever visit me at home, you may find me adding curry leaves to a Gujarati dal perhaps – but that is only because of my exposure, for it is hardly used in my ancestral cooking, if at all. It doesn’t grow there, but as I often say, I grew up right here – like this plant! Of course, my fusion experiments go beyond these two cultures, such as in the making of this curry leaf hummus. Here, however, I offer a condiment that is as authentic as possible.

Curry Leaf Podi
(Yield: Approximately 1½ cups)

1 tablespoon urad dal
1 tablespoon channa dal
1 teaspoon cumin seeds
1 teaspoon sesame seeds
1 cup fresh curry leaves
3-5 red dried red chilies
1 tablespoon desiccated coconut
½ teaspoon asafoetida
1 tablespoon oil
Salt to taste

Rinse and wash the curry leaves well. Then, pat them dry in a cloth. Lay them out in the sun to dry. In summer, they will dry up in a day. Alternatively, you could place them in the oven on a low temperature and allow them to dehydrate until they are crisp to the touch.

When ready to prepare the curry leaf podi, add the oil in a pan. Dry roast the urad dal, channa dal, sesame seeds, dried red chillies and cumin seeds until the ingredients are golden. Finally, add the desiccated coconut and asafoetida. Allow all these to roast all together for a short time.

In a blender jar, add all the roasted ingredients along with the dried curry leaves and salt. Blend until you get a coarse powder.

Store in an airtight jar. Serve with rice, idly and dosa, or experiment with using this condiment in your own versatile ways. I would eat it with rotis and theplas too, for instance. I have shared various other condiment recipes in the past – not just powders, but pickles and more too – and I hope you’ll explore my archives and find other interesting ways to liven up your enjoyment of a meal too.

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Recipe: More Flavour, More Punch – Molagai Podi

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“Podi” means “powder” in Tamil and the word is used for a variety of dry condiments. One highly versatile one is molagai podi, the primary ingredient of which is the red chilli. It is an accompaniment that is typically served with idli or dosa. It is mixed with ghee or gingelly oil into a thick paste that resembles a chutney’s consistency, and eaten with these main dishes. I also like to sprinkle molagai podi on potatoes or other dishes to enhance their taste. It can be used in plenty of ways – once you make a batch, you’ll find yourself reaching for it quite a lot.

Nowadays, I also notice restaurants serving podi idli or podi dosa, with the powder dusted on top rather than on the side. It reminds me of the tiffin boxes carried by my friends when we were back in school, when their moms would sprinkle the powder on top of the dosa for a little flavour, so as to maintain a dry lunchbox. I would send my kids off to school with mini idlis served like this myself, with the spice quotient adjusted for their intake, and with the knowledge that the cute size of the idlis would hold their attention well. Of course, when one has the option to eat at home and at leisure, convenience is not the main factor, and ghee and oil can be used to enhance the taste.

The dosa itself has so many variants served in just about any restaurant now, and while I understand the novelty factor, I lean a bit more traditional and stick to the plain dosa with the basic chutneys, podis and sambar that I grew up with. That said, when I am entertaining at home – especially when I have Gujarati relatives coming here and I want to show off the local cuisine – I prefer to serve a wider variety of condiments. I will include this molagai podi, of course, but will perhaps add a curry leaf podi. That is usually eaten with rice but I feel it goes well with dosas too. That’s the next recipe I will share on this blog, so do keep an eye out for it.

Of course, the easiest of all methods is to just buy readymade podis. There are excellent ones out there and I myself have bought them when lazy or in a hurry. Still, I remain a stickler about finding out what goes into each dish I serve and I enjoy doing things myself, especially in the kitchen.

Not long ago, I decided to try making my own molagai podi too, with the help of my friend Anandi. She is an expert in Tamil cuisine and my go-to person for any recipes I want to learn to make authentically. I give her a call, and she generously shares her mom’s recipes, techniques and tips.

My molagai podi usually came from Anandi’s home, but when I got it into my head that I wanted try making it too, she was only happy to help. This is not my first trial at molagai podi. I have made it a few times now, and it gets better with practice. The same will be true for all your cookery attempts, as they have been for all of mine.

