Author: anuchenji

Gulabi poovai navvaali vayasu…

Something something, something something tum pum pum…

…goes an old Telugu song – the Telugu version of the title song from the Hindi blockbuster Yaadon Ki Baraat… a song which for some reason I’ve always sung (if what  I do with lyrics and music can be called singing, that is!) as Ugadi poola vidagaali manasu… well, in my defence I still don’t see too much difference between singing, The heart should laugh like a rose (the original) to my version which means, The heart should blossom like a neem flower – the Ugadi flower! In fact, i think mine should become the standard version – it’s a healthier version after all with neem flowers and everything! And you know what they say about a romantic heart in a healthy body, right? Oops, was that a healthy mind in a healthy body? Never mind – everyone has a right to poetic licence – whether Juvenal or me!

So back to my healthily romantic Ugadi flower – the abundantly-produced-during-this-season flowers of the neem tree – smelling as sweet as the rest of the tree’s products – bark, twigs, leaves, evn the flowers themselves – are bitter to the taste! A bit like some people I know!

Ugadi is round the corner and memories of many earlier Ugadis come flooding back… my children were always excited about this festival because the evening before, after school and the workday were done, we used to set out to one of the temple markets close to where we live and buy exciting stuff like mangoes, mango leaves to decorate the doorway to the house and most importantly – coloured kolam (muggu/rangoli) powders. Home, tea-d, bathed, we’d get down to the serious business of decorating our threshold – each of us got one area and you could draw what you wanted in it! Mine, of course, tended to be traditional and the ‘dotted’ variety whereas the kids, who had not learnt any of the traditional stuff, decided what they wanted to draw and colour. Rules were you could help if help was asked for, admire but not criticise – anyone’s works of art! Festival, right?

And so we had pink elephants with one orange eye and one purple, finished off with a green tail – all needing to be explained because I thought it was a mouse (!), mice which looked like earthworms, trees which looked like ghosts – all frolicking across our threshold! We may never have won a prize for art but definitely for spreading joy – in the form of many half-concealed giggles from neighbours!

Kanch’s exuberance would always overflow her limited (even now!!) artistic ability but her heart would overflow with the joy of creation until she couldn’t bear it any longer… and I’d get squeezed and hugged to within an inch of my life! One memorable occasion, she hugs me and asks, “Can I become you when I grow old?!!!” Ugadi that year was THE BEST! Weel, she may not want to repeat that today, but sadly K, we do end up being more like our parents than we realise!

Then of course, festival food was always to be looked forward to… Ugadi pachadi, pulihora, roast baby potatoes, chakkara pongal and whatever else they wanted…

So here is one of our favourite foods for Ugadi… the celebration of life’s flavours – sweet, sour, salty, chili hot and astringent (iguru)…

UGADI PACHADI

• Raw mango – 1 – chopped finely
• Neem flowers – washed well – 2 – 3 tbsp
• Jaggery – 1.5 cups – grated
• Green chili – minced – 1 cm piece
• Salt – 1 pinch
• Tamarind water – from a small marble sized ball of tamarind soaked in 1 cup water.
• Water – 2 cups

Mix everything well and let the jaggery melt completely. Chill and serve.

I don’t serve this only for Ugadi but several times through the long Indian summer – it’s a fantastically ‘cooling’ drink.

And here’s the link to the song from the movie – my version is yet to be shot but this one is passable 😉

Click for song

 

Weeks of post-operative recovery and then a bad virus have left me with a distaste for most foods –  for the very first time in my life that I can remember! While I do normally have food preferences, being brought up by parents whose philosophy where food was concerned was “if it’s gone through any/some/all of the processes of washing, cutting, agni-pareeksha, then it’s good enough to grace your plate, not to mention your stomach!”. I’ve never been a fussy eater… except for now…

…when I find myself turning my nose up at “wet” foods, blanch at the sight of overcooked rice, feel sick at the very thought of Italian herbs, turn my face away at the mention of eggs (yes i know i blogged these yesterday but i couldn’t face them!) …at this last, my daughter K tells me, “Amma, you must be really ill – if you can’t stomach eggs!” True – normally one of my favourite foods – I will eat them in almost any form…

Trying to figure out what I actually can stomach and want to eat is quite a job – considering that I have to ask some one else to make it for me! Come to think of it, this is probably why I’ve always recovered so quickly from various ailments and surgeries earlier – because I want to get back to making stuff that I like to eat and feed people! Ah well, there is definitely a Buddhist lesson in what I am going through now – teach me to be so attached to the pleasures of the palate.

