Of forbidden fruit and attempts to be “cool”!

soup

Everyone goes through those rites of passage of growing up – trying the forbidden cigarette and the first glass of alcohol – whichever generation you belong to. I wonder what would happen to these if all the forbidden stuff – the “don’t dos” were removed from parental vocabularies! Kids would wear hangdog expressions and go about with a constant halo of depression – inwardly shrugging, “What are we gonna do? What are we gonna do?” I can smoke, drink, swear all I want and be no cooler than the kid next door sucking on his lollipop! How can I ever be “cool”?? Teenagers, please be aware that parents serve an important function – of administering anti-depressants like forbidding stuff and allowing you to break the “forbids” and be “uber-cool”!

In our own childhood, it wasn’t that there weren’t plenty of fruit available – Hyderabad is after all the land of cheap and plentiful fruit – but rather the thrill of stealing into the neighbours’ grape garden, tantalising the gardener with just a glimpse of our hides (which it was his duty to try and whip!) before scrambling over the fence to safety – no, we never got caught – ten and twelve year old legs are far too nimble for any forty plus OOOOLD guy to catch!

Imagine a world where parents allow everything – what a deprived childhood and adolescence kids would have!

My parents rarely expressly forbade anything – but rules were understood. And retribution swift and direct enough to deter us!

Despite that, obvious temptations did present themselves – one being smoking. My dad being a heavy smoker and me being allergic to nicotine did not kill the secret desire to blow smoke rings through a looong cigarette holder – how totally cool! And so, one day, a bunch of us – we were in the tenth standard then, i think – about fifteen-ish, met up at the home of a friend who had the luxury of having an outhouse in the back garden. Her dad, being a film producer, a lot of film props were stored in the outhouse. We had a glorious time trying on false moustaches teamed with glittery, sequined outfits and shiny plastic boots – i don’t think we could have thought ourselves cooler if we’d been at the North Pole!

The “boy” – it’s a wonder how many of the species existed in households those days – their jobs being to do odd jobs around the house while they learnt a trade – was bribed to go fetch us a packet of cigarettes – cheap ones obviously! Then we shut all the windows and doors and send out the boy again – cigarettes don’t light themselves, you know – you need matchsticks! Everyone lights up – never having had a particularly active Scouts and Guides movement at school, this takes some doing! And in two minutes flat, there is gasping, heaving and much retching as we flop about on the sofas trying to breathe! Some make it to the bathroom before puking, some….hmmmm…the hardier souls open the windows and doors and flap the curtains about to let some air in! There wasn’t one of us who wasn’t sick!

You think we’d have learnt our lesson, right? No, wrong!

Some years later, at my PG hostel mess, a cigarette salesman comes in, dressed to the nines as befits a salesman – selling to a bunch of scruffy students! There are two of us women sitting at the first table and a few guys at a table beyond us. The salesman passes us and moves to the table with the guys and whips out his packets of “Charms”.

“Gender”-ed ire is aroused. We beckon to him to come over. He comes over – warily and a bit nervous – this was 1985 after all! And for his pains receives a lecture on gender equality, his morals and so on! Poor chap – completely overwhelmed and sweating profusely by this time, apologises and offers us free samples! Nonchalantly, we light up, hiding our lack of expertise rather expertly! The effect is ruined within a few seconds as we run out of the mess, coughing our lungs out!

The salesman must have been devoutly grateful for his payback time! As were the roomful of guy students who got their laughs for the day!

What better way to hide those giveaway smells of smoking than mints? Or today, mint!

Here’s an all in one meal dish that freezes superbly and doesn’t need even bread to go with it!

 TURKISH MASOOR DAL SOUP WITH MINT (makes 10-12 cups)

  • Masoor dal – 1 cup
  • Onion – 1 medium – chopped
  • Garlic – 2 cloves – optional
  • Tomato – 2 large – chopped – about 2 cupfuls
  • Carrot – 2 – peeled and sliced
  • 1/2 cup rice – either Basmati or any fragrant rice
  • Red chili powder – 1/2 tsp
  • Salt
  • Turmeric – 1/4 tsp
  • Butter – 1 tbsp
  • Dried mint – 2 tbsp (use any other dried herb for a different flavour)
  • Jeera – cumin powder – 1/2 tsp
  • Green chili – minced – 1 – to serve – optional
  • Chopped fresh mint and coriander to serve – 3 tbsp
  • Sugar – 1/2 tsp
  • Cinnamon – 1″ stick.
  • Thick yogurt to serve – 1 cup – whipped

Heat the butter in a large pan – I use a pressure cooker – large one. Add the butter and the sugar. When the sugar caramelises, add the onion and garlic and sweat, covered for 6-7 minutes till translucent.