Being in the region where the cuisine emerged and evolved in means that authenticity is possible, thanks to the right ingredients, climatic conditions and so on. As I’ve said at other times on this blog, fun matters most when cooking and eating, but there is also something special about perfecting a dish exactly as it has been made for generations. In order to retain that effect and that quality, one must also keep passing it along. My grown children have established their own homes and kitchens, and I am encouraging the notion of being aware of exactly what goes into their food. I hope my approach inspires them.

Now, let me also clarify that what we have here is an authentic variant of molagai podi. Different regions and communities will have their tweaks and renditions, and ultimately it still comes down to the person who makes the podi. Everyone has their own touch and their own style. Either way, you will get a spicy punch that you’ll love adding to your everyday meals!

Molagai Podi
(Yield: Approximately 1½ cups)

1 cup black urad dal
1 cup channa dal
2 tablespoons toor dal
1 teaspoon methi/fenugreek seeds
3-4 tablespoons sesame seeds
½ teaspoon asafoetida
50 dried red chillies
1 tablespoon gingelly oil

Roast the urad dal, toor dal and channa dal separately, until they get fragrant. Set them all aside.

Roast the sesame seeds and the methi seeds together. Set aside.

Now add the oil to the pan and add the dry red chillies. Finally, add the asafoetida. Once the chillies have roasted, remove from the pan.

Add all the ingredients in a blender and blend well.

Store in a jar and use as required. You’ll enjoy this versatile condiment in numerous ways, I’m sure. Don’t be afraid to venture beyond the traditional idli, dosa and rice uses – let it pep up any dish where you feel the spicy flavour would enhance the experience!

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Recipe: Of Temples And Travellers – Tamarind Rice

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I may sound like I am repeating myself, but what I am about to say (again) is just one of those basic facts about me: if you put a gun to my head and ask me to choose whether I like Gujarati cuisine or Tamil cuisine better, I would very quickly and quite happily admit that it’s the latter. Even though I am Gujarati, I grew up here in Chennai, and as much as I love the food of my culture, the food of my surroundings has my heart. Among the dishes I cherish most is tamarind rice, and I’ll tell you why.

South India has been described as the rice bowl of the country, and there are hundreds of varieties grown here, as I’ve discussed in the past. The different cuisines in the Southern states also lean heavily towards rice dishes, as well as those that use rice flour as a chief ingredient. As with all parts of India, traditional food is always thoughtfully designed to serve two objectives in particular: healthiness and seasonality. Certain items are prepared year-round, and I believe tamarind rice falls into this category.

That impression may have been formed of course by the fact that tamarind rice is the standard prasadam, or food served to the deities and then to devotees, across temples in South India. Perhaps that is because it is fast and easy to make, and because the tamarind acts like a preservative, allowing the dish to keep better as well as to travel a bit – which is great if someone wants to take some home after a pilgrimage.

Moreover, a selection of flavourful dishes is also always served on the side in elaborate banana leaf meals at special events like weddings. Coconut rice and lemon rice will be present as well, but it’s the tamarind rice that I always reach out for most eagerly.

Tamarind itself is an ingredient that’s important in this part of the world. Its English name comes from the Arabic term “tamr hindī”, or “date of India”, referencing its value as a trade item. While the tree is indigenous to Africa, it is so thoroughly naturalized on the Indian subcontinent that even its scientific name, Tamarindus indica, carries a nod to this region. Not only was the fruit coveted globally, but the tree has been valued here through time. I remember encountering many stories in books as a child in which tamarind trees were considered the trees of travellers. This was because they were planted alongside routes in order to provide shade and coolness. The canopy is huge and a person or small group can easily rest beneath one. There are still many tamarind trees around in Chennai today, though perhaps not as many as when I was growing up. I have fond memories of the ones that grew in my school’s compound. We would wait for strong breezes to blow the fruit off, to the ground, and race to collect them.

