It is rant time on DSM

Well, what do you know? I kept my word and am on schedule for the fb rant thanks to the dark, wet, rainy morning we have today in the sunny state of Texas.  We are spoiled here with warm skies and 70^o temperatures in December.  It puts us (at least me) in a foul mood when the skies are cloudy and the weather turns dull and wet.  Contrary to what Indian poets and imaginative types would have you believe, this desigirl does not share the romantic associations that are imparted to the rainy season of the Indian subcontinent.  For me, rains always bring about images of dusty roads turned to muddy mush, damp clothes, and dark homes lit in the middle of the day with yellow fluorescent bulbs.

Keeping with the theme: a B&W for Susan.

So you will have to excuse me if I am not in the best of moods when it starts to rain even though my adopted country’s concrete and asphalt roads don’t get muddy and the only thing to fear while out and about is flash flooding.  There are no damp odors emanating from clothes or bedding. No traffic jams to navigate through, no potholes to jump over, not even open drains for the kid to float his paper boat in.  The only redeeming feature of the rainy season in India is the sweet, earthy smell that we fondly call gili mitti ki mahak (smell of wet dust).  But I am denied that in the land of concrete and grass lawns, perhaps because I prefer to stay indoors when it pours and curse and rant about the bounty of water falling outside my window.

B&W breakfast with a hot cup of tea to chase away the blues.

This brings us to the fb rant that has been long time coming.  Over the years, I have added and then edited, deleted and hidden from view friends, bloggers, and relatives for various reasons some of which are listed below.  And on gloomy days like today, I still manage to get irritated because people constantly find new ways to up the ante. 

The game fan:  I played Lexulous, the fb version of scrabble, for a couple of months with a vengeance. I was hooked on it all the time.  So believe me when I say, I understand why you play Farmville, Mafia Wars and other assorted games.  Just don’t inflict your friends with imaginary acquisitions of sheeps, horses and planting of crops.  Go work on a farm instead of bragging about that fictional crop you harvested.  And please do not feel obligated to announce your general knowledge quiz score. That is just sad.

The “I have 400+ friends on fb dude and I don’t remember if we were friends before you unfriended me so I am sending you another friend request”:  Yes, we know you like ‘friending’ people for personal glory. I just won’t be the one that tips your friend count from 499 to 500.  

The You Tube linker:  We all love a good tune but not all of us have the time to listen to ten songs you post on your wall every other day.  Spare us your refined taste in music and stop cluttering our walls.

Leafy goodness of kale for Susan's B&W



The quotable quotes person:  A long time ago, when I used to work in a small office, our bosses’ sanctimonious secretary used to send out thought of the day to the rest of us.  All we did with them was snicker behind her back and smiled politely at her when asked if we read it.  She never got the message but I hope you have. 

The religious, the political and the dietary fanatic:  I do not care what your religious, political or dietary preferences are.  Do not ask me to forward, subscribe or endorse your belief system by sharing them on my wall.  On the same note, I have blocked or hidden some of your posts if they contain graphic pictures, misleading photographs or poorly sourced articles intended to sway me in your direction.  It does not make me appreciate you or your cause. It just makes me think of you as a bully who deserves to be ignored.  You are entitled to post what you wish on your wall. I am entitled to complain about it and block it on my wall.

Cryptic word of the day:  If you have something to say, just say it. Don’t make people guess it by sighing on your wall (*sigh*), posting colon and two close ended brackets for a smile or a ‘Yay’.

The juvenile, delinquent language users:  My nephews, nieces and younger cousins in their teens substitute the word ‘da’ for ‘the’ and continue other sordid trangressions on the English language even when there is no word limit or messaging restriction on fb.  I wince and bear it because I realize they think it is cool and hip to write that way, they are young and they don’t know any better.  But there is no excuse if you are an adult who does not comprehend what the problem is when corrected.  

The ‘Like’ button err…. liker:  Yes, I know it is hard to comment on just about every post your 300+ friends post every day.  You do not have to show your presence by hitting the ‘like’ button every time, all the time.  To me that is just a shallow gesture to register your presence.  I would rather have your thoughtful comment once in a blue moon. That is not to say I do not hit the ‘like’ button occasionally. I do when I am in hurry or when words cannot express how much I liked that particular status.  

Kale in color.

That my friends, is my short list of things I have been complaining to my friends on fb for a while.  Since I was in danger of being unfriended by them, I decided to vent out on DSM and save the few friends I have left.  Do you have a rant about the social media you would like to share?  Feel free to do so in the comments below or write a post and let me know.  I will add your link to my post below. It feels good to let it all out.  I know I feel good, even though it is still a gloomy, wet day.  

The Peanut affair

Peanuts and I go a long way back to my childhood days. I think the love affair started when my sister and I used to play Ghar-ghar or house-house. Our mother would give us a fistful of peanuts and some jaggery to use in our make believe pantry. Sometimes the peanuts would be replaced by a piece of khopra (dry coconut). Watching us play, my mom was sure I was going to be a spendthrift and my sister the one who was careful with her money.

It turns out that my fondness for gobbling up the peanuts was not matched by my ability to spend money. I did not turn out to be the spendthrift like my mom feared. If anything, my friends feel I am a little bit too careful with my money.

