Author: anuchenji

Jab tak samose mein aloo rahega,

Tab tak Bihar mein Laloo rahega! 

I’ve always been a bit of a newspaper snob, reading only the Hindu and turning my nose up at all the other papers – and there are SIX of them that get delivered every morning. These last few days, however, convalescing, I finish the Hindu and then, since there’s very little else i can do, find time hanging on my hands a bit. Idly picked up the Times of India – a paper which, from cursory earlier reading, I’ve always thought had not much news worth reading nor much commentary worth reading – I owe a BIG apology to the Times – it has livened up my mornings by telling me sundry happenings in India which include how the administrators of Bareilly want to paint dangerous dogs blue (yes, i know i’ve written a whole story about it but i still can’t get over it!) and today’s item about Laloo Prasad Yadav and the samosa!

I CANNOT, for the life of me, imagine the staid Hindu publishing something like this. I still love it but am realising that the Hindu is my curd rice (perugannam/thayir saadam) to the paneer-butter masala that the Times offers! Can’t do without the former but the latter offers occasional exciting possibilites to the palate!

Lalu, the politician you cannot ignore, even if you try. The man is so newsworthy that he MUST have got voted to power time after time and all the way to the Chief Ministerial gaddi (seat) in Bihar purely on the strength of his ability to make his voters laugh! Sample these:

“My mother always told me not to handle a buffalo by its tail, but always catch it by its horns. And I have used that lesson in everything in my life, including the Railways.” And the even more pithy, “If you do not milk the cow fully, it falls sick!” Except that Lalu mistook the state of Bihar and then the Ministry of Railways for members of the bovine species and proceeded to keep them “healthy” by milking them very, very well indeed!

Apocryphal stories abound… NASA was interviewing professionals to be sent to Mars. Only one person could go, and he will not return to Earth.

The first applicant, an American engineer, was asked how much he wanted to be paid for going.

“A million dollars”, he answered. “Because I wish to donate it to M.I.T.” The next applicant, a Russian doctor, was asked the same question. He asked for two million dollars.

“I wish to give a million to my family, he explained. “And leave the other million for the advancement of medical research.”

The last applicant was a Indian politician (Lallu Yadav). When asked how much money he wanted, he whispered in the interviewer’s ear.

“Three million dollars.” “Why so much more than the others?” the interviewer asked.

The Indian politician replied, $1 million is for you, I’ll keep $1million, and we’ll give the American engineer $1million and send him to Mars.” 😉

In Hindu mythology, stories abound of men and women attaining divine powers through the practice of austerities but there’s always a twist in the tale – a Catch 22 loophole which enables god to defeat them when they grow too big for their boots (an almost inevitable consequence of too much power). Like the case of Hiranyakashyapu, for instance who gains a boon that he will be killed neither by man nor beast, neither indoors nor outdoors, neither during the day nor night… he ends up being killed by Narasimha half-man, half animal, at twilight, on the threshold of his palace – all absolutely correct as per the letter of the boon.

But in the case of the samosa, Lalu ji seems to have forgotten about Irani samosas – jis mein aloo nahin hain! (there are no potatoes in this variety of samosa)! And I think that’s why he lost the elections and got indicted – all because of the lack of an aloo in a samosa – talk about for want of a nail…

So, Laloo-ji, aapke liye special…

IRANI SAMOSA to make about 12-14

• 1 cup maida
• 1/2 ts salt
• 2 tsp hot oil
• Water

Knead all this into a smooth dough, cover and set aside.

FOR THE FILLING

• Onions – 2 – sliced fine
• Green chili – 1 – minced
• Red chili powder – 1/2 tsp
• Dhania/coriander powder – 1/2 tsp
• Turmeric – 1/2 tsp
• Asafoetida – 1 pinch
• Dried dill – 1/2 tsp (sooya in Hindi/soyya koora in Telugu) – this is what gives Irani samosas their distinctive flavour
• Poha/beaten rice/atukulu – 2 tbsp – roasted and powdered
• Salt – 1/2 tsp
• Coriander leaves – chopped – 2 tbsp
• Lemon juice or amchoor powder – 1/2 tsp
• Oil – 1 tbsp

OIL FOR DEEP FRYING – 2 cups

FOR SEALING: 2 tbsp maida mixed with 1 tbsp water.

