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For us here in India, this is the time of year when we get lovely, fresh vegetables and fruits throughout the country. Most of them have brief seasons – at most, a couple of months. When we have a period like this when the weather is gentle and the markets are full of just-harvested goodies, it’s a time to be appreciated. Even here in Chennai, it can feel a little chilly in the best way nowadays: the way that calls for soups and warm beverages and a feeling of coziness. Today I am sharing a soup that has its base sweet potato, which is available year-round, but which I feel is especially delicious come December.

This also happens to be that short window between Diwali and Christmas when one isn’t feasting with friends and family, and can therefore focus on more mindful and lighter eating. This spiced sweet potato soup ticks all the boxes. It is given its piquancy through garlic, ginger, pepper and shallots and has the sweetness of its core ingredient elevated through coconut. It is nourishing, filling and perfect to enjoy in this pleasant temperature. Ginger is a warming ingredient, which is just what is needed. It’s important to eat appropriately for the weather, and Nature tends to give us exactly the kind of produce we need for specific times and climes.

It really is such a pleasure to pick out ingredients for a soup, which is a dish that can contain just about anything. I’ve chosen very simple and accessible ingredients for this one, but you can play around and come up with a recipe or a style that suits your tastes. The sweet potato is baked before blending, so if you follow the method below, you could choose to replace it with carrot or pumpkin, or any other vegetable from their families.

Truly, and not just for this recipe but for any cooking you do at all, there is such a treasure trove of harvests to explore out there. I’ve been taking quite a lot of domestic flights lately, and I think many of us are flying within the country more than ever before, for work, for leisure, or to visit loved ones. Wherever I travel, I head to the markets and explore what is seasonal and local there. For instance, I just returned from Ahmedabad with bags full of lovely vegetables that we don’t get in Chennai, along with lots of fresh lentils and millets that are grown in Gujarat. It is similar wherever I go. I find it such a thrill to visit a bustling vegetable and fruit market, no matter where I am, and even if I don’t make any purchases (since not everything can be carted back), I will at least be photographing the produce. I admire them and enjoy the colours and scents and even learning about the crop through talking to people. I usually either come away with something I can cook with once I’m back home, or else with images that preserve the memory of that trip forever. I also sometimes return with my curiosity piqued. For example, I’ve been seeing water chestnuts lately but don’t really know how to use them except in a salad. I’m eager to find out how, and will share a recipe if I hit on something really good.

Speaking of memories, soups weren’t really a big part of my growing years, because they don’t suit the Chennai weather for most of the year. Now, of course, our palates have become more diverse and we have begun enjoying not only warm soups like this one, but even cold ones like gazpacho! It’s all about picking the right one based on time, place and occasion.

Sweet Potato & Ginger Soup

(Serves 2)

2 cups chopped sweet potato
6-8 garlic cloves
1 tablespoon minced ginger
5-6 shallots
2 tablespoons olive oil
Salt to taste
¼ teaspoon pepper powder
1 tin coconut milk
1-2 cups vegetable broth

Preheat the oven to 200°C. Place the sweet potato, shallots, ginger and garlic cloves on a baking tray. Sprinkle with salt and drizzle olive oil. Mix using your fingers.

Bake in the oven for 30-40 minutes or until the vegetables are tender and slightly charred.

Remove the tray from the oven and once the sweet potato, shallots and garlic have cooled a little, blend them in a mixer jar along with the coconut milk and 1 cup of vegetable broth. Use more if making a larger quantity.

Remove from the jar. Taste and adjust the salt and pepper if required.

Top it off with a squeeze of lime if you would like to add more tang. Garnish the soup to your preference (I used coriander leaves and roasted pumpkin seeds). Your spiced sweet potato is ready to serve, and just right for the season! You can explore more of my soup recipes here.

The thaali as a concept is very common across Indian households. It is basically a meal with a variety of components, and the composition of each thaali varies depending on the region. It used to be a daily affair in many households, but in contemporary times more and more people have opted for lighter or more quickly prepared meals with fewer dishes involved. There is still a Gujarati thaali served in my home for lunch every day, but as my adult children set up their homes, I don’t see this happening. The thaali then becomes much more occasional and deliberate, and perhaps even festive. For that reason, I felt it would be ideal to share what goes into a Gujarati thaali with Diwali just a few days away.

A Gujarati thaali essentially contains roti, rice, a grain, a kachumber (which is a kind of salad), one or two vegetable dishes and a sweet. These are the basic elements. In my home, I do a rather non-traditional thing and eliminate the sweet dish more often than not. However, on special occasions like my mother-in-law’s birthday, a shrikhand will be included in the thaali. If I am doing trials ahead of sharing dessert recipes for this blog, those will show up there too. There’s an exception to this no-sweet tweak: when it’s mango season, aamras (sweet mango pulp), will be present on a daily basis. Of late, I am offering seva to Shrinathji at home, which means that there is prasadam once a week, and this goes into our thaalis too.