However, I digress from the peanut affair. Raw peanuts, roasted peanuts, peanut laddoos, potatoes cooked with crushed peanuts, peanut chikki (brittle), nothing was off limits when it came to my affair with the peanut. Eleven years ago, in the country of Lady Liberty, I discovered the joys of peanut butter and another chapter was added to my peanut affair. I found out I could eat it with chocolate, with apples, spread on a whole wheat tortilla with some jam and sometimes just dip a spoon and lick it straight off the jar.

Raw peanut pods for Susan's BWW

However, I still keep going back to my favorite way of eating peanuts since childhood. In Indore, where I grew up, mungfalliwalas (peanut sellers) would make the rounds of the dusty lanes in my town during peanut harvest. He would have pre-boiled the tender peanuts pods in salty water. They would then be slow roasted in woks, filled with hot sand, set atop a coal stove placed at the end of his thela (push cart).

Boiled, shelled and roasted for Susan's BWW

He would serve them by the kilo in paper cones and we would all sit on the floor, after dinner, and devour the peanuts, splitting the shell by applying pressure on the beak. Biting down on the crunchy, salty outer layer we would savor the sweet, soft meat inside. Fresh, green chickpea shells suffered a similar fate but that story is for another post.

Today, I give you salted, boiled and roasted peanuts of my childhood.

There is no real recipe to boiling peanuts. Fill a big stockpot or a pressure cooker with enough water to cover the peanuts. Add about a tablespoon of salt for every one and a half cup of peanut pods. Boil the peanuts till tender.

Let cool and shell the peanuts. In a heavy bottom pan or wok, roast on medium low flame till the peanuts change color from a tender, pink to a crusty, salty smoky red. Cool a little bit before digging in.

Note: I have, in the past, tried to roast the peanuts in their shells. It takes a long time and a lot of stirring to get the peanuts the right consistency. Shelling the peanuts and roasting them is faster and the texture is similar to the one the mungfalliwala sold.

A tale of Ganesha

I start feeling nostalgic and missing homeland during festival time and this year has been no exception. A phone call to my brother for Rakshabandhan or Bhau-Beej, a video chat with my parents during Diwali leaves me teary eyed and wanting to jump on a flight to India. I try to compensate feelings of alienation by making corresponding festival fare and gorging myself on it. Two years ago, I attempted modaks for Ganesh Chaturthi. The crust came out chewy and rubbery but the filling of jaggery and coconut, infused with cardamom, was still worth it.

This year I could hear the beating of drums in the background as I talked to my sister back home. It was hard to hear much over the din but I gathered from her that the youngsters in her housing complex were practicing for Ganesh Chaturthi celebrations. How could I not attempt to make modaks again sitting in the quiet surroundings of my suburban home? My mother gave me her usual helpful but ambiguous tips “a little bit of rava (semolina) to maida (APF) and roll the poori thin before filling and shaping the modak”.

Making of a modak for Susan's B&WW

Based on those thin guidelines, I fiddled with the proportions and had the foresight to take notes while I made the modaks. I was delighted to bite into the crispy crust (after offering the Prasad to Ganesh first, of course) that would have made the pot-bellied god a happy camper.

Modaks for the pot-bellied one

Once fried, they are off to Susan's B&WW

It transported me back to the days when my mom would fast once a month for chaturthi and break her fast with twenty one modaks. One of those modaks was a salty one and once mother ate that she had to stop. We three kids sat close to her, watching as the modak count dwindled. We would heave a sigh of relief as she finally came across and ate the salty one. Then the three of us would divvy the modaks and send a silent prayer to Ganesha for helping her find the salty one short of ten.

Now, all grown up, I do not even think about observing the strict fast my mom kept.  However, Ganesha still has a strong presence in my household.  I have pictures and statues of him scattered all over my house.  My husband reads tales of Ganesha and other gods to our son. We, like parents of my generation, are forever grateful to Uncle Pai and his Amar Chitra Katha. Those tales (katha) are indeed immortal (amar). As much as we read those tales, when a poojari (priest) asked us the names of Ganesha’s sons we were thrown for a loop. We knew the names of his wives, Riddhi and Siddhi. But we didn’t even know he had sons let alone what their names were. The answer, when he told us, was so simple, we almost smacked ourselves in the head.

After I had my fill of the modaks I posed the same question on fb. A lot of friends chimed in and like all Indian myths, they had slightly different versions and names of Ganesha’s wives and sons. Manisha was most helpful, quoting from a book on tales of Ganesha and her tidbits made for a fun discussion. From that discussion, this tale is woven.

Disclaimer: Based on myths and tales of Ganesha and written in jest. Not intended to offend any Ganesha devotees. I am one myself and have nothing but the highest reverence, regard and love for the Remover of all obstacles.

Kindergarten Chronicles and Sprouting Arbi Fry

Past few days have been an emotional roller coaster for me. My five and a half year old started kindergarten yesterday and last week was spent preparing for school, buying school supplies, going to meet the teacher, going to buy new clothes… Every day was a reminder that my baby is growing up, fast.

