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Here in lockdown mode, due to the global pandemic, I feel now more than ever that memories, bonding, love and food are what keep us going and make it possible to manage this difficult time. I sincerely hope that you and your families are keeping well, and that my recipes will offer you some comfort.

Ever since I can remember, this traditional stuffed vegetable dish has been a part of my life. It’s typically Gujarati, in the sense that every Gujarati household makes it. Some use onions and garlic, while for others these ingredients are not permitted religiously. Some use peanuts to add more texture. This dish is true to its region, so the taste and style you experience will also vary depending on where in the state the family originated from. No matter the variant, the base recipe for this Gujarati Potato & Brinjal Curry, which can be made either as a gravy or dry, is the same.

Needless to say, it’s a favourite and frequent dish in my home today, just as it was when I was growing up. It was a trademark preparation of my mother’s. When I first got married, she would speak to me often on the phone and if she sensed that I was feeling down, she would always say, “Come home for a meal. I made your favourite vegetable dish today.” Till she was 84 years old, she cooked this sabzi regularly for me. In that last year when she was unwell, it became my turn to. I would cook it and send it to her, made with all the love I have for her and the memories she had given me, and she would enjoy it just as much as I did.

And how many memories I have of this dish! Memories of eating it at home as a child, memories of making it for my own family once my kids were born, memories of visiting Gujarati relatives and friends for a meal and almost invariably being offered their own personal rendition of it. Perhaps there was something extra special about it to me always, and maybe this was the reason why my mother recognised that it was my favourite. That was because it was always served during our Sunday lunches when we were growing up. We would all be glad for the weekend, enjoying our leisure, and this delicious concoction of potato and stuffed brinjal would fill our tummies and become associated with the joy of a day of rest itself. Funnily, for such a quintessential and ubiquitious dish, Gujaratis don’t have a special name for it. We just call it “potato-brinjal curry” in our language too!

There are certain dishes which, even if one usually dislikes the main ingredient, the magic of the preparation always sways the eater to relish it. I’ve heard quite often that people who don’t enjoy eggplant in other ways do so when they have a bite of this. (People not liking potatoes is much rarer, of course!). Whether you call it brinjal, baingan, aubergine or eggplant, it’s a vegetable that has a host of benefits, and which can be made in delicious ways so that your family receives these. This Gujarati curry, for which I will provide both the gravy and the dry options in the method below, is the perfect way to bring the antioxidant-rich, fibre-rich, nutrient-rich vegetable into your regular diet.

Gujarati Potato & Brinjal Curry (Gravy/Dry)

(Yield: 1 bowl)

½ cup grated coconut

¼ teaspoon turmeric powder

2 tablespoons cumin/dhania (coriander) powder

1 teaspoon amchur (mango powder)

1 teaspoon garam masala

2 tablespoons jaggery

1 teaspoon chilli powder

Salt to taste

½ teaspoon grated ginger/green chili

½ cup finely chopped coriander leaves

2 tablespoons oil

6 baby eggplants

3 large potatoes

3-4 cups water

First, let me share the gravy version of this dish. The dry version is provided further below.

Wash the baby eggplants. Slit them lengthwise (so that they can be stuffed; be careful not to cut completely) and keep the slices in water.

Peel the potatoes and cut them into big pieces. Set aside.

In a plate, prepare the stuffing by adding together the coconut, salt, spices, coriander leaves, ginger chili paste, and jaggery. Mix it well with your fingertips and set aside. Now, take each eggplant and stuff it with this prepared masala. Keep aside.

Heat the oil in a pressure cooker and gently add potatoes, making sure the oil doesn’t splutter. Next, gently add the stuffed eggplants over the potatoes. You will find that there is a lot of masala left over. Sprinkle this over the vegetables, leaving just a little on the plate for later. Again, gentleness is key so that the stuffed eggplants don’t break.

Now, add the water and mix the concoction – again, gently! Cover the cooker and wait for three whistles. Allow to cool, then open the lid and add the remaining masala. Stir once again. Your gravy Gujarati Potato-Brinjal Curry is ready to serve.

If you prefer a dry version of the same, follow the first three steps as above: cleaning and preparing the eggplants for stuffing, cutting the potatoes, and preparing the masala.

