Made for each other – Lauki and Chana

This post was waiting to be written for the last few days and not the least because I am hosting MLAA-34. As a host, it would be rude of me not to cook a legume based dish. Yet, every time I sat down to write, some distraction would occupy me before I had to call it a night. Yesterday, it was this rant of Sandeepa over at Bong Mom's Cookbook. She took the words out of my mouth when she questioned why women swoon over a husband who does simple chores around the house and call the woman he is married to lucky.

As one of those “lucky woman” I can tell you, my better half does do a lot around the house, from making the weekly vegetable stock, to making the daily morning tea, unloading the dishwasher and cooking the  occasional risotto. But he does the chores around the house for the same reasons I do the rest of the drudge work and duties of a chauffeur, teacher and entertainer for our five year old. It is a marriage and a partnership where everyone pitches in to the best of their abilities.

As a gesture of appreciation for all that I do around the house, he tries to keep the work stations clean and dishes to a minimum when he cooks. I, on the other hand, cook his favorite vegetables, as and when it suits my fancy. Like lauki (bottle gourd) cooked with chana dal, which incidentally is also my favorite way of eating this bland vegetable. I like my chana to have a bite to it but since he likes his mushy, I make a concession for him and pressure cook the concoction to his liking. I do draw the line at his mom’s bhakri which is a thick tortilla made with stiff dough of whole wheat flour mixed with turmeric, red chili powder and plenty of oil. It takes a lot of muscle to roll out those delicious rounds of dough and after one try, I decided I did not care much for making them.

Lauki, dudhi, bottlegourd.

Capture by: Manisha of Indianfoodrocks

The lauki chana dal sabzi, on the other hand, is quick, almost fool proof and is a “made-for-each-other-combo”. At least that is what I wrote when Manisha put up her photo of lauki dal on Facebook and my comment got an instant ‘like’ for it. So Susan, here is, hopefully, the first of my at least two submissions to your brilliant event.

Lauki Chana Dal

Ingredients:
4 cups of lauki , peeled and cut into bite size chunks
1/4 cup chana dal, soaked in water for at least 2-3 hours
1 small tomato, cut into chunks
1/2 vegetable stock or water

For tadka or tempering:
1 tsp cumin seeds
1/2 tsp asafetida
4-5 cloves of garlic, minced fine
1 tsp turmeric powder
1 tsp red chili powder
1 tsp dhana-jeera (cumin coriander) powder
1 tsp garam masala or sabzi masala
Pinch of sugar
Salt to taste

Method:
Heat 1/2 tbsp of oil in a 3 or 4ltr pressure cooker. Add the cumin seeds, asafetida and minced garlic. Turn down the heat so the garlic cooks and softens but does not burn. Add the turmeric; stir it till the raw smell turns fragrant.
Drain the water from the chana dal and toss it in the garlic, cumin, and turmeric infused oil. Add a dash of salt, stir, and let cook for two minutes. Add the red chili powder, dhana-jeera and garam masal. Stir and add the chopped tomatoes. Cover and cook on medium heat till the tomatoes get mushy.

Cross section of dudhi/ lauki/ bottlegourd.
Courtesy: Indianfoodrocks

Add the chopped lauki, salt to taste, mix everything gently. Add the vegetable stock and bring everything to a gentle boil. Put on the lid and pressure cook for one whistle.
Wait for the pressure to subside, transfer the dal lauki to a serving bowl, garnish with coriander and serve with rotis.

Note: The spice proportions are what work for me. However, lauki being a bland vegetable as well of varying sizes, feel free to add more of the red chili or garam masala if you like it spicier. The above proportions are for the big lauki I had, which yielded four cups chopped.

If, for some reason, you do not own a pressure cooker, cook the lauki and chana dal in a lidded pot. Cook till the chana dal is tender and the lauki is cooked through.

A reader of mine in India once wrote to me that she found my baingan bharta bland because she followed the exact spice proportion in the recipe. I will reiterate what I told her, “Taste buds in our family are somewhat dulled from living in the US. Always go with your normal proportion and gut when adding spices and/or heat to any recipe on this blog, unless stated otherwise.” So, go ahead, don’t hesitate before adding that extra pinch of garam masala.

A guessing game for the tea party

My heartfelt thanks to all you lovely people who took the time to pause and read this post and then give you precious comments. I have had fun making this for Anita’s Tea Party. It was my first time attending and it was a blast. However, amidst all the fun was the backdrop of plagiarism and blatant lifting of copy and pictures, not just by fellow bloggers but by long standing institutions (?) like TOI. (Read her powerful post here.)

It is easy to stamp your feet and proclaim that a recipe does not have a copyright, especially if it is specific to a particular region or cuisine. However, there is copyright infringement when ingredients and sometimes the method of preparation is lifted blatantly and passed off as their own. I have never had the misfortune of my copy being lifted, and frankly I don’t know whether to breathe a sigh of relief or to feel slighted at the insignificance of my blog.

But ask a blogger whose content was stolen and she will tell you it is like slaving over a ten-course meal the whole day and then have the mother-in-law take the credit for your hard work. I sure would not want to be in either of their shoes, which is why I try my best to give credit where it is due. And if you, my dear readers, have ever felt tempted to pass off on giving credit, be aware. It is a small knit community and sooner or later you will be caught and exposed for it. So, go ahead and copy past that link you have been debating about. Link Karma is a powerful thing and it will come back to bite you or reward you, depending on how you treat it.
Now, back to the tea party...


“Hey, I’m leaving work now. Will be home in another 45 minutes,” he said over the phone. “Got another surprise for me?”

“Well, it wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you, would it?” she asked with a smile in her voice. “Drive safe,” she said and hung up the phone.