Heat 1 tbsp of oil in a pan and add the onions and green chilies. Fry till onions are golden brown.

Add all the other ingredients and stir till the mixture is reasonably dry.

A too-wet mixture makes the samosas soggy. The poha helps absorb excess liquid. Let it cool.

Make small balls of the dough and roll out into thin pooris – you should be able to see your nails under the poori!

Cut each poori into half. Gather the two radii together and make each half into a cone.

Place a spoonful of filling into the cone and bring the circumference together. Seal the edges using the maida-water slurry.

Deep fry in batches – the oil should be medium hot. Too hot will make the surface erupt in large bubbles and the samosa will not be crisp. Too cool will make the samosas oily.

Remove and drain on paper.

And Laloo-ji – huh… where IS he? Bihar mein tho nahin hain? (He’s disappeared from Bihar) – defeated by the tiny samosa – henceforth to be known as the MIGHTY Samosa!

P.S.: One more trick or kituku – before you start frying the samosas in oil, fry 2-3 flakes of garlic in the oil and remove. The samosas will have an absolutely divine fragrance 🙂

“But what is in this? It smells… weird,” says husband of a few months.

“What do you mean, weird?” And suddenly wondering whether I’ve put in peri-peri instead of tomato paste or something equally horrendous, I bend over and smell it. Smells good. Great, in fact. Pick up a spoon and try a little. It tastes even better than it smells.

Turn back to husband. “It’s simply superb. Are you sickening for something, by any chance?” and I solicitously take his temperature. Purrfect 98.4C.

Ask him to try a litle more but he doesn’t. Makes a face, in fact! Humpphh… too bad… I’ve spent much time and effort on creating this kofte ki subzi and I have NO intention of letting it go to waste… nor of making something else! So I feast on pulao and koftas while hubby makes do with a pickle! Am still puzzled about what he found wrong with it because the more of it I polish off, the more I like it!

That too because he’s told me earlier that koftas are one of his favourite “restaurant” foods. My koftas are pretty good – after all, I’ve eaten plenty of them at my friend Priya’s place and if a Kayasth household cannot turn out the best koftas… then… I’m a monkey’s aunt! It’s a different matter that I actually am – aunt ot many monkeys 😉 But we’re not discussing nephews and nieces here, only koftas!

The penny drops a few days later when we sit down to dine at a restaurant and husband dear orders his favourite food. This time, I’m paying attention and hear him tell the waiter, “Malai kofta bina lasan (or lassoong as he likes to pronounce it!).” Malai kofta without garlic!

“But how can they make it without garlic?” I ask.

“You see – they will”, he assures me confidently.

I’m sceptical, but willing to wait and see – after all, this is Madras and maybe they can turn out malai koftas without garlic. I don’t even see why anyone would want to eat them like that!

The waiter reassures my husband – yes, sir, yes sir, three bags full – stuff.

And comes back some twenty minutes later with our order – peas pulao and malai kofta. I get a whiff of the garlic as I serve myself and more than a whiff as I dig into it! Hubby happily tucks into it and polishes off the dish and orders seconds!

“But if you dislike garlic so much, how can you eat this? It’s full of garlic!” I ask.

“Oh, no, didn’t you hear me order and the waiter say yes?” – Hubby…

Well…

Then the penny drops, when I was making koftas earlier, the peeled pods of garlic – some 3-4 of them – were lying on the kitchen counter in plain sight – so he KNEW there was garlic in the curry and therefore all the nakhras! Here, the waiter (whom we’ve never seen in our lives and probably never will again!) assures him that there is no garlic and he buys it!

