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Recipe: “The Best Chocolate Cake In 27 Years!” – Classic Chocolate Cake

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With my kids being at home with me during the lockdown, I’ve found myself baking even more than usual – which is saying a lot! I’ve been enjoying this process, and as always I can’t help but reach out for my camera to challenge myself and indulge my creative side. With every new image of a cake that I post on Instagram, a flood of messages comes in, mostly from people asking for recipes. I’m so thankful to each and every one of you who enjoys my posts and I’m thrilled to share this recipe with you today.

The joke in the house is that I won’t share my cake recipes with my kids unless they bake along with me, which they rarely do. I’ve decided to make an exception as April happened to be my son’s birthday month, and I want to spread some happiness during what is a challenging time for all of us. This classic-style chocolate cake recipe is my gift to my son, to make use of when he returns to his city eventually, so he can remember all the bonding moments we shared together in these last few months. I am just as delighted to share it with you. As someone who took her first step into the world of entrepreneurship through the world of baking, I know just how much pleasure and empowerment and sheer comfort the process can bring. I hope you experience that delight today.

This chocolate cake is a repeat order in my house, so to speak, because it is my son’s favourite. Every single time I bake it, he relishes a generous slice and says, “Mom, today’s cake is the best one I’ve had in 27 years!” Every single time! Such appreciation truly makes my day. I’ve also noticed how there’s just something about cakes in particular that have such an uplifting effect. Perhaps that really is why they’re such a vital element of celebrations.

What I am sharing today is a no-fail or foolproof recipe. What’s lovely about it is that it is not very heavy, being oil-based. This also makes it very moist. It has a lovely, deep and rich colour which comes courtesy of the coffee powder used. The coffee powder enhances the cocoa flavour, and doesn’t impart even a whiff of its own flavour into the cake. Don’t be perturbed by it. This will not turn out to be a coffee cake. Follow the simple recipe step by step, and you’ll achieve a chocolate cake that is not cloyingly sweet, tastes absolutely delicious, and that you’ll no doubt bake over and over.

 

I hope that all of you baking for the first time because of the resultant free time due to the lockdown will also find the same comfort and satisfaction in it that I do. There are two things I’d like to share with beginner bakers. Firstly, I get a lot of questions about ingredient substitutes and shortcuts that go something like: “I don’t have baking powder; can I still bake a cake? How about without an oven?” My answer to them all is straightforward: baking is a science. It’s all about formulas and proportions. Once you’ve understood that, you can tweak ingredients, explore different flours and powders, and experiment. Until then, don’t start off on the wrong footing. Baking isn’t like cooking. It isn’t like replacing chilli powder with another spice. Every part of the process and every ingredient involved has a role to play when it comes to the final product of a cake.

Which brings me to the second major tip I have for beginner bakers: patience is key. If you’re in a hurry to see the end of the cake, it won’t happen! Enjoy the process.

I know that more people are binging on sweet treats now more than ever, so I’ll let you in on one more secret from the re:store kitchen. The key to moderation is not making less, it’s sharing more! A neighbour once asked my son, “Your mother bakes every day; how come you’re all so trim?” That’s because everything I put into the oven is split into many portions. For instance, whenever I bake this chocolate cake, everyone from family members to our household staff to our neighbours gets a slice. There’s a different quality of delight that comes when everyone partakes. Rest assured, there are never leftovers. It’s wonderful to bring that bit of sweetness into everyone’s day.

To my son: I hope this recipe travels with you through your life. Spending your birthday with the family, despite lockdown, was a beautiful occasion for us. Dressing up, dining together, cutting a cake, and bonding – we have been creating memories to cherish. I initially thought that we’d get on each others’ nerves, but I’m glad to be experiencing the opposite. We’re learning so much from each other about sharing and caring. Up until now, everyone was living in their own cities and doing their own thing, and sometimes I felt scared that I would be alone when I most needed it. Instead, the joy we’ve experienced in this time through being together reassures me of all the love that I have in my life.

 

Classic Chocolate Cake

(Serves 5)

Ingredients:

250 grams all purpose flour

85 grams unsweetened cocoa powder

400 grams powdered sugar

2 teaspoons baking powder

1 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon coffee powder

120 ml oil

240 ml milk

2 tablespoons white vinegar

2 eggs

1 teaspoon vanilla essence

240 ml hot water

 

Butter icing:

150 grams unsalted butter at room temperature

400 grams icing sugar

¾ cup cocoa powder

1 teaspoon vanilla essence

A few drops of milk, if needed

 

Preheat the oven to 170°C. Prepare two 8’ cake tins by greasing the tins and dusting them with flour. Line the bases with parchment paper. The parchment paper helps release the cakes easily from the tins, after baking. Two tins are used as this allows you to put a layer of chocolate icing between them.

In a bowl, add the milk (at room temperature) and the vinegar. This is called buttermilk. Set aside.

Sift the dry ingredients together: flour, cocoa powder, salt, sugar, baking soda and baking powder.

In another bowl, add the eggs, oil, buttermilk and vanilla essence and mix them together.  If you’d like to, you can use orange or mint essence instead of the vanilla to give the cake a different flavour.

Now, add this wet mixture to the dry mixture and fold well, making sure there are no lumps. Do not over-beat. Next, add the coffee powder to the hot water to create a slightly thin liquid. Add this to the cake mixture too.

Now, pour the batter evenly into the prepared tins and bake for 30-40 minutes, or until a skewer comes out clean when you insert it.

Remove the tins from the oven and allow them to cool for 10-15 minutes. When cooled, flip the cake tins, remove the parchment paper and cool the cakes on a rack. Then, flip them back again (top side up).

While the cakes are cooling, prepare the icing. Stir the butter and dry ingredients with a spoon first, otherwise you’ll have the cocoa powder and sugar flying out of the bowl. Add the cocoa powder and vanilla essence, and slowly add the icing sugar until the mixture reaches a spreadable texture. Only once the mixture has been partially incorporated should you use a handheld blender. Beat until creamy. If required, add milk to achieve the consistency you desire. Store in the refrigerator.

Once the cakes have cooled to room temperature, you can frost and layer them to form a single cake. Here’s a video of the frosting – tempting, isn’t it?

Level the tops of both cakes with a sharp knife, until they are flat and even. Place one layer on a cake stand. Frost the top, and then gently place the second layer over it. Now, frost the top of this as well. If you have any kind of toppings on hand that you’d like to use, such as confectionery or fruit, go ahead and decorate the cake as you wish.