This brings in novelty now and then. The regular thaali can also be made more exciting with the addition of something like sabudana vada, paniyaram or yam chips, which can be prepared ahead of time and served again at tea-time as snacks. I tend to avoid fried goodies in my thaali, but these little things can make lunch more worth looking forward to now and then.

The regular thaali itself can be something really important. It is said that eating together itself holds families together, and I am a believer in this adage too. When it comes to something like a thaali, or any meal that is put together on a daily basis, it therefore becomes a part of the bonds that a family shares. My husband works nearby, so it is convenient for him to pop home for lunch on most days. My children are all far away, but when they come home, there is always a hot thaali available at lunch, and while they may have something else prepared if they prefer, the traditional option is always available.

I am so glad that my kids still honour a request we made when they first moved away, which is that they all return home for certain special occasions. They are made all the more special because of the effort taken. After all, that’s what family is about – taking that extra step to bond and to build love that holds for generations to come.

That brings us back to the festivities. Diwali happens to be one of those celebrations that we all gather together for, which is one of many reasons why it is one of my favourite festivals. I’m eagerly anticipating how in just a few days, over the dining table, there is going to be so much camaraderie, noise, chatter, shouting, fighting and affection – each in the right portions, exactly like a thaali should be presented too. Our Diwali lunches are one of the highlights of the year, and an elaborate thaali is always served. Having this experience, year after year, is something I wouldn’t trade for the world. This is the spread in the thaali this year: peas pulao, bottle gourd thepla, raita bhindi, mixed dal, simple salad, potato roast and of course the once-annual laapsi for dessert. I am happy to share this year’s thaali with you too. Most of these recipes have already been shared over the years, and are linked below along with two new ones for your enjoyment.

I would also like to take this auspicious moment to share something that I’ve been working on for a while. This year, this blog turned 8 years old, and it has really been a journey of growth, discovery and enjoyment. Over time, I have grown in my conviction about my own work, encouraged by well-wishers like you. I am happy to share that I will soon release a cookbook, featuring selected recipes from this blog along with an array of new ones. I want it to be a keepsake that can be passed from hand to hand and from kitchen to kitchen. First and foremost, it is so that my children will have something solid through which to reminisce about their growing years and their family, and to replicate some of their comfort foods and festive favourites. Beyond that, my book will also be for you – and for everyone who loves the experience of preparing a meal. I’ll share more about this project in the coming months. In the meanwhile, I wish you and yours a wonderful Diwali!

Gujarati Thaali

Bottle Gourd Thepla

Mixed Dal

Salad [make a simple one of your choice; for more elaborate ones, see the archive]

Roast Potatoes

Laapsi

Peas Pulao

1 cup cooked basmati rice
1-inch stick cinnamon
2 cloves
1 cardamom
1 star anise
Salt to taste
½ cup cooked/tender green peas
½ teaspoon cumin seeds
1 tablespoon ghee

Heat a pan. Add the ghee and once it is hot, add cumin seeds. Once they splutter, add the cinnamon, star anise, cloves and cardamom.

Sauté and then add cooked green peas, cooked basmati rice and salt. Mix well and gently until it all comes together. Your peas pulao is ready.

Bhindi Raita

1 cup curd
¼ cup finely sliced bhindi (okra/lady’s finger)
Salt to taste
2 tablespoons coconut pieces
1 green chilli
½ teaspoon cumin seeds
½ teaspoon + ¼ teaspoon oil
¼ teaspoon mustard seeds
2-3 dry red chillies

In a blender jar, grind together the coconut, green chilli and cumin seeds until coarse. Set aside.

Heat a pan and add ½ teaspoon oil. To this, add the finely sliced bhindi. Allow to cook on a low flame until the vegetable is golden and slightly tender on both sides.

In another bowl, add the curd with the ground coconut-green chilli-cumin mixture, along with salt. Mix well. Add the sautéed okra and mix gently. Refrigerate until serving.

In a heated pan, add the remaining oil, mustard seeds and red chilli. Temper and pour on top of the raita before serving.

Whether you make all the dishes at once and serve them on a thaali, or try them out one by one, I hope that you’ll find much delight in this year’s Gujarati-style Diwali thaali!

Maharashtra and Gujarat are neighbouring Indian states, so there is a great deal that is shared between them. Many Gujaratis migrated to Bombay in generations prior and adapted to its culture, as a part of my family did too, and certain customs overlap as a result. A similar climate means that certain types of produce are grown in both places, which then of course go into the cuisines. Like poha, the sabudana vada is a dish that originates in Maharashtra but is often thought of as Gujarati because it is a staple for us too.

