Author: anuchenji

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Of Palghat maamis and madisaars!

morukootan
 It’s a few months since I’ve been married and moved to Madras. We are at a friend’s place and I’m chatting away with her mother-in-law, proudly showing off my newly learnt skill – in Tamil.
“Engaathuku vaango, maami.” I invite her to visit us.
“Paalakaadu thaane?” she responds. (You’re from  Palghat, aren’t you?)
I am horrified – it’s one thing to learn someone else’s language but I definitely don’t want to lose my Hyderabadi identity.
“Eeee, illave illai. Naan Hyderabad lendaakum!” I respond completely belying my claim! (What I said was “definitely not – I am from Hyderabad” – in the purest of Palghat accents!)
“Pinne sariyaana Palghat Tamil yen pesarai?” (Then why are you speaking in a Palghat accent?)
And that is the first time I come to know – that I have adopted, willy-nilly, the whole caboodle of an accent which belongs to a very tiny community on the borders of Tamilnadu and Kerala! For such a tiny community, they’ve had an amazing influence on the world outside Palghat – they know it and will never tire of letting you know it too!
Having always had an ear for languages, I’ve prided myself on my ability to pick up a new lingo really fast but, as I’ve discovered to my cost – new accents are easier to acquire than get rid off – thirty years on, I’m still “pinne-ing” and “aathu-fying” away with the best of the Palghats! (“pinne” and “aathu” are typical Palghatisms – “pinne” in the sing-songiest of intonations means “then what, you think I’m kidding or what?” and “aathu” being a colloquialism for  “home”! Kamalahasan has done an absolutely brilliant job of picking up on this in Michael Madana Kamaraaj…
My accent has been the cause for much hilarity among my friends. A friend’s husband had come home one evening to pick up their daughter. Hubby and I are arguing away about something and he’s definitely on the receiving end this time. Friend looks at him, then at me then again at him and then at me… “I know one of you is from Palghat but which one?!!” I stalk away in a huff – me, the free-spirited Hyderabadi???!!!
But I would never, ever walk away from this totally delicious dish from Palghat… the incredibly simple….

MAMBAZHA MORUKOOTAN (A KADHI WITH RIPE MANGOES):
  • Ripe mangoes – 2 large or 4 small. Peel  and cut into large chunks. Keep the kottais/ tenkas/ seeds
  • Turmeric – 1 generous pinch
  • Jaggery – 1 tbsp – depending on the sourness of the mango
  • Salt
  • Sour yogurt – 2 cups

FOR MASALA:

  • Coconut oil – 1 tsp
  • Fenugreek seeds / methi – ¾ tsp
  • Mustard seeds – ½ tsp
  • Red chilies – 4-5
  • Rice or rice flour – 1 tsp
  • Fresh coconut – grated – 3 tbsp
  • Jeera / cumin seeds – ½ tsp
Fry all the seeds in the oil and add coconut and rice flour. If using rice, fry that as well. Cool and grind to a smooth paste.
FOR TEMPERING:
  • Coconut oil – 1 tsp
  • Mustard seeds – ½ tsp
  • Curry leaves – 2 sprigs
Cook the mangoes with the seeds along with the turmeric and jaggery for about 5 minutes.
Add the masala and cook for a few minutes more till mangoes are tender.
Add the yogurt, salt and enough water for make a medium thick gravy and simmer for a few minutes.
Temper and serve with plain rice and a pappadam or two…or three…
And you won’t care if you’re mistaken for a sariyaana Paalakaadu maami again!
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Of superstitions and crowshit and other BS!

brinjal curry

brinjal curry brinjal curry

If a bird shits on your head or shoulder you should get unexpectedly rewarded. Normal droppings (non-bird, that is) have the same effect! Vive la Italia!

If a bird shits on you, or if you accidentally step in shit (any old shit will do) – you’ll be (filthy) rich! Long live Lithuania! 

Just be thankful cows and elephants don’t fly. That’s the luck about having a bird do its business on you! – Yahoo answers zindabad!

It is very lucky and unlucky at the same time, unlucky, because it could be a flock of birds and they could cover you – unknown wag – may he never have a crow shit on him!

“It’s considered good luck because the odds of it happening to you are like one in a billion, which is rarer than winning the lottery.  So statistically if you’re able to get bird poop on you, then you should be able to win the lottery.” – Sheldon Cooper’s identical twin, I’m sure!

