Anu Chenji

“This is NOT the way we do things in this house,” a gruff voice accompanied by a stern look pronounces. The voice in itself is enough to make me quiver a bit but I was a very new bride and inclined to take liberties  – knowing I’d be forgiven! The owner of the voice and the pronouncer of doom is my husband’s grandfather – a truly grand old man and a proper patriarch – in the days when they still made patriarchs!

There are two of us who are receiving an admonition  – my brother-in-law and myself – but I get away with this whilst he goes on to get a royal trimming for not having brought home his “manni” (older sister-in-law/bhabhi, vadina/vaini – me!) on time – serious dereliction of duty which merits the court martial he gets!

There was a book fair in town and since my husband was busy, we’d decided to go on our own and meet up with the rest of family (including grandpop-in-law. Even referrring to him as grandpop seems sacrilegious; I feel like I should stand up and salute!) at a hospital later where we were to visit a cousin who was ill. We’d been instructed to meet them at half past five in the evening and strolled in, quite reasonably for a Hyderabadi, only a couple of hours later! We had quite a phalanx greeting us – said grandpop-in-law, father-in-law, another cousin and hubby dear – all pacing the lane outside the hospital. Not realizing anything was wrong, I greeted them with a cheerful “Hiii!” (I had been taught to be polite to elders, you see!), only to be greeted with a grunt in return – many grunts, actually! A closer look revealed that I was actually facing a phalanx of Bhishma mahaashay, Dronacharya and Yudhisthira ( the Mahabharata elders!) on a lane which eerily began to resemble Kurukshetra! 

My brother-in-law had been hopping around like a crocodile had gotten hold of his backside from 5 o’clock onwards, “Please, please let’s get going. We’ll be late!” I thought he was quite mad to suggest leaving, of all things, a book fair – before we’d quite had our fill! 

Now, the thing about growing up in my beloved Hyderabad is that when you say 7 o’clock or whatever o’clock, both parties to the agreement know that it means nine o’clock, a couple of hours later – this strange Madras habit of actually meaning 7 when you say 7 was very foreign and I could not for the life of me, wrap my head around it! Took me a few months but I did, finally! Otherwise, I don’t think I’d have gotten off so easily the first time around 🙂

This habit of being precise is something that is characteristic of Madras and reflected in many of the foods that Madras has to offer – the most famous of them all being the idli, of course!

A food that is close to perfect, perfect diet food, perfect food for the climate, perfect for bad tummies and good tummies – there is probably very little that approaches it in terms of sheer delightfulness and wholesomeness.

For all the dissenters out there, I must also tell you that my brother used to hate these so much, that everytime there were idlis for breakfast, he’d zoom off on his bike to eat his parantha omelette at a roadside eatery!

There are two equally great ways to make idlis – here’s both:

IDLI – METHOD 1

• Urad dal – 1 cup
• Parboiled idli rice – 2.5 cups
• Poha (beaten rice) – 1/2 cup – optional (soaked for half an hour)
• Salt

Soak urad dal and rice separately for 4-5 hours or overnight. Wash and drain. Add poha. Grind separately in the idli grinder if you have one to a smooth batter, adding about a glass and a half of water to get the right “dropping” consistency. If you do NOT have a grinder, grind in the mixer, opening frequently to aerate the mixture. Add salt and whip. Leave overnight in a warm place to ferment. It should almost double in volume.

Whip again and pour into idli moulds. Steam for 12-14 minutes on a high flame and switch off. Let cool for five minutes before de-moulding. Serve with coconut chutney/tomato chutney/sambar/milaga podi/chutney podi + sesame oil (see other posts on this blog). A few drops of ghee on each will actually make the already perfect food into ambrosia!

IDLI – METHOD 2

• Urad dal – 1 cup
• Idli rava – 2.5 cups
• Poha – 1/2 cup
• Salt

Soak only the urad dal for a few hours. The rava can be soaked for just about an hour. Drain the rava, grind and add to the ground urad dal batter. Proceed the same way as above.