Sabudana vada is a deep-fried delight with a mashed potato base, and with sago pearls (made from taro root) added to it. Something that is unique about it is that it is a dish that is popular during certain kinds of religious fasts, but it is also so tasty that it makes its way into festive arrays as well. With Navaratri just having come to a close this year, and with Diwali not far away, it’s the perfect time to enjoy this crispy snack.

While I definitely encountered sabudana vada during childhood travels to Bombay, to me its most resonant memories from my growing years are from life at home in Chennai, where it was a dish that my mother prepared very often. Specifically, it was one of the few dishes that she consumed during her customary fast on the 11th day of each month, known as “agiyaras”. Other ritual-related specialties would include buckwheat or barnyard millet (“moraiyo”), depending on the event, the season and so on. There were also certain kinds of fasts in which grains were to be avoided, in which case the sabudana vada was perfect.

For any fast in which a single meal could be consumed during the day, such as on agiyaras, the starchiness of sabudana vada would offer energy through the day. It would be had alongside some form of dairy. I would enjoy these meals along with my mother while I was growing up, although I did not myself fast. She was also very connected to the Gujarati community in the city, and I would go with her when she went to the temple.

In this way, she inculcated certain traditions in me that I still have great admiration for. I have tried to pass them on to my children as well, even while I respect that they are free to choose the religious or spiritual paths that call to them – if they choose any at all. I have always felt that it is important for them to be aware of what is there, and what we as a family have believed in for generations. No matter what they decide on when they are older and wiser, a grounding exists that they can return to if they feel it is right for them.

This is because while I have an expansive definition of spirituality, I have found that the grounding that I had because of my own upbringing has given me a great deal. For instance, I take very seriously a ritual that I perform at home, which is the worship of Srinathji. I believe in the value system of family, which is why I accepted Him graciously into my home, and I follow closely all the practical customs. This is a part of my legacy from my parents, and I hope that it will be carried on through future generations. My children have observed these rituals of mine just as I observed my own mother’s devotion all those years ago.

I experience spirituality in other ways too, but this is the practical ritual that happens in my home daily. It is “seva”, or service, and I do it sincerely. The link between food and faith is also something that I contemplate. For instance: fasting and feasting always go hand in hand in communities around the world. There are so many beautiful customs out there in which abstinence and prayer are followed by celebrations – and all the deliciousness that come with these. All festivals have religious origins, even if they are more secular and may have other significance nowadays.

Still, whether you are fasting, feasting or simply having fun, this sabudana vada is a beautiful addition to your repertoire.

Sabudana Vada

(Yield: 15-20 pieces)

1 cup sabudana (sago pearls)
2 medium size potatoes
1 tablespoon green chili-ginger paste
Salt to taste
2 teaspoons sugar
Juice of 1 lime
3 tablespoons peanuts (coarsely ground)
1 tablespoon coriander leaves (finely chopped)
Oil for frying

Soak the sabudana for 4-5 hours. Drain for at least 1 hour. Set aside.

Boil and then mash the potatoes while they are warm. To this, add the drained sabudana.

Then, add the salt, sugar, lemon juice, green chili-ginger paste, coriander leaves and peanuts. Using your hands, blend everything until the mixture comes together.

Now, make discs from this mixture of 3-inch diameter and 1-inch thickness.

Heat the oil in a kadai and drop each vada gently into the hot oil. Allow to cook until golden and turn over. Make sure both sides are well cooked and brown. Drain on a tissue paper.

Serve with a chutney or sauce of your choice. I really wish I knew the recipes of all the incredible Maharastrian chutneys that sabudana vadas are served with in Mumbai. I would love to learn, and am excited about the trial-and-error process. If you happen to know some, drop me an email at indulgeatrestore@gmail.com or a DM on Instagram, won’t you?

Sabudana also features in a khichdi-like stir fry that is another favourite of mine. I have yet to master it in the way my mother had, but once I do, you can be sure that I will share that recipe with you too.

There is a universal love for paneer makhani or for paneer butter masala among those who frequent Indian restaurants anywhere. These are the two most popular dishes when it comes to paneer, and it would be rare to find an Indian eatery that doesn’t offer them. When my kids were growing up, we ate paneer makhani all over the world because that is what they ordered straightaway, without having to check a menu. You may also remember my recipe for paneer makhani, one which our relatives also learnt so as to make my son happy when he visits them. However, as much as I enjoy these dishes too, I believe that the fact that they are the standard go-tos gets in the way of exploring the wide and diverse range of paneer preparations that actually exist. My own personal favourite is kadhai paneer, or a paneer stir-fry that is so named because it is made in a kadhai (a deep, flat-bottomed pan), and that’s the recipe I am sharing today.