It’s quite amazing how superstitions around the world tend to be the same – whether it’s black cats or crowshit or shaking your legs while seated, whistling indoors and many, many more! There are culture-specific ones, of course, but the commonalities are really mind-boggling…

As kids, one accepts these blindly – yawning in the evening means a pishachi (ghoul) would fly down your throat and cause you tummyache. If you sneeze when you’re leaving the house, you have to sit down and rest awhile before you can start out again – imagine if you’ve got a cold coming on and you’ve to catch a train and… phew! My parents were not particularly superstitious and so we didn’t get to hear about many of these, much less experience them except through friends and their families – it was strange, it was new… ergo, it was exotic! I was fascinated with superstitions!

So there was this one superstition at school called kaaki engili (literally crow’s saliva/jhoota). In general, Indians are very fastidious about sharing food – particularly taking a bite out of someone else’s apple or a taste off someone else’s plate – because it is then contaminated with that person’s saliva. There is some sense behind this as most colds and coughs and infections spread this way. But then, like most things in India, there is always a way round the rule! If you had to share a toffee or a guava with your best friend, you would carefully cover the area you were going to bite into with a piece of cloth or a bit of paper and bite through it! You were still contaminating it, of course, but conscience was satisfied!

Having been brought up with principles of hygiene firmly embedded into our heads – much more than any superstition, I’ve never been able to share engili/ contaminated food! Most mothers of young children I knew would happily polish off the leftovers from their childrens’ plates rather than waste food – I could never bring myself to do it – much to their disparagement! My argument was – same germs – child or adult and if I catch a cold from my kid, then who’s going to look after the sick child?! Leftover food from the kids plates went straight into the dustbin with a lecture on waste and “not having eyes bigger than your stomach!”

But my anti-superstition stance has been vindicated – new studies (yesterday’s Times of India) show that crow droppings contain loads of disease-carrying bacteria, viruses and various other creepy crawly things which can give you the heebie-jeebies in various parts of your body! Urrrrr! And that is the reason why (not because I’ve had crows drop their loads on me at half a dozen times – choosing their timing well – every single time I had no access to water, the very first time being when I was just three years old!!) I hate the fellas so much!

One grows out of childhood hates – like every kid’s pet peeve – brinjals/eggplants which most of us grow to love later in life, but I’ve never grown out of this crow aversion…

But here’s one of my favourite outgrown-from-childhood favourites

MAHARASHTRIAN BRINJAL CURRY / MASALYACHI VANGI

  • Small, tender brinjals – 1/2 kg. Wash, remove stalks, cut into 1″ slices and dunk in water till needed

FOR MASALA

  • Peanuts – 2 tbsp
  • Sesame seeds – 1 tbsp
  • Desiccated coconut/copra – 1.5 tbsp
  • Red chilies – 4-5
  • Coriander seeds/dhaniya – 1 tbsp
  • Cumin seeds/jeera – 1 tsp
  • Curry leaves – 2 sprigs
  • Saunf (fennel) – 1/4 tsp
  • Turmeric powder – 1/4 tsp
  • Asafoetida – 1 pinch
  • Salt
  • Oil – 1 tbsp

TO TEMPER

Mustard seeds, urad dal and jeera

Roast the peanuts, sesame, copra, red chilies, jeera, dhaniya, saunf and powder to a grainy powder

Heat the oil in a pan, add the tempering ingredients.

When they splutter, add the asafoetida and turmeric and immediately add the drained brinjal pieces. Add salt.

Cover and cook till half done – about 5 minutes. Add the powdered masala and cover and cook again for a few more minutes till the vegetable is tender. Garnish with coriander and serve with rice or rotis.

And don’t go near those evil crows!

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Of all creatures great and small… and their diets!

spaghetti

“Roll over, Beethoven”, says Crocky to Beety.

“Go away.”

“Roll over and let me get some space in the sun,” whines Crocky.

“I said, GO AWAY” and Beety turns over, tucks his paws (if that’s what a turtle legs are called) in and refuses to budge. He has got there first and bagged the ‘good spot’ in the sun, after all!

Crocky (our pal, the crocodile), tries to nudge Beety but Beety tucks himself in tighter and refuses to budge. Can’t be pushed – because he’s almost a ball! Half a ball, rather. Croc is determined, sniffs around and then finally, climbs on top of Beety, who still will not budge. Luckily for Beety the terrapin, Crocky is a dwarf croc – the smallest species in the world – a West African Dwarf croc! Now if he had been an Indian mugger, there would have been no tale to tell – terrapin – paws, shell and all would have disappeared into the digestive tract of this fearsome reptile which can digest anything!