The raw, deseeded fruit can be soaked and used to flavour food, or else made into a chutney, which my mother would prepare quite often back then. She would also make tamarind rice, and let me be honest – as much as I am in awe of her culinary skills, I’ll be honest and say that it wasn’t her finest dish. It was sort of her own version, and I knew even back then that it wasn’t quite as tasty as the tamarind rice served in the temple near my grandparents’ house. Still, it was a start, and I appreciate that for a busy homemaker it would have been a simple dish to put together on days when she had less time to cook.

Nowadays, there are even easier ways of making tamarind rice. Readymade mixtures are sold in shops, almost in a pickle form, and mixing a dollop with cooked rice is all it takes. But I’ve always felt that there’s a special pleasure in making things from scratch. This particular recipe was taught to me by a sloka teacher I had a few years ago. After classes, she would come into my kitchen and teach me some authentic recipes, including this ginger chutney. She made a delicious tamarind rice paste, and the method she taught me is what goes into this preparation.

As for the rice used, I’ve gone ahead with the common ponni, which is a small-grained, boiled variety. This is easily accessible to me, and I suggest you choose one that is available wherever you are in the world. A short, stout rice works best to absorb the deep flavours of the paste and spices.

Tamarind Rice
(Yield: Serves 4)

2 cups cooked rice

Spice Powder
½ teaspoon methi/fenugreek seeds
2 teaspoons coriander seeds
2 teaspoons sesame seeds
6-8 dry red chilies
1 teaspoon whole black pepper

Tamarind paste
¼ cup sesame oil
1 teaspoon mustard seeds
2 teaspoons channa dal
½ teaspoon turmeric
3-4 dry red chilies
1 teaspoon urad dal
A handful of curry leaves
½ teaspoon asafoetida powder
¼ cup peanuts
Salt to taste
1 tablespoon jaggery
1 large lime-sized ball of tamarind
2 cups water

Dry roast each of the spice powder ingredients separately. Allow to cool and then powder them all together. Set aside. Soak the tamarind ball in warm water. Once soaked, squeeze and extract the pulp as much as possible. Discard the fibre.

Heat a pan and add the oil. Now, add the mustard seeds, chillies, channa dal and urad dal. Roast slightly and then add the asafoetida and curry leaves.

Add the tamarind pulp, salt and turmeric powder. Stir. Cover and allow to simmer until the raw smell of tamarind goes away. This will take approximately 10-15 minutes.

Remove from the flame and allow to cool.

To assemble the tamarind rice, put the 2 cups of cooked rice in a bowl. Add ¼ cup of the tamarind mixture. Using your hands, gently mix it well into the rice. Add 1 tablespoon of sesame oil to bring all the flavours together. Tamarind rice need not be eaten hot, and this is now ready to serve. Store the remaining tamarind mixture in a glass jar and refrigerate. I’d say it can be used for about a couple of weeks.

Rice is such a fixture in many homes in Asia and other parts of the world, and it can get a little boring. I have more recipes in the archives that may bring some novelty to your rice consumption, and I hope you’ll explore them.

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Recipe: More Protein, More Pep – Mexican-Style Eggs

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You may already know, if you’ve been a reader of this blog for some time, of my love of Mexican cuisine. I enjoy the authentic dishes so very much, and make my own fusion or Indianized versions, some recipes for which you’ll find at that link. My Mexican friends do tease me about my tweaks and substitutes, but we still sit together in my home when they visit and enjoy what I’ve prepared, even while laughing over it. Also, no matter what: when my older son visits, he insists on tacos, made by me, made my way. Over time, I have let go of any inhibitions I have had about inauthentic cooking and have learned to focus on the fun of it. That’s how these Mexican-style eggs came into being.

I really do feel that eggs make for brilliant breakfasts. I have shared some of these recipes in the past too, for instance: my version of the West Asian shakshouka and the protein-powerhouse moringa leaf omelette.

Shakshouka had been our customary Sunday brunch at home for quite a while, but it has become a bit boring for us lately. Our family is such that if we like one dish, we have it on repeat until we tire of it and need a break. That’s what happened with the shakshouka. I wanted to pep things up again, while retaining the protein quotient that the eggs bring. I also wanted to bring in flavours from a different part of the world and deepen them. That’s when I decided to experiment with Mexican seasonings. This recipe is kind of my own invention, and I make no claims about it being like any actual counterparts that may exist in Mexico! I know about a famous dish called huevos rancheros, of course, but I have not even tasted this – so far, that is. I look forward to doing so some day, and hope to visit that amazing country again.