Philip Kotler’s marketing lessons all begin to make sense! It’s all about how you sell it – the customer will buy anything!

Also that  there is no limit to how much wool the customer is willing to pull over his/her own eyes! On several other occasions, at Chinese restaurants, hubby finishes off the little bowls of sweet chili-garlic sauce and keeps asking for more. The obvious question from the family has to be answered – about garlic. “Oh, no, there is no garlic in this,” he replies quite blithely!

Ah well… it’s always been useful anyway – he’s eaten and enjoyed spaghetti with loads of garlic and been none the wiser for it!

Here’s the low fat kofta that we make today…

VEGETABLE KOFTA WITH NO GARLIC (wink, wink!):

FOR THE KOFTAS

• Besan/gram flour – 2 tbsp
• Boiled peas – mashed slightly – 1/4 cu
• Boiled, grated potatoes- 2 small or 1 large
• Paneer/cottage cheese – grated – 3 tbsp
• Kasuti methi – 1 tsp
• Cumin/jeera powder – 1/2 tsp
• Red chili powder – 1/4 tsp
• Amchur/dry mango powder – 1/4 tsp
• Minced green chilies – 2
• Breadcrumbs or gulab jamun mix – 2 tbsp
• Fresh coriander – chopped 2 tbsp
• Salt
• Asafoetida – 1 pinch

Mix everything together except the gulab jamun mix (if using). Let it rest for about ten minutes.

Then add the breadcrumbs OR gulab jamun mix and mix together till it just holds together and is reasonably firm and not watery.

Using the paniyaram pan, make small balls of the mixture and fry pouring a few drops of oil into the bottom of each pan.

Cover and cook till the bottom is golden brown. Turn over with a skewer and cook, uncovered till the other side is also done. Set aside the koftas.

FOR THE GRAVY

• Onions – 2 medium
• Garlic (keep it quiet!) – 2 flakes
• Ginger – 1/2″ piece
• Cashewnuts – 6-7

Grind these together to a fine paste.

• Tomatoes – 4 large
• Kasooti methi – 1 tsp
• Cumin seeds – 1/4 tsp
• Coriander powder/dhania – 1/2 tsp
• Minced green chilies – 2
• Red chili powder – 1/2 tsp
• Garam masala powder – 1/2 tsp
• Tej patta/bay leaf – 1
• Cardamoms – 2
• Saunf/fennel seeds – optional – 1 large pinch
• Turmeric  – 1/2 tsp
• Oil or ghee – 2 tbsp
• Sugar – 1/2 tsp
• Salt

Grind together the tomatoes, kasooti methi and cardamoms to a smooth paste.

METHOD

Heat the oil or ghee in a pan and caramelise the sugar in it.

Add cumin seeds, fennel seeds, bay leaf, minced green chilies and stir for a few seconds.

Add the ground onion paste and fry till the raw smell of onion is gone. Add the tomato paste and the powders and cook for about ten to twelve minutes till the gravy is smelling quite irresistable!

Add the koftas and simmer for a few minutes more.

Switch off and garnish with cream and coriander if you’re feeling thin and a ladleful of milk if you’re feeling un-thin! Serve with plain white basmati rice and/or paranthas.

And after a long hiatus, I have a guest post today – am so excited! My dear, dear friend Priya, who’s stood by me through thick and thin and who I don’t ever have to turn around and see to know she’s batting in my corner, has contributed this story of how we met – 33 years ago on our first day in college.

I must tell you a little bit about Priya’s tiffin dabba here – a dabba that reached college along with her at 10.00 a.m. (Nizami timings for Nizam College those days!) and would go back into her bag at 10.15, suitably lightened – by Shreesha and me! I still miss your dabba, Priya!