Add the carrots, tomatoes, salt, chili powder, cumin powder, turmeric and rice and dal.

Add 5 cups water and cook for about 40 minutes till rice and dal are soft. You could cook it under presssure by adding just 3-4 cups water. 

Cool and puree – either in batches or using a bar blender – to a reasonably smooth puree. 

Add 4-5 cups more water and bring back to the boil. Add a stick of cinnamon at this stage for added flavour.

Serve out in bowls sprinkling minced green chili (if you like a bit of heat) and coriander and mint and a dollop of yogurt.

It’s a hearty soup and you don’t really need anything to accompany it with.

And if you’re still craving that cigarette, just smoke the tomatoes on the stovetop, peel and chop – there’s just the hint of smokiness!

Of city brats deprived of villages and nerds of long ago…

“Snehalatha… Neeroo… Sudharani… Kanaka… Zehra… Aruna…” and the list goes on as the team captains pick their teams for a game of throwball… and finally, for no other reason except that one of them is stuck with me and probably likes me :)… more likely because they have no choice… Anuradha… last one to be picked for the team… can’t throw, can’t catch and can’t even be relied on to get the ball acroos the net! Thankfully, I’m not in a sports-mad school and it being an academic sort of place, I can get away with being THE nerd! I suspect I’d have had a tougher time in a school today or in a different country where nerds are marginalised.

One of the nicest things about growing up in the India of a few decades ago was the total acceptance of where people came from and variances in dress, behaviour, even food! There were kids whose parents wouldn’t let them come to movies because “cinemas” were a corrupting influence on young minds! Kids who brought aavakai rice only for lunch everyday (i did envy those!). Kids who were not allowed to eat in other kids’ houses for some reason we couldn’t fathom. Kids who couldn’t come on school picnics because parents couldn’t afford the buck or half a buck that it cost. There was none of the cruelty of exclusion that we read about today – that you are either “in” or a pariah! Peer pressure was unheard of and i think did not exist at any level. No living up to the Joneses, no birthday parties to be outdone, no foreign holidays to be bragged about though what i did long for was a village holiday that all my friends seemed to take for granted – we were the poor, deprived completely city-fied kids who didn’t even have a village to go back to!

Which is probably how I got away with being so bad at games that NO ONE wanted me on their teams! Sigh… till I discovered a talent for word games and all varieties of card games which did NOT involve any kind of bat or ball or getting up and running! That habit unfortunately led to an lifelong struggle with the weighing scales as I discovered later in life!

I also got to be quite a decent hand at table tennis in my teens and so managed to breeze past those tough years till we get to boasting to our children about how we studied under the lamp post (going by the stories, that was everyone in my parents’ generation). Boy, those lamp posts must have been pretty crowded! Bet some enterprising soul could have sold tickets to the dress circle (immediately under), balcony (next circle) and the “junta class” third circle where you got to squint at your books! How we were so good at all games – and no, with a sports-mad husband, a swimmer for an older kid and an athlete for a younger kid, wisdom lay in staying out of the sweepstakes!

Food was just as egalitarian – what grew in the backyard, what was sent to some lucky sods from their “native” villages (i later found out that these selfsame lucky sods thought WE were the lucky sods because we bought everything in shops – it had to be better, no?!) , leftovers from lunch plus additions for dinner. Leftovers are great provided they are in the form of vegetables! Till today, not having my veggies makes me feel seriously deprived and one my favourites of all time is the very ‘umble, very everyday…

 

VANKAAYA KOORA/ BRINJAL/ EGGPLANT/KATHRIKAI/BADNEKAI/BAINGAN CURRY

 

I can’t live without my “koora podi” – curry powder – not the British stuff but the South Indian one made with a few variations in most Andhra and Kannadiga households. So let’s do that first and then the curry itself

 

KOORA PODI

 

  • Urad dal – 1 cup
  • Chana dal – 1 cup
  • Thuvar dal – 1 cup
  • Asafoetida – 1 pinky nail sized lump (gorantha)
  • Red chilies – 2 cups or 1/2 cup red chili powder
  • Dhaniya – coriander seeds – 1 tbsp

 

Dry roast, cool and grind togther all the ingredients. If using chili powder, don’t roast, just drop it on top of the other hot, roasted ingredients and let the whole thing cool before grinding. This podi can be stored for weeks without refrigeration and is a great taste booster to everyday okra, green plantain, potato, carrot, beetroot – any other curry.