For the past few years, have been doing some serious amount of reading on Buddhist philosophy and finding it very consoling… then I came across this piece on life in a Buddhist monastery. The monks – both novices and senior monks – all eat in silence – in mindful contemplation of their food – that works for me! But… get this… the food is deliberately made unappetising so that the monks do not get too attached to its taste! That does not work for me at all!

At which point, I decided, like a good Oriental, to get around the problem by shelving it for the time being, moving on to other areas of the philosophy that I do understand and can accept and coming back to this conundrum later! I have a sneaking feeling though, that I will not be able to shove it aside forever – no matter how Indian my mind is! Rather like Pakistan-India relations – let’s bond over everything else – Samjhauta Express, trade links, cricket matches, Hindi films and Pakistani serials, even a Coke ad – watch this clipping… click here to watch – but let’s ignore the elephant in the room that is Kashmir! We can’t shelve it – same way like I’ll have to face up to my attachment to food sooner or later… i guess!

Right now, it’s going to be later 😉 (i’m taking a lead from our politicians here!)

And while I’m on the subject of figuring out what I’d like to eat, have a craving for one of those very basic comfort foods – a mixed rice… a very specific one, as a matter of fact!

COCONUT AND RAW MANGO RICE/THENGA-MAANGA SAADAM/KOBBARI-MAMIDIKAI ANNAM/ PULIHORA

• Raw rice – 2 cups
• Raw mango – grated – 1 cup
• 2 green chilies
• 6 red chilies
• 2-3 sprigs curry leaves
• 3-4 sprigs coriander leaves
• 5-6 tsp fresh coconut – grated
• Grated jaggery – 1 tbsp or sugar 3/4 tbsp
• 3 tsp dry coconut powder (optional)
• 2 tsp mustard seeds
• 2 tsp methi seeds
• Boiled peas to garnish – 1/2 cup (optional)

TO TEMPER:

• Sesame oil – 1 tbsp
• Mustard seeds – 1/2 tsp
• Cumin seeds /jeera 1/2 tsp
• Urad dal and chana dal – 1 tsp each
• Peanuts – 2 tbsp
• Cashew nuts (optional) – 2 tbsps – broken into halves
• Asafoetida – 1 pinch
• Turmeric – 1/4 tsp
• Salt

Method:

Cook the rice in your rice cooker  (preferable) or pressure cooker. Spread it on a flat plate and separate the grains. Let cool.

Dry roast red chillies, curry leaves, methi seeds, mustard seeds, and dry coconut.

Grind this dry masala.

Next pulse the grated mango, grated coconut, green chilies, jaggery and the dry masala above till just blended.

In a pan, heat oil. Fry cashew nuts till golden yellow, remove from the pan and set aside.

Then add peanuts and let them roast till crisp. Add mustard seeds, urad dal, chana dal, asafoetida and turmeric. Let the dals roast for a minute.

Add the coconut, green chili and mango paste.

Fry for a few more minutes.

Now add the rice, salt and cashew nuts and carefully fold together all the ingredients.

I swear this will help you ponder on existential problems like India-Pak relations and o’erweening attachments… to food or anything else!

A bemused ten-year old sits staring at cage after cage of hens ranged around a huge yard… the hens are all superbly white and the thought crosses my mind… “Aunty, who gives the hens a bath everyday? They’re so white?” I ask! Aunty, my friend Neeroo’s mother, takes a minute to react – she probably can’t believe what she’s just been asked… and then great peals of laughter ring out, startling the hens – probably affected the number of eggs they laid that day! She’s never let me forget it – even four decades later!