When I could not find clothes for him in the toddler section, I ventured into the ‘big boy’ section. No more cute T-shirts with “Mommy’s Boy” written on them. From now on it was all solids, stripes and plaids. I almost cried on the floor of the shop except I remembered that he still liked his Toy Story backpack and I had to go look for a matching lunch box.

Fortunately, I found the TS lunch box while shopping for school supplies. Once the mile long list of markers, pencils, erasers, folders and notebooks was done, I was back at home preparing for his first day of school. Lunch was agreed upon, a PB&J sandwich, pencil box filled according to the teacher’s specification and clean socks and clothes were ironed and ready for next day.

Sprouting Taro: my entry to Susan's B&W Wednesdays

Amidst the weak long running around, I totally overlooked the arbi (taro root) lying in the pantry. It is a vegetable reserved for the kid's dad, just like this one is. In Maharashtrian households, arbi is called alu and the stir fry alu chi bhaji.  The picky eater that I was, I never did take to it.  My mom would cook it with some potatoes thrown in to camaflouge the arbi.

As an adult, my fondness for arbi stops at the musty, earthy smell that emanates from it. Unlike bhindi (okra), it is not a sticky vegetable when raw. But boil the little spuds and the starch oozes out and seeps into the water it is boiled in.  From there, it is all downhill – peeling, chopping, stir frying is a big sticky mess. The good news is that with enough frying, the stickiness goes away and the vegetable turns crispy with a meaty bite to it, not unlike crispy, stir fried boiled potatoes.

To avoid the stickiness of the arbi, you can do one of the following two things:

1. Peel, chop and stir fry the raw arbi roots. It will take longer to cook through but you will avoid a sticky mess on the chopping board and the knife.
2. Do what I do and par-boil the arbi. It will still be sticky but not as much, plus it will cook faster.

Alu chi bhaji / Arbi Stiry Fry

Ingredients:
5-6 arbi roots
1 tsp turmeric powder
1/2 tsp ajwain seeds (carom seeds)
1/2 tsp asafetida powder
1 tsp red chili powder
Salt to taste
Method:
Wash and remove as much outer fibers as possible. In a microwave proof shallow container cover the arbi roots with enough water. On high power, zap for five to six minutes. Let cool and peel the skin. Cut into thin half moons or quarter moons.

Heat a non-stick pan with a tablespoon of oil. Turn the heat to medium low and add the turmeric powder, carom seeds and asafetida powder. Give it a quick stir, taking care not to burn the carom seeds. Add the red chili powder and the cut quarter moons. Mix in the arbi with spices so that the arbi is coated evenly with turmeric powder. Add salt and cook till done through and crispy.

Serve with whole wheat tortillas or as a side with rice.



Roasted and ground 2:1

It is the middle of August and I have yet to post something for my own event, B2B – Spice Powders. So here is my first entry to my own event, a simple, basic spice used in almost every Indian kitchen.

Ever since I can remember, one day of the year in our house, my mother devotes an entire afternoon to making dhana-jeera powder and garam masala. Breakfast is a hurried affair of make-your-own-omelet, as is lunch (khichdi, a spiced porridge of rice and lentils). Once the mundane morning chores are over, the measuring, roasting and grinding of spices starts.

Aromas of gently roasting cumin, cinnamon sticks, bay leaves, peppercorns, cardamom and cloves gradually rise from the cast iron karahi, envelop the tiny kitchen, waft through the door to fill our entire house and gradually make their way to the front door to descend the stairs and into the street. The neighborhood auntyji drops by, taking in the whole spices and trying to gauge the recipe. She is too proud to ask for a recipe, the acclaimed cook that she is. My mother is too modest and unpretentious to turn her down but clever enough not to volunteer unless asked. So, the recipe remains a family secret or rather my mom’s secret.

Black and White Wednesday with Elephant Garlic

Another Wednesday, another b&w photograph. Thanks to Susan's weekly event, I am at least keeping this blog current.

These giant elephant garlic were a regular offering at our local CSA farm till the crops gave in to relentless over 100 degrees heat and some unexpected rain showers. Despite their size, the elephant garic is milder in taste to the regular garlic and actually are a varient to the species that belongs to the leek family. It was still fun to use these giant pods for cooking and as a substitute for garlic they made for interesting flavor.

Size matters

Elephant garlic (for Susan)

Black and White Wednesday with Turkish coffee

A few months ago, Manisha snagged a bargain at her neighborhood garage sale and bragged about it on facebook. The Turkish cups, also called ibrik or cezve, she had managed to lay her hands on were so gorgeous that enough though I have never had Turkish coffee in my life, I just had to have them. Two more of her friends wanted them too, so she graciously agreed to go back to her neighbor and see if she could buy some for us too. A month later, I am the proud owner of three of those fabulous cups and what better way to show them off then for Susan’s new event, Black and White Wednesday.

ibrik 1 (goes to Susan's event)

ibrik 2

If you are intrigued and want to know how to make Turkish coffee with these, check out this link that Susan pointed me to on fb or this youtube video that I found. One thing is sure. My ibriks are not going anywhere near a gas flame so Turkish coffee will have to wait.