There is a kind of chilli that imparts the particular flavours in this dish, as well as others in many of my experiments with this cuisine. It is the jalapeño, which appears here in three forms. One is the whole chili itself, chopped up. The other two are in the form of a seasoning that uses both chipotle, which is essentially a jalapeño that has been smoked and dried, as well as adobo pepper, which is when the smoked chipotle has been preserved in a spiced tomato-garlic purée. You can find all these online and in big supermarkets in India, where Mexican and Mexican-ish food is enjoyed by many. You may use canned kidney beans if that is your preference, but I like to soak our good old rajma. These are what go into what I call my Mexican eggs. They’re not quite Mexican, I know, but they come from a deep appreciation for the cuisine and its ingredients.

Coming to the eggs themselves, there’s something interesting about them too. We have a little plot of land adjoining my husband’s factory, and the women who work there have made it a special place on which a few vegetables are grown and some hens are raised too. These cluck around and make a nuisance, but they do produce great eggs. The credit is really to the workers who decided to utilize this space thoughtfully. They get to take the veggies and the eggs home for very nominal prices, and we do the same. I absolutely dislike store-bought eggs, more so since their initiative took off. I treat those eggs like gold, and knowing that they are fully organic, farm-to-table ones makes me really happy about feeding them to my family too.

We love having loud, noisy brunches on Sundays. During very pleasant weather such as what we have right now, we sit out in the garden and enjoy our food and our conversation, and these Mexican eggs make for a perfect meal. I like to make individual servings as the presentation is lovely, but you can also make a large amount on a big plate and share it.

Mexican Eggs
(Yield: Serves 1)

50 grams red kidney beans (cooked, with water)
2 teaspoons + 2 tablespoons olive oil
250 grams tomatoes (crushed, with 1 cup water)
1 teaspoon taco seasoning
1 tablespoon adobo-chipotle seasoning
2 eggs
Salt to taste
1 tablespoon jalapeños (finely chopped)
¼ cup onions (chopped)
¼ cup bell peppers (chopped)
¼ cup corn

Crush the kidney beans and set aside.

Heat a kadai. Add the olive oil and then add the crushed tomatoes with water. Stir and add salt, taco seasoning and adobo-chipotle seasoning. Stir well. Once it starts to cook, add the kidney beans and the water. Cook well and set aside.

In a flat pan, add 2 tablespoons of olive oil. Heat, then add the onions, bell peppers and corn. Stir well. Next add the seasoned kidney beans and tomatoes mixture. Mix and allow to cook without stirring for about 2 minutes.

Make a shallow well in the mixture and break the eggs directly into them. Sprinkle the eggs lightly with salt. Cover and allow to cook.

If you wish to, you could grate some cheese on top. I find that Manchego complements the flavours beautifully. With or without that garnishing, serve immediately. These delicious Mexican-inspired eggs are quite filling and sufficient for a full breakfast when paired with toast, and sourdough is especially recommended.

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Recipe: Something To Relish – South Indian Roast Potatoes

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When it comes to recipes, sometimes just having one of a certain dish isn’t enough. I have shared my own version of roast potatoes on this blog in the past, but lately I have felt inspired to start making them in the Tamil Nadu style more often. As someone born and brought up in Chennai, this dish is one that I have known and enjoyed all my life, as will anyone who loves a spicy accompaniment.

When I said I was feeling inspired, this was in part because one of my favourite pastimes is surfing the Internet for all things to do with food. I love looking up and reading about the subject, seeing what people out there are making, and watching videos not just on trends but also on classic dishes. They may or may not be authentic, but they are exciting just the same. I choose whichever I am interested in, tweak the recipes a bit based on my preferences, and they often turn out yummy. Through this blog, I am a part of that community too, and contribute to it. It feels special to know that we are all inspirations to one another, and to me this is true whether in the art world or in cooking or in writing or in so many other arenas. Online and offline, my passion for recipes – creating them, discovering them, and sharing them – is joy-bringing, I love being gifted or gifting nice cookbooks too. It has long been a dream of mine to publish one of my own, and this is the year in which that will come to fruition.