Over to Priya:

I met Anu on the first day of College 33 years ago. A tiny waif of a girl with the proverbial 18 inch waist and glasses covering half her face, and I was to realise soon enough that her size was more than compensated for by a huge delightful personality! She was lost to the world, busy reading a book of poetry by Robert Frost and that made me stop right in front of her. Everything about her seemed perfect to me and I decided I had to be her friend. It is now 33 years later and I have found no reason to change my mind and I stand firmly by the wise decision I made that day!!

It was my good fortune that she collected oddballs and decided I would do too!

And speaking of friends lost, it was during one of those years, I had invited a group of college friends home for a meal. It was the middle of summer and since, at that time, I lived in an unknown area of the cantonment – army accommodation, known as Allenby Lines in Bolarum; very elaborate instructions to reach had been given to all my friends along with bus numbers and a map. Hyderabad summers being what they are – every one trooped in- hot and sweaty, but there was no sign of Anu. Finally a call made my fears come true. Sure enough, Anu had boarded a wrong bus and landed up at least a few kilometers away. It was a time of no cell phones, no cars either and a call from a PCO made one panic.

Luckily we were young and had no bones creaking yet, so I trekked in 40 degrees plus temperatures to rescue her. I drank only water for the rest of the day. The heat and the adventure had no effect on Anu and after all her troubles, cheerfully tucked into the various vegetarian dishes cooked, which was a rarity in our Hyderabadi home where the menu is usually the biryani, kabab and chicken variety! The dulmas were on the menu that day and are today! The picture is from the internet as I will only cook lauki when Anu is visiting!

Here’s to many more lunches Anu and dinners !!

Lauki ke Dulme (Stuffed Lauki)

• 1 long narrow soft lauki cut in 2 inch pieces and scooped out to form cups
• Moong dal soaked 1 cup or fresh paneer if you like!
• Onion paste of 4 medium onions
• Tomato puree of 3-4 tomatoes
• Ginger grated – a teaspoon
• Ginger garlic paste – 1 teaspoon
• Green chilies – sliced fine
• Green coriander – chopped
• Mixed whole spices – a few cloves, cardamom, a stick of cinnamon, pepper corns, jeera seeds
• Garam masala- ground
• Red chillies powder – to taste
• Salt –to taste
• Turmeric powder- a pinch
• Oil – a couple of tablespoons

Using a largish flat bottomed pan, heat the oil.

Add mixed spices to the oil, when the jeera starts spluttering add the onion paste and cook till done.

Add the ginger garlic paste and fry for a few minutes more.

Add the tomatoes,salt, the other spices and lower the heat and allow the gravy to cook.

In a separate plate, mix the dal with salt, red chillies, garam masala, some green chillies, green dhania, grated ginger and mix well.

Stuff this mixture into the lauki cups.

Check if the gravy is well cooked, then add the cups of lauki, keeping them straight.

Add water and cook covered on low heat.

Add more water if and when needed.

Check to see if the dal and lauki is cooked, it should be done in about 20 minutes.

The vegetable should be cooked but firm and the same with the dal.

Carefully lift each lauki cup onto a flat dish and then pour the gravy on the sides.

Sprinkle the green dhania and green chillies on top and serve.

And long live poetry, Priya!

There was an item in this morning’s Times which made my jaw drop a couple of inches… for a while, I thought maybe TOI was playing a practical joke on its viewers – then decided it couldn’t be! In which case, the news must be true! The Bareilly district administration, in its wisdom, apparently has decided to tackle the menace of “killer” dogs – which have killed as many as five kids in the last week, by – hold your breath – painting the “good” (their term, not mine!) dogs blue! So… the implication being, first they’ll catch all the dogs, wait for a while, watch their behaviour, getting whiny? Off with you to the red (seems an appropriate colour for ‘bad’ dogs) compound! Getting snappy? Growly? Sleepy? Dopey? All away to the bad dog enclosure. Let only Snow White stay here!

Good dog? Bully – sorry – blue for you!