The trick to making clean slices lies in a half hour of refrigeration after frosting, so don’t skip this step before you serve it.

At a time like this, I believe that sharing something uplifting and refreshing is the need of the hour, and I could think of no better recipe that would do that than this beautiful chocolate cake. We should all remain in positive spirits, hoping and praying for the best and resisting feeling pulled down. I want you to feel good when a notification about a new post from me arrives. So I want you to tell me: what are some recipes you’d like to see on the blog in future? Looking forward to hearing your wishes in the comments!

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Recipe: The Rustic Loaf –Eggless- Whole-Wheat Saffron & Cardamom Cake

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For as long as I’ve been cooking, I have woken up every morning wondering what new dish I might try in my kitchen. This hasn’t changed at all during this lockdown. I’m still starting each day by planning what I can prepare. Of course, as all of you are no doubt experiencing too, there’s an extra step of having to be especially creative so as to maximise available ingredients since grocery shopping is more infrequent now. Still, I believe that we must always eat well, as much as we can. Desserts are still on my mind – sometimes the thought I start my day with is: a sourdough-based dish, or a cake? The other day, I picked baking a cake – a whole-wheat saffron and cardamom cake to be precise – and I’m glad to share the recipe with you today.

Teatimes at home now have a whole new vibe. I usually have my tea alone, but with everyone at home all day at the moment, they have become a special bonding experience. This is why a cake made all the more sense to me, as an accompaniment to our cuppas and conversations. With the re:store kitchen on hiatus along with so many other food and beverage enterprises in the city, I also missed baking on a daily basis. Going through my blog, I realised that in these three and a half years, I have shared no more than four cake recipes with you. Given that they are my signature product, I felt that there’s no time like the present to give you another one.

Like most of re:store’s baked goods, this whole-wheat cake is mildly sweet, with no icing. The cardamom and saffron add a faint but wonderful whiff of Indian-ness to it. An added benefit is that it’s eggless – perfect for vegetarians, and in case you’re running out of eggs at the moment. It’s a very easy cake to prepare, as well. Baking cakes always involves a simple formula, as I reminded my niece when she attempted one of the recipes I shared earlier. If you follow the basic principles carefully, they reliably turn out perfect. This one, I can assure you, is not only easy to make but also very tasty.

Earlier, I enjoyed making this cake using mini loaf tins. For a change, this time I baked the cake in a regular-sized loaf tin, selecting it from the pans which I have collected over time. This tin shape makes the cake especially cute, and it comes out in the perfect size to slice up. The portions are ideal for a family of five at teatime. Ours is 5+1 at the moment, including my dog Max – who always reminds us that we better eat up our share quickly, before he gobbles it up!

If cardamom and saffron aren’t available in your kitchen right now, this recipe will work equally well with lavender or even some mild lemon zest. The choice is yours. Feel free to experiment with flavours (and be sure to let me know in the comments later what you decided to do). Happy baking!

Whole-Wheat Saffron/Cardamom Cake

(Serves 5)

180 grams whole-wheat flour

185 grams white powdered sugar

2 tablespoons brown sugar

½ teaspoon cardamom powder

5-10 strands saffron

65 grams soft butter

1 teaspoon baking soda

¼ teaspoon salt

240ml whole milk

Preheat the oven to 180°C.

Prepare a loaf tin by greasing the tin and lining it with parchment paper.

Remove a ¼  cup of milk from the 240ml, keeping the rest aside. Soak the saffron strands in this for half an hour or until colour rises.

In another bowl, add all the dry ingredients and mix them together well. Then, add the wet ingredients one by one and mix again.

Pour the batter into the loaf tin and place it in the oven. Allow to bake for 30 – 40 minutes or until a skewer comes out clean.

Toward the end of the baking process, you may notice that the cake acquires a darker colour on top. This is due to the brown sugar. If you prefer, you may cover the cake loosely with parchment paper while it bakes, to avoid excess browning.

Let it cool slightly, then remove the still-warm loaf and slice it up for serving. The lovely thing about this cake is that it needs no icing or any kind of topping, and responds well to a variety of flavourings. It has a nice rustic look, and tastes perfectly moist and delicious all on its own. The perfect accompaniment is a cup of tea – along with a pleasant conversation…

I hope you’ll enjoy this recipe, and that it adds a hint of sweetness and sparkle to this challenging time!

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Recipe: Traditionally Tasty – Red Rice & Jaggery Pongal

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The revival of traditional ingredients and culinary methods is something very close to my heart, and you may have noticed this passion in everything from the cookware you see in my photographs to the recipes I’ve shared on this blog over the years. This is also the reason why I celebrate so many festive occasions, and believe in passing on traditions to my children, be they cultural (such as certain Diwali or raksha bandhan rituals) or sentimental (such as heirloom recipes). This return to a time-honoured way of life is very valuable to us. It was in this spirit that I accepted the opportunity to create a recipe over the Pongal festival for a special feature in The Hindu. Although Pongal has now passed, any time is a good time to try something delicious, and I hope you’ll like this recipe for traditional South Indian red rice and jaggery pongal.

When I discovered an organic store in Chennai, Spirit of the Earth, I really enjoyed looking at the hundreds of varieties of locally produced rice from around India. I especially love black rice, which has a nutty flavour and appealing colour as well as being nutrient-rich. As someone with Vitamin B12 deficiency, it provides a source of iron that I’m glad to incorporate into my diet frequently. It’s also a very versatile grain, and I enjoy using it in dessert, specifically in Thai-inspired sticky rice with mango pudding. The red rice varieties were also very intriguing to me, and one of them is the key ingredient of this recipe.

Having experimented with growing organic produce on our farm over several seasons now, I now truly understand why turning away from chemical-heavy and industrialised agriculture is good for us. What we do is on a small scale, and mostly for our own sustenance, although we do sell to selected organic stores as well. We cultivate traditional varieties of fruit, flower and produce, and the only kinds of rice and millets we usually eat at home are from our own fields. Among the produce we grow are: ragi, green moong, black rice, barnyard millet, samai and thinnai. Even taste-wise, I find that hybrid varieties of fruit simply don’t taste as sweet. The sight of blossoms like the manoranjitha, which I grew up with but hardly find in Chennai anymore, warms the heart.