And so there lie the pair of them – a terrapin and a crocodile, fighting literally for a place in the sun,Think I’m making this up? Honest to god, it happened – at Paignton Zoo – as reported by the Mirror! Now whether the Mirror was making up news is another matter altogether!

The story took me back to a sunny day in Hyderabad many decades ago. My mother was on a bus, coming home from work and the guy sitting in front of her puts down a bag. In a few minutes, the bag sort of undulates – to my mother’s horror – she immediately jumps to the conclusion it’s a snake (as ninety nine out of a hundred readers who are reading this did do too!) and edges away. More undulations. Then a head peers out. She shrieks. Guy in front turns around. “Kya hua, amma?”(What is it?). She points a shaking finger at the bag. By now a pair of very curious eyes are visible. Guy in front reaches down and pulls it out of the bag to reassure her- that it’s a tortoise and not a snake!

Relief makes her chatty. Is that a pet for your children, she asks.

Oh, no, this is my dinner tonight, he says!

Rosy visions come crashing down! But after some negotiation, she manages to buy it off him for ten bucks – a lot of money those days!

Brings it home as a pet for her children instead – one more of my mother’s ‘projects’! Need I say how excited we were?!

And so, we make a little nest for it – in a box with leaves and bits of cloth and cotton wool – we don’t know so we might as well put in everything to make it comfortable!

Then comes the serious business of feeding the tortoise. We are completely clueless about what tortoises eat! So we try – many dishes – rice, dal, grass, bits of boiled egg, masala dosa and when the tortoise refuses to put its head out for anything, we figure that we have to get it something non-vegetarian! Now this is more difficult than you can imagine in a strictly vegetarian household. A round table is held. We reach a decision. Worms! Non-veg, easily available in the garden, we don’t have to kill it – the tortoise will!

And so, off to the garden we go! And find a hapless worm, which we present to the tortoise with great ceremony. The worm, being a curious sort of creature, manages to find the opening to the tortoise’s head and crawls in. Like lightning, the head shoots out – ejecting said hapless worm!

We give up. The next day, an expedition to the zoo is made, where the ‘pet’ is handed over with many tears (from my side) and best wishes for a long life – from my brothers!

For all we know, it’s still living at the Hyderabad Zoo!

Maybe we could have tried spaghetti instead of worms – not much difference in looks, right??! Particularly this…

SPAGHETTI WITH ROASTED RED PEPPER SAUCE

FOR RED PEPPER SAUCE:

  • 1 onion, chopped
  • Sugar – 1 tsp
  • 6 garlic cloves
  • 3 tbsp tomato puree or 3 large tomatoes- chopped
  • 1 cup red wine
  • 6-7 roasted red peppers/ capsicums- the easiest way to do this is to skewer them, roast over an open flame. If you are feeling full of beans, after the skin blisters and blackens, put them in a dabba with a lid. Open after 5 minutes and the skin will slip off easily – and you can feel virtuous about not using any plastic!). If, on the other hand, you are in the throes of the summer in India, just leave the skins on and chop away!
  • 1 tsp sage or herbes de Provence
  • 1/2 tsp – red chili powder
  • 1 green chili minced
  • Grated parmesan or cheddar – lots!
  • Mint or basil leaves to garnish
  • Salt
  • Oil – 2 tbsp

Heat the green chili, onions and sugar along with the oil. Let onions brown well.

Add garlic. Saute for a minute.

Add the tomatoes or puree and let soften. Add the capsicums, herbs and salt. Add wine and let cook for 4 – 5 minutes.

Run through a blender or a bar blender till you get a knobbly puree. Return to pan and bring to boil.

Boil spaghetti according to instructions.

Serve with sauce and plenty of cheese, garnished with mint or basil.

And if you don’t buy my story about Crocky and Beety – check it out…!

http://www.mirror.co.uk/news/weird-news/remarkable-photograph-shows-crocodile-sat-5478039

P.S: And I still don’t know what tortoises eat – so you know what not to give me for my next birthday!