It was my first time on a poultry farm – my friend’s parents owned one and she’d invited us over for a birthday party. Now I knew that hens laid eggs but nothing of poultry beyond that! The entry to the poultry farm is always a bit of a shock – the smell is overpowering and rather sick-making. A few minutes into it and you don’t even notice the smell any more.

A visit to Neeroo’s poultry farm was always a treat because there was no end to the amount of eggs one could eat – omelette after omelette disappeared down our throats – a healthier birthday party option than the chips and Coke that became standard birthday party fare later on.

Being the daughter of a very nutrition conscious doc and the niece of a nutritionist, I am very conscious of what we make and eat. Birthday parties never involve Coke and Pepsi – rather, it’s always a fresh juice – watermelon or orange and aloo tikkis rather than chips. And eggs wherever I could!

And while on the subject, BBC has just broken news that 19 officials in Cuba have been accused of stealing… get this – eight million eggs! Now I know that egg lovers can be forgiven much  – after all, i am one myself 😉 – but eight million? That is 4,21,000 eggs per head! Taking an average age of these egg-loving officials to be forty and a life expectancy of thirty years more for each of them, they would have 1,40,350 eggs each to look forward to – 4,700 eggs per head per year – or thirteen eggs a day! All this assuming that the eggs will last forever! Well, loving eggs is one thing but a baker’s dozen everyday is a bit much!

And so, today we make… what else – an egg curry! But a very different one from Andhra – with milk!

PAALU GUDDU/EGGS IN MILK

• 5-6 eggs
• Onions – 3 large – very finely sliced
• Green chilies – 4-5 chopped
• Curry leaves – 2-3 sprigs
• Jeera/cumin seeds – 1/2 tsp
• Turmeric – 1/2 tsp
• Oil  2 tsp
• Milk – 4-5 cups

Heat the oil in a flat bottomed pan and add the jeera. When it splutters, add the green chilis, onions and curry leaves. Fry till golden yellow. Lower the flame and add milk. Mix well and let the mixture come to the boil. Break the eggs one by one, gently into the gravy. Cover and let cook till set 8-10 minutes.

Easy peasy and yummy – maybe this is what those Cuban officials were stealing the eggs for!

Pics for the paste few weeks courtesy internet – mostly – still not well enough to cook!

The year is 1987 and I’d just reported for my first job and was sent off for a training programme covering Ranchi, Bokaro, Delhi, Calcutta (as it was then). Never having traveled much in the north of India, this trip – all made by train – was full of excitement. The little stations where the train passed through, the lichi trees actually growing on the platforms in Bihar – urchins plucking these, folding up a bunch of lichis in the leaves from the tree itself and selling each bundle for a buck or so – you ate the lichis, spat out the skin and seeds into the leaf packets and threw them away – the most bio-degradable packaging in the world! Those lichis, still warm from the afternoon sun, the juice dribbling down your chin as you bit into them – I had never tasted anything so delicious before!

You topped off a packet of lichis with chai in an earthenware matka – and threw that away when you were done!

Bihar was full of delicious surprises – litti chokhas – had never even heard of them – forget about eating them – littis dripping with ghee and the wonderful baingan or aloo ka chokha that accompanied it, the thin, almost clear soup kind of dals that you basically drank rather than ate – the state was a treasure trove of unusual dishes…

….until I landed in Bokaro – in the middle of the May when the thermometer went over 47 C – and we were being trained in a steel plant – got a glimpse of what Dante’s inferno was all about when we spent a day in the SMS – no, not what you’re thinking – it’s the steel melting shop!

The food at the plant canteen was just as bad – with rotis like thick brittle papads and a subzi of indeterminate provenance, ingredients and vintage! Ran out after my first mouthful, bought myself a couple of mangoes and ate them in a little park outside the canteen – repeating it for the next seven days every day at lunchtime!

Delhi was a dream after that with its variety of restaurants and cuisines from all over the world. But the real McCoy was Calcutta – as it was known then… even for a Hyderabadi used to ‘cheap and best’ places to eat in, Calcutta was a cornucopia – 3 spring rolls or 6 momos for two bucks! As for the rosogullas, I have yet to meet anyone who doesn’t go into a trance when you mention the Cal rosogullas!