It is deeply meaningful to me to be able to provide all these forms of a sense of belonging to my children, who are grown up and live in different parts of the world. They know that they have a home to return to, which will be filled with love and tradition, where meals will be served with ingredients we have carefully cultivated ourselves. When they are not here, they have the recipes on this blog, which will teach them (no matter what time zone they’re in!) how to whip up their favourite comfort foods for themselves. This was one of my core reasons for beginning this blog. While it may look like a motley collection of recipes, that is only because I want it to speak to many generations and tastes, and span influences that reflect all our travels and dreams. We are all multi-taskers with many interests, which is why I keep things varied.

Beginning with my love of cooking for others, I then also started taking photographs. After early trials and errors, I attended workshops to hone my skills, and practiced hard. I think the results of these efforts will be clear even if you look back at old posts. I am proud to have come a long way since then, and especially that I took the step to establish Nandi Shah Photography in 2019. I think it’s still early enough in the year to share again this calendar, which showcases the combination of two of my great loves: baking and photography.

Another very important component of this blog is the health aspect, and whether it’s vegan, Macrobiotic or simply a smarter ingredient substitute, I am always on the look-out for how to create the most nutritious recipes. This red rice and jaggery pongal checks all the boxes here.

Pongal is a traditional South Indian rice porridge, and red rice is a perfect substitute for white rice. I like using Onamatta rice in this recipe as it has a beautiful fragrance. It also tends to cook faster and is a soft rice variety. Originating in Kerala, it is also known as Rosematta rice. A highly nutritious and filling grain, it keeps you full for a long time, making it an ideal appetite-curbing dish during dieting or fasting. I find that red rice also has a way of uplifting the flavours of local vegetables and dhal. It tastes delicious with palm jaggery, which is great sweetener. I’ve had the opportunity to see it being made as well, and I highly encourage it as a sugar substitute. Jaggery has long been the traditional sweetener in Tamil Nadu cooking, and I believe that ancient pongal varieties would have also been made with millets and older grains.

What I am sharing today is a traditional recipe, relished for centuries. You’ll see why when you taste it.

 

Red Rice & Jaggery Pongal

(Yield:  3-4 cups)

½ cup red rice

½ cup jaggery

6-8 cashews

2 tablespoons mung dal

2 ½ cups water

3 + 1 tablespoons ghee

1 pinch of cardamom powder

1 handful of raisins

 

Roast the cashews in a ½ teaspoon of ghee. Add the raisins and roast until they bubble up. Set aside.

Roast the mung dal in a ½ teaspoon of ghee until it releases an aroma. Now, add the cleaned and washed Onamatta rice to it. Add water and allow the rice and dal to cook until tender in a pressure cooker on a medium flame.

In a pan, add ghee. Now, add the palm jaggery. It will begin to melt in a few minutes. Then, add the rice mixture and blend well.

Add the cardamom powder, raisins and cashews, mix well and top it off with a drizzle of ghee before serving.

Preparing a traditional dish like this, no matter when, always has a comforting feeling to it. I truly believe in the adage “We are what we eat.” Food has a unique way of expressing this. Four generations of my family have lived in South India now, and it’s a part of who we are. This red rice and jaggery pongal is a beautiful way for me to honour that connection, as well as my personal appreciation for all things organic. I’d love to know what you think when you try it out!

 

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Recipe: Festively Flavourful – Pistachio & Rose Nan Khatai

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When we were growing up, our mother once decided to take a Western baking class to expand her repertoire in the kitchen. As children, we adored the pastries, cakes and short eats our mother learned to bake there. In those days, embarking on such a class was considered quite unusual and therefore very progressive in Chennai, and in other parts of India. In the hill stations, there would always be families who had learned recipes from the British chefs, so they knew how to bake. In the cities, Western food was available only at clubs, and made by chefs who themselves would have studied under foreigners. For an average homemaker to go out and educate herself in Western cooking was a rare thing. Now, thinking back on how uncommon it was, I admire her all the more.

Mum was always very curious. She always wanted to know how food had been prepared, and never felt any embarrassment about enquiring on the same. She would just ask nicely, and people were often forthcoming about how a particular dish was made. In this way, she picked up a wide range of recipes, and became a master in the kitchen. I’m sure that this trait is something I’ve inherited from her, and I am always eager to keep learning, just as she did.

Our mother attending this baking course opened up so many snacking and celebration possibilities for us. There, she learned not only Western-style cakes and pastries, but various other types of baked goods as well. Among them was nan khatai, a kind of shortbread biscuit that originated in the Indian subcontinent. Nan khatai has an especially interesting story behind it. It is believed that a Dutch couple ran a bakery in 16th century Surat, a Gujarati seaport which had many traders and expats. This establishment was inherited by a Parsi gentleman when the Dutch left the country, but he found no takers for their cakes and bakes. To his surprise, the locals seemed to enjoy the dried, old bread most of all. The legend is that he decided to simply sell dried bread, which gave rise to this particular recipe. A similar biscuit is eaten in Afghanistan and Iran, where it is known as kulcha-e-khatai.

I remember carrying boxes of nan khatai on the train whenever I visited cousins or relatives, homemade gifts from my mother. I enjoy continuing the tradition of taking homemade dishes as gifts when I visit friends nowadays.

This nan khatai is neither Surat-style, nor what my mother was taught at her baking class, nor her own improvisation (the original uses wheat flour; she added a bit of besan or chickpea to hers). It is, of course, re:store-style – loaded with delicious flavours I love to use in the kitchen. Soft and crisp at the same time, this pistachio and rose nan khatai a real treat. Its fusion of cultures and influences makes me feel it’s ideal for an Indian Christmas. As an eggless baked treat, it’s also perfect for vegetarians.

 

Pistachio & Rose Nan Khatai

(Yield: 25 pieces)

100 grams powdered sugar

80 grams ghee (clarified butter) at room temperature

100 grams maida

25 grams pistachio meal

½ teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon baking powder

2 tablespoons semolina

60 grams chickpea flour (besan)

½ teaspoon cardamom powder

A few strands of saffron, soaked in 1 teaspoon rose water

2 teaspoons yoghurt

½ teaspoon pistachio extract

Rose water (if required)

 

Pre-heat the oven to 160°C.

Add all the dry ingredients together, sift and set aside.