 

KOORA

 

  • Brinjal – 1/2 kg – wash, remove stalks and cut into 1″ chunks. Drop them into water to which a little turmeric has been added.
  • Koora podi – 3 tbsp
  • Onion – chopped – 1 – optional
  • Green chili – minced – 1 or 2
  • Ginger – 1/2 ” piece – grated
  • Sesame oil – 1 tbsp
  • Salt
  • Curry leaves
  • Mustard seeds – 1/2 tsp
  • Urad dal – 1/2 tsp
  • Jeera – cumin seeds – 1/2 tsp

 

Heat the oil in  a saucepan. Add the mustard seeds. When they begin to pop, add the urad dal, jeera and curry leaves. Add minced chili, ginger and onion and fry till golden yellow. Drain and add the brinjal pieces. Add the salt. Stir everything together well. Cover and cook, stirring occasionally. When they are about half done, add the koora podi and cook, covered, till almost done. Remove lid and continue to roast for a few minutes till the vegetable becomes a little crisp again.

 

And I promise to make this if you pick me for your throwball team!

Of horses’ nosebags and irritating younger sisters!

carrom seed rice

“Anu, thinanu, pleeezanu, thinanu” (Anu, pleeeze eat) my brother Anand’s voice pleading with me every morning as I stuff  my mouth full of food in an attempt to oblige! I would slowly masticate my way through the food matter stored in my cheeks all the way to school in the rickshaw – a distance of some four – odd kilometres…

I had just joined school and since my school was close enough to my brothers’ school, we used to share a rickshaw for the ride. I am sure that till the littler sister joined, my brothers were nearly always on time to school – them not being “problem” children to get ready, have breakfast and so on… I, on the other hand, being three years old, neither knew nor cared what time was… and so the resultant pleading from older brother…

My parents coaxed, yelled, cajoled, bribed, punished, had ‘serious talks’ and the like over the years  in an attempt to get me eat faster. “I’m going to tie a horse’s nose bag around your mouth so you can graze,” my dad used to hold out over me. Other than an interesting speculation on how I would look at school with a nose bag hanging around my neck and also whether it would get my parents off my case, the whole thing slid right off my back!

I don’t think I ever managed to finish my lunch at school. The school taps used to be shut off after lunch leaving me with no way to wash my hands – and thus I discovered a new use for the pockets in uniforms!

Sundays at home were easier – there was no bell to ring at the end of lunch hour and I was left to finish off while my parents went off for their much-prized once-a-week afternoon nap; the brothers went off to play cricket or whatever. People would wake up, cricket matches would get over and family would trickle back home for high tea to find me at the table – still eating lunch!!

The only thing that I could eat faster – in a matter of two hours rather than three being considerably faster – was various mixed rice combinations – “kalanda saadams” as they are known in the part of the country where I now live – coconut rice, tamarind rice, pulao or even the humble ghee and appadam rice combo – have always loved these.

My leisurely camel-hump regurgitating, cud-chewing life came abruptly to an end – with the birth of my first child. It was either eat before baby wakes up/spits up/poops/wants a feed or not eat at all! Well going by the pounds I’ve put on, you don’t need to phone a friend / poll the audience to guess which I chose!

For some reason, “kalanda saadams” tend to taste better when they are made with leftover rice rather than the freshly cooked variety. Great way to use up the previous day’s rice for a yummy breakfast… presenting one of my family’s favourites – omam rice.

OMAM / AJWAIN/CAROM SEED RICE

Left over rice- 3 cups – separate with your fingers

Peanuts – roasted – ½ cup
Onion chopped – ½ cup
Omam seeds / ajwain/carom – 1 tsp
Mustard seeds – ¼ tsp
Chana dal – 1 tsp
Urad dal – 1 tsp
Curry leaves – 1 sprig
Asafoetida -1 large pinch
Pepper – ¼ tsp
Green chiles – slit – 4
Chopped mint and/or coriander – 2 tbsp
SaltOil- 1 tbsp

 

Heat the oil in a pan. Add the mustard seeds and when they pop, add the chana dal and urad dal. Let the dals turn golden brown. Add the peanuts, omam, onions, curry leaves, asafoetida and green chilies.. Turn over a couple of times. Add the rice, pepper and salt and mix well. Sprinkle a little water on top.Cover and cook for 5-6 minutes on a low flame till the flavours are blended. Switch off and sprinkle the herbs on top.

Take your time eating it. Take a couple of hours… what’s the hurry?

Of gorillas, budget birthday parties and cakes…

“Let’s figure out how much this is going to cost us, okay?” Two very interested kids – at 8 and 4 – sitting in front of me while i outline how we’re going to do a budgeting exercise – for a birthday party. Having just bought a new flat, we’re neck deep in debt but birthday parties are high on the list of priorities!  And so starts a budgeting exercise aimed at teaching the kids about how to manage money and how much stuff costs. Once they figure out what this is about, suggestions flow in fast including one from Kanch who suggests placing her tiny , black gorilla doll – one of the freebies we used to get in the Binaca toothpaste cartons – on the cake – to save money on icing!!!