Then, add the oil in a kadai. Once it has heated, add the potatoes. Stir them, then cover with a lid on a slow flame. Stir occasionally, making sure they do not stick to the bottom. Once the potatoes are slightly tender to the touch and not overcooked, open the lid and add the stuffed eggplants. Remember that potatoes take longer to cook than eggplants so gauge the time well.  Cover again.

If required, especially if the vegetables are sticking to the bottom of the pan, sprinkle some water and cover. Continue to allow the dish to cook until all the vegetables are well-done. Finally, add the masala and stir gently. Cover again and allow it to sit. The dry version of this dish is now ready to serve.

As you prepare the dish, adjust the spices as per your preference. If you don’t like the standard Gujarati-style touch of sweetness, don’t include jaggery. If you want to spice it up while maintaining colour, chopped green chillies will do the trick. Don’t forget the versions mentioned at the beginning, which incorporate peanuts, garlic or onions.

No matter which way you choose to make it, I hope this Gujarati Potato-Brinjal Curry brings as much comfort and deliciousness to your home as it does to mine. As with all Indian curries, it’s perfect with rice and a range of breads. It’s got the spiciness of our masala, is tummy-filling thanks to the potatoes, and just has such a feel-good effect on the heart. Trust me: generations of Gujaratis have been turning to this dish as nutritious comfort food!

 

Being resourceful in the kitchen comes naturally to many of us, and I’m someone who has long included homemade flours and powders and organic produce as parts of my everyday cooking. To me, preparing big batches of dishes that keep well and can be reheated is just the smart thing to do. I’ve noticed that canning is a culinary and DIY trend that has really been catching on on social media. I admire the trend as it takes a lot of hard work, and requires being inventive and patient. I think it’s similar in some ways to the Indian art of pickling. I don’t seem to have the talent for canning, but I do the next best thing and make a delicious tomato purée that can be kept for several days, and used in several ways. The wonderful part of it is that it’s a very versatile item. This all-purpose tomato purée works in myriad cuisines effortlessly.

It suits kids’ cravings, adults’ larger appetites, and everything from Continental meals for those with a wide palate and traditional Indian dishes for those seeking comfort food. That it can be stored for a while is a big plus. My daughter who lives in Mumbai insists that I bring her a batch whenever I visit her, or packs a big jar into her luggage each time she returns there from home, and uses it for over the course of a whole week.

When I’m in a hurry for a curry, I just take the jar or pot out of the fridge and have a readymade base on which to build the dish. The same goes for when there’s a request for a homemade pizza, or more likely a pasta – my son is notorious for changing his mind, and my menu, last minute! So it’s great that I have something that works both ways.  Sometimes, I’ll scoop a dollop of this tomato purée into minestrone soup as well (the recipe for it will follow sometime soon).

That’s why having an all-purpose key product helps me so much. It cuts down on the prep time regardless of what I’m making that day. My tomato purée imitates the famous pasta sauce called ragú, except it is vegetarian whereas the traditional Italian recipe is meat-heavy.

What makes this tomato purée extra special is that we’ve been growing the tomatoes ourselves on our terrace. I often talk about our farm and the varieties of produce and plants we grow there, and it’s really special to me that I get to bring some of that spirit back home too. Once you get a knack for gardening, you realise just how easy is it to cultivate some of the staples we reach for in our kitchens often. Many people I know grow herbs, vegetables and even fruit trees, which go directly into their diets. We are currently enjoying an abundant harvest of tomatoes, and are putting these lovely vegetables (or more accurately, fruits) to good use in a wide variety of dishes.

I guess you could say that while I haven’t yet found the talent for canning the way the Instagrammers do it, I’ve definitely had the patience to develop other culinary skills. Tending to homegrown produce is one, and making sourdough is another. Those of you who have followed my own IG stories for a while now would have noticed my eventual success in making that complicated bread! Whenever it’s pasta night at home, I put some into the oven and bake it an hour before dinnertime. A fresh, warm loaf accompanied by this tomato purée as a dip is served alongside delicious plates of pasta, which themselves are rich with this purée in the sauce. Now, I have my sights on mastering a sourdough base for pizza. My homemade pizza has been a hit in my household ever since my kids were little, and my daughter would often take some to school (to promptly exchange for spinach rice!). Her friends still ask me for some when they all visit together, and I’d love to surprise them with a sourdough twist to their childhood favourite soon. Made, of course, with this all-purpose tomato purée as a pizza sauce. Wish me luck, and be sure to follow my journey of trials, errors and triumphs on social media!