Why blue? Maybe like the characters in Amar Chitra Katha where the gods were generally blue in colour – like Rama and Krishna. Ergo good doggy is a blue doggy! But, that’s not the end of it. How do they intend to do it? By pouring buckets of thick blue paint on them! No, I’m really not making this up! But… there are concerns that since the painting of dogs (I can’t quite believe i’m saying this!) is being done by the bucketful, the paint may enter their eyes and damage them – they don’t specify whether it’s the eyes of the dogs or the painters! My own preference would be for the admistrators who thought up the scheme to be the first guinea… dogs! It does get curiouser and curiouser!

Some wag in the village apparently objected – on the grounds that Holi (the festival of colours) is round the corner and with colours being sprayed around freely, what if we ended up with multi-coloured dogs? So the administration has an answer to that too – “We will mark the blue dogs with a cross. We will also try to modify their behaviour!”

Do you too feel like you’re slipping down the same hole that Alice went down?

So, if a pack of dogs is after you, do NOT take to your heels. Stop, turn back, look carefully for blue undertones under the pinks, yellows and oranges of Holi colours. Yay, here’s a cross – under the dog’s left ear – no, no, that’s not a cross – is this one i see here under his belly? Nooooo, that’s not a cross either! Oh my god, I think that’s his fangs closing in on my throat – my eyes are crossed – he’s so close!

Ta-dang! THE END! KHALAS! FINITO!

Fadeout to the colour of bloodshot skies – very appropriate.

P.S.: The villagers are “not convinced” reports the Times. They must be amused though!

While on the subject of dogs, I vote to outlaw the phrase ”a dog’s life” meaning a sad, unenviable, put-upon life. Most dogs I see as pets seem to lead rather enviable lives – pampered and petted and handfed with the choicest of titbits – my brother-in-law’s dog will eat dosa only if it has ghee and sugar to go with it and even then, only if you break the dosa into delicate bits and ever so gently tempt him with piece after piece! A dog’s life? I, for one, wouldn’t mind it – and the dog doesn’t even have to make the dosa himself! All prasadam from pujas is offered first to him – the doted upon younger ‘son’! Gotta admit, he is cute, though 😉

So, on a more practical note – well, more practical than what the Bareilly administration – till now it was famous in my mind for Mrs IG’s ‘safe seat’ for the elections and the song Jhumka gira re, Bareilly ki bazaar mein (meaning “the earring has fallen down, in the bazaar of Bareilly”): Does THAT make any sense to you? Hmmm… NOW, maybe the whole dog thing begins to make sense – the same administration must have written the song – same inanity – that’s it! Let’s look for a solution to the dog menace. Methinks feeding the dogs might help! Will contribute my vegetarian mite to these bloodthirsty hounds… with any luck they’ll turn Jain!

Also since Holi is round the corner, cool them off with this…

THANDAI

• Milk – 1 litre – preferably full cream milk
• Sugar 3 – 4 tbsp
• Saffron strands – a large pinch

MASALA PASTE

• Almonds – 20-25
• Poppy seeds (gasagasa/ kaskas) – 2 tsp
• Saunf/fennel seeds – 1.5 tsp
• Cardamoms – 5-6
• Peppercorns – 1/2 tsp
• Cinnamon – 1″
• Dried rose petals – a few or rose essence though I personally prefer kewra essence – 3 drops

Grind together to a very fine paste and set aside.

Boil the milk and add the sugar – a tbsp at a time, stirring till it melts.

Add the saffron and keep stirring.

Lower the flame, add the masala paste and continue to cook, stirring constantly. Otherwise lumps will form and the dogs might just spit it out!

Cook for about 5 minutes more. Switch off, chill and serve.

And who made the dogs blue? Who.? Who?

P.S.: I am in hiding till you get over the shock of this sacrilege on the lyrics of “Who let the dogs out?!!