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Of Chinese idlis and chutney and an omelette which never saw a hen!

khandvi

khandvi khandvi

For anyone who grew up in the 70’s and 80’s, the culinary scene was very exciting because it was the time that the world of world cuisines opened up to us even in India. Pizzas happened – maybe this had something to do with Sonia Gandhi – the controversial B-f-rs deal being sweetened by pizza chains??!

Chinese was not world cuisine, not by a long shot – Chinese was Indian, for heaven’s sake! Punjab was probably the best thing to happen to China’s food!

I remember a Chinese origin friend from college (his family had left China so long ago that he’d have felt like a foreigner there, I’m sure!). So, one day, we – some dozen of us, decide to bunk college and go for a “picnic” (feeling a bit like a dinosaur when I use this word – does anyone ever go for a ‘picnic‘ now??!) Much food from many homes are packed (budgets are tight, restaurants in picnic spots are unknown and even if they did exist, am pretty sure we couldn’t have afforded them, ergo home food!) and we set off to one of those many places we used to go to – Jubilee Hills lake (now known as Madhapur lake, i think) or some poultry farm somewhere on the outskirts of Hyderabad. Why these poultry farms were such popular picnic spots is still a matter of mystery to me – considering how smelly they tended to be!

Lunchtime arrives – earlier than normal – well, we have taken two buses to get to the spot so… and everyone watches like a hawk as each dabba is opened. All dabbas are opened with great expectations and all are greeted with enthusiasm – as I mentioned earlier, we are a very polite bunch in Hyderabad! Then this Chinese-origin pal opens his, let’s call him KP (no, not short for Kung Pao chicken!!) we’re all waiting with serious expectations – we love Chinese food – and the dabba has… idlis! With a tamatar ki chutney! Expectation turns to disbelief, then someone giggles and then the whole bunch erupts as KP tries to pass it off as Chinese chutney!

The first time I encountered a – vegetarian omelette – I had a similar reaction – it was an eggless omelette! A Gujju friend introduced me to this delight in school – only a Gujarati can turn old sayings like “you can’t make an omelette without breaking eggs” on its head. Patel bhai says you can! And he does!

It looks like an omelette, smells a bit like one but… and here’s where the resemblance stops – doesn’t taste anything like one! But, and here’s the thing – stop thinking of it as an omelette and that’s when you’ll begin to appreciate the beauty of this dish…

KHANDVI

  • Besan or gram flour – 1/2 cup
  • Buttermilk – 1 cup
  • Salt
  • Turmeric – 1 pinch
  • Chili powder – 1 pinch
  • Oil – 1 tbsp

Mix everything except the oil together.

Heat the oil in a pan, add the batter and cook, stirring continuously so the batter stays smooth, for about 7-8 minutes. The gram flour will stop smelling raw.

Pour out one ladleful on a greased thali and spread thin – a little like a dosa. Repeat till the batter is over. Let it cool. Cut into 2-inch strips and roll carefully into little packets. Lay out on a plate. Sprinkle coconut and chopped coriander over.

FOR TEMPERING

  • Oil – 2 tsp
  • Mustard seeds – 1/2 tsp
  • Sesame seeds – 1.5 tsp
  • Grated fresh coconut – 2 tbsp
  • Green chilies – 2 – minced
  • Curry leaves – 1 sprig
  • Chopped coriander – 2 tbsp
  • Asafoetida – 1 generous pinch

Heat oil, add all the ingredients with the sesame seeds being last and pour over the prepared khandvi.

This is a great summer dish because it can be made ahead and is best served at room temperature or lower.

You definitely can have your “omelette” and stay veggie too!

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Of ‘hunger fasts’, exams and the important things in life!

Qabooli Biryani

“Abbey, ek aur plate biryani la, na? Aur is baar pieces aur hone do”! (hey, bring me another plate of biryani and this time get more ‘pieces’ – – mutton chunks!), floats a voice in from the road, just outside my bedroom window.

I am supposed to be (supposed being the operative word here!) studying for my public exams. It is May in Hyderabad and everyone knows just how hot that can be – the thermometer climbs to over 43C on an everyday basis! Airconditioners are almost unknown except in the houses of the very, very rich (like the Birlas or Tatas!). Aircoolers are just appearing on the scene but not yet in our home. We make do with fans and when the power fails – as it does often, we have more baths and fan ourselves with the ‘vistaraaku’ – palm leaf fans which have existed in India from the days of the proto-Dravidian man, I think! Am sure if you stay quiet enough, you’ll catch an occasional simian ancestor of ours – fanning themselves with these!