With a hand blender, beat the ghee and sugar together until the mixture is light and fluffy. Now add the yoghurt, pistachio extract and saffron. Mix gently.

Next, add the dry ingredients to the mixture. Use your hands to bring it all together. It will be a soft dough. If required, add 1 teaspoon of rose water to bind it better.

In a baking tray, lay out small rolls of the dough and top each with a slice of pistachio. Make sure there is space between the rolls to give them room to bloom. Bake for approximately 15 minutes, depending on the oven type.

Remove from the oven and allow to cool.

Your re:store-style nan khatai is ready to serve, just in time for the year-end festivities! This Western-but-Asian biscuit is delightful with tea. Isn’t it amazing how much history and how many cultures one little biscuit can contain? Aromatic thanks to the rose water and extra crunchy thanks to the pistachio, I am sure you’ll find it as addictive as I do. Here’s wishing you and your family a wonderful Christmas. I hope a batch of pistachio and rose nan khatai will be baking in your oven soon – let me know what you think of it!

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Recipe: Plucked From The Tree Of Childhood Memories – Plum Chutney

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When I began to imagine this post, it was with the idea that there was not much of a memory storyline behind the recipe I am sharing today. All that had come to mind when a friend gifted me a basket of plums, and I wondered what I could make with them, was that I would pluck the tiny, country variety from trees in Ooty during our summertime holidays when I was growing up… And then, before I knew it, an abundance of recollections came flooding back – of reaching with my own hands for something to eat, raw and delicious and freshly-plucked. Before I get carried away with those reminiscences, let me just say that the recent occasion of Thanksgiving, which is important to my American friends and family, as well as the upcoming Christmas season also gave me inspiration. The plum relish that is traditionally enjoyed during those festivities has been Indianised in my home as plum chutney, and that’s the recipe that this trip down memory lane will culminate in.

The gift basket I received contained what I call “the millennial plum”, a delicious hybrid cultivar which is large and has a deep maroon colour. It usually tastes sweet. The country plums of my childhood, by contrast, were sour and tangy. They came in an orangeish shade and were relatively tiny. Still, as little children, my siblings, cousins, friends and I absolutely delighted in them. There was just a certain immense joy in picking fruits right off a branch and eating them unwashed. There was a rawness to the experience that brought us closer to Nature. Even the sourest fruit was enjoyed in this way.

Fruit-picking was always a thrilling activity for us, both with and without permission. When we had the chance to go abroad for holidays with our aunt, she would give us baskets of our own and take us to strawberry farms, where we would spend the day indulging this hobby of ours to the fullest. We would cherish and guard those baskets full of fresh, ripe fruit. Every last berry was special, plucked with our own hands, and tasted all the more delicious for this reason.

Back home, far from the hills of Tamil Nadu or the strawberry farms of Europe, we still pursued our fruit-gathering in earnest. We would run loose in our neighbourhood and steal mangoes from the trees, as I think I’ve mentioned a number of times on this blog before. It was certainly one of our favourite past-times, even if scoldings were a natural consequence!

The fruit-bearing local naatu cherry tree and the nellika or gooseberry tree were two that I grew up under, and to this day the sight of either of these can make me feel a bit emotional. The gooseberry tree in our garden was laden with kambilipoochis (hairy caterpillars), which would invariably leave a hair or two on me when I reached up to grab those fruits, and I would have to go crying to my mother to get her to remove those caterpillar hairs! Those naatu (country) cherries weren’t the beautiful, glossy-looking ones that top my cakes today, but a small, orange-coloured variety with a tiny, grain-like seed inside. There was also a black-coloured berry, sour and with a high Vitamin C content, with a name that slips my mind. These local, edible fruits were so plentiful in Chennai in those days, available to anyone who knew how to climb a tree.

I’ve spoken before of how much I long to revive different varieties of plants and flowers in our little farmland. I really believe that some of our green wealth is disappearing, and it hurts to find proof of it, as I did when I went looking for wood-apple recently. I dream of planting the trees of some of the fruits I plucked and ate in childhood. I’ve started the process by asking everyone I know for cuttings. Would you have some – of any kind of fruit, flower or plant that seems to be scarce in and around Chennai these days, but which you remember from before? I only specify Chennai because the cutting needs to be suitable to our climate.

The more time I spent reminiscing, the more I remembered: not only did we love eating freshly plucked (and sometimes stolen) fruit, but we even foraged for plants and flowers! The three leaf clover that grows like a weed was one of these. We’d just pop one into our mouths and enjoy its sour, earthy taste. There were also certain flowers, like the gorgeous orange trumpet flower, which we would suck the nectar out of after removing the stem. Did you do any of these activities growing up, when it seemed like we played in the outdoors so much more than the children of today do?

Let me bring this little trip down memory lane, lined with fruit-bearing trees, full circle by coming back to the gift of plums. In India, you can make a chutney with pretty much anything, and I was curious to try out this fruity one. My husband is a big fan of chutneys, and will even have some on the side with a pasta, so I know for a fact that this plum chutney is very versatile. You can also roll it up in a chapatti for a tiffin box, or spread it on toast. It has a sweet, spicy flavour that lends itself as an accompaniment to many dishes.

 

Plum Chutney

(Yield: 350 grams)

500 grams plums

150 grams sugar

1 small onion

⅛ teaspoon ginger powder

1 star anise

Salt to taste

2 teaspoons dry chili flakes

2 tablespoons apple cider vinegar

Lemon zest

 

Plums are a succulent fruit with a vast number of health benefits, from improving cardiovascular health to reducing the risk of osteoporosis to promoting skin health. They are packed with Vitamin C and Vitamin A, as well as antioxidants and minerals. They have been grown since ancient times, and the hybrid types we get today thrive in various places in India – which means we are fortunate that the market is abundantly flooded with them too.

This plum chutney is very simple to prepare, but requires one step of overnight prep. Chop the plums and discard the seeds. Add sugar to the fruit pieces, and cover with a lid. Allow to soak and refrigerate overnight, as this will reduce the cooking time.

The following day, add all the remaining ingredients to the sugar-soaked fruit. Boil on a medium flame. I lightly blended the mixture with a hand blender to break down and bring the flavours together.

Allow to simmer until the chutney thickens. Then, allow to cool.

With a clean spoon, transfer the plum chutney into a clean jar and refrigerate. As long as dry spoons are used and the container is refrigerated, a batch can be kept for up to a couple of weeks.

