My Daddy’s the bestest!

shakarpara

Avuna, Daddy?”, and three heads swing in my father’s direction as we ask him for confirmation. “Is that really so?”

My mom’s already answered the question – these questions are in the nature of – “If an elephant and a crocodile fight, who would win?” or “If a tiger and a crocodile fight, who will win?” or “Who is the more powerful god – Vishnu or Indra?” and so on it went – the very serious concerns of childhood, which could take a whole summer to settle and then spilt over – unless we forgot! Or moved on to the next weighty concern!

Mom would have considered the question and said something like, “If the fight is on land, the tiger will win. If in water, the croc” –  or something eminently sensible like that. But was it enough? To have our mother arbitrate on such weighty matters? No way – it needed a dad for that! And therefore, the constant turning to him to ratify what Mummy had answered – like an appeal to a Supreme Court! And based on my dad’s response, we would then take the fight to the outside world – fighting with anyone who dared dispute this almost Constitutional ruling! After all, “my  daddy’s strongest/brightest/best” has been true in the eyes of children all the way from Cain and Abel to my generation! It seems to have changed though and the tables are now reversed – at least in my home – much to my husband’s disgust!

My parents read – constantly and eclectically – the classics –  in English and their own languages, modern fiction, travel books, poetry, news magazines and these were constant subjects of discussion at the table. My mother used to read to us every evening – I remember nodding off to Pickwick Papers for several months before sobbing away in distress at Oliver Twist’s and David Copperfield’s plights. When Dora, Davey’s first wife dies, I was shattered!

This also meant that I could always shut up friends who disputed my dad’s opinion on anything – by pointing to the books lining every shelf and empty space in our home and telling them that my dad  had read every one of these… so there!!!

Avuna, Daddy?” was a constant refrain through childhood. When my dad was away traveling on work, Mom would sometimes get fed up and tell us to ask Dad after he came back. So questions were saved up – with great solemnity and trotted out at the first dinnertime he was back! Have swung the whole pendulum from my parents don’t know anything (in my teens) to, in my fifties, wishing I could sometimes turn around and ask, “Avuna, Daddy?”!!

Food memories of my dad are always tied up with how fond he was of sweets and thick, “set” yogurt (his great joke went something like this: So an American comes to India and asks what “curds” is – our name for yogurt. So the Indian bhaiyya scratches his head for a while and eureka, comes up with this brilliant explanation: “Milk sleep in the night, early morning tight!!”)

While all sweets were grist to his mill (it’s a wonder he never got diabetes) I’m devoutly hoping, going by my brother’s and my own proclivities in the dessert direction, that we’ve inherited his genes!!

One of his favourite sweets was this very simple…

SHAKKAR PAARA

  • Maida/plain flour – 1.25 cups
  • Ghee – 1/2 cup
  • Salt – 1/4 tsp
  • Sugar – 1/3 cup (more if you have a sweet tooth)
  • Water – 1/2 cup
  • Oil for deep frying

Make a syrup of the sugar and water – a one-string syrup. Add ghee and salt. Let cool.

Add the maida and knead into a smooth dough.

Divide dough into balls – 3-4. Roll each out into a very thick chapathi – about 1/4 inch thick.

Cut with a knife into diamonds – about 1 cm each side.

Deep fry till golden brown and drain.

Are these better than biscuits? Ask your Daddy!!

Of how to train husbands and other relations – a course in Commando warfare!

rice adai

And continuing our Palghat sojourn… it looks like a speckled dosa, it feels like a really hard biscuit… you chew and chew and your jaws get tired-er and tired-er… but you are hooked on to it! It’s called a verum arisi adai (an adai with only rice). Adais are normally a mixed-dal kind of pancake with a bit of rice to make them crunchy but this one is like… well, chewy and hard and totally addictive for some reason! Maybe humans, like dogs, have an innate need to gnaw and the verumarisi adai is the perfect answer to this need!

Andhras tend to rely more on upmas of various kinds for morning breakfast or afternoon “tiffin” and the dosa and idli are basically Sunday items… at least that was how it was in my mom’s place when I was growing up. Dosas had to be accompanied by at least two kinds of chutney, potato curry and sambar – a serious amount of work for the cook!

Now, at my in-laws’ place, dosa and idli and adai were everyday dishes – one after the other – for breakfast or dinner! I found out that it was possible to eat these accompanied by nothing more than molaga podi or any of the leftovers from lunch – and found just how convenient they were! That, of course, came after getting used to not having our Hyderabadi brekkers of eggs and parathas or a full meal! The very idea of eggs with paratha was met with something akin to horror by hubby who thinks that eggs belong with toast and butter and marmalade – only on the breakfast table!

On one occasion in Bangalore, my brother-in-law who had come to visit me at the hostel and I decided to pick up a couple of old friends and go out to dinner. Unfortunately we got lost and finally reached their house only by about 9.30 in the evening – to find they had already had dinner and cleared up! The two of us must have been looking pretty ravenous – as we were – considering we’d spent close to two hours searching for their house! So his mom-in-law takes pity on two hungry young people and rustles up some absolutely delicious omelettes for us – with toast!

I am happy – FOOD!

B-i-l less so. Eggs for dinner?? Kaliyuga has arrived – says his look! If you haven’t figured out already, let me explain here that he shares his brother’s aversion to eggs outside of the breakfast table… or breakfast time

The good lady leaves the dining room (which is not the breakfast room now though that’s what it seems like to my b-i-l whose world has turned topsy-turvy! Quick as a flash, his omelette lands on my plate and he makes do with toast. I am delighted – with my extra omelette!

I was still a student and in hostel and hadn’t encountered the ‘verumarisi’ yet so these very strong antipathies were something of a puzzle. Being brought up by parents who were very strict about eating whatever was put on our plates, this catering to many likes and dislikes of the palate struck me as rather….weird (told y’all earlier I was polite!)

Hubby, after thirty years of commando-style training 🙂 – has learnt to eat new foods and not just the half a dozen dishes that he thinks are food! But it’s always easy to please him with these…chewy,,,,gnaw-y….but rather yummy….

VERUM ARISI ADAI WITH MURUNGELAI (RICE ADAIS WITH DRUMSTICK LEAVES):

  • Parboiled rice – 2 cups
  • Methi/fenugreek seeds – 1 tsp 
  • Salt
  • Grated fresh coconut – 1/4 cup (optional)
  • Tender drumstick leaves – see pic – 1/2 cup

Soak the rice and methi together for at east 3-4  hours. Grind with salt and coconut (if using) to a smooth batter. Set aside to ferment for 5-6 hours.

Add the drumstick leaves – whole and mix well. The batter for this is pretty thick.

Add a little water to the batter and pour a ladleful on a heated dosa pan. It takes some skill to spread this.

Small holes will form as you are spreading. Make another larger hole in the centre. Pour a tsp of oil (preferably sesame) around the adai and in the centre. Cook for a few minutes on a low heat and turn over and cook again – both sides should have golden brown spots.

This adai is high in iron – the drumstick leaves are “iron bombs”!

Serve with butter, any pickle, jaggery or my own personal favourite – sugar (white, refined, unhealthy and evil… but oh, so delicious!)

And as you chew, watch that double chin melt away as your jaws get more exercise than they’ve had since you had a pacifier in your mouth!

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!

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!

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!