Coming back to the South Indian-style roast potatoes, let me just say at the outset that it’s okay to indulge in carbs and a little extra oil sometimes. I try not to do either too often, so when I do I choose my favourites and make sure I relish them. This dish is one I have become such a pro at that I even make the masala at home, powdering and keeping a fair quantity to use as needed. I have shared the recipe for that too, and recommend that you take a little extra time to prepare that too. You’ll taste and smell the difference it makes.

The aroma and flavour truly take me back to my school days, when many of my friends would bring curd rice in their tiffin boxes with roast potatoes on the side. The moment that lunch was unpacked was special: the fragrance of deep-fried, well-seasoned potatoes would rise. It would be irresistible. We loved sharing our lunches, as I’ve shared in earlier posts like this spinach rice recipe.

I will admit: carb-consciousness has made me like potatoes somewhat less now than I used to, or at least eat them less often. But as a child and a teenager, I simply adored them. So much so that when I first started learning how to cook, I told my mom that the first dish I would prepare on my own would feature this ingredient. I had also been inspired by my older brother. When our mom travelled, he would make my sister and I sit in the kitchen and watch as he prepared potato sabzi and roti for us. So at around age 14 or 15, under her supervision, I made a simple sautéed potato dish with barely anything but salt. Salt, heat and oil are all that’s really needed to make a potato taste good, anyhow.

Still, what a long way I have come since that basic fried potato dish! From nothing-but-salt to grinding my own spices, from the easiest way to the elaborate and the innovative. I continue to learn every day, and the journey goes on. I am so glad to have you along on mine, sharing recipes that make life more delicious.

South Indian Roast Potatoes
(Yield: Serves 2)

250 grams potatoes
Salt to taste
½ teaspoon turmeric powder
¼ tsp mustard seeds
½ teaspoon urad dal
¼ tsp cumin seeds
¼ tsp asafoetida
A few curry leaves
2-3 tablespoons oil
3-4 Kashmiri red chillies (whole)
2 tablespoons onions (finely chopped)

Spice powder
1 tsp urad dal
½ teaspoon methi seeds
½ teaspoon cumin seeds
1 teaspoon channa dal
1 teaspoon oil

Boil, peel and dice the potatoes. Set aside.

In a pan, begin to prepare the spice powder by adding the one teaspoon of oil. Once it has heated, add all the spice powder ingredients and roast until golden. Remove onto a plate and allow to cool. Now blend coarsely and keep ready.

In the same pan, add the 2 tablespoons of oil, and once heated add the mustard seeds, cumin seeds and urad dal. Once they turn golden and splutter, add the red chilies, curry leaves and asafoetida.

To this, add the onions first. Sauté and then add the potatoes and the freshly-made spice powder. Sprinkle with salt and turmeric powder. Mix this all together well. Allow to roast until it all comes together well and the potatoes are slightly golden at the bottom.

This dish works as a great accompaniment for dosas, rotis or any kind of rice dish. If you’d like to explore more potato dishes or more South Indian flavours, there’s more in the blog archives where this came from!

 

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Recipe: A Herbal Curd Curry – Methi Kadhi

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On the first Sunday of every month, through my childhood, my mother would make my siblings and I stand in a line and consume a very bitter Ayurvedic powder, which was mixed into a quarter glass of water for each of us. This was a non-negotiable, and we hated it, dreading those Sundays for that very reason. We were forced to drink it up because her claim was that it cleared the stomach of any bugs, infections or worms and contributed to overall good health. I don’t know exactly what was in that powder, which was from a brand that has now long become obsolete, but I presume it contained fenugreek leaves – known in Gujarati as methi – because of the taste, as well as its medicinal potency. It took many years, but eventually I realised my mother was right. I believe her now, and I use methi liberally in my cooking. It even makes its way into a yogurt-based curry known as kadhi. As a result, methi kadhi is both nutritious and tasty.

