Of gold bangles, ‘split milk’ and dogs that won’t fit into fridges!

The year is about 1972 or ’73. My mom comes home from work, very excited. She’s just got a bonus (or maybe arrears or some such thing – basically it was a lump sum!) and wants to buy me a pair of gold bangles. Well, at nine or ten, or at any age in my life, gold bangles or any such things have never excited me! So a family conference is called (come to think of it, quite progressive for parents of that generation!) to decide between the aforesaid (I’ve always wanted to use that word!) gold bangles or a refrigerator. The motion is carried heavily in favour of the frig – by four votes to one, the sole dissenting voice being my mother’s, who thinks that maybe girls ought to be interested in gold bangles! 

And so, with great excitement, a frig arrived – a tiny – very tiny Electrolux, which was making a test foray in the Indian markets (they exited hurriedly!!). The frig arrived just in time for the beginning of the summer holidays for us kids so the next two months were spent in getting over the novelty of shoving our faces in to get cooled off every other minute and the “oooh, feel my face, see how cold it is!” kind of excitement. Refrigerators were very much NOT a part of Indian homes back then and a few were just beginning to make their way in.

Being kids very interested in “cooking” back then, we made many and many glorious messes every day! The frig was an added incentive. Both parents being away the whole day meant there was no one to tell us not to use this or that or to leave that thing alone or else... imagination having no limits, we froze everything we could lay our hands on – to see what would happen! We did try to put Tommy, our pet mongrel, inside because he was pushing his nose in and we thought that we’d help him out by “cooling” him off for a few minutes – luckily for Tommy, bits of him kept popping out (like I said, it was a tiny frig!) and he kept wriggling so we had to let him go!

The notion of making ice-cream was of course, acted upon without any delay. The only ‘cream’ we were familiar with was the skin off hot milk (much reviled!) so milk was our substitute. Banana and mango “icecreams” were made by mashing up with the buttermilk churner (no mixers in the market yet!), adding milk and sugar and frozen in the ice tray. No workman is going to revile what he’s made and so we ate all of these with great gusto… till one day…

…our choice fell on “lemon” icecream. Hot milk, sugar and plenty of lime juice (hey, we had a lemon tree!!) were mixed together and poured into the trays. The afternoon heat was welcomed – we’d have “cool” lemon icecream to look forward to. The frig was opened and the trays taken out with great ceremony. We shook out the cubes of… a strange, lime green frozen watery ‘thingy’ with white strands frozen inside it! Where had our lemon ice cream gone? Never having eaten ‘paneer’ earlier, the idea that milk curdles with lemon did NOT occur to us! 

Never fazed by the unexpected ( a quality that the parents passed down to us in full measure!), we ate the ‘lemon icecream’. It was interesting! It was only years later that I figured what had actually happened!

And many more years were to pass before I figured out lemon ice cream!

LEMON ICECREAM (EGGLESS)

  • 2 medium lemons, juiced and zested
  • 200g white sugar
  • 250ml milk
  • 250ml double cream, chilled

Combine the lemon zest and sugar in the container of a food processor till the zest is very fine.

In a bowl, stir together the zest mixture and milk until sugar has dissolved, then stir in the lemon juice. 

In a separate bowl, whip the double cream until stiff. Don’t overwork it as it will split. Gently fold the whipped cream into the lemon mixture until blended.

Pour the mixture into a loaf tin, and cover with cling film. Freeze for 3 hours, or until firm.

 (Pic courtesy: Internet)

Of kadalai pod-ing and Anu aunty!

” If you don’t study harder, all you will be doing will be ‘kadalai pod-ing’ (literally “putting chickpeas”, meaning doing trivial stuff – this Tamil is a graphically descriptive lingo!) while all your friends are studying at IIT/NIT/MIT blah, blah – says the kadalai-pod-ing Anu aunty (not me!!) in this hilariously named  book How I Braved Anu Aunty And Founded A Million Dollar Company.

I couldn’t believe my eyes – and so – just for the sake of the title, I bought this at an airport bookstall a couple of years ago. The book was obviously written by someone in a hurry to finish it – rather like a Hindi assignment – but made a very telling point – about middle class India’s preoccupation with engineering degrees for their sons and daughters and the ramifications if the kid dared rebel! Having actively encouraged my kids to seek and follow their own very different stars, I am happily NOT the Anu aunty after whom the book is named but I did face a weird experience – at the receiving end of this notion – at a high school where I was invited to do a session on self awareness.