You may serve it with cheese as they do in the West, or with chapatti as I do at home, but either way, I hope a jar of it finds a place at your table this Christmas – and I hope you’ll simply relish it!

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Recipe: A Tonic For The Changing Season – Raab

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The seasons are changing and the usual respiratory illnesses are going around as we adjust to the weather, worsened of course by pollution and the busy modern lifestyle. A few years ago, I shared this remedy from my childhood, and many of you told me that you found it effective and refreshing. Now, I’ll share a complementary dish, a warm and nourishing porridge that I absolutely loved while growing up. This raab is like chicken broth for the Gujarati soul, and is one of my most favourite comfort foods of all.

Raab was my mother’s go-to fixer for colds, sore throats, coughs and so on. It coats the throat well, alleviating any itchiness there. New mothers are often fed raab, due to its fortifying properties. I think of it as a dish to simply warm the soul, when you’re feeling down and need a hug. It’s a light meal for whenever you’re feeling under the weather.

Raab falls into the category of “accessible medicine”, something which anyone can make, especially when a pharmacy is out of reach. It is comprised of very basic and affordable ingredients that can be found in any Gujarati kitchen: ghee, bajra (pearl millet) or wheat flour, ginger powder (soont) and edible gum resin (gond). Most communities will have some version of such a dish, made of elements which are at hand for all members of society.

Bajra or pearl millet is usually had during the winter months or during the wet, cold seasons. My aunt, an expert in Gujarati cooking, and from whom I learnt a lot during my many summer holidays with her, explained that bajra and ajwain (carom seeds) are used during winters as they warm the body. In the summers, wheat flour is substituted for the millet. The ginger powder also has a warming effect, in addition to adding taste. I’m still trying to find out exactly why dry ginger powder is used rather than freshly grated ginger, and have arrived at my own conclusion. My theory is this: dry ginger is a ‘yang’ ingredient, hence positively affects the deeper organs in the body like our bones. It is also stronger than hydrated fresh ginger.

My aunt would also also say, “Don’t forget to add the gond.” It has numerous health benefits, including aiding the digestion. I saw this lady in Patdi, Gujarat, selling the resin, which she told me she collected herself from the bark of trees in her village. I couldn’t resist buying some from her.

With so many healthy ingredients, you would imagine that children would need a lot of convincing before they ate this porridge, but that’s not true. Whenever my siblings or I fell ill when we were growing up, I would ask for a bowl of raab as I absolutely loved it. The reason for this is that this remedy is… sweet! This is thanks to the jaggery, of course, which has its own host of benefits, as regular readers of this blog will be familiar with. Raab tastes so delicious that you’d never believe it was good for the body, but the proof is in how healed and nourished you feel after you’ve had some.

If I wasn’t unwell, my mother always said No to my request, and this has created a powerful memory link for me. She never treated raab as an anytime dish, as a result of which I too refrain from doing the same. There is also something to the charm of having it when under the weather, and feeling soothed by it in those times, and I feel this would disappear if I began to enjoy it as an ordinary meal. Today of course, my dearest mother is gone and when I make it for myself, I associate it with being soothing both to my throat and to my heart because it was she who would make it for me…

In that sense, raab is sentimental for me in the same way that laapsi, a sweet I only ever make on Diwali, is. No one is going to stop me from making it at some other time of the year, but I consider it sacred in some way, just as I do the raab.

Raab

(Yield: 1 bowl)

⅛ cup bajra (pearl millet) flour

⅛ cup jaggery

1½ tablespoons ghee

2 cups water

1 teaspoon dry ginger powder

½ teaspoon ajwain

In a pan, add the ghee and the flour. Stir them together on a low-medium flame until the mixture looks like a roux. Keep stirring, making sure it does not stick to the bottom of the pan, until it turns a golden colour.

At the same time, in another pot, add the jaggery and the water. Heat until the jaggery melts, stirring occasionally.

Once the roux is golden, add the ginger powder, the ajwain and the powdered gond resin. The gond will make the mixture bubble and fluff up at this point. Finally, add the warm jaggery water. Stir well and carefully, so the mixture does not start to coagulate and get lumpy.

Once it is completely smooth, it is ready to be served. Raab is best enjoyed hot.

As explained above, bajra is especially good for the winters and monsoons, as is ragi. In the summer months, you can replace it with whole wheat flour or any seasonal flour of your choice. If you don’t have much of a sweet tooth, you can also reduce the quantity of jaggery in this dish.

I wish you and your family good health as the season changes, and I am glad to share this simple and satisfying dish that will help with the sniffles and fatigue that are customary at this time. Such recipes have been treasured for generations, and it’s up to us to keep these healing traditions going in the time to come. Here are a few more home remedies: soothing syrup, raisin kalkand syrup and turmeric shot. Each of them boosts the health – and, as I personally find, the mood too! They take me on a trip down memory lane that always reminds me that food is a form of love.

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Recipe: Bites of Delight This Diwali – Sweet Boondi

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This Diwali, in so many homes across India (and in Indian homes across the world), sweets are going to be the star of the celebrations. Among several I am preparing is the sweet boondi, which I only learned how to make recently. Much to my surprise, it was an almost effortless process. Originating from Rajasthani cuisine and also popular in Bengal, boondi is essentially fried balls of chickpea batter, submerged in sugar syrup. It is certainly an indulgence, but that’s what festive seasons are for, aren’t they?

My sister has become my culinary teacher of late, and I was staying with her for a few weeks while having my sciatica treated. You may have noticed that I had been lying low on Instagram for awhile, and that was the reason why. I believe that illnesses have a mind-body connect, and my body forced me to destress through this one. The best advice that anyone gave me was that I needed to enjoy my downtime. I spent my recuperation reading, catching up with films, taking it easy, doing mild exercises which were a far cry from my frantic and intensive gym regimen, and just breathing. We have to remind ourselves to slow down and savour the moment. For those of you watching your diet over the holidays, you know exactly how it feels to let yourself enjoy just one sweet. That’s the kind of slowing down and savouring that I am talking about.

Staying with my sister gave me a chance to watch her working in her kitchen daily, and to pick up so many techniques and recipes from her. Among them was this sweet boondi. Like many people, I had consumed it innumerable times without ever attempting to make it myself.