Food items are listed – potato patties, burgers, watermelon juice instead of Coke, sprout chaat (from Kanch again who has a ‘thing for sprouts!), devilled eggs (from Arch who has an equal ‘thing’ about eggs!), fruit trifle, the all-important return gifts chosen and so on..birthday cakes having always been home made and home-iced, we only have to decide on a theme- based on Kanchu’s helpful gorilla suggestion!

Armed with papers and pencils, we traipsed off to the shops. Much calculating – with help from Amma – happened. Some things were dropped as “so costly”! Others added. A couple of hours later, we returned home, with the kids feeling very grown up – after all, they had helped to run the household budget! Obviously much showing off happened in school over the next few days!!

Party day dawned and much slaving over the stove with even Kanch “helping” with sandwiches and laying out food and generally putting away stuff – for which i had to do some major hunting later on! The gorilla took pride of place on the cake – a lemon sponge. And so….on a budget of 800 rupees, we had what was voted one of the best birthday parties ever!

Presenting today’s dish – the gorilla’s throne :

LEMON SPONGE

  • 180 gm plain flour
  • 160 gm sugar – powdered
  • 100 gm butter (I used Amul table butter)
  • 50 ml sunflower or olive oil
  • 3 medium eggs
  • Baking powder – 1.5 tsp
  • Vanilla essence – 1 tsp
  • Yogurt – 2 tbsp (optional)
  • Grated zest of 2 lemons or 1 LARGE lemon
  • Juice of 2 lemons with 2 tbsp sugar dissolved in it

Put everything except the lemon zest and juice and mix up a storm. Add the zest, swirl it in and pour into a baking tray. Bake in an oven preheated to 180C for 25 to 30 minutes till golden brown on top and a skewer inserted in the centre comes out clean. Switch off. /while still hot, brush the lemon-sugar syrup over the top of the cake and return to the warm oven. Serve when cool. Super light, super tangy and altogether very gorilla-ey!!

(pics courtesy internet)

Rava laddoos: Of Birthday parties, laddoos and small “assistants”

The year is 1975. The place – Vizag. The occasion – the first birthday of the twin ‘babies’ of the family. My uncle and aunt have invited the whole colony and some 200 people are expected to turn up. The house has been busy for several days with various aunts, not to mention us small fry pitching in to “help” with making loads of goodies for the party.More about this “help” later on!
Birthday parties were not so common in Indian homes back then and catered parties were undreamt of! Soft drinks (luxuries) bottles arrived and were stored in large drums full of ice – serious depredations happened on our particular favourite – a sickly sweet mango concoction imaginatively named “Mangola”! Said depredations were quickly brought to a close by my uncle discovering some 30 empty bottles neatly hidden in the bushes!
My aunts were busy making “boondi laddoos” for a crowd of 200, not counting family – another 30 or so staying in the house. My brother Arvind was roped in to help them count the laddoos – haha! The aunts parked themselves on the floor next to the dining table and the laddoos were made and handed over to Arvind who was supposed to lay them out in neat rows on the white table cloth and count them. About an hour later, my aunt asked him to count and tell them how many were there – by her reckoning, there should have been about a 100.
Arvind counted the rows and the columns many times up and down and down and up and sideways but the number stayed firm – a grand total of THIRTEEN! Summary dismissal happened – now we KNOW how laid-off employees feel on getting the little pink slip – except that they don’t have a stomach full of laddoos to console them!
Boondi laddoos are a time consuming affair but rava laddoos can be dished up with the most basic cookery skills! And i assure you, these will disappear just as fast!
Rava laddoos
Rava(semolina) – 1.5 cups
Powdered sugar – 3/4 cup
Cardamoms- powdered – 3
Pacha karpooram (edible camphor) – 1 teensy weensy bit – about the size of a mustard seed
Saffron – few strands dissolved in 2 tbsp of warm milk
Ghee – 1/4 cup
Cashew nuts – 2 tbsp
Almonds – 2 tbsp
Raisins – 2 tbsp
Milk – 3 tbsp
Heat the ghee in a pan and add the cashews, almonds and raisins. Stir till the raisins puff up and the cashew are golden. Remove from the ghee and set aside. Add the rava and stir for 7-8 minutes till it’s golden. Add the sugar and stir for 3-4 minutes more. Add the nuts and raisins, milk and saffron milk and mix well. Switch off – it should be the consistency of a heavy sludge – easier to shape. Let cool a bit till you can handle it. Dip your palms in cold milk and shape the mxture into balls.
Set aside for about an hour to dry before storing in a tin. Do NOT eat while shaping! Count. Whaaaatt??? Only 3??? What happened to the other 15???