I recently shared a recipe for chilli tofu, and this one is distinct from that one because of the spices that I use. What makes my version different from a restaurant version is that it also incorporates some vegetables. In fact, I think this is true when it comes to most household paneer preparations anyhow, if not in the dish itself then in accompaniments. Paneer dishes I have eaten at people’s homes always tend to be healthier and to utilize more greens and vegetables rather than just paneer. When it comes to home cuisines one doesn’t usually see oil floating at the top of the gravy or other such excessive uses, which are delicious during an outing but better avoided regularly. There is more variety too, as there is so much more to paneer than what has been popularized by restaurants.

I’m a big advocate of home-cooked meals, always: you know what goes into every dish, and will take care to make sure it’s good for you and for your family. I believe there’s a world of difference between restaurant food and household preparations in terms of healthiness. All that said, one nutritious paneer dish that is also available at eateries is the palak paneer, which features spinach. Of course, if you make it at home, which you can with my recipe [hyperlink], it’s even better!

Paneer really does pair well with most vegetables, taste-wise and not just as a way to make meals healthier. Here, I have used chopped bell peppers. I usually like to cut them tiny as they look beautiful, but this time I decided to do bigger cuts. This is because bigger vegetable cuts require us to chew better, which makes our digestion easier. However you choose to cut them, I would suggest adding an array of any vegetables you enjoy, keeping in mind that a colourful presentation is pleasing to the eye, to the tastebuds and to your overall well-being too. As many have said before, “eat the rainbow”.

This will certainly not be the end of the paneer recipes that I will share on this blog, especially as I’d like to highlight more diverse preparations. I am sure there is more to come, as and when a recipe strikes, a mood hits or a desire to eat a particular food occurs. Sometimes the inspiration is creative: a visual will come to mind and I will write it down quickly so that I don’t forget, and then recreate it in a photoshoot later. For me, these recipes are so that nothing is lost amongst the memories in my head, and so that my children can retrieve them whenever they wish to – and so can you.

Kadhai Paneer

(Serves 2)

2 cups bell peppers (different colours)
1 cup diced paneer
1 tablespoon oil
1 teaspoon cumin seeds
½ cup onions (finely chopped)
2 cloves garlic
1 green chilli
1 large tomato finely chopped

1-inch ginger (grated)
Salt to taste
½ teaspoon turmeric
1 teaspoon Kashmiri red chili powder
1 teaspoon garam masala
1 teaspoon coriander powder
1 teaspoon kasoori methi (crushed)
1 tablespoon milk

Garnish
Kasoori methi
Cream (optional)
Beaten yoghurt
Coriander leaves

Heat a kadhai and add the oil. To this, add cumin seeds, grated garlic and onions. Roast until golden. Now add the green chilli, ginger and tomato. Sauté until tomatoes are tender. Add the salt, turmeric powder and red chili powder.

Add the bell peppers. Sauté, then cover until they are tender but not releasing water. Once they cook a little, add paneer followed by garam masala and coriander powder. Finally, add kasoori methi and milk.Garnish with beaten yoghurt, kasoori methi and coriander leaves.

I find that this kadhai paneer is best with plain roti and works well as a tiffin box item as well as served hot and fresh. I hope you’ll enjoy it as much as I do, and I also encourage you to explore the other paneer recipes I’ve shared here over the years.

In my last post, I shared a recipe for a delicious stuffed paratha using radish, something I first began enjoying on my trips to Delhi. Today, I share another paratha, but this one is made differently. This lovely vegan palak paratha (using spinach) is a healthy upgrade on your regular parathas, and is perfect for those who often eat flatbreads at home.

The spinach is blended into the dough directly, which gives this paratha a lovely green colour. This also means that it is an excellent way to get people to eat their greens – not just school-going children, but even young adults or anyone who is picky about them, really. I imagine that the very first palak paratha must have been put together by an inventive mother who was trying to trick her kids into getting more nutrition. So this recipe is dedicated to everyone who is on a quest to serve healthy food to their children. Another thing that helps is to make the parathas in an unusual shape, to add a touch of fun.

You would think that I would have lots of childhood memories of palak paratha myself, but I don’t, and the reason is that my mother didn’t resort to this particular trick. Two or times a week, some kind of leafy vegetable would be spooned onto our plates, and we just had to eat it. That was that. Growing up in South India, this meant that a large selection of seasonal greens was a part of our diets. I may have made a fuss about it as a child, but I am grateful for it now. As I got older, I began to genuinely enjoy the different varieties of local spinach, and I understood just how much our bodies love the chlorophyll too. If you’d like to explore a few dishes that utilise South Indian greens, you could also take a look at my recipes for purslane dal and araikeerai vadai.

Speaking of stuff that’s good for you, I like to make these palak parathas with ghee, which has begun to shake off its bad reputation and is now being embraced everywhere as a superfood. That’s right, our humble ghee that we health-conscious Indians shunned is back with a bang, and is being acknowledged as being not just tasty but also nourishing. However, I have provided the recipe below with oil so that it remains vegan. Substitute accordingly, if you prefer.