Loads of reading, loads of playing Quiz up on the ipad and generally loads of being lazy without ANY feeling of guilt – the aftermath of an operation is not that bad except for the pain! A cousin lent me this unusual little book yesterday – an English translation of a very old Telugu tome called “Chinnanaati mucchatlu” – the closest I can think of in terms of translation is “Reminiscences of Childhood” – anyone out there who’s got a better word – please write in. It’s a sort of autobiography of Dr.K.N.Kesari – a late 18th century – to mid 19th century Ayurvedic physician and his story of rags to riches. It is a simply told tale – reasonably poor translation (!) but with a wealth of detail about South India as it was then and some strange customs extant among different communities. Our hero, a Telugu guy, ends up marrying a Namboodiri girl as his second wife – his observations are fresh and related with some gentleness but with some aavakai like punch!

It was like a walk down memory lane – not my lane but my great grandfathers’! Kept thinking of my maternal grandmother and trying to see the commonalities (not many!) between her life and the lives of many of the women who feature in his story. Though my grandmom was a regular contributor of articles and poems to the magazine that he started for women – called “Grihalakshmi”…

Some discussion on fb today led me to track down something that my grandmom – Nemali Chandramathi – had written and published in 1949, tracked down by my aunt – Malathi Mohan a few years ago. Ammamma was lucky to be born and married into a family which held women in high esteem and brought up their daughters to have a good sense of self-worth. In an age where she must have witnessed less happy women all around, no wonder Ammamma came up with this little gem – a rejoinder to Shakespeare’s Ode to Woman, Ammamma titled hers “Ode to Man”…

A Rejoinder to William Shakespeare by Smt. N. Chandramathi

WOMAN !

Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper,

Thy head, thy sovereign.

One that cares for thee.

And for thy maintenance, commits his body

To painful labour, both by sea and land,

To watch the night in storms,

The day in cold,

Whilst thou liest warm at home, secure and safe;

And craves no other tribute at thy hands

But love, Fair looks, and trice obedience.

Too little payment for so great a debt!”

And the original, William Shakespeare, “Taming of the Shrew”:

MAN !

Thy wife is thy life, thy nurse, thy partner,

Thy friend, thy queen.

One that cares for thee.

And for thy children, by day and night,

In health and illness,

Whilst thou or on thy duty,

Away from home;

And craves no other tribute at thy hands

But love, kind words, and sympathy.

Too little a payment for so great a debt!

How’s those for period pieces – of two very different periods – separated by four centuries!

I think my grandfather was a very lucky man indeed!! A wife who thought so highly of men in general – can’t have been more than one born in those four hundred years between Shakespeare and her 😉

One of my favourites of my ammamma’s dishes was bread upma – which she transform into something quite magical! Today I’ve decided to go a step further and present my own take – a non-bread upma!

BORUGULA UPMA/UGGANI (to serve one large husband or two smaller ones 😉

Borugulu/murmura/puffed rice – 6 cups

Onions – finely chopped – 1 cup

Peanuts – roasted – 1/2 cup

Turmeric – 1/2 tsp

Red chili powder – 1/2 tsp

Green chilies – minced – 2

Coriander leaves – chopped – 2 tbsp

Lemon juice – 1 tbsp

Salt – 1/4 tsp (the puffed rice is already salty so you don’t really need more salt.

Sugar – 1/2 tsp

TO TEMPER

Oil – 1 tbsp

Mustard seeds – 1/2 tsp

Chana dal – 1 tbsp

Urad dal – 1 tbsp

Curry leaves – 2 -3 sprigs

Asafoetida – 1 pinch

Soak the puffed rice in water for no more than 2-3 minutes. Immediately strain out the water and squeeze out excess water with your hands. Set aside.

Heat the oil in a large saucepan. Add the mustard. When it splutters, add chana dal and urad dal. When they turn golden, add curry leaves and asafoetida.

Add onions and saute till they turn golden. Add all the other ingredients, turn over for 2-3 minutes  and serve – warm.

Super quick snack – man, woman or child – this is an ode to the tastebuds and the stomach!