Boondi is made in different sizes. The tiny one is called “motichoor”, for “moti”, meaning pearl. This recipe can be considered medium-sized. I recall enjoying the large, laddoo version of this sweet as a child (“motichoor laddoo”, in which many small balls are rolled together to make one big one). Another way to make this sweet is to flatten out the batter on a dish and cut it into squares, which are then fried and dipped in sugar syrup just like all the variants.

These days, with the proliferation of sweet stores, I find that many people reach out to purchase a whole range of treats without any idea of how easy they are to make. The soft sandesh that I recently shared on this blog was a perfect example of this. Some of my friends told me after reading the post that they had no idea that an item they had always considered fancy and difficult to make was in fact extremely straightforward and required so few ingredients. We often have the impression that just because something is available for purchase in stores and at restaurants, it cannot be prepared at home. This sweet boondi is similar. Let me assure you that as long as you master the consistency of the batter and the syrup syrup, you’ll be able to whip it up in your own kitchen in no time. The process is quick and easy, not as long-drawn and elaborate as you may have imagined.

Unlike perishable milk sweets, this dish will keep for a few more days – but I guarantee you that you won’t have proof of that. It’s far too irresistible. Place it on the table and just watch it disappear!

 

Sweet Boondi

(Yield: approximately 3 cups)

1 cup chickpea flour

¾ cup water

1 cup sugar + ½ cup water

¼ teaspoon saffron + 1 teaspoon water

½ cup sliced almonds

 

The trick is to get the consistency of the batter just right, so that it drips into the oil properly as it fries. After this, the next trick is to have perfectly-made sugar syrup is key. I was so tempted to flavour mine with rosewater, given that rose is an ingredient I reach for so frequently that it’s one of re:store’s signature twists. But I refrained, choosing to go for a traditional spice instead. The saffron in this sweet adds a subtle fragrance and flavour to it.

In a bowl, mix the chickpea flour with water. It needs to be almost like an idly batter or pancake batter consistency. Only if you have the consistency right will the boondi drop into beautiful dots.

In another bowl, add the sugar and ½ cup water. In a medium flame, stir the sugar and water slightly for about 10 minutes until it becomes thicker, but not too thick. Allow to cool slightly and add the soaked saffron so the sugar expands in an orange colour.

Heat ghee in a frying pan on a medium flame. Once the ghee is hot, drop the batter through a sieve so that it falls in tiny droplets into the hot ghee. See the video below for the method.

Fry the droplets for a few minutes, making sure it doesn’t turn colour. Now, strain the drops from the hot ghee and add them into the warm sugar syrup. Fry all of the batter this way. As you drop the boondi into the syrup, it will soak up the syrup.

Garnish with sliced almonds or pistachio, or to give it a festive look, decorate with silver leaf/varak. Your sweet boondi is now ready to serve.

If you prefer this boondi in laddoo form, then the sugar syrup needs to be thicker so that you can pick up the boondi and roll it into balls between your palms.

When it comes to snacks, my most favourite combinations are both sweet and savoury. I love having this sweet boondi with the crunchy, spicy poha roast mix. Over Diwali, I feel like I consume endless bowls of the two together, with their medley of textures and tastes.

You may have noticed that the majority of recipes I share are for dishes I have some emotional connect with, especially from my childhood. This sweet boondi is one with which I have no such nostalgic attachment, but for me festivals and food are not just about the past. Each dish, each festivity, is a chance for new experiences. We create new memories this way, which may eventually become sentimental in their own way. As we celebrate this Diwali, I wish for you that the year to come contains all the sweetness of this dish. I hope it will be a part of the precious bonds that you are building over your dining table, too.

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Recipe: A Bite Into Bengali Sweet Culture – Soft Sandesh

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Festivals are a big part of Indian culture and making a sweet (or many!) at home during special occasions is almost mandatory.  Growing up, my mother would make an array of them, along with savouries, and we would wait to devour those goodies. I prefer to keep some of those traditions alive so that future generations may understand and value our heritage. Even today, I make sweets and savouries at home, although less than my mum used to. However, with the festive season having begun, and orders pouring in, I’ve been making so many lately that I really felt  I needed to make a dish that was just for me. Although most of the members of my family are not fans of this one, and it being a quickly perishable item means that it isn’t ideal for my clients at re:store, this soft sandesh is something I simply had to make for myself the other day. I’m a huge fan of this delicate milk sweet, and I relished having it to myself.

Typically from Bengal, sandesh is prepared in myriad ways and each version seems tastier than the other. While there is a popular version where the mixture is heated and stirred until dry, I prefer this one. During my trial for the perfect recipe, I made a small batch of the dry version. I dry roasted the chenna in a non-stick pan until it was about to become grainy and then shaped it. While it did taste fine, I prefer the softer version, and that is what I am sharing below.

Chenna is essentially a milk solid, with the whey removed. Also known as paneer or Indian cottage cheese, it is high in protein and calcium and is popular in so many Indian dishes, from sweets to curries.

As I have mentioned in my blog before, milk is considered an important food for the gods and almost all communities use milk to prepare sweets as offerings. Milk is considered sacred in India, perhaps because of its relationship with the cow. Veganism is beginning to catch on here, but milk remains a key ingredient in our sweets. As you know, I have been going more and more vegan myself, and I feel that it’s high time that almond milk or coconut milk become more popular here. Below is a traditional recipe, however.

This delicious sandesh is very quick and easy to make if you have chenna/paneer handy, which most Indian homes do. I recall how on one of my Kolkata visits, I happened to get to see an entire chenna market. Huge piles of it were sold there. Just like there are exclusive flower markets and so on, an exclusive chenna market made sense because of the popularity of the ingredient. I had noticed how the famed Bengali sweet culture was dairy-based, and clearly there are reliable sources where stores can purchase their key ingredient daily.

This chenna vendor posed for me that day, and I watched him work for a while. I was intrigued by how the chenna is wrapped in leaves and newspapers instead of plastic packaging, a wonderful way to use biodegradable materials.

A Spanish friend of mine whom I met on the day of the photoshoot had a serving of my sandesh and remarked that it tastes a bit like cheesecake! I would think it’s somewhat lighter than cheesecake, both in terms of richness and how it sits in the stomach.