A few weeks ago, when she started their little game of “guess what’s for tea?” she didn’t think it would come back to haunt her so soon. It had started out of a desire to connect with a man she barely knew. She would call him when he was driving home in his car and they would play the guessing game till he reached home.

The first time they played it, she had found a neat trick, while surfing the net, to make batata vadas without getting her hands dirty.  He wasn’t much of a tea person and he didn’t care much for the fried stuff either. She, from the land of kachori and poha, missed the fare and the company. She would sit in the cold apartment and think back on the days when relatives and friends mingled and chatted over cups of hot tea in her parent’s two bed room home.

He, from the same land but without her attachments, was happy with some dal-chawal-sabzi-roti. But he had gradually got used to her waiting with the tea. “Now,” she thought happily, “he craves that cup of chai as much as I do.”

The batata vadas were a gamble, but she couldn’t have chosen a more opportune time to make them. It had been raining the whole day and by evening the clouds had ceased their pitter-patter. A cool breeze had picked up and the air smelled of wet earth. He had come home to find the apartment smelling of fried vadas and ginger infused chai. He had guessed right on the third try that she was making something deep fried.

Him, “Is it round or clumpy?”

Her, “It is round.”

“Is it yellow in color?”

“Yes.”

“Is it batata vada?”

It was almost too easy that first time. After that, she had to get creative each time, if not with the snack then with the hint. Like the time she told him it was something baked.

He had guessed everything from cakes to muffins to scones. “Well,” she had said when he looked at the chutney sandwich, “I meant the bread was baked. I didn’t say I baked it!” He had started laughing at her guile and she was happy and emboldened.

Today, she was in trouble. He was expecting a Q&A and she had zilch. She opened the fridge and spotted the cilantro-mint chutney from two days ago. “Nah, we had sandwiches yesterday.” There was half an onion wrapped in saran wrap. She was still getting used to the supersized onions of this land. She missed the small, red bulbs of her homeland that tasted sweet and sharp and pungent at the same time.

She banged the door of the fridge a bit harder than she wanted to and started rooting around the various cabinets. Her eyes lighted up as she saw the red and gold packet sitting forlorn in an upper shelf. “How did I miss this?” she said out loud.

She was transported back to her mother’s kitchen, trying to decipher the chatter from the hallway beyond and keeping an eye on the pot of boiling tea. Her mom was calling out to her to bring out the big kadhai where she and her sisters were sitting around gossiping. The smell of onions and cilantro and something else she couldn’t remember. The laughter and the talk as someone tossed and mixed everything in the big kadhai. Her mom scooping out the spicy goodness in stainless steel bowls. An aunt straining the tea into the mismatched tea cups.

She jumped when she heard the phone ringing. She had been clutching the red and gold packet for ten minutes. “Hello,” she said into the phone.

“It’s me. I am fifteen minutes away. Sorry couldn’t call you before for the Q&A,” he said on the other end.

“That’s ok, just come on home. I haven’t decided what I am making. We can just have toast and biscuits,” even as she said the words she realized she knew what she was going to make for this tea party.

She put a small kadai on the cook top and started dry roasting the puffed rice. The onion was unwrapped and chopped. A few sprigs of cilantro floated in a glass of water as she put the tea to boil in a saucepan. She reached for her Aaji’s dabbas and quickly added the sugar and tea leaves to the water.

She found a small tomato that she deseeded and chopped. Half a cucumber was stripped of its dark green coating, deseeded and cut into fine cubes. She almost reached for a sharp green chili but decided against it.

She took the now crispy puffed rice off the flames and mixed it in with the Haldiram’s khatta mitha, some bhujia and a handful of neylon sev. She looked up at the watch before reaching for the mint chutney in the fridge. “Five more minutes,” she thought as she started mixing the onions, tomatoes and cucumbers in the kadhai.

She looked over to see the water boiling, changing from a light tan to a dark brown color. She quickly added a splash of 1% milk and grated some ginger with the tiny grater her mother-in-law had given her.

The cilantro was demanding attention. She lifted the sprigs from their water bath and patted them in between two paper towels. As she chopped the cilantro over the mix, she smelled the heady smell of onions, cilantro and the salty-sugary-spicy aroma of the mixture.

“Almost like that day,” she wondered aloud and then remembered that there was something still missing. “It is not the mint chutney,” she thought. That was her addition; just like the dried cranberries she had found hiding behind the packet of raisins. What was it her mom had added that day? It was there, she knew, at the tip of her tongue. She could almost taste it, smell it, but it remained elusive.

“Ah well,” she shrugged as she took the tea off the heat. She heard the front door open as she started to strain the tea into the two mugs. And then it hit her, chat masala. How could she not remember chat masala for chat?!

The two sat down on the balcony with the tea and the big bowl of bhel. He popped a spoonful in his mouth and chewed it slowly, letting the flavors mingle and sing on his tongue. As he reached for some more, he said, “You know, this is what you should take to Anita’s tea party. It is perfect.”

Chole Palak, not an authentic Punjabi recipe

This is an old post, that almost got lost in the archives of my word documents. It was written in response to Supriya's query if I had the recipe for chole palak on the blog. The chole palak in question were the pairing for the Tibetan bread that he had made. This then, is the old write up with some new reference added in for freshness.

What kind of chole masala do you use? If it is the store bought, then what brand do you prefer? I prefer Sanjeev Kapoor’s Chole Masala. It doesn’t have too much salt and the spices smell fresh. If you make your chole masala at home by roasting and grinding spices, then please share and send it to Aqua, who is hosting this month’s B2B for me. Interested to host it, email me here.