Visually appealing, full of goodness and so very delicious – what more could you ask of this dish?

I feel that this palak paratha is best eaten hot off the griddle, and it goes very well with a dry roast paneer (which I will share the recipe for soon). A dal will also pair nicely. Sometimes I have this with a small bowl of tomato soup and a few scoops of that paneer stir-fry, and everything that’s on my table looks so beautiful. The reds, the greens and the aroma of them all together make for a gorgeous meal, in every way.

Palak Paratha

(Yield: 8 pieces)

1 bunch palak (spinach)
1½ cups whole wheat flour
1 teaspoon cumin seeds
1 teaspoon sesame seeds
Salt to taste
A pinch of turmeric
A handful of coriander leaves
1 tablespoon green chili ginger paste
1 teaspoon aamchur (raw mango) powder
2 teaspoons oil
Oil for cooking

Clean the spinach thoroughly. Put the spinach in hot water for a minute. Squeeze, remove and immediately place it in cold water. This will help retain the colour of the leaves. Squeeze the water out.

Place the squeezed spinach in a blender jar and add cumin seeds, a pinch of turmeric and coriander leaves. Blend. This will give you a ¾ cup of spinach purée.

In a bowl, add 1½ cups wholewheat flour.  To this add the aamchur powder, salt to taste, chili ginger paste, sesame seeds and 2 teaspoons oil.

Now, add the spinach purée to this mixture. Using your hands, make a smooth, pliable dough with the help of a few drops of oil. Cover and set aside for ½ an hour.

Make balls of the dough. With the help of dry flour, roll these out in any shape you desire. The paratha needs to be a little thicker than the regular rotis to get the most of the spinach flavour. Place on the griddle, and ensure both sides are cooked.

Serve hot with yoghurt or pickle or a vegetable of your choice.

If you’d like to explore more spinach recipes, do try out this spinach and corn bake and this spinach rice. As for parathas, my recent radish paratha and earlier peas paratha recipes may catch your fancy too!

Let’s face it: most children dislike radish. I did too, and it was only when I was studying Macrobiotics about a decade ago that I really began to appreciate the vegetable that was known to those of us in the course as daikon. After that, I began to look at the humble Indian mooli – which we get here in pink and white, and which are used in salads, curries and sambars – differently. There’s one particular usage of it that is my absolute favourite, and that is the mooli paratha or radish paratha.

Parathas are an excellent way of getting kids to eat ingredients they may not be fond of, which is probably how this particular one came into being. The stuffings also vary across regions – in Bengal, for instance, I believe that fish is commonly used. I once had some that was stuffed only with fresh cream, which was fascinating to me. They can be made quite healthy, as well as flavourful. They don’t need an accompaniment, but a pickle may sometimes complement them.

Radish paratha is popular in North India as a Punjabi street food, and along with peas paratha is one of my two favourite versions of stuffed Indian flatbreads. To me, it is synonymous with some of the best food that Delhi – a city that I’m rarely in, but in which I have had many cherished moments and meals with loved ones – has to offer.

The radish paratha came into my life at a time when my dear friends Sujatha and Michael lived there. They would take me to a famous parathawalla near a railway station, a roadside vendor whose enterprise had grown quite large. There was always a crowd and a queue there. To me, it looked like there were hundreds of options on the menu. We would each order what we liked, and sit in the car and consume our stuffed parathas while they were hot. They all came with pickled onions, and were served rolled in a newspaper page with some kind of leaf inside it to mop up the oil. They were just such a joy to eat. Those experiences of sharing food and laughter in a parked vehicle became great memories, too.

I tried some different options out on occasion, but always came back to the radish paratha. It was absolutely delicious, and filling enough to count as a meal. That’s the thing about street food in India. The fancy restaurants have their charms, but there’s something about the food prepared by roadside hawkers and railway vendors that just hits the spot every time.

In the years since, I began recreating the radish paratha at home, and it has become fairly frequent at our dinner table. I have found that while radish is pungent on its own, it is also absorbent, which means that adding a good masala to it makes it very appealing. Try it out and see for yourself!

Radish Paratha

(Yield: 5 pieces)

150 grams radish (3 medium-sized)
Salt to taste
1 teaspoon green chili+ginger paste
½ teaspoon garam masala
1 teaspoon aamchur powder
1 teaspoon cumin powder
¼ teaspoon ajwain
3 tablespoons coriander leaves (finely chopped)
1½ cups whole wheat flour
1 teaspoon oil + oil for sautéing paratha

Clean and grate the radishes. Add ¼ teaspoon salt. Mix well and squeeze out the water really well. Set the radish water aside.

To the grated radish, add the cumin powder, pinch salt, coriander leaves, aamchur powder, ajwain, chili+ginger paste and garam masala. Mix with your fingertips.