In Cal, I joined a group of trainees from another batch – 21 trainees and me the only woman. Nothing averse to all the attention I received!

The morning I joined, everyone was very friendly, came up and introduced themselves. One decided to steal a march on the rest and  asked if I’d like to go out for lunch. “Don’t they provide lunch along with the training session?” I ask. “Sure, but there are bound to be better places outside,” comes the slick response!

I grin to myself and say okay. As soon as it’s half past one, our pal, D, hustles me out of the training room in case I should change my mind or someone thinks up a better line!

We walk and we walk… and we walk… not a restaurant around the place. Finally I stop and refuse to walk any more in the sultry heat of the Calcutta summer. We look around… there’s a rather shady looking Kashmiri joint but I don’t care! We walk in and order… Kashmiri dum aloo, pulao and something which looks very interesting – palak mutter. The food comes. Sundry conversation but much concentration on eating. Then I decided it’s time to put my pal out of his misery – or maybe put him into misery! “You know, dum aloo is my husband’s favourite dish,” I let drop…

The aloo drops from his nerveless fingers… “Your husband???!”

“Yes, yes!”

We join up and work in the same office for a few years becoming great pals – but I never let him forget his reaction! It’s great fun to be a woman, sometimes!

And the Kashmiri dish that stays in my memory…

PALAK MUTTER

• 1/2 kg very finely chopped spinach (palak)
• 1 cup boiled green peas
• 2 cloves (laung/lavang)
• 1″ stick of cinnamon (dalchini)
• 1/4 tsp asafoetida
• 1 tsp chilli powder
• 1/4 tsp turmeric powder (haldi)
• 1/4 tsp dried ginger powder
• 1/2 cup milk (or cream for a richer curry)
• 2 tsp oil or ghee
• Salt

Method

Heat the oil, add the cloves, cinnamon and asafoetida.

Add the spinach and stir till it wilts.

Add ½ cup of water and bring it to a boil.

Simmer for 10 to 12 minutes till almost all the water evaporates. Add the boiled peas.

Add the chilli powder, turmeric powder, ginger powder, milk and salt and mix well.

Bring it back to the boil and serve immediately with rotis.

Oh, and if you have a good line, be very demure when you let it drop!

 

“And what would you like to order, ma’am?”

“Please may I see the syllabus?”

“Huh?”

“Could I look at the syllabus before ordering?”

“Errr… sorry ma’am, would you be wanting the menu, by any chance?”

“Ooop, sorry!! That’s what I meant”!! says the harried mom of three children who’s dropped them off at school for their exams and decided to treat herself to a cup of coffee not made by herself!

Exam season is on all over India and parents are a harried lot… what with managing syllabi, ‘combined’ studies, worrying about the kids’ emotional state, ‘healthy food’, no eating out in case the kid falls sick before the exam, no movies, no TV time, no more games of cards or scrabble, no more… anything that seems to make life worth living!

I hark back to a time when exams were just one more of those mild disturbances (if at all!) in the lives of most parents and children, a little obstacle to go through before the serious business of “going to my native” (the cutest of all Indish phrases!) for two glorious months of summer holidays!

We were those deprived, completely citified sad three kids who – get this – did not even have a “native” to go to!! Honestly, what were the parents thinking, right??! Instead we went away to places like Madras, Bombay and Vizag to stay with other aunts and uncles for the summer – the holidays were superb, with loads of food, loads more cousins to play with and so on… but no village well to swim in (how could a mere swimming pool offer competition to swimming in the village well with moss and frogs and sundry other alive things for company?!)

One holiday to Bombay – our first to the metro, in fact, was memorable for the very first time that we saw buildings that were over two storeys high! Growing up in small town Hyderabad, though it was supposed to be one of the largest cities in India, we’d never seen a multi-storeyed building in our lives – and Bombay was full of these! Why, even my aunt and uncle lived in a five or six storeyed apartment block, for heaven’s sake! As for downtown Bombay, the business district, I swear I got a crick in my neck from walking around staring up into the sky at all the buildings! And local trains to go around in – these were a shock – in my ten-year old opinion, trains were meant for long journeys, trains meant you got down dirty as a chimney sweep from the coal dust that flew back from the steam engines of those days! So to get into a train for a half an hour ride, stressed the daylights out of me! And I felt I needed a bath, though I’d just had one!