In the past, my attempts at making authentic Punjabi chole, the kind that are immersed in thick, black gravy and the garbanzo beans so soft you could break them with the touch of your tooth, have failed miserably. Before you ask or venture, yes, I have tried Anita’s recipe and mine didn’t even come close to what hers looked like and I am pretty sure they didn’t taste like hers either. I will chalk it to my inability to follow a recipe to a T or the lack of patience with the bhunoeing of the spices.

Recently, Manisha wondered here why the chole gravy needed to be black?  I have not the faintest clue. For me, it brings back memories of lunches I have had as a teenager at Pujabi friend’s homes. The chole were almost always served with white bread and I have to admit the combination was awesome. To this day, if I am eating chole by myself, I toast two pieces of thick sourdough bread to eat with it.

But I digress. A few months ago, in an attempt to finish off a bunch of spinach leaves in danger of wilting in the fridge, I added them to the boiling chole gravy. To my delight, the pinkish/ yellowish gravy started turning black and by the time the spinach was cooked through I had the chole of my dreams or at least the color I desired. Though they did not taste like the authentic version, they looked every bit as good. And since then, I make sure I have spinach on hand before I soak garbanzo beans.

A few weeks ago, with no spinach or any other green to turn my chole black, I resorted to the original tea leaves method. Lurking in an overlooked corner of the kitchen I had found a half empty box of tea bags. I popped one in the cooker with the soaked chana and eight whistles later the beans were all black and soft and ready to eat as is.

Encouraged, I followed Anita’s tip and roasted the onions and ginger garlic paste with the chole masala (store-bought) till everything was a luscious black color. Added some fresh tomato puree which did nothing to change the color of the gravy and then added the darkened chana to it. The result was exactly what I wanted and it looked and felt like what Anita would have made, I think. We had it again with the Tibetan bread and it was good to the last bite.

Here’s my Indian pairing for his Tibetan bread.

Serves 2

Ingredients:
1 can garbanzo beans or 1/2 cup of dry beans soaked in plenty of water overnight
1 tea bag (black tea)
1 small onion, chopped fine
1 small tomato, chopped or pureed
1 tbsp ginger garlic paste
1 tsp chole masala/ garam masala
1/2 tsp dhana jeera powder (cumin-coriander powder)
1/2 red chili powder
1 bunch of chopped spinach (optional)

Method:
Pressure cook the garbanzo beans with the tea bag for 6-8 whistles or whatever it takes for your cooker to get them cooked through.

Heat a tablespoon of oil. Add the onions and sauté till almost brown and fragrant.

Mix in the ginger garlic paste and the dry spices (chana masala, dhana jeera and red chili powder).

Cook on medium low heat till the raw smell of ginger garlic and the dry spices turns fragrant. Continue cooking till everything starts looking dark and mysterious.

Add the chopped/ pureed tomato and cook for another five minutes. Do not under any duress add canned tomato puree. It is way too tomatoey and will change the color of your gravy from a dark black to a muddy pink.

Mash a couple of tablespoons of chickpeas in the cooking mix and stir. Add the cooked chana and the liquid it was cooking in to the onion-tomato mix and boil on medium till the gravy turns thick, about 20 minutes more.

If using spinach, add at this point. They will turn the gravy even darker. Serve with roti, naan, bread or rice.

Manisha made Rest of the World Chhole.

The chole palak go to Simona of Briciole who is hosting Susan's MLLA #26. 

Before I leave, here's a shout out to Sra, who is there for me via email when I need to bitch about another blogger trend I am not happy with. Check out her blog for some "humor" and some amazing fiction, if you are feeling down and low.

Another shout out to Jacqueline who has started The Food Blog Diary to chronicle the numerous events and giveaways happening in the blogosphere. She graciously put both my events on the blog within hours of receiving my email.

A tale of independence, Baingan Bharta and Global Kadai

Mrs. Mohini Kamath was chopping a mountain of onions while the two big eggplants cooked in the oven. She brushed away the tears trickling down her face and started on the garlic. She always liked to mince the garlic with some chopped onions mixed in. With the heat of the oven, the tiny apartment had become cozy and she started humming a Bollywood tune as she washed the tomatoes and started chopping them.

“Aren’t we in a good mood?” she said to herself as she peeked into the oven to see if the eggplants were charred. She decided to give it a few more minutes before she turned off the oven. “They won’t have the same smoky flavor as back home but it is better than cooking it in the microwave,” she had explained to Naina the first time she oiled and put the eggplants in the oven.

Naina didn’t know how to cook. All she managed in the mornings, before Mrs. Kamath arrived at her apartment was a weak cup of tea. “I have to give it to that girl. She listens when I tell her something which is more than I can say of my own flesh and blood.”  She remembered how she had told Naina to grate some ginger in the tea and boil it a little longer. Now, stepping in from the harsh winter outside, Mrs. Kamath arrived to a hot, steaming cup of adrak wali chai (ginger tea).

“My own daughter-in-law never offered me a glass of water,” she thought as she took some wheat flour and started kneading it with water. She did not realize she had stopped humming and was kneading the dough with a ferocity that would have surprised her if she could have seen herself.

It was ironic, she thought, how a cup of tea offered by stranger could make her feel appreciated. “Is that what happens when your family disappoints you?” she wondered.

“Aunty, this is so yummy!” Naina had come looking for her in her room. “How did she know I made the food?” She could overhear the guests appreciating the food she had slaved over all day, crispy Aloo Tikkis, spicy Baingan Bharta, creamy Aloo Dum, hearty Palak Paneer, subtly flavored jeera rice, Vegetable Pulao and cardamom infused Shikhand.