In a bowl, add the flour and the squeezed-out water from the radish so there is zero waste.  Make a tight and smooth dough of the flour with the help of a little oil.

Now, it is time to roll out the parathas. Divide the dough into 10 small balls and set aside. Dust and roll a ball. Set aside and roll another.

Now, fill one flattened disc with 1 tablespoon of the radish filling and cover with another rolled out disc. Make sure you pinch the edges well. Using a rolling pin, roll gently over the paratha. Roll out 5 such filled parathas.

Heat a griddle and place one of the parathas on it. Allow to cook until a few spots are formed. Flip the paratha. Once it turns golden brown on both sides, apply a few drops of oil onto both sides and allow to cook until darkened. Transfer it onto a lined plate. Repeat with the remaining parathas.

Serve hot, with or without accompaniments. Yoghurt and pickle go well, but as I said the radish paratha is itself quite flavourful. It is also rather filling, so I wouldn’t be surprised if you also begin serving it for dinner, as I do.

As I’ve gotten older, the importance of increasing my protein intake has become a big part of how I plan my meals. In fact, making this a habit from when one is young can have more benefits, but as they say, better late than never. If you, like me, are on a similar health journey, and especially if you consume a vegetarian diet, this tofu broccoli rice will make an excellent addition to your repertoire.

Bringing an adequate amount of protein into our meals is not that simple, which is why I will not make any major claims about what this dish may do for you. Speaking about protein is trendy on social media right now, but the truth is that no one can give you the actual numbers and amounts other than a good nutritionist, whom you work with directly. I have been guided by one who has helped me determine my individualized protein needs based on a variety of factors and who has made sure that I have upped my consumption. I have since become much more aware in general about how to ensure I get enough.

The shift is quite a difficult shift for us, as Indians, because it has been ingrained in us for centuries that rice or roti must be the main course of every meal. Carbs form the centre of every traditional plate. I would actually suggest that we make a departure from what is traditional here and instead take inspiration from youngsters. I can see how the next generation is much more conscious about their eating habits and are choosing to change the composition of their daily thalis. It is not as straightforward as just throwing in an ingredient. Rather, it’s about tweaking all the components of the meal, and the specific portions. So, while this dish contains rice, it highlights the tofu, which gives us protein, and the broccoli, which gives us fibre. When I prepare it, I include 30% tofu, 30% broccoli and 40% rice, rather than 60% rice as I would have in the past. These small adjustments are a great way to start incorporating larger amounts of protein into our regular cooking.

I would also have used paneer rather than tofu earlier, and I include myself when I say that getting Indians to shift from paneer to tofu is another challenge in itself! Paneer is always regarded as the ultimate dish at a vegetarian table. The Indian reverence for milk plays a part, but so does the fact that the higher fat content in paneer does make it tastier. Still, tofu is a fantastic replacement, and the trick is to cook it separately, adding specific flavours to it, as I’ll describe in the method below.

In addition to tofu, soyabean chunks and tempeh are also great protein-boosting vegetarian options. Nowadays, I can vouch for excellent organically produced soya on the market, and also that there is quite a variety of brands available.

This tofu broccoli rice is bursting with goodness already, but you can also turn it into a Buddha bowl by adding a few more ingredients. You can also check out the archives for some more ideas on how to put together a well-rounded meal-in-a-bowl.

Tofu Broccoli Rice

(Serves 2)

1 cup broccoli

1 cup tofu

½ cup cooked rice

1 teaspoon soya sauce

1 teaspoon sesame seeds

1 tablespoon sesame oil

Salt to taste

½ teaspoon chilli paste

A handful of mint leaves

½ cup chopped carrot

Add oil to a pan. Once it has heated, add the sesame seeds. Now, add the tofu and allow the pieces to turn golden on both sides. Add the soya sauce. Stir and set aside.

Using the same pan, add the broccoli and the carrots and allow these to cook for a few minutes, like a stir fry. Add the tofu to the pan again, as well as the cooked rice. Add salt to taste. Remember that soya sauce is already salty, so be careful to adjust the quantity you use accordingly.

Mix well and serve hot. I have added mint leaves and chopped carrots as a garnishing, and to bring more colour to the dish.

As always, I encourage you to use my recipe as a base on which to design your own. I often reiterate about using up what’s already in your fridge or your pantry, so feel free to replace broccoli with another vegetable or even several other vegetables. As for the rice, here’s a tip: fried rice always tastes best when it has been cooked the previous day, chilled, then stir-fried.

Of course, you may want to replace rice altogether with quinoa or another grain. Personally, I have gone with small grain white rice as I find it quite flavourful and believe it works well with tofu. In my mind, the two ingredients are associated with South East Asia and certain travels and experiences there. Bringing them together feels intuitive to me. Food is often like that, is it not? Even when fulfilling our nutritional requirements, we can also fulfil our nostalgic meanderings, and of course, our cravings too.