 

All-Purpose Tomato Purée

(Yield: 1 jar)

½ kilogram tomatoes

150 grams onions

4-5 garlic cloves

Salt to taste

1 teaspoon sugar (optional)

¼ teaspoon basil powder

2 tablespoons olive oil

1 teaspoon paprika

Roast the tomatoes over a flame until the skin is charred. Discard the skin and purée the tomatoes in a blender. Set aside.

Purée the onion in a blender along with the garlic cloves.

Heat a pan and add the olive oil. Then, add the puréed onion mixture and sauté till it turns golden. Next, add the tomato purée and mix well. Keep the flame to a medium heat and stir occasionally, making sure that the mixture does not stick to the bottom and sides. Be careful as the purée will soon start to bubble. Reduce the flame intermittently. When the purée begins to reduce, add the remaining ingredients and stir well.

Some notes on adjusting the ingredients to suit your taste: change the proportion of onions or garlic depending on how you like them, substitute chili powder for paprika if that’s your preference, and adding a sprinkling of fresh basil towards the end of the reduction adds a nice flavour, if you have that ingredient on hand.

Reduce the purée until it is thick and spreadable, or to the consistency you desire.

Allow to cool and store in a glass jar in the fridge. This all-purpose tomato purée lasts for approximately a week, and up to ten days with good storage. As it keeps well, you can also adjust all the proportions to make a batch in a size that’s ideal for all the ways you may use it over the course of a week.

Whether it’s a pasta, a pizza, a sandwich, or even an Indian curry with a hint of Mediterranean flavours, this all-purpose tomato purée just adds so much convenience to my regular cooking. I’d love to know if you try it out, and I’d especially love to hear about the creative ways in which you add it to your own menu!

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!

 

My husband is from Mumbai and if you asked him what the one thing he misses the most about the city is, he would probably say that it’s a type of street food available on practically every corner there. Its presence is so ubiquitous that it is even named the Bombay sandwich. Every visit back will find him at a sandwich stall, buying his favourite food and devouring it immediately by the side of the road. Even back home in Chennai, whenever we frequent neighbourhoods like Sowcarpet and Vepery, which have migrant populations who brought their cuisines with them, he simply has to make a stop for a snack. For myself, however, I’ve always preferred a homemade Bombay toast instead.

Bombay toast is essentially the toasted version of the Bombay sandwich. Whereas the soft sandwich is flavoured with a spiced chutney, the crispy toast has the spices mixed into the potato filling. Although peas, paneer and other ingredients may be used instead, potato is the most popular as it’s a binding agent. Arguably, it’s also the most delicious filling. Street vendors will ask you whether you want the Bombay sandwich or the Bombay toast, and prepare your order on the spot. Slices of cucumber and tomato are used in both, and they’ll top it all up with a red sauce. While it looks like ketchup, it is in fact a pumpkin-based condiment that’s cheaper to produce or buy.

During my own childhood visits to Mumbai, it was chaat that was always more interesting to me, whereas Bombay toast was something that tasted better when enjoyed at home. It’s said that there’s an attractive quality to street food that makes it seem like no matter what higher quality ingredient you use at home, you just can’t replicate the taste. This just doesn’t hold true for me when it comes to Bombay toast, however. Whether it’s on a street corner in Mumbai or at a stall in Chennai’s Gee Gee Minar, what I’ve tasted has never come close to what my mother would make at home. It was a frequent after-school snack for us because it’s a perfect leftovers-based recipe. Whenever there was some potato remaining from a meal, it could go right into this simple dish. It was as equally relished then as the fresh ones I make today are.