I have shared a kadhi recipe in the past, and this is a variation that, as mentioned, boosts the healthiness quotient. That recipe contained a few grains of methi, which I also add to various dals, whereas this one utilizes fresh leaves. Fenugreek is extremely beneficial in both seed and leaf form, and is considered by many to be a superfood. A herb that originated in the Mediterranean region, it has been cultivated in India for at least 3000 years and plays a major role in North Indian cuisines. It is known to lower blood sugar and cholesterol, improve digestion and fertility, support the immune system and even enhance skin and hair health.

I mentioned recently that I enjoyed sprouting microgreens as a kid, and methi was among the seeds I used. My sister would also grow hers separately, and we would compare notes. I don’t think we ended up consuming our homegrown herbs, but I do remember the pure joy of seeing the small shoots. Nowadays, I buy the fresh green leaves, but I prepare my own kasoori methi or dried fenugreek powder at home. It is methi season now, and the best place to prepare the powder is at my home in Ahmedabad. The combination of the winter sun and general climate there are ideal for this, whereas Chennai is more humid year-round. The leaves dry up in a day or two. I store them to use through the year, and I make enough for my homes as well as my children’s.

There are two varieties of methi that are generally available. There is one with small, thick leaves that doesn’t grow more than 6 inches, and a bigger, bushier variety. I prefer using the small one when I need fresh leaves, and the bigger one for powdering. While I feel the former is more potent in taste, the yield quantity I require for the powder is better achieved by using the latter.

Kadhis don’t appear on my dining table that frequently, because I prefer to serve dals and lentils daily instead as they contain more protein. In fact, I ate it much more frequently as a child as my father loved it and thus my mother would prepare it very regularly. I myself preferred it to dal back then, and enjoyed it when combined with a plain khichdi. This means that when I prepare any kind of kadhi now, I look forward to it all the more, since the dish was a childhood favourite that has become infrequent.

Methi Kadhi
(Yield: Serves 4)

1 cup yogurt
2 tablespoons besan (split brown chickpea flour)
1½ cups water
1½ cups methi (fenugreek leaves)
1 tablespoon ginger + green chilli paste
2 tablespoons oil
2 tablespoons ghee
Salt to taste
½ teaspoon jeera seeds (cumin)
1 cinnamon stick
2 cloves
½ teaspoon asafoetida

Take the yogurt in a bowl. Add the besan and water to it, and beat well until there are no lumps. Set aside.

Clean and finely chop the methi leaves. In a kadai, add the oil and once it has heated, add the methi leaves. Sauté until tender. Add the ginger+green chili paste.

To this, add the yoghurt and besan mixture. Add salt and cook until the raw flavour of the flour leaves and the mixture thickens. Stir continuously as it cooks, otherwise it will separate.

Now, prepare the tempering. In a frying pan, add the ghee. Once it has heated, add the jeera, cinnamon stick, cloves and asafoetida. Pour this over the kadhi.

Your methi kadhi is now ready to serve. As mentioned, it pairs perfectly with khichdi.

While there is an Indian belief that curd should be avoided at night and during winter, I would suggest that even if you follow that custom, the use of methi and besan in this kadhi provide a counterbalance. Don’t deprive yourself of this deliciousness, in any season! I may eat less of it now than I did growing up, but I certainly still do!

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Recipe: One To Bring The Year In With – Orange Cake

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As I have mentioned at various times on this blog, I do love the festive season. Diwali is an occasion I look forward to very much, but I also enjoy the December festivities, in particular Christmas. I find that people tend to be in a more buoyant spirit now, and I love to elevate that further through providing recipes that add more cheer. This past year has been rather difficult and very busy for me, and I would not be surprised if it has been the same for you, but I believe you can always make time to bake an orange cake. It will immediately improve your mood, as I have experienced time and again.

So yes, let’s bring the coming year in on a happy note. To me, there is something about the scent of oranges that is particularly uplifting, and Nagpur oranges happen to be in season. They are particularly juicy and sweet right now, as well as inexpensively available. These fruits were what inspired me to come up with this recipe. It was such a pleasure to put this one in the oven. The whole house smelled of citrus fruit, and was imbued with a sense of celebration. It was a treat to slice it up after the photoshoot. I like to bake my cakes lightly sweet, so that we can eat more without finding them too rich, and with less guilt over the indulgence. This one has the perfect combination of citrusy, sweet and buttery flavours, resulting in a moreish delight.