Before I started my session, I had a meeting with the Principal of the school. She was on the telephone as I walked in so I had time to look around at the plaques and shields hanging on the wall. She gets off the phone and we make small talk for minute or two. She’s obviously very proud of all the accolades her students have earned and tells me about some of them. 

“How come there are no Humanities plaques or shields at all? ” I ask innocently 😉

Pat comes the answer: “You see, most parents do not want it for their children so we do not offer these subjects at all (this in one of the leading schools in Chennai with a strength of over 3000 students!!). Even if there a few kids wanting these subjects, we actively discourage it. You see, my dear, how many journalists does the world need??”

I am so stumped that most unusually for me, I’m at a loss for words! Journalism is the only career that this lady (a very nice, highly educated person herelf!) who is the arbiter of so many young lives can think of for an Arts student. Even the parlance for this is a negative – it is not referred to as the Arts stream but as the “Non-Science, Non-Commerce” stream! Grrrr!

And anyway, what’s so wrong with kadalai-pod-ing? I have a list of benefits – keeps you healthy (and keeps people away if you eat too many!), teaches you patience – one kadalai, two kadalai… is a surefire cure for ADHD (Attention deficit hyperactivity disorder), keeps you from other more harmful stuff – I’m sure even Anu aunty (the one is the book, i mean!) would rather have you put kadalai rather than snort c…..e??

Shall we snort… errr… I mean podu kadalai?

EVERYDAY BLACK CHANA CURRY

  • 1 cup – black (or brown) chana (chickpeas) – soaked overnight and pressure cooked till tender.
  • 1 medium onion – chopped
  • 1/2 ” ginger – grated
  • 1 green chili – minced
  • Tomatoes – 2 – chopped
  • Tomato puree – 1 tbsp
  • Bay leaf – 1
  • Jeera (cumin) – 1/2 tsp
  • Coriander powder – 1 tsp
  • Red chili powder – 1/2 tsp
  • Turmeric pwd – 1/4 tsp
  • Garam masala – 1/2 tsp
  • Kasooti methi – 1 tsp
  • Oil – 1 tsp
  • Salt
  • Sugar – 1/2 tsp
  • Coriander – chopped – 1 tbsp

Heat the oil and caramelise the sugar in it. Add the jeera, bay leaf and green chili.

Add onion and fry till golden brown. Keep adding a few drops of water if the onions stick to the bottom (adi pudi!).

Add ginger, tomatoes, all the powdered spices and cook for 3-4 minutes on a low flame till the tomatoes turn mushy.

Add the cooked chana and salt. Cover and stew for 10 minutes till the flavours are absorbed.

You can also add a chopped potato at this stage if you wish to bulk it up or add another texture.

Add kasooti methi and switch off.

Add coriander before serving – with rice, puris, rotis, bread, boiled potatoes – this dish is the “O” Positive of foods – geos with anything and nothing!

Ask Anu Aunty!

Of epic failures in the kitchen and why I’m a good guest!

Something funny has been happening for the past few months since I started this blog – every time I’m invited to someone’s home for a meal, they start apologizing as soon as they start laying the table: “Sorry, this may not be as good as yours”, “sorry but… you know, you’re a food blogger and all that… ” and so on… with two results…

a) I feel guilty! Then I have to apologise for my blog and hem and haw nervously ‘ heh, heh, not really’ while i hop around from foot to foot, giving them the impression that either I’m demented or that I need to use the loo urgently!

b) I’m scared people will stop calling me over and I have to eat ONLY what I cook – then where will I get my stories from?

Quite an existential dilemma, don’t you think?

So, for all you who are following this and feeling nervous to invite me home, let me give you the tale of one of my (there have been many!) most spectacular failures in the kitchen!

Having decided to marry a Tambram, off I went to the shops – trousseau, you think? Naah, THAT was done very quickly – barely a day! The shopping expedition was for something that I’d been assured was the Bible of Tambram cooking – Meenakshi.V.Ammal’s Samaithu Paar (literally ” Cook and See”) causing me to wonder irreverentially (bet I’d have been accused of being a Leftist, Rightist or Centrist – ALL wrong things these days! ) whether we were supposed to only cook and see but NOT eat!