When I was growing up, many homes had a handheld sandwich toaster. You simply placed a slice of bread on one side, added your toppings, covered the first slice with a second thickly-buttered one, and turned the toaster on. It was incredibly easy to prepare these sandwiches quickly, and I loved them eating hot and crispy. I still like to use these old toasters, making sandwiches with a variety of chutneys and cheeses. I like that old world charm of using an appliance that is hardly around anymore. Also, not only is it faster than the new electrical toasters, but you can also control the amount of heat used so that you achieve the precise amount of crispiness you desire.

While customarily a snack, Bombay toast also makes for a good, filling breakfast. I often load a platter these days with an assortment of toppings so that my family can make their own versions of it. Still, nostalgia for this dish as my mother would prepare it makes me want to share her simple, no-frills version, using a spicy potato and peas mash. As it happens, peas are currently in season. And who doesn’t love potatoes, right? Bombay toast fulfills the criteria of providing a carb boost, satisfying a quick craving, and even helping fulfill some of your daily quota of vegetables.

Bombay Toast

(Yield: 3-4 sandwiches)

 

Mint chutney

1 cup coriander leaves

½ cup mint leaves

2 tablespoons dry roasted chickpeas

1 green chilli

Salt to taste

2 teaspoons lemon juice

2 tablespoons water

 

Potato filling

1 cup boiled mashed potato

¼ cup finely chopped coriander leaves

2 tablespoons finely sliced onions

Salt to taste

A pinch of turmeric

½ teaspoon chaat masala

½ teaspoon aamchur powder

 

Slices of tomato

6 slices of bread

Grated cheese

Butter to grease

 

For the mint chutney, mix all the ingredients together in a blender. Use enough water to make sure the mixture is of a paste-like consistency. Set aside.

In a bowl, add all the ingredients for the potato filling. Mash them all together by hand until all the spices have blended in and you have a coarse mixture. This filling can also be used to make samosas and kachoris.

Following this, you are ready to assemble and then toast the sandwiches.

Place the slices of bread on a board. On half of the slices, apply the mint chutney. On the remaining slices, evenly spread the potato mixture, making sure it reaches all the corners. Now, place the tomato slices over the slices containing the potato mixture. Add the grated cheese as desired. This is a straightforward recipe, but you can play with different variants. For example, you may add sliced onions, cucumber or jalapeños onto the toast, depending on your taste. Bell peppers will also add more spice. You may also wish to make it a healthier snack by adding finely chopped broccoli or other green vegetables.

Once you’ve spread out the filling and topped it, cover it with the other slice, which contains only the mint chutney. Grease both outer sides of this covered sandwich.

Place each sandwich separately in the toaster and allow to cook until golden or well done.

Loaded with flavours and textures, your Bombay toast is ready to be served hot, and I’m sure you’ll find that it hits just the spot. If you’re a fan of street food and want to make more of it yourself, you may also enjoy my recipes for green moong bhel and sundal. I’m curious to know: do you find that street food is unbeatable in its natural environment, or are some street food classics even better when made and relished at home? Let me know in the comments!

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!

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!

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.

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.

When I was growing up, middle class culture in India was all about eating what was cooked at home. Fresh food was prepared for every meal, every day. When there were leftovers, they were always put to good use. Eating out was a rare occasion, and we didn’t have the luxury of junk food. Even snacks were made at home, and this poha roast mix – what we Gujaratis call chevdo – was one of them.

This is a snack to be consumed by the handful, with a fun mix of nuts and seasoning. The basic ingredient is poha, or flattened rice, which most Indian communities use in some way or another. My own earliest memories of it are in the form of the dudh-poha which my mother would make to take with us to the beach on Sharad Purnima nights, as well as this poha roast mix – the recipe for which I am sharing today.

In those days, this simple but addictive snack was one of my mother’s Diwali staples. I remember how she would usually make it a few days before the festival, in the evenings, after all the duties with us kids were done and we had finished our homework. But sometimes, when we were at school, she would meet with her friends and they would make everyone’s festive batches together. Nowadays, this might be called a community cooking type of get-together. To the mothers of that generation, who did not have home staff, it was so much more easy and convenient to join hands and cook. It was also a way to socialize. Occasionally, if the joint cooking happened on a weekend or at a time when the kids were at home, we would also get a chance to hang out with our own friends, and this was always fun.