This was also the year of the great Railway General Strike in India, when the railways were shut down for a whole month! And so there we were, stranded with no means to go back – flying was out of the question – only very rich people flew – like the Tatas and the Birlas and so on! The rest of India – train-ed! My poor aunt and uncle had quite a job keeping three young nieces and nephews entertained for the summer along with their own two children – our cousins. Luckily, this was also the summer of the great carrom craze… the game would begin almost before we’d brushed our teeth in the morning, baths would be had only under threat of dire consequences… and the game went on till late into the night…

Harried or not, distracted or not, mealtimes were the one thing for which no second call was needed… my aunt – Ambi – was a superb cook – genes that her daughter Aparna has inherited in full force and then some!

Most meals at home were South Indian, but I do remember the first time that we bit into a vada pav – I thought I’d died and gone straight to Vaikuntham (we were BIG fans of Amar Chitra Katha!)

Even today, vada pav – that quintessential Bombay street food – high in all the wrong things – fat, starch and so on – is still an indulgence worth a whole week’s dieting!

 VADA PAV

• Pav buns – 4 – 6
• Butter – LOTS! Well, about 30 gms will do at a pinch!
• Red garlic chutney – see below – 1 measure
• Green chutney – see below – 1 measure 
• Vadas – 8-12 – see below
• Fried green chilies – optional – 4-6

For the vadas 

• Boiled Potatoes – 4 medium sized
• Cumin seeds – 1/2 tsp
• Green chili – 1 – minced
• Mustard seeds – 1/4 tsp
• Ginger garlic paste – 1/2 tsp
• Onion – 1 medium – minced
• Juice of half a lemon
• Turmeric powder – 1/2 tsp
• Red chili powder – 1/2 tsp
• Salt
• Urad dal– 1/2 tsp
• Coriander leaves – 2 tsp
• Oil – 2 tsp

Heat oil, add mustard seeds, urad dal and jeera, allow it to splutter.

Add green chillies, ginger garlic paste and fry for a minute. Add onions and fry till golden brown.

Then add mashed potatoes, turmeric and chili powders, salt and mix well.

Add chopped coriander leaves, mix well and switch off. Allow it to cool, squeeze the lime over and make small balls. Set aside.

For the dipping batter

• Besan/chickpea flour– 1 cup
• Rice flour – 1 tbsp
• Chilli powder – 1/2 tsp or more
• Salt – to taste
• Baking soda – a pinch
• Oil – to toast/deep fry

Mix all these together with enough water to make a thick dipping batter. Dip the potato balls in it and deep fry in hot oil till a deep golden brown – vada colour would describe it perfectly!

Red garlic chutney

• 6 -8 garlic cloves – dry roast till slightly yellow
• 1/2 cup grated dry coconut – dry roast till golden yellow
• 1 tablespoon sesame seeds – dry roast till they pop.
• 1 tablespoon roasted peanuts
• 2 teaspoons red chili powder
• 1 teaspoon dhania/coriander powder
• 1/2 teaspoon tamarind paste
• 1 teaspoon oil
• Salt

Grind everything together without adding any water till you get a powdery dry chutney.

Green chutney

• Mint leaves – 1 cup
• Fresh coriander – 1/2 cup
• Green chilies – 1
• Ginger – 1 cm piece
• Juice of half a lemon
• Sugar – 1 tsp
• Garlic – 2 cloves
• Cucumber – 1/2 medium size – chunk
• Chaat masala or pani puri masala – 1/4 tsp
• Salt – 1/2 tsp

Grind everything together to a chutney.

To assemble:

Heat a pan with a little butter. Halve the pav buns and slather them with butter. Toast on the tava till golden brown and crisp. Spread the green chutney on one side and red chutney on the other. Sandwich two vadas between each pav bun. If you like the heat, add fried green chilies – 1 or 2 in each vada pav!

For the best vada pavs, you do need to take the train to Bombay though!