This book has been touted as THE one book for all new brides and so on; plus I was very young so I had very high hopes indeed. Since I didn’t know too much cooking, I had no way of judging how good the recipes were but spent many edifying hours over – sample this: “Winnow out the paddy removing the chaff completely. Then roast a little in an earthen pan to a red colour. Pound with a wooden (or iron) pestle to remove the husk. Winnow again. Grind the roasted rice in a machine or hand mill and keep, so it can be used, as and when required”! or “Remove the fire wood from the oven” or “Turn the paddy using a small-sized bundle of coconut splinters” – phew! as opposed to today’s instructions “Order online one kg of aval/poha/atukulu/beaten rice” – that’s what the latter bit is about, by the way! 

Learnt many interesting and yummy things from Meenakshi Ammal maami but one recipe that i tried out was such a disaster – i followed instructions to the “T” – i promise – was one for something called “moar sambar” or “buttermilk sambar”. The instructions are as for regular sambar except that the souring agent is buttermilk rather than tamarind – the result was the worst dish I’ve ever made in my life and I had to throw the whole thing down the drain!

Lesson: Buttermilk and dal make very strange bedfellows!

Now having put you off buttermilk and yogurt cooking, let me give you one that will convert you back again – an incredibly simple, low fat but rich tasting curry with yogurt.

DAHIWAALE ALOO ( POTATOES IN YOGURT GRAVY)

  • Potatoes – 500 gm – peeled and cut into large chunks or baby potatoes – boiled and peeled
  • Yogurt – 250 gm – whipped well – at room temperature. 
  • Green cardamom – 3 – pounded – with skin
  • Black cardamom – 1 – pounded with skin
  • Somph – fennel seeds – 1/4 tsp
  • Red chili powder – 1 tsp
  • Turmeric  – 1/2 tsp
  • Cinnamon – 1 ” stick – whole
  • Bay leaf – 1
  • Dried ginger powder – 1/2 tsp
  • Ghee – 1 tbsp
  • Cumin seeds – 1/2 tsp
  • Sugar – 1/2 tsp
  • Kasooti methi -1 tsp
  • Salt

Heat the ghee in a pan and add the sugar and let it caramelize a bit. Add the jeera (cumin) and fennel seeds.

Add the bay leaf, cinnamon, cardamom, red chili and turmeric.

Add the potatoes. If using large potato chunks, pour a couple of tbsp of water, cover and cook till almost done.

If using boiled and peeled baby taters, add them and stir. Roast without covering for a few minutes.

Take off the fire, add salt, ginger powder, kasooti methi and gently pour in the yogurt, stirring constantly. If the yogurt is poured in while the cury is too hot, it will curdle. Return to the fire and continue to cook till potatoes are tender but not falling apart. Goes superbly with puris.

And do feel free to call me over – I’m a good guest 😉

“Eat all you can” orange eating contest and save the peel for the thokku!

After a long time, I have a guest post again today – from my aunt Malathi Mohan. She reminded me of an old family favourite – the orange peel thokku but the oranges themselves reminded me of another story!
 
My uncle Bala kakka’s two sons – Ashwin and Jayant – were prolific consumers of fruit when little kids. And of all the fruits they loved, oranges probably ranked at the top of the list! Oranges in Hyderabad were pretty cheap those days with a basket of several dozen going for as little as a few rupees! Despite that, these two scrawny kids were quite capable of breaking the family budget with their consumption…
 
I remember once visiting them when they were about six and four years old. My uncle had just come home from work tired and asked the kids to fetch him a couple of oranges from the basket of four dozen or so he’d bought that morning. Being too small to have learnt any subterfuge, straight comes the answer, “But those got over looong ago Daddy!”
 
“What do you mean ‘loong ago’, they were bought only this morning!”
 
“Loong ago in the afternooon” pipes in the littler fella, sticking his finger through the last one and holding it up proudly, ” I’m Vishnu and this is my Chakra”!! – they’ve been hard at it from the morning, popping them in one after the other! But who can blame them – those were the sweet-as-sugarcane-juice Kamala oranges or Nagpur oranges – and no one can eat just one, right? Least of all a pair of very small kids!
 
Here’s the thokku from my aunt – thank you, Pinni!
 
ORANGE PEEL THOKKU
A hot, sweet, sour favourite of many members of my family – slightly bitter too due to the bitterness of the peel. You can compare it to our Ugadi Pachadi which combines all tastes and we are told it resembles life which is a mixture of all good and bad experiences that we will have to face! It can be compared to the bitter marmalade of the British but not to the sickly sweet Kissan marmalade.
 