Not long ago, I mentioned panch-phoron and wanting to explore more of Bengali cuisine on my blog, and this soft sandesh is an auspicious start to more such culinary journeys…

Soft Sandesh

(Yield: 15-20 pieces)

 

1 ½ cups chenna (paneer)

¾ cup powdered sugar (coconut blossom/sugar)

½ teaspoon rose water

 

I made this soft sandesh from scratch, and the chenna or paneer is easy to make it at home. In many Indian homes, we prefer homemade paneer so as to ensure quality. The following is my method to prepare it.

Boil 1 litre of milk over a medium flame in a pan, stirring occasionally. Once it reaches close to boiling stage, add 1-2 tablespoons of lemon juice. This will help the milk to curdle and the whey to separate. Do not stir too much at this point. Only ensure that it does not stick to the bottom. The milk solids will appear evidently separate.

Now, pour the mixture into a large-sized cheese cloth. Gather the ends of the cheese cloth and tie them into a big knot. Place a container below the bundle to collect the whey. I usually tie it to the kitchen sink (something you may remember from my lavender shrikand recipe). Allow it to drain for about 1 hour.

Next, place the bundle onto a plate and add some weight on top of it to ensure that it drains completely. Once drained, open the bundle. Rinse the chenna under running water, to ensure that the lemon which was added earlier is removed. Allow it to drain again (add more weight on top of it to help the process). Your chenna is now ready to use. Due to the weather in Chennai, where it’s mostly warm, I usually put it away in the refrigerator for about half an hour before preparing the sandesh.

Since the whey is high in protein, I use it to make roti dough or add it as a gravy to any vegetable being cooked that day. Very little goes to waste in most Indian kitchens!

The next stage is very simple. Place the chenna on a plate and add the sugar. With your palm, blend the sugar and chenna well together. It should be soft and pliable at this point. I’ve found that using less sugar, as I have, or using a substitute like jaggery or any other form of natural sweetener, makes it all the more delectable.

Finally, add the rose water and blend once again. Make small balls with your palm and decorate with rose petals. Store in a container. Sandesh needs to be refrigerated and consumed within 3-4 days.

You may add any flavour of your choice. Sometimes, I add saffron to the chenna and decorate it with a slice of almond. You may sprinkle cocoa powder on top after rolling it with a small piece of chocolate at the centre. You can decorate it as beautifully as you wish to, or keep it plain. There are many choices, as the light flavour of this sweet can be adapted in versatile ways. I’d love to know how you get creative with this recipe. Please tell me more in the comments!

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Recipe: Scrumptiously Guilt-Free – Sugar-Free Almond Cookies

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Every day, I wake up thinking: “What shall I bake today?” My work schedule begins with this question. By the time I walk into my kitchen, I am already excited about conducting a new trial of some kind. Whether on a whim, because of excitement over an item freshly in season or gifted to me by a friend, or thanks to setting a challenge for myself, I’m looking forward to an experiment. Often, I’ll already be thinking of how the finished dish can be styled for a shoot, even before I make it. These culinary experiments are a great source of pleasure and learning for me. In this way, the re:store repertoire constantly grows.

When the day is not cluttered with a hundred things to do, I can bake especially peacefully. I pull out cookbooks and pore over them. Sometimes it’s the beauty of the photographs that pulls me in. Sometimes it’s a single ingredient, either something exotic or a familiar one that I want to use in a special way. Most mornings, it’s something new. Something different. Even the beauty of a book on architecture or on art can excite me, reminding me of my travels and my memories. Or it could be words from a poem. Or even the colours worn by a group of people I may have seen on the street on the previous day. Something will make me reach for certain ingredients or search for certain recipes. It doesn’t always work, but even then, I enjoy the challenge of going, “Damn, what went wrong?” and finding a way around the snag during the next trial.

As I was raised in a household which observed the tradition of never eating food before it was offered to God (which meant that there was no dipping a spoon or a finger into the pot as we cooked), I learned early on how to tell on sight if a dish is ready. I can gauge if it will taste good, or otherwise. So I usually have a strong sense of how an experiment will turn out even as I’m in the midst of it. Of course, there are occasional dull moments when I feel like I’m dragging my feet, and I think something is doomed to fail, and that’s exactly when it doesn’t work at all. I’ve come to understand that space and mood are vital components for these culinary experiments. And when I get it right, I want to share the results immediately – with everyone! My friends and family get the first slices, scoops and sips. And then, there is this blog…

In addition to books, photos and memories, a well-stocked kitchen is often the beginning of inspiration for me. Many Indians love almonds, also known as badam, both for their taste and for their nutrition benefits (which include skincare, lowered cholesterol, weight management, improved eyesight and much more). In my case, there’s always almond meal or almond flour in my house, and it’s an ingredient I reach for liberally. As I’ve said so often, a belief in the goodness of homemade food is at the heart of everything at re:store. Most of the flours and powders I use in my kitchen – from turmeric to chillies to chickpeas and more – are sent to be ground in small batches at a trusted mill. The same goes for almond flour and all the others that I use in my baking.

One recent morning, my brainwave was to conduct a trial for a sugar-free version of the almond cookies that are a staple in my home. As we get older, we have to be more watchful of our food intake both in terms of quantity as well as where problematic ingredients are concerned. Sugar is a big culprit when it comes to health issues, and often the first thing that experts recommend eliminating or cutting down. Ever conscientious of eating well, I find myself increasingly attracted to desserts which use other natural sweeteners. These include maple syrup, coconut sugar, barley malt, honey and jaggery. That famous Gujarati sweet tooth can’t resist temptation. These days, I try to make sure that when my cravings hit, the treats within reach are sugar-free.

 

You know how much I love my tea-times and simply must have a crunchy bite to go with my hot drink. This is true not just for me, but equally so for my Max. The moment he sees the cup in my hand, he comes bounding up, salivating for his own biscuit.

This is what we’ve been enjoying over the past few days. An almond cookie is a classic – and this sugar-free, eggless version is one that will capture a lot of hearts. And I can assure you that it comes with Max’s stamp of approval!

 

 

Sugar-Free Almond Cookies

(Yield: 15-20 cookies)

 

1½ cups oats flour

¾ cup whole wheat flour

¾ cup maida

1 cup almond flour

1 teaspoon baking powder

½ teaspoon salt

½ cup oil

½ cup honey

½ teaspoon vanilla extract

¼ teaspoon rose extract

¼ teaspoon rose water

Preheat the oven to 150°C. Prepare a baking tray and keep it ready.