The temperature has been hovering at 44C and studying in the daytime is impossible so I decide to sleep – waking up at eleven in the night to the realisation that the exam is barely hours away and I still have some eight chapters to get through – even if I leave out four in “choice”! This funda of choice – something every kid who’s been through the examination system in this country is very familiar with – actually is a great outfitter for life itself!

It works like this – we have, say, twenty chapters to study for the exam which is just hours away (if you are one of those nerds who starts preparing two months earlier, please go away! This is not meant for you – you are ill-prepared for life – our life at least!).

So, unlike today, where you have a zillion multiple-choice questions to get through, you had the either/or questions for some twenty marks each or you had the “answer any three of the following five questions” thingy. Now anyone who’s done class 2 level maths will figure out that if you have five chapters, you need study only three to max the exam (whatever your level of max-ing is, that is!), presuming that only one question will be asked from each of those chapters. Thus saving valuable time to cater to the really important things in life – of which there were two -listening to cricket commentaries and Binaca Geet Mala – on the radio!

The real trick here was to figure out, if you had twenty chapters and only six questions in the exam to answer, which to leave out in         ‘choice’! It took real intelligence to do this! Hubby interjects here – objection he says! Everytime he left out stuff in ‘choice’, he says, eighty percent of the questions would be from the chapters he left out! Having had exactly the opposite experience, but feeling too sorry for him to let him down, I can only nod (the Hyderabadi shake of the head which to the rest of the world means ‘no’ but in our unique land, means ‘yes’ and ‘no’ or ‘whatever’ – all at the same time!) pityingly- he’s proving my point! And that, my dear, is how we figure out the really important things in life – by leaving out stuff in ‘choice’!

But I have digressed much from my original biryani story. There is a Youth Congress dharna going on and since our house is at the junction of three roads, they pitch their tent right outside our window. The dharna is in the form of a ‘hunger fast’! The ‘leader’, fashionably dressed in an embroidered yellow shirt, bell-bottomed jeans and a denim jacket (Youth Congress – he has to make a statement!), sits receiving his ‘chelas’ during the day, when he fasts and other chelas during the night – secretly feasting on mutton biryani – with many ‘pieces’! Of course, the dharna was a success!

Did I mention earlier – hum aiseech hain! Aur aise hee khayenge bi! Tere ku kya hua?

(We are like this only.We will eat like this only. What’s it to you?!!)

We are unique…like this dish of ours…a one-pot wonder..

HYDERABADI QABOOLI BIRYANI:

  • Basmati rice – worth buying the very best quality) – 2 cups, wash well and soak in 4 cups water for half an hour
  • Bay leaves – 2
  • Star anise – 2
  • Chana dal – 3/4 cup – wash and soak for half an hour. Cook on a high flame till done but still separate (you should be able to squash it between your fingers). Strain and reserve the liquid.
  • One large onion – finely sliced
  • Ginger paste – 1 tbsp
  • Garlic paste – 1 tbsp
  • Green chilies – 2-3
  • Red chili powder – 1/2 tsp
  • Turmeric – 1 pinch – optional
  • Caramelised onions – 3 tbsp
  • Biryani masala – available everywhere! – 1 tsp
  • Yogurt – 1 cup
  • Oil and ghee mixture – 3 tbsp (half and half)
  • Saffron – a few strands – soaked in 2 tbsp milk
  • Salt
  • Chopped mint and coriander leaves – 1/2 cup each

Heat the oil-ghee in a saucepan. Add the onions and salt, fry till golden.

Add the ginger – garlic pastes and continue to saute till brown.

Add the tumeric, red chili powder, green chilies and chana dal. Mix well.

Add the beaten yogurt and continue to cook, stirring frequently till the yogurt is incorporated well and drying up.

Sprinkle the biryani masala and the herbs on top.

Cook the rice (preferably in a rice cooker or a large saucepan with a lid) with a couple of bay leaves and star anise till almost but not quite done. Strain. Put back in pan.

Drizzle the saffron milk on top. Spread the chana dal mixture on top of the rice.

Cook for about five minutes more till done.

Sprinkle the caramelised onions (and fried cashew nuts if you like) on top.

Serve with a raita.

n.b – you can replace the chana with boiled chickpeas.

(This is a layered biryani in the original but at 44 c? Seriously??!!)

I just went through the recipe and realsied I’ve left out the water we used for the dal – well, use it in something else!)