This thokku looks attractive with it’s beautiful orange colour and goes well with rice, chapathi, idli, dosa, dibba rotti and bread. To me, it’s a comfort food as my mother made it for me and also because we could conserve the peel after eating the fruit.
 
The best oranges to use are the loose – skinned ones. They were called  â€˜Kamala oranges’. I wonder who Kamala was?? Better still, universally known as Nagpur oranges. Choose the bright orange skinned fruit for best results.
 
Let’s go ahead with the thokku:
  • Orange peel of 5 fruit ( Wash the fruit before peeling. Remove the fruit and any strings attached), cut roughly into small pieces.
  • Red chilli  8-10 numbers
  • Dhania seeds  1 tbsp
  • Hing powder   ½ tsp
  • Blackgram dhal  2 tbsp
  • Mustard seeds  1 tsp
  • Turmeric pwd  Â½ tsp
  • Tamarind  1 big lime size lump
  • Jaggery grated, 3tbsp
  • Salt 1 ½ tsp
  • Gingelly (til or sesame seed 0il  6tbsp
Heat half the oil in a frying pan and fry all the dry ingredients upto turmeric. Remove from fire , cool and grind coarsely
Add the other half of the oil and fry the orange peel lightly along with the tamarind, jaggery and salt. Cool and grind with the ground masala. Taste for salt.
 
Cool, bottle and store in refrigerator for longer shelf life.
 
I remember Amma warning us not to throw away the peel  and not to spit the seeds into the peel. Even today, I feel guilty to throw the lovely peels. But how much thokku can you make during the orange season?? Funnily, the peel itself is called thokku or tholu in Telugu!!

A dish to soothe all your samasyaas (problems)!

Stage: Hindi exam

Scene: Board exam day for the 10th std ICSC exams

Dramatis personae: Many sad looking Madras kids facing a HINDI exam. 

Heroine: Gayatri

Off stage personae : Tough board examiners in Delhi who cannot understand the travails of a Madras kid trying to learn Hindi!

Act 1, Scene 1 : Q1: (translated from the Hindi) : Write a letter to your corporator complaining about the mosquito menace (samasya)  in your locality and request him or her to take action.

Gayatri does know a few words of Hindi – unfortunately only two of those words – samasya meaning problem and patra meaning letter are the only two she recognises on this particular question! She figures out that she has to write a letter to someone regarding some problem! 

A1: ” Dear so and so (copies out the word for corporator on the paper),

Hamari colony mein maccharon ki samasya hai (again the question paper comes to her rescue!) Bahut saare maccharaan hai (there are lots of mosquitoes). She sits and bites her nails for a while – who else could possibly have a problem?? Aaah, inspiration!

Logon ko samasya hain (people have a problem); bacchon ko samasya hai (children have a problem);  boodhon ko samasya hai (old people have a problem)”

More biting of nails takes place as she tries to figure who else she might have missed out –  “kutton ko samasya hai (dogs have a problem!); jaanvaron ko samsya hai (animals have a problem!)” and finally, just to cover all bases, in case the examiner is a little dim, you see – “maccharon ko samasya hai (mosquitoes have a problem? with other mosquitoes??!!). From what, too much competition from other mosqitoes??!

I had thoughtfully given these kids a pro-tip – that when they write the exam and there is a letter writing question, when you write your address, put “CHENNAI” in bold letters and underline so that the examiner will know this poor sod is a non-native Hindi speaker! 

Maybe the pro tip worked though I am more inclined to think it was the hilarity she must have caused up in Delhi that did the trick and she passed the Hindi exam with flying colours!

Obviously an effort like that needs an extra special “comfort” dinner to make up for how much she suffered the mosquitoes (or was it the other way around?)

Here’s an ultimate comfort Italian meal that will soothe almost all your samasyaas (including if you were the Hindi examiner correcting this paper!)

SPAGHETTI WITH PESTO AND STIR FRY VEGETABLES WITH DILL

  • Spaghetti – 1 packet

FOR PESTO

  • Basil – 2 cups
  • Pine nuts or walnuts – 1/2 cup
  • Olive oil – 1/4 cup
  • Green chili – 1 or 2 (it’s amazing in pesto!)
  • Parmesan or cheddar – 1/2 cup – grated
  • Garlic – 6 flakes
  • Salt

Grind the nuts, salt, chili and garlic in the mixer. Add the basil and a couple of tbsp of water and grind to a rough puree. Scrape out and add the olive oil and cheese and mix well with a spoon. Set aside.

Cook