She waited for her son or his wife (that’s how she thought of her nowadays) to tell everyone that she had made the food. But all she heard was her daughter-in-laws’ “Thank you,” in that exaggerated accent she put on in front of company, as if she was the one who made all that food.

“Why are you in your room Aunty? Come out and meet everybody,” Naina had implored her. How could Mrs. Kamath tell her that she had been instructed by her son to stay in her room till the party was over and all his friend’s had gone home? She wanted to believe it was “his wife’s” instructions he was following, but she knew that it was as much her son’s wish as hers.

“Ma, you must be tired after all the cooking. Why don’t you rest in your room while the party is on? You will get bored anyways,” he had said but she knew what it really meant: “You are good enough to cook the food but not meet my friends.” She had been banished with a movie to watch on the small television in her room. Now, this strange girl had strolled into her room with a knock and was asking her to come out.

“Na beti (daughter), I am tired. I want to watch this movie and then go to bed,” she had tried to muster a smile but her lips failed her.

“That’s ok aunty, I understand,” Naina had said with a knowing look and went away.

She had come back a few days later, when Mrs. Kamath was alone in the afternoon. “Aunty, I was in the neighborhood and thought I will check on you. May I come in?” she had asked.

Eager for company and a friendly voice she had let her in. Over a cup of tea Naina told her what she had come for.

“I know I am asking you this behind your son’s back but if I asked him, he would just turn me down. I was wondering if you would cook for me and my husband. We both work long hours and we love your cooking. We will pay you $600 a month,” Naina had said.

Mrs. Kamath had never in her life thought she would cook for other people for a living. She had lived a comfortable, middle class life in India, taking care of the house and raising a son while her husband worked. She had never felt the need to work the way some of her friends did, delegating cooking and household chores to maids. Then, she had looked down her nose at them. “That is karma for you,” she thought. If two years ago someone had told her she would be living in this foreign land and considering cooking for young couples who did not have the time or know-how to cook, she would have scoffed.

After her husband’s death, she had started to feel lonely and when her son asked her to move to US with his family, Mrs. Kamath accepted immediately. It took her all of six month to convert her savings to dollars, sell off the house and move into her son’s house.

“What a mistake that was,” she muttered as she remembered how her status in her son’s house had been reduced to that of a maid who cooked, cleaned and laundered. If only her son had more time to sometimes sit with her and chat. Or if the grandkids would gather around her and hear the stories she had wanted to share. Instead, they would go from school, to different activities and in their free time watch TV rather than spend time with their “old” grandma.

“What do you think, Aunty?” Naina’s voice had brought her back from her reverie. “Like you said beti, I don’t think my son would like that,” she had replied with a tight smile.

“Will you at least think about it?” Naina had asked her before leaving.

It had taken several months for Mrs. Kamath to finally decide to leave her son’s house. In the end, she figured she might as well get paid and appreciated for what she did for free every day.

But before she could leave, she had to learn how to drive. Mrs. Kamath smiled as she thought of the day she had asked her son to teach her how to drive. “Beta (son), then you or bahu won’t have to bother with groceries and supplies,” she had reasoned. She had surprised herself with her guile. Once she had her driver’s license her independence would be complete.

Naina and her husband, Ajit, had helped her get a cheap apartment and a few of their friends had hired her as a cook. She brought Ajit’s ten year old reliable car and she was all set to embark on her new journey.

She had figured out that with her savings and her income from cooking for a few families, she could live comfortably. On weekends, she had started babysitting, not only to supplement her income but also to while away her time.

Her son and daughter-in-law were not happy at what they perceived was her desertion. “What will people think?” was her daughter-in-law’s concern. Her son tried to dissuade her in his own way. “How are you going to manage by yourself? You don’t know enough English to get by. Why do you want to leave?”

How could she tell this son of hers why she wanted to leave and be on her own? All her life she had always put the interests of others before her and she had been happy to do it, or so she thought. Here, in this land, away from relatives and friends, she finally had a chance to try it out on her own. She wanted to do what she liked doing best but with dignity and respect. Mrs. Kamath knew her son wouldn’t understand. She could only hope that one day he would. Till then, she had the baingan bharta to finish.
(End of fiction)

This piece of fiction, written for Of Chalks and Chopsticks, conceived by Aqua and hosted by Sra, is based on some of the older women I have come across in the US. They work here as cooks and nannies. For many of them, food is the only tie that connects them to their roots back home.

Mrs. Kamath’s Baingan Bharta (eggplant mash)

Ingredients:
1 large eggplant
1 tsp of cumin seeds
1 tsp of turmeric powder
1 big onion, chopped fine
1 green chili, chopped fine
5-6 cloves of garlic, minced fine
1/2 tablespoon of ginger-garlic paste
2 medium sized tomatoes, chopped fine
1 tsp of dhana-jeera powder (cumin-coriander)
1 tsp of garam masala
A handful of peas (optional)
Cilantro for garnish

Method:
Heat the oven to 350 degrees. Oil the eggplant, put it on a cookie sheet lined with foil and bake it in the oven for 20-25 minutes. Turn off the oven and leave the eggplant in the cooling oven.

Heat a couple of tablespoon of oil in a heavy skillet. On medium heat, add the cumin and turmeric, stir for a minute till the turmeric starts smelling fragrant.

Add the green chili and chopped onions. Cook till onions turn translucent, about 5-8 minutes on medium heat. Halfway through, add the chopped garlic and the ginger-garlic paste.

Toss in the garam masala and dhana jeera powder as the ginger-garlic paste starts giving off a delicious aroma. Stir for a few minutes before adding the peas and the tomatoes. Cover and cook till the tomatoes are mushy and the peas are tender.