Long-time readers may recall a date and orange cake and a citrus bundt that have made appearances on this blog, but this one is different. It has a beautiful balance of tartness and sweetness that I love.

Yes, it really is all about balance at the end of the day. But I do believe in something called hope, which is why I dare to say: I hope that no matter what has come before, let the coming year bring a large share of sweet experiences our way. I read somewhere long ago that one of the things that differentiates human beings from animals is our capacity for hope. It is a mental concept that comes from higher evolution, and is what makes us innovate. That idea has stayed with me.

It is said that we have to consciously manifest what we want, asking the universe to provide it. This requires a positive mindset: thinking positive, wishing for positive things, even as we work hard to bring our dreams to life.

“Manifest” happens to have been the Cambridge Dictionary’s Word of the Year 2024, and I have been pondering the concept. I know that nothing happens overnight. Hard work must be present, and we must change things for ourselves in small ways wherever possible (and in larger ways if we get a chance to). It’s not like we can sit still and just wait for the Universe to give us what we want. We have to reach out, choose and act. There will undoubtedly be challenges along the way, but what allows us to stay motivated is hope.

I want to say another word here about manifestation, though. It’s not, if you don’t mind the pun, “as easy as cake”. When we put our intentions out there, even with all sincerity, we still have to make sure that we don’t feel dejected if things don’t play out like we thought they would. I once tried to manifest something in my life. I deeply wished and wished, and it didn’t happen – at least not in the way I expected it to. Now, much later, I feel glad, because what did happen instead turned out much better in the long run. But at the time, I was very sad. In retrospect, the lesson for me is in trusting the bigger picture. The Universe knows what it is giving each of us, and whatever happens is for the best. We may not feel that right away, but some day we might. Hopefully. Yes, it really is all about hope when it comes down to it. Let’s enter 2025 with hearts full of hope about what we can look forward to, and how we can make peace with all that has already come to pass.

Orange Cake

265 grams maida
45 grams corn flour
2¼ teaspoon baking powder
½ teaspoon salt
250 grams sugar, granulated
⅓ cup oil
¾ cup unsalted butter
3 teaspoons orange zest
½ cup milk
½ cup orange juice
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
3 eggs

Cream cheese frosting

1 cup butter
450 grams icing sugar
1 cup unsalted butter
1 cup cream cheese
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 tablespoons orange juice
2 teaspoons zest

To prepare the cream cheese frosting, which you can do ahead of time, cream the butter using a hand-held blender. Now, add in the sugar slowly. Making sure the sugar is covered as you pour, as it can fly all over the counter.

Next, add the cream cheese, zest and orange juice. Mix well until it all comes together. Refrigerate until use.

To bake the cake, preheat the oven at 160°C. Prepare two 8-inch cake tins by greasing and dusting them. Set aside.

Sift the dry ingredients: the flours, baking powder and salt. Set aside.

In a mixing bowl, add the sugar, butter, oil and orange zest. Using a hand-held blender, beat this mixture well until it is creamy. This will take approximately 1-2 minutes.

Now, slowly add the eggs one at a time, beating continuously. Add the milk, orange juice and vanilla extract. Beat well. Now rest the hand blender.

Next, add the dry ingredients to the wet. Use a spatula to fold the mixture gently until it all comes together. Do not over beat at this stage.

Divide the mixture evenly into the two prepared baking tins. Bake in the oven for approximately 30 minutes. Check that it is thoroughly baked by inserting a toothpick. If it comes out clean your cake is ready.

Remove the tins. Allow them to cool on the counter for 10-15 minutes before turning them on to a wire rack to cool completely.

Now you can ice the two cakes, layering them with cream cheese frosting in between as well as on top.

Your festive, fruity orange cake is now ready to charm anyone you serve it to – and I hope that by sharing this recipe, I have brought more joy to you, too!

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