In a mixing bowl, add all the dry ingredients and whisk well. Then, slowly add all the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients. Mix them all together with your hands gently until they become one whole mass of dough.

Now, make small flat discs and place them in rows on the baking tray. Bake in the oven for 10-12 minutes or until they turn golden on the edges. Remove and allow to cool on tray for about 5 minutes. Remove them onto a cooling rack.

They are ready to serve, and if you wish to, you can decorate them with any toppings or icing of your choice.

On one of my recent Instagram posts, you would have seen another one of my successful latest experiments: pista-rose cookies, which combined two of the more popular flavours on the re:store menu. The next time I make it, I’m going to try and adapt this recipe to do so, replacing almond meal or almond flour with pistachio meal or pistachio flour.

With the kinds of cravings for sweetness that I have, finding and incorporating sugar-free desserts into my meals is a necessary, healthier choice. These sugar-free almond cookies are also eggless, as you may have noticed, which makes them the perfect choice for vegetarians. Vegans may opt to substitute honey with a sweetener of their choice. As I said earlier, this recipe came about through a process of experimentation. What next? As I write this, I’m already wondering: what about an almond kachori? Innovative uses of readily available ingredients are practically a daily adventure for me now.

Since I’m not giving up the crunchiness that I need with my cup of tea anytime soon, I’m delighted to have these sugar-free almond cookies around. After all, they are not only free of sugar, but in being so, also free of guilt!

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Recipe: A Cooling Shot Of Strength – Raisin Kalkand (Crystal Sugar) Syrup

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In my recent recipe for a barley lime drink, I mentioned how my sister and I were anaemic while growing up, and how we were subjected to a range of homemade remedies to improve our condition. When she and I reminisce about the good old days now, we often laugh about all those horrible tonics and preparations, and very fondly remember one we actually loved. In fact, many children would, because of its delicious sweetness. The “medicine” in question was the raisin kalkand (crystal sugar) syrup, a simple health-boosting tonic our mother often prepared for us.

We would be given this first thing in the morning during the summers because it’s a highly cooling drink, in addition to its strengthening properties. Dehydration is something we’ve all become mindful of given this heat. But it’s also important to consume foods and beverages which have a cooling effect on the body. The science of Ayurveda has helped us identify many of these. As I’ve said before, I don’t know how much of it was science and how much of it was intuition, but my mother had an amazing skill when it came to knowing the heating and cooling properties of various ingredients. So she made sure that the raisin kalkand syrup was a summertime drink for us. It’s cooling both in terms of what’s in it and how it’s made.

Life was so different back then, when we were growing up. We were all so dependent on natural remedies, avoiding pills, and were no less healthy for it. These are ways of life which are being forgotten. Do you remember growing up in that time, in which mothers and grandmothers always seemed to know what to reach for in the kitchen to not just treat but even cure all kinds of common ailments?

In retrospect, I appreciate those kinds of healing methodologies and natural sciences all the more. They followed traditional customs, had seasonal logic, and maintained health in the family and community. I have become a big believer in these remedies, and many trips down memory lane have helped me bring some of them back into my life. This health-boosting turmeric shot and this herbal tonic for sniffles are but two examples of how a handful of common ingredients can make you feel all better.

Still, I must admit that I struggle sometimes to maintain and share the old ways of healing, especially when it comes to my children and how fast-paced their lifestyles now are. But that’s partly why I feel it’s so important to revive and invest in these methods. They counter the demands of the world through their time-honoured and proven usage. They were not passed down through so many generations for nothing. For small complaints, they often work like a charm.

And as far as charms go, this raisin kalkand syrup is a particularly sweet one. Literally! You’d be hard-pressed to find a child who will reject a shot of it.

Like so many old recipes, the secret to this one lies in its simplicity. Fennel seeds are a source of iron, histidine and folic acid, zinc, magnesium, potassium, Vitamins C and K and essential minerals. Black raisins too are full of iron, thus increasing haemoglobin levels, and are also good for bone strength, immunity and a host of other needs of growing children.

Furthermore, there is a process of soaking which brings out the nutrients in the raisins and the fennel. This takes place in a terracotta pot, an ancient cooling method that continues to be a part of Indian kitchens. This amazing, energy-efficient refrigeration technique is also great for curd, water and so many items which are best served cooled in the hot summers. Adapted for both adults and children as a sort of raisin and fennel juice, this syrup that I liked to gulp in a shot from my childhood is an ideal drink to cool down in the heat.

You may be wondering how sugar, which so many nutrition-conscious people regard as a big no-no, could be such a major part of a home remedy. Its presence in this recipe is neither for reducing bitterness nor for making it more palatable for children, especially since delicious raisins don’t need to be (literally) sugar-coated like certain other nourishing ingredients. The use of kalkand here is only for a cooling effect, just like the terracotta pot. A substitute like jaggery would have a heating effect, and is better avoided.

This raisin kalkand syrup is best taken in the summer months, and joins an ever-growing list of heat-fighting drinks on this blog, including rose sherbet and spiced buttermilk.

Raisin Kalkand Syrup

(Yield: 1 cup)

¼ cup black raisins

1 lump crystal sugar (optional)

2 tablespoons fennel seeds

1 cup water

 

A terracotta pot was always considered a must by my mother when making this cooling syrup, so it’s still a part of my own method. Put all the ingredients in a small terracotta pot, including the water. Soak overnight or for a minimum of 6-8 hours.

Please note that the sugar quantity is really a question of personal preference. If you have been advised to cut down on it, you may use less or omit it from the recipe.

Once the soaking process is complete, blend the soaked ingredients with more water.

The beauty of how this drink was made was that it was lovingly crushed by our mother’s hands, because we didn’t have a blender around yet. Now of course, I blend it but then strain it with a muslin cloth just as she did. She would use an old saree of hers which had been worn to tatters. Ever resourceful, she would cut pieces from used clothing and keep it for such purposes.

Using a fine muslin cloth, strain the blended mixture well. Squeeze the liquid into a glass. As children, we loved drinking it like a shot, although you may prefer to sip it. Enjoy at room temperature and preferably fresh. This recipe serves one. Increase quantities as desired to serve more.

With all the bitter remedies that we were forced to spoon down growing up, this raisin kalkand syrup was not only a tasty respite, but also a beautiful metaphor on balance. It served to teach us something important about life itself, and finding ways to make it sweeter. And that’s the lesson that comes to mind as I share it with you today.

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