Meanwhile, take the eggplants out of the oven and gently peel off the charred skin. The oil should make it easy to peel. Chop the skinless eggplant, making it as mushy as possible.

Add this to the cooking tomato-onion-peas mix. Add salt and cook for another ten minutes before turning off the heat.

Garnish with chopped cilantro and some lime. Serve with chapattis or rice.

*********

July has not only been one of the hottest months in our neck of the woods, it also has been a busy month for me. I have been constantly falling behind in my posts. This story should have been up and running by 31st of July but since I was running late, Sra graciously let me submit it before she did the roundup. If you liked my story and want to read an excellent piece of fiction on first love, head on over to her blog.

Speaking of which, my roundup for the B2B event will be up after the 5th of this month. So, if you have any last minute entrees, send them in.

Is it against the protocol to announce another event before the roundup? I don’t know, but Cilantro’s Global Kadai rules stipulate that I announce it on the first of August. So sticking to the rules of the host, I would like to challenge you to Indianize tofu. There is a wide array of possibilities here, for example, substituting paneer with tofu to make palak tofu or making tofu stuffed paranthas instead of aloo paranthas. If you live in a part of the world where access to tofu is limited or nil, try making your own, like this. With so much creativity out there, I am pretty sure there will be some great recipes. Here are the simple rules:

1. Make an Indian recipe using tofu as the main or one of the ingedients.

2. Include a link back to this post and to Cilantro's original post.

3. Make sure the recipe is an original one. If it is adapted from another blog or a recipe book, give it its due credit and link.

4. The last date for submission is September 1st. If you are late by a couple of days, email me at this address. If I haven't posted the roundup, I will accept and include your entry.

5. Older posts are welcome as long as you link them to this event announcement and Cilantro's. No need to repost them.

6. Don't have a blog, but have a great recipe to share? Email it on the above address with your name, location and the name of the dish. You will get your name on the blog and we will get another recipe for our collection.

One pot Masoor-toor dal (lentil soup)

If you are a dal/ sambhar purist click away from this post.
If you soak your lentils everyday and cook it in the big 5 ltr pressure cooker with rice in the bottom pan, click away.
If you chop your tomatoes, veggies and cook them in a separate pan before adding the cooked lentils to it, click away.

If you want to cook your lentils in 30 minutes and eat them too, stay and read on.

I grew up watching my mom soak the toor dal and rice every morning in the cooker inserts. The whistle of the five liter cooker meant it was eight in the morning. As a teenager, it was my job to set the cooker and then the whistle didn’t always go off at eight.

Flash forward a decade and some years: I was in a new country with a three liter cooker, no inserts and a husband who insisted I cook the food for the whole week over the weekend. That didn’t sit too well with me but as a compromise I would cook about 3 cups of lentils and keep it in the fridge for the week. I never got used to the gelatinous layer that forms on top of the cooked, refrigerated dal but I learnt to live with it.

Last year, I watched fascinated as a friend chopped some tomatoes, cooked them in her small cooker, added the soaked toor dal and turned on the lid. Lo and behold, the dal was ready in 30 minutes, steaming hot and ready to go from the cooker to the table.

It revolutionized my whole approach to making dal. Since that fateful day, I have made toor, masoor, moong (spilt and whole) and a combination of these in the cooker and the result has never disappointed me.

Ingredients:
1/4 cup masoor
1/4 cup toor dal
2 medium tomatoes, chopped

A pinch of sugar
Cilantro for garnishing

For Tadka:
1/2 tsp asafetida powder
1/2 tsp mustard seeds
1 tsp turmeric powder
1/2 tsp red chili powder
1/2 tsp cumin seeds
3-4 curry leaves, optional
1 green chili, chopped
1 tsp sambhar/ garam masal powder


Method:
Wash the two dals together in plenty of water and soak them in some water.

Heat the small pressure cooker and add half a tablespoon of oil. On medium heat add the asafetida, turmeric and the mustard seeds. As the mustard begins to pop, add the cumin, green chili, curry leaves and red chili powder.

Let the spices cook for half a minute, taking care not to burn them.

Add the tomatoes, sugar and sambhar powder. Cover and let cook till the tomatoes are mushy.

Add the soaked dals with the water, adjust salt and water, cover and cook on medium heat for three whistles.

Once the cooker cools down, open the lid and whisk the dal to a smooth consistency. Add more water if needed. Transfer to a serving bowl and garnish with chopped cilantro.

Serve with rotis/ rice.

This of course goes off to MLLA 24 hosted by A little bit of Spain in Iowa.

Something old, something borrowed, something green

Palak Paneer (Cottage cheese in Spinach curry)

How do you come back after more than a month of hiatus? First order of business: Update 359 Days of DSM, which had been gathering cobwebs since I decided to hang up my blogging gloves and pick up US Government and History books. DSM is almost updated. It took almost two weeks to update a month and a half of clicks. As of today, only three days remain to be uploaded. Fruits of procrastination are not sweet, believe me!
Next, to figure out blogger in draft and revamp DSM to look all spiffy and hi-tech like, err... the other spiffy and hi-tech blogs.
While in the midst of updating a daily blog (yes, I am aware it is an oxymoron) and revamping the original blog, I decided to do a quick Google search for Kothimbir Vadi (roughly translated, steamed cilantro pudding?) and landed on Nupur’s One Hot Stove and almost sizzled with excitement over her The Adaptation Edition. A perfect come back for yours truly who has a hard time following a recipe to a T.
Besides, the way I look at it, Indian cooking is versatile enough to substitute chole masala instead of garam masala and add cream cheese instead of heavy cream in a restaurant-style curry. The result is unpredictable but rarely, if ever, undesirable.