I would describe a doddaka as being a kind of cross between a dosa and a roti, and some version of it exists in numerous cultures in India, including in Goa, Karnataka, Maharashtra and even Gujarat (my mother-in-law used to make that version). As with both dosas and rotis, numerous variations in preparation exist. I experienced a lovely bottle gourd doddaka a few months ago, and even though I’ve been travelling a lot this year and haven’t spent as much time cooking, I keep thinking about it. So I decided the other day to try out the recipe myself. It came out well, and as always, I wanted to share the deliciousness with you too.

I encountered this bottle gourd doddaka while we were zipping around in the lead-up to my son’s wedding a couple of months ago. We had not wanted to invite people digitally, and felt that the effort of the time-honoured Indian custom – of personally visiting people and inviting them – was well worth it. On one such visit, we went to meet a Kannadiga friend of ours. Our friend’s elderly mother was present at their home. It turned out that she is a reader of this blog, and we spent time chit-chatting about food and photography.

It had been a long and exhausting day, and we had arrived at their home at almost 7.30pm, which is beyond my dinner time, and at some point during the visit we were offered a meal. Our friend’s mother made us some hot, crispy bottle gourd doddaka – and from then on, the conversation stopped being about my cooking and became about hers. It tasted marvellous, and I thought it was quite interesting from a culinary perspective too. I enjoyed it thoroughly. When I think of that evening, I remember feeling like I was at home. That was truly a comfort food experience in every way.

Whenever I go somewhere and try out a new dish, I am curious – to the point of being painful, according to my children – about how to prepare it. I will immediately want to find out what the cook did, why they did it, and how they did it. Usually, I will then try to add my own twist as well. This is not always necessary. With this traditional Kannada doddaka for example, I thought the original recipe – as shared by our friend’s mother – was just perfect, and I didn’t feel the need to change it at all.

Isn’t it beautiful how you sometimes meet a person in passing and then strike up a conversation with them that just stays with you in some way? To me, the fact that I have a recipe from that evening, and will probably always think of that family and their home when I make it, really means a lot.

Bottle Gourd Doddaka

(Yield: 8 pieces)

1 cup rawa

½ cup coconut grated

¾ cup thick curd

1 cup water

½ cup grated bottle gourd (substitute: cucumber)

Salt to taste

1 teaspoon green chilli + ginger paste

¼ cup chopped coriander leaves

Oil for cooking

 

In a bowl, add all the ingredients and mix well. Set aside. Adjust the water quantity as required – keep the batter thick yet of a pouring consistency.

Heat a griddle and add a few drops of oil. Now, pour a ladle full of the batter onto this. You will see that it spreads by itself. Allow the doddaka to cook on a low or medium flame, making sure it does not get burnt. Flip and allow to cook on both sides until well done. Continue to prepare more doddakas with the remaining batter.

Serve with a chutney of your choice. I have a range of these that you can explore, and I hope you’ll find a few in the archives that you like and can mix and match with various dishes. As this bottle gourd doddaka has quite a bit of flavour already, it can also be eaten plain if you prefer.

As you would have noticed in the ingredients, I have suggested cucumber as a substitute for bottle gourd. Both are water-based vegetables that grow through the year in South India, where we have no seasons other than summer, summer and more summers – and some monsoons. Thus, they are ideal for staying hydrated. Bottle gourd in particular doesn’t have much flavour by itself, and takes on the flavour of whatever you add to it (which makes it perfect for sneaking into soups for fussy kids). Nutrition and hydration together are an excellent combo, and when you add taste to it – as you do with a doddaka – it’s unbeatable.

I think of begun bhajan, a crisp eggplant side dish, as being pan-Indian even though I know that it originated in Bengal. That’s because I have often encountered some version of it in South Indian meals as well. My own preparation uses long eggplants, typical of this region, rather than the big round ones that are used in authentic Bengali cooking. I love slicing and spicing the vegetable up to give a kick to a boring summer meal, when the heat makes us all feel more drained and something delicious and energising is always craved.

As a student of Macrobiotics several years ago, I learned early on that eggplant is a nightshade, and therefore only to be consumed in small quantities. The ubiquitous tomato is one too, by the way. My training remains in my mind in numerous ways, because of which I still find myself using eggplants only occasionally. Perhaps that’s why I find begun bhajan all the more exciting, since moderation is recommended. I’ve tried my hand at an eggplant parmesan before as well, and will share the recipe for that sometime too.

I also have a strong preference for consuming greens, so eggplants don’t feature that often in my market shopping anyway. That said, the vegetable is quite nutritious, as it is rich in antioxidants and low on carbohydrates.

In fact, I think that begun bhajan is a healthy alternative to dhoklas, which are commonly eaten in Gujarati households like mine as a tasty accompaniment. Of course, mangoes do the same job in this weather, but believe me when I say that begun bhajan is also a great pep-me-up. Or better yet, why believe me, when you can make some yourself?