The mothers learned from each other in this way. They would just be a group of 3 or 4 women, but each with her own expertise. I recall how my mother would say, for example, “This aunty’s mithai turns out very well, so this year I want to make some with her.” The homes they convened in depended on practical considerations like space or utensils. Who had the big kadai? Whose house was less crowded that day? These gatherings happened mostly around festive occasions, and I think of them as an early version of our blogs today. This is one reason why I treasure my mum’s cookbook so much. It contains all these different recipes that she learned from her friends, collected over the years through interacting with each person who shared the best from her personal repertoire.

As Gujaratis in Tamil Nadu, I think they also wanted a sense of community. Although we never felt alienated by Tamils or their culture, and grew up in our Tamil neighbours’ homes too, there was something meaningful about these gatherings. Meeting a few times a year to celebrate auspicious events in our traditional ways allowed us children to connect with language, cuisine and other aspects of the culture which were reminiscent of our parents’ and grandparents’ own upbringings.

Diwali is all about exchanging sweets and savouries, and back then there were no fancy delicacies to be ordered in bulk, either. Everything was homemade and non-commercial. Everything was simple and there was a spirit of sharing – “I give you a Diwali treat in my box, and you give me a Diwali treat in your box.”. When this group of women got together and cooked, they made enough for each family to take home, as well as to give away.

Some traditions you just have to keep. Which is why, even though Gujaratis are inventive when it comes to mixtures (and you know how much I love doing something unique to any recipe I try!), this chevdo / poha roast mix is a basic, traditional recipe. The one difference is that it is roasted, not fried. You can replace some of the ingredients based on your preference, but I recommend that you leave a hint of the sweetness in as it goes well with the crunch.

Diwali Chevdo / Poha Roast Mix

(Yield: approximately 400 grams)

150 grams poha

60 grams peanuts

60 grams roasted gram

50 grams almonds

50 grams raisins

50 grams cashew

¼ teaspoon turmeric

1 tablespoon heaped powdered sugar

⅓ cup oil + ½ tablespoon oil

1 tsp salt or as per taste

2 green chillies

A handful of curry leaves

 

The truth is that fried poha tastes fantastic, but I am giving you a roasted poha version in order to keep up with the times. With the pollution in the environment today, we must make an effort to eat healthier. This method below is completely different from the fried kind, but if you do want to try a fried variant, do try to get your hands on a special utensil which will make the process easier and less messy – a cup-shaped ladle with draining holes, into which you put small batches of the ingredients in at a time.

In a wide bottom pan, roast the poha on a low flame, making sure it does not turn brown. Avoid using a spatula to stir as this will only cause the brittle poha to break into tiny pieces. I picked up the pan and swirled it around gently, and used my hands to turn the poha around. Keep the poha moving frequently. The roasting takes approximately 15-20 minutes. Once the poha is roasted, set it aside.

In another pan, add the ⅓ cup of oil and allow it to heat. Now, add the roasted gram. On a medium flame, stir using a ladle. Once the roasted gram is golden, drain well and place on an absorbent paper.

Next, add the peanuts and repeat the roasting. Do the same to the cashew nuts and almonds, separately, as well.

Lastly, roast the golden raisins. Be careful as they will burn easily. At this point, lower the flame and once they fluff up, drain and remove them.

Now all the ingredients are ready to be assembled. On a low flame, add the ½ tablespoon of oil to a pan. Add the green chillies and some curry leaves. Once the chillies turn colour slightly, add salt, sugar and turmeric. Immediately after, add all the roasted ingredients – poha, peanuts, cashew nuts and raisins – turn by turn and mix gently. Make sure all the spices are incorporated well and coat all the ingredients. Ensure that the spices do not get burnt. This can be done by keeping a low flame and stirring the ingredients constantly as you add them.

Allow to cool on the pan. Do not cover as this may cause moisture to fall into the crispy chevdo.

Your Gujarati Diwali chevdo / poha roast mix is now ready, and it tastes especially yummy with chai. It’s my husband’s and daughter’s most favourite snack, which is why I’ve got a headstart on making it for this Diwali. I hope you’ll enjoy it, and make it a part of your festivities too. I’d love to know what you think of this delicious mixture, the recipe for which could be as much my mother’s, or her friend’s, but is now mine and yours!

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!