Take note all those Nay-Sayers who think Indian cooking is too involved. Most of the time, a teaspoon or two of garam masala, some turmeric, red chili and mustard and/or cumin seeds is all you need in your pantry to cook up Indian food.

Potatoes with tomatoes (Bazar jaisey aloo)

The unassuming name hides a simple but delicious combination of potatoes cooked with tomatoes and ginger. A recipe similar to the north Indian aloo ka jhol (potatoes cooked in a watery gravy), this one is from Madhur Jaffery’s book, Climbing the Mango Trees, our book club pick for the month of January.
If you have ever wondered what the true definition of a ‘Foodie’ is, read Madhur Jaffrey’s Climbing the Mango Trees. A childhood memoir of growing up in a privileged, upper middle class family surrounded by uncles and aunts and numerous cousins, not to mention a retinue of servants who cooked for the extended joint family, tended trees and vegetable gardens surrounding the house and in general fetched and ran errands.

However, Jaffrey’s memoir narrates more than anecdotes of a privileged life spent eating meals that consisted of pheasants shot down by her hunt-loving family and seekh kababs from Delhi’s famous Chandani Chowk. The book also gives an insight to her lifelong love for Indian food and makes you appreciate her relentless passion for introducing and promoting the Indian cuisine to the world through her countless cookbooks and TV appearances with the likes of Juila Child and Ming Tsai.
When every sad, happy, angry or joyful memory is associated with food, a foodie of the first order is formed. And there in a nutshell is Jaffrey’s ‘Climbing the Mango Trees’.
Is it then sacrilegious to admit that till now, I had never cooked from any of her cookbooks, or to say that I found most of her recipes, especially the meat ones, a bit complex to prepare? Or was it that I was just too lazy to make boondi (which my mom made on a regular basis) from scratch when it was readily available in the store? Whatever the reason, I steered clear of Jaffrey till our book club choose ‘Climbing the Mango Trees’.

I added turmeric out of force of habit and ended up with a yellow curry instead of red!

Reading the book was like eating through a culinary feast of simple Indian greens and hearty meat curries cooked to perfection and served with phulkas, “chapati’s more refined, upper class cousin.” Some 32 odd recipes at the end of the book, from kheema samosas, to green chutney and fenugreek greens with carrots cover maybe 10% of the feast served in the book.
The recipes are to keep, especially if you are a vegetarian looking to make non-vegetarian dishes or vice-versa. I decided to stick to my mostly vegetarian meal and made Potatoes with Tomatoes (Bazar Jaisay Aloo), the go-to-meal for Jaffery family’s picnics and Sunday breakfast. The meal cooks in a jiffy if the potatoes are boiled and ready. I served them with ‘Phulka’s’ for a change instead of its ‘coarse, lower-class cousin’ and our standard bread, Chapati.

Potatoes with Tomatoes
Serves 4-6

Ingredients:
6 medium sized potatoes
3 tablespoons olive oil
Pinch of asafetida
1 ½ tsps whole cumin seeds
1/2 tsp whole fennel seeds (I used a tsp and crushed it coarse)
1/4 tsp whole fenugreek seeds
3 whole dried red chilies
3 medium tomatoes, grated on the largest hole of the grater
1 ½ tsp finely grated fresh ginger
Salt to taste

Method:
Boil the potatoes in their jackets until tender and allow them to cool. Peel.
Pour the oil into a wide, medium sized pan, and set it over medium-high heat. When it is hot, put in first the asafetida, then the cumin, and finally the fennel, fenugreek and chilies.
Two seconds later, add the grated tomatoes and ginger. Stir-fry until the tomatoes turn a deep red and the oil begins to show, turning down the heat as the cooking progresses so nothing burns. Add 1 ½ cups of water.
Now, break the potatoes by hand into pieces that are, very roughly, ½ inch cubes. They will be different shapes, but that is the charm of the dish. Add the potato cubes to the pan together with salt, then stir and bring to a boil.
Cover the pan, turn the heat to low, and cook gently for 12-15 minutes, stirring now and again.

Other members of our book club reviewed and were inspired to make:
Simran made Phirni
Curry Leaf made  Roz Ki Gobi
Sheba made Cauliflower with cheese
Janaki made Palak Gosht
Aqua made Tahiri

The year errr… nine months in review

In an ideal world my last post of the year would have also been my 100^th post. But my world is anything but ideal so even though I was reaching hard for a century, I fell short by four posts.

As I write this post, there has been a second helping of snow in Texas. Technically, this is the third time it has snowed but the first time it was just for a few hours. The second time we had snow flurries the whole day and when it stopped the snow stayed on the next day. We had enough to make a snowman and have a snowball fight. Of course, we didn’t do it cause it was cozy and warm inside.

But I digress. Coming back to my eight months in review that starts in the month of April. I remember it was the beginning of spring and I felt it was a good day to start a blog. Of course, like all things I do in my life, I did not give it much thought but jumped right in.

Sabudana Khichdi

I was on a high after having mastered the art of making sabudana khichdi from a friend just days ago. I was making it every weekend and felt like sharing the secret to a non-sticky sabudana khichdi with the world. The picture was taken as an afterthought on the dining table, with my son’s toys scattered around.
A few other random recipes followed, some with pictures, some without. I was yet unaware of all the other amazing food blogs out there.  I just went exploring through the ‘Next Blog’ button. That is how I chanced on Dips’ Centaur Cooks. Through her, I found Vaishali’s wonderful, passionately vegan blog, Holy Cow, Recipes from a Vegan Kitchen.