COCONUT CHUTNEY (of which there a million and this is just one!)

• 1 cup grated fresh coconut
• 1/4 cup fried gram/putani/pottu kadalai/putnala pappu
• Ginger – 1 cm piece
• Green chilies – 2
• Asafoetida – 1 pinch
• Salt
• Lemon juice – 1 tsp
• Sugar – 1 pinch
• Coriander leaves – 2 tbsp (optional)

Grind everything together to a medium coarse chutney consistency, add a couple of tbsp of water.Season by heating 1 tsp oil and frying 1/4 tsp mustard seeds, 1/2 tsp urad dal and 1 sprig curry leaves.

And once you have this, maybe you too (even if you are a Hyderabadi) may learn to be ‘properly punctual’ like the Tamilian!

 P.S. I have a standing grouse against the OED for not including the word “idli” in the dictionary – and I’ve been waiting for the new word lists every year… this year too, they disappoint!

Har marz ki dawa – Zinda Tilismath!

Veritably and definitely not very modestly touted as the panacea for all ills! The ads were as corny as the claims but boy, did they sell the product – to an extent that any slick copywriter today would give his eyeteeth (whatever those are!) for!

I can think of a couple more ads like this – corny as they come but… but… there’s something about them that appeals to what is simple in us – I think. Vicco Vajradanti and Vicco Turmeric Vanishing cream (I’m singing the jingle as I write this – so please cover your ears ;)!)… or that ad for paneer which goes: “What did the matar say to the paneer?” and the blurb pops up – “Tu cheez badi hai mast mast”! Or consider this gem from a matrimonial agency: “Roses are red, violets are blue; you have an arranged marriage waiting for you!!”

You laugh at them, you hit your forehead and you go, “Aiyo!!” or “Toba, toba” or “Kadavale” depending on whether you eat aavakai or butter chicken or idli-sambar (yes, i love stereotypes!) but… they stick in your mind! Whether they deliver or not on the promises is another mater. I have a sneaking suspicion that somewhere we equate “slick” with “cheat” and therefore the simplicity of these ads makes us think “a guy this naive surely can’t cheat us, right??!”

Now back to our first panacea – Zinda Tilly… what prompted this post was a series of articles that grabbed my eyeballs about how the good ol’ lady of Amberpet (that’s where their karkhana or factory is located in Hyderabad) actually seems to be proving herself quite a redoubtable opponent against chikungunya and swine flu! What keeps the eyeballs riveted further is the news – and I didn’t know this earlier – that it can be applied on the skin, eaten or drunk – this medicine – for everything from the common cold to – hold your breath – cholera!

Is there any food that we can tout as a panacea like this? Most people in the South might pop up with rasam but then you can’t really apply it on the body (I’ve seen it being tried – at weddings where food is served on plantain leaves and you have to chase your rasam all over the leaf and sometimes all the way down to your armpit before you catch it!) Also rasam doesn’t claim to cure cholera, no matter what the fans say!

Further serious research was done last night as I was ruminating in bed and what came up was the humble chickpea flour/besan/senaga pindi/kadale maavu… edible, appliable, bathable (and if you happen to swallow some when you’re bathing, it won’t kill you!), scrubbable, good for exfoliation and hair removal and for washing hair with! Which means it’ll remove the hair on your arms but let you keep the hair on your head – wow, some cancer drugs can’t do that! That sounds quite like a Zinda Tilismath of foods to me.

Many things to do with besan starting with the favourite of all Indians – frying! Nothing like a pakoda or a bajji, greasily golden, deliciously fragrant and scrumptiously crunchy! But, I am not going to spoil you with fried foods (well, not quite)!