My own journey with begun bhajan began in Kolkata, at the home of a friend who always has me over for a typically Bengali meal whenever I visit the city. After the first time I tried this dish, I began making a special request for it ahead of our meetings. She keeps saying that there is such a variety of other dishes she could prepare, but this is the one that I just keep asking for. My begun bhajan is not a patch on hers, but still I make it – more so because it always evokes memories of being with her in her lovely home, full of the art she collects, and with my friend herself always so well turned out in crisp sarees. Food is a complete experience. It’s never just what you’re eating, but also who you’re with, the space you’re in, the way it’s served. I hope this begun bhajan brings you much enjoyment too.

Begun Bhajan

(Serves: 4)

1 large eggplant

Salt to taste

1 teaspoon chili powder

½ teaspoon turmeric

1 teaspoon toasted cumin powder

1 tablespoon rice flour

½ teaspoon sugar

1-2 tablespoons mustard oil

 

Rinse and slice the eggplant. If making circular slices, each slice should be about 1 inch thick. I have used long eggplants, so I’ve sliced them lengthwise, as you can see in the images.

Mix all the spices, along with the rice flour, sugar and sugar. Sprinkle this mixture onto a plate. Place the eggplant slices over the mixture. Rub the mixture in well on both sides of each slice, using your fingers to spread the spices evenly.

Allow the spices to marinate for at least half an hour. The reason why I have added a bit of sugar to this is because it caramelises and gives the dish a nice colour. I also feel that it prevents the eggplant from becoming soft and soggy.

Once the slices have marinated, heat the oil in a shallow pan. Place the slices such that there is enough space to flip them over.

Allow to cook until they are golden and crisp on one side. Turn them over and allow to cook again.

Once they are golden on both sides, remove onto a paper and drain any excess oil.

Serve hot as an accompaniment to your usual Indian meal. This begun bhajan goes beautifully with dal and rice. By the way, if you are a pescatarian, you can use the same preparation method above for fish. You can also try the spice marination out with a variety of vegetables, including parboiled potatoes and cauliflower.

In the past, I have shared the recipes for Indian-style homemade yoghurt as well as for a typically Gujarati banana-mustard-cucumber raita and a slightly elevated cucumber raita. A raita is a cooling curd-based accompaniment that is usually served with biryani or any rice-centred meals, but I find it goes well even with upma and other dishes. Raita can be made in numerous ways, and as I keep reiterating on my blog when it comes to just about any popular food item, each household, each community and each region will have unique takes. I have tasted okra raita, which is quite delicious, as well as beetroot raita, which has a lovely colour. Today, because Spring is in the air and my mood too is bright, I have decided to make a colourful mixed vegetable raita.

When I say “Spring”, in my part of the world that means that we can feel the heat beginning to set in, and are in the phase immediately before the heat truly takes over. Here in Chennai, I am able to see lovely flowers everywhere right now: from mango flowers in the trees (the fruits will soon be in season, and you can expect several more mangolicious recipes from me soon) to hibiscus blooming in my garden.

Right now, it is a joy to go to the fresh fruit and vegetable market, as a variety of produce comes into season. When I travel, this happens to be my favourite pastime no matter which city I am in. I love to explore markets, taking photographs, admiring the colours, textures and arrangements. It feels like that here in my own city too right now – where strawberries, other kinds of berries and oranges are in abundance at the local market and inspire my creativity.

So this raita captures the vibrance that is around us during this time of year. I have used carrots, cucumbers, shallots and tomatoes along with mint and coriander leaves, so the raita has a mix of lively shades.

I have mentioned in the past that the desire to consume yoghurt at every single meal is the only thing that keeps me from going completely vegan. At the moment, I am trying to reduce my intake at least. Which means that if I’m only going to have some for one meal of the day, instead of all of them, why not make that dollop or two a little more exciting? That’s where this raita really comes to my rescue, fulfilling my craving while adding novelty to my basic but essential curd.

Mixed Vegetable Raita

(Yield: 1 bowl)

2 cups curd

2 tablespoons grated carrot

½ cup diced cucumber

¼ cup chopped purple shallots

¼ cup diced tomato

2 tablespoons coriander leaves

1 tablespoon mint leaves

Salt to taste

½ teaspoon ground cumin powder

¼ teaspoon chilli powder

 

Add the curd to a bowl along with the spices. Beat well.

Add the diced and chopped vegetables. Mix well. Adjust the flavours by adding more if required.

Pour into a serving bowl and garnish with some more of the spices as well as the green leaves. Serve as an accompaniment to a wide range of dishes.

This mixed vegetable raita is so simple and so summer-friendly that I am sure you will be preparing it often over the next couple months. It will be refreshing on your plate, especially if you like me are in a part of the world that’s getting hotter by the day!