Following few comments led to Supriya’s tasteful Red Chillis and the Holy Grail of Indie blogs, Jai and Bee’s Jugalbandi. Jugalbandi's monthly photo event was one highlight of my monthly posts as I tried to take better pictures every month. I am most proud of this one:

My aaji's teapots

Of course, RC’s Food World blog aggregator introduced me to a whole new world of blogging. One blog led to another and soon I was chasing blogs like one tries to count the stars. In the end, I had to curb my enthusiasm and detox myself of the wonderful but addictive world of blogging.

Mint Chai and a book review

By then I had also found the world of food events and there came a time when everything I posted was with the intent of entering in an event. I become obsessed with it to the point of exhaustion. You just have to look at the months of June and July. I was in full swing, with every post geared towards an event.

Batata Ros

Thankfully, I got out of that phase quickly. Now, I do enter a few events but I don’t stress myself out.

August was the result of my putting on a few pounds and logging my eating habits for the whole world to see.
By the end of that month, I was spent and two pounds lighter. I was also learning to relax with my posts and not try to force myself to write.
September was the month to brew some old memories and long forgotten recipes, not to mention two cathartic rants.

Sevainya Kheer

October saw fewer posts but by then I was no longer worried about posting something every couple of days and was taking my time with each post.

I had discovered Sra’s witty blog When my soup came alive and Manisha’s Indian Food Rocks the previous month. It was Diwali time by then and a total of my seven posts had either Diwali recipes or an entry for Sra’s unique The Write Taste event. Rock on Sra!

I would have completed the 100 post mark in mid December if I had been more active in November (only 4 posts!). But I was busy with going back to school (College for non USA reader), my final papers and presentation.

Moong dal dosas

I even missed my monthly book club review, This Book Makes Me Cook, that I had been religiously doing every month since July. It is a wonderful group of bloggers, headed by Simran of Bombay Foodie, who choose and review a book at the end of each month. We also try to create a recipe based on the book. If you would like to join our book club, drop a line to Simran or any of the other members and we will welcome you with open arms.

Gingered tomato soup

December started with only 10 posts to go and a steely resolve to hit the century.  Of course, the gods of fate conspired with a fun filled family holiday spent visiting children’s science and history museum and planning for my son’s fourth birthday.

So here I am, at the end of December, with four more posts to go but no more days left in the month.

It was still worth it though, making friends over the blog and meeting them on FB. Finding out about networked blogs (Thank you Vaishali) and trying to take better pictures of the food.

I will be remiss if I don’t mention a very witty blogger and now a good friend, Ann of Split Pear Personality. I met her through the book club (correct me if I am wrong Ann) a few months ago. If any one can make a recipe read funny it is Ann. Check out her left over Shepherd's Pie or the Counterfeit Appams.
Last but not the least, a special mention goes to Sangeeta of Banaras ka khanna, who despite personal adversity cooks delicious, regional foods from her kitchen in Delhi and puts it on her blog for the world to benefit from. You are a hero Sangeeta. Keep on blogging and smiling.

This brings us to the end of my post which is being shipped off hurriedly to Srivalli’s Best of the Year, just before the deadline ends.
Hopefully, the next two weeks will see me hit the century post.
Here's wishing everyone a very happy and prosperous 2010.

Gingered tomato carrot soup

Due to a shopping list error my fridge received an additional bag of vine ripe tomatoes. To take advantage of the bounty of tomatoes I had no choice but to go the soup way. Also, I thought it was a nice way to honor Maurice Sendak’s (upper left corner) ode to Dec in his Chicken Soup with Rice poem – “with soup bowls draped all over me”.
A chicken soup would have been a more fitting tribute but I am sure he will forgive me opting for a tomato soup instead.

Caution: This soup does not taste like your regular restaurant soups, where the flavor and taste of tomatoes is masked by heavy cream. It is tangy with a hint of sweetness from carrots and a subtle zing of ginger and green chilies.
One hot cup of this soup is being sent off to Harini of Tounge Ticklers who is hosting Meeta's Monthly Mingle this month.

Ingredients:
8-10 vine ripe tomatoes
2-4 large carrots
2 green chilies (vary according to heat preference)
1 big chunk of ginger
1 tbsp cream cheese (substitute with cream)
3-4 tsp sugar
Salt and pepper to taste

Method:
Wash the tomatoes, carrots, green chilies and ginger. Chop the carrots, chilies and ginger in big chunks.
Put everything in a pressure cooker with some water and cook for one whistle. Turn off the heat and let cool.
Alternatively, bring to boil everything in a big pot till the carrots are fork tender and the skins of tomatoes start to peel.

Remove the skins off the tomatoes. Blend the tomatoes, carrots, chilies and ginger in a blender till smooth.
Transfer to a big pot and add the water left over from cooking the tomatoes etc. Whip the cream cheese and add to the soup with sugar, salt and pepper to taste. Boil till desired thickness is achieved.
Transfer to soup bowls and serve hot with some crusty bread or sandwiches.

Notice the white flecks of cream cheese? Can be avoided by whipping it before adding to the soup.

Note: I added a tbsp of cream cheese, which sounds decadent but is guilt free at 45 cal divided between 6-8 bowls of soup.
4 tsp of sugar seems like a lot but it helps to cut the sharp acidity of the tomatoes.

Sprouted whole Moong Usal

And how to sprout moong beans?

One hot, humid day, I forgot to grind my soaked moong dal rice mix and it sat on the counter the whole day. The next day I found my whole moong was sprouting tiny buds. So, I grinded the mix for my dosa and then proceeded to soak some more sprouted moong dal for my usal (not to be confused with usual).

The process of sprouting beans/ legumes is easy but does take time so planning a day or two ahead is necessary. Here is the easy 1-2-3 step to sprouting beans (okay, so there are more than three steps to doing this. But it is still easy).

1. Soak in plenty of water for 8 – 10 hours or overnight.
I used 3 cups of water to soak 1/2 cups of moong beans

2. Drain all the water. The beans will have doubled in volume and become plump and soft.

3. Take a damp cotton towel/ dish cloth and dump the moong beans in the center. Loosely wrap the ends around, put it in a covered pot and keep it in a dark, warm place (ex. under the stove top, in the oven or covered by a bigger pot).
4. Forget about it for 24 – 30 hours.

5. Take out the bean pot, open the dish cloth and behold glorious sprouted moong or any other beans of your choice.

You may be tempted to ask, “Why go through the trouble of sprouting the beans?” and here’s my answer. The benefits of sprouting beans are many. The sprouting process not only doubles the volume of the beans it also increases the vitamin, mineral and protein content of beans and decreases the calories and carbohydrate content. Plus they taste good even raw. So go ahead and sprout some beans today and cook them the usal way.

The usal is just a simple sauté of onions, garlic and tomatoes with some garam masala thrown in for good measure. For the purist in search of the authentic, adding a little grated coconut will achieve the desired result. I usually omit it in pursuit of retaining the earthy flavor of the moong beans.
Supriya of Red Chilies recently posted this version of cooking moong beans which is also super easy and tastes delicious.

Ingredients:
1/2 cup moong beans, sprouted
1 small onion, chopped fine
1 tomato, chopped fine
2-4 garlic cloves
1 tbsp grated coconut (optional)
1 small potato, chopped into cubes (optional)
1 tsp mustard seeds
1 tsp cumin seeds
1 tsp turmeric
1 green chili, chopped fine
1 tsp garam masala
Cilantro for garnish

Method:
Grind the onion, coconut (if using), tomato and garlic cloves.
Heat a tablespoon of oil in the small, 3 liter pressure cooker. Alternatively, use a pan with a tight fitting lid. Add the mustard seeds and lower the heat when they start popping.
Add the cumin seeds, green chilli, turmeric powder and garam masala. Let it cook for 30 sec before adding the onion-tomato paste.
Cook till the raw smell of onions turns fragrant and the watery paste turns thick. This should take about 10 min on medium flame.
Add the sprouted moong beans, adjust the water and put the cooker lid on. Turn off the heat after one whistle.

If using a pan, add the tight fitting lid and cook for about 20 minutes or till the beans are cooked through but not mushy.

Transfer to a serving bowl and garnish with chopped cilantro. The usal can be eaten as a side with dal and rotis or as a main dish with rotis.

Notes: If cooking in a pressure cooker, make sure to turn the heat off after one whistle. If not the beans will still taste good but will not hold their shape and will be mushy.

If using, add the cubed potato before adding the onion-tomato paste. Coat it with the spices and cook for a few minutes.

The sprouted moong bean usal goes to Susan's MLLA-17, currently hosted by Sra of When My Soup came Alive.

Tomato Onion Chutney for T&C

This is my first time participating in Taste and Create, an event started by Nicole of ForTheLoveofFood and currently hosted by Min of BadGirlsKitchen. I was paired with Padmajha (she is known as PJ to a lot of you) and loved the chance to explore her blog Seduce Your Taste Buds.
Recently, T has developed distaste for all things coconut so making PJ's delicious tomato chutney from PJ's blog was a no-brainer. It was tangy and little bit spicier than I expected but it was consumed with relish.

Ingredients:
1 ripe tomato, roughly chopped
2 onions, chopped
2 tsp gram dhal
1 tsp Urad dhal
3ct dry red chilies
2 tsp oil
Salt to taste

For tadka or seasoning:
1 tsp oil
1/2 tsp mustard seeds
1/2 tsp cumin seeds
3-4 curry leaves
A pinch of asafetida

Method:
Heat ½ tsp of oil and put in the gram dhal and urad dhal. Fry till golden brown and keep aside.
Heat the remaining oil and put in the tomato, onions, red chillis and cook till the onions are soft and the tomatoes are mushy. Keep aside to cool.
In a blender, grind the dhal first and then add the tomatoes and onions. Grind to a coarse paste and transfer to a bowl.
Heat oil for the seasoning and add mustard seeds. As they start to pop, add the rest of the ingredients and turn off the heat when the curry leaves start to crisp. Pour the seasoning over the chutney and serve.

Seduce your taste buds with Taste and Create

This is my first time participating in Taste and Create, an event started by Nicole of ForTheLoveofFood and currently hosted by Min of BadGirlsKitchen. I was paired with Padmajha (she is known as PJ to a lot of you) and loved the chance to explore her blog Seduce Your Taste Buds. Since she lives in China for the time being, her blog has nuggets of Chinese cooking, street food and culture. It was a treat to explore a facet of country and life I have little or no knowledge of. If you want to see China from the eyes of a South Indian foodie, hop on over to PJ’s blog. A lot of you do know her through the themed events she hosts regularly. Those of you, who don’t, check out her blog.

Pressed for time I made some simple but delicious recipes from her blog but I will be going back for more soon. I made Aqua Fresca, Tomato Onion Chutney with lentils and Vata Tea.

Refreshing Watermelon Fresca

The Watermelon Fresca was a result of a lot of leftover watermelon not to mention never having had fresca of any kind. I loved the refreshing sweetness with just a hint of the tanginess of lemon added to it. Just like PJ, I did not add any sugar to it.

Ingredients:
2 cups cubed watermelon (I used seedless)
1 tsp juice of a lemon
Sugar optional

Blend the watermelon and lemon juice in blender till smooth. Serve chilled.