Presenting one of the most “comfortiest” (comfortable sounded wrong!) of comfort foods:

PAKODE KI KADHI

FOR KADHI

•  Thick, slightly sour yogurt/curd – 1.5 cups – whipped
• Besan/chickpea flour – 1/2 cup
• Turmeric – 1/4 tsp
• Red chili powder
• Jeera powder – 1/2 tsp
• Dhania powder – 1/2 tsp
• Kasooti methi – 1/2 tsp
• Salt
• Asafoetida
• Jaggery – 1 tsp

Whip everything together well with 2 cups water and set aside.

FOR PAKODAS

• Besan – 1 cup
• Sliced onions – 1 cup
• Ajwain (carom) seeds – 1/2 tsp
• Red chili powder – 1/2 tsp
• Green chili – minced – 1
• Asafoetida – 1 pinch
• Garam masala – 1/4 tsp
• Boiled potato (optional) – 1 small – mashed
• Chopped coriander – 1 tbsp
• Salt
• 1 tsp ghee
• Oil for deep frying

FOR TEMPERING

• Oil – 2 tbsp
• Mustard seeds – 1/2 tsp
• Jeera/cumin seeds – 1/2 tsp 
• Saunf (fennel seeds) – 1/4 tsp
• Red chillies – 2 – broken
• Curry leaves – 2 sprigs
• Chopped onions – 2 tbsp (optional)
• Asafoetida – 1 pinch

Mix everything for the PAKODAS together well (except oil)and rest it for half an hour. The juices from the onions will run and moisten the besan so you can shape it into small pakodas.

Put the yogurt mixture on a low flame and cook, stirring frequently so it doesn’t curdle. About ten minutes. If it becomes too thick, add some water.

Meanwhile, fry the pakodas in batches till golden brown and drain.

Add the pakodas to the yogurt mixture, cover and simmer for a further 7-8 minutes.

Switch off. Add the tempering ingredients to the hot oil and pour over the kadhi.

To be served with plain rice and a roast potato curry. 

And how do we know it won’t cure cholera anyway? Ever tried it?

My mother probably has the greenest thumb of anyone I know. With her enthusiasm for gardening and despite three very helpful and unhelpfully inept pairs of hands to help her, she managed to always grow stuff which appeared – in order of importance…

• in flower vases and jam jars – of which many abounded at home and which it was my special delight to fill and arrange through my childhood and adolescence
• for the puja – that my dad performed everyday. My parents were very clear about their roles in the household… as in their professional roles too, with both taking them extremely seriously. At home, she took care of the temporal while he took care of the spiritual and thus covered all bases! Neither slacked off and both would have been horrified by an exchange of duties! In point of fact, I do not really remember my mom doing anything much by way of any ritual – the namaskarams that she did were hurried as she rushed on to other stuff – more about this later…
• on the table… she could grow stuff but that did not mean she knew what to do with it always – with the result that we ate some very weird things made out of the freshest home-grown organic (there was no other kind those days!) vegetables!

One of those things which grew in the backyard in greater profusion than we children welcomed was this green, leafy thingummy called bacchali koora also hiding it’s gooey, sticky character under a variety of aliases – pui, Basella alba, climbing spinach, Malabar spinach, vaali – none of which made it taste any the less gooey or sticky!

We had to down large quantities of it – particularly at the end of the month when the budget had stretched thin and supplements from the backyard were essential! I still don’t buy this in the market! My mom’s exhortations that it was healthy didn’t make it any easier to swallow – but swallow we did!

My mother was extremely wise in some ways… when it came to getting us to do things we didn’t want to do – her usual strategy was not to coax or cajole or scold or any of those things against which all kids have defences! She just made that thing we did NOT want to do simply irresistable becase of her own enthusiasm! The fact that she owned a very dog-eared copy of Tom Sawyer explains it perhaps!

Once when my daughter Kanch was going through (still is!) the whole questioning and not accepting anything phase, she walks into the kitchen to find my mom lighting a lamp and is promptly shanghaied – “Kanch, come and light this lamp”. 

“But, ammamma, I don’t believe in God!”

“Who asked you to believe in God? I only asked you to light a lamp” – is the repartee, leaving the kid with no option!

Later, she tells her, “It’s good you’re questioning stuff. Everyone should – at your age – otherwise they become prigs as they grow up!!”

Back to our garden… one of those things which grow without much intervention (or should I say despite our intervention!) are tomatoes.

We plucked and used them both when they were raw and when they ripened. One delicious way to use them raw is to ‘chutney’ them…

GREEN TOMATO CHUTNEY

• Green tomatoes – 4 – medium sized – cut into chunks
• Capsicum – 1 – cut into chunks.
• Green chilies – 3 – break into pieces
• Garlic – 3 flakes (optional)
• Curry leaves – 3 sprigs
• Fresh coriander – 2 tbsp
• Mustard seeds – 1/2 tsp
• Chana dal – 1 tbsp
• Urad dal – 1 tbsp
• Asafoetida – 1 large pinch
• Tamarind paste – 1/2 tsp
• Jaggery – 1.5 tbsp
• Salt
• Sesame oil – 1 tbsp

Heat oil and add the mustard seeds. When they splutter, add the chana dal and urad dal and fry on a low flame till golden. Add the asafoetida and all the other ingredients (except tamarind and jaggery) and fry till the tomatoes are tender – about 6-7 minutes. Add tamarind paste and jaggery. Let cool and grind to a knobbly chutney consistency.

Superb with idlis and dosas and as a dip…

And even if you can’t grow stuff and are a “serial plant killer” like a friend of mine – don’t worry – you can always buy green tomatoes!

Zafrani… the word itself conjures up a world of exotica – zardosis, rich laces and Mughal emperors, tiger hunts and bejewelled turbans – like most words beginning with the letter “Z” do for me – well, except maybe for zebras and ziplocks and zits! Just think – zabaglione, Zanzibar, zany, ziggurats – Z is truly a zamindar of a letter!

Harvested from the crocus plant, the chemical that is responsible for the saffron’s pigment is called, of all things – CROCIN! Now who on earth would believe that that horribly bitter tasting fever medicine (and yes, I am NOT good with swallowing pills – how else would I know?!) would have something in common with the most delicate, flavoursome veritable Zikander of spices?! (ok, ok, I’m deliberately taking some liberties here with the spelling of Sikander!)

Tasting just as good in savouries as it does in desserts, the flavour is so delicate that even when you pick up a small pinch (chitikedu) to drop into your dish with your thumb and forefinger, the aroma that lingers in your fingers is enough to send you into orbit! Hmmm… I wonder… if there is any relation to the poppy… Wizard of Oz… opium… and all that?

Even as children, we were very aware that saffron was a very special spice used only on very special occasions, ceremoniously taken out of the little locked carved wooden box inside a locked steel almirah, with a solemnity befitting its royal status – only on rare occasions. I don’t think my mom guarded her jewellery so zealously (sigh, another z-word!)

On a trip to Kashmir with my school when I was about ten years old, I spent quite half my pocket money of a solid hundred bucks on a tiny dabba of saffron for my mom (obviously hoping she’d make somethin’ yummy of it!)

Well, she was thrilled and I did get something yummy out of it – sweet saffron rice – one of the yummiest desserts I’ve ever had!

SWEET SAFFRON RICE/KESARI BHATH

• Basmati rice – 1 cup (worth getting the best quality) – wash and soak for 30 minutes. Drain
• Milk – 1/2 cup
• Saffron  – 1 pinch – about 8-10 strands (the dark Kashmiri variety or the Spanish Mancha variety preferable)
• Cinnamon – 1″
• Cardamom – 1
• Cloves – 2
• Water – 1.25 cups
• Sugar – 6 – 8 tsp (this is NOT an overly sweet dessert so eat without guilt!)
• Ghee – 3 tbsp
• Cashewnuts and raisins -1 tbsp each
• Kewra essence – 2 drops (optional)
• Salt – 1 pinch
• Cream – 3-4 tbsp – to serve  (optional)

 Soak the saffron in warm milk.

Heat the ghee in a pan and fry the cashewnuts and raisins till the nuts turn golden yellow (not brown) and the raisins puff up. Remove them from the ghee using a slotted spoon and set aside.

Add the cloves, cardamom and cinnamon to the ghee and fry for a minute.

Add the rice and fry for 4-5 minutes till golden yellow. Add the water and cook, covered for 5 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Add the saffron milk and sugar and cook till the milk is dried up and the rice is cooked. You may need to add two more tbsp of either water or milk. Add the kewra (if using), raisins and cashewnuts and mix well.

Serve warm with cream if you don’t mind the calories!

And you are now qualified to do the zumba in Zimbabwe’s ziggurat!

Zzzz…

Recently at the Chennai Lit Fest, I attended a discussion by three foodies and food writers – all professional chefs. The theme of the discussion was food memories. The audience appeared to be expecting memories of cooked food or home food but other than Aditya Bal who grew up in Kashmir and for him too to an extent, these memories seemed to consist primarily of food you bought – like 5-star chocolates (top rated), Kiss Me candies, kidney shaped confectionery (acid drops), Parry toffees in green and gold wrappers, long wads of “stickjaws” – extremely sticky peanut brittle (chikki) which shut you up more effectively than any mom ever could, pink “Phantom” cigarette shaped candies – which made you feel far cooler than the Marlboro man ever did as you nonchalently pretended to puff away!

Perhaps the fact that these foods had to be bought, which means actual money had to be obtained (a very rare commodity in our growing up years, i assure you!) and therefore they represented everybody’s Shangri-La is the reason those memories are treasured! How could an everyday sambar, no matter how delicious, hope to compete with a packet of Chiclets or the tangy, to-die-for fatafats?!

Got to thinking about home cooked foods which have the same effect and still my mind turns to the outdoors – the temple prasadams of which we sampled plenty. Much running around and playing every evening in the maidans meant that hunger pangs struck very early – too early for dinner to be ready. With no money or cupboards stacked with Maggi or Lay’s, necessity invented – piety!

Every evening, the Hanuman temple near our house saw an outburst of prayers from little ones – who came hoping the evening’s prasadam (food offering) to the deity would be pieces of coconut occasionally laced with pieces of jaggery. Being there, of course, we had to salve our consciences by praying and applying the fiery orange kumkum paste that is standard in Hanuman temples – the equation was simple – you went to the temple, got fed, of course you had to offer up prayers in thanks – no one could say we didn’t keep our part opf the bargain scrupulously!

Finally coming back to home moorings, one of the dishes that I have been trying to replicate for years – was a roasted wheat powder with sugar – which my mom used to make occasionally and which I absolutely loved. Couldn’t remember and didn’t know how to make till I got offered that as a prasadam at a temple one day… and there I was… all of seven years old again – inhaling the smell of roasting wheat against the background of my mom’s crisply starched cotton sari! 

GODHUMA PRASADAM/WHEAT FLOUR PRASADAM

• Whole wheat flour – 1/2 cup
• Grated jaggery or sugar or brown sugar – 2 tbsp – you can add more if you like it sweeter
• Ghee – 1 tsp
• Cardamom powder – 1 large pinch – optional
• Cashewnuts/almonds/raisins  – 2 tbsp – optional

Heat the ghee in a large, flat saucepan and add the nuts and raisins if using. Stir fry on a low flame till golden. Add the wheat flour and continue to stir on a low flame till golden brown and smelling wonderful! If you are NOT using nuts and raisins, add the wheat flour straightaway to the ghee and roast. 

Take off the fire, add the cardamom powder (if using, the aroma of roasted wheat flour is lovely and you do not really need another aromatic) and sugar and mix well.

Serve hot – super snack for kids just come home from school. Though once in a while, it may not be a bad idea to NOT feed them – they might begin to develop a sense of piety – hard on the heels of hunger!

 (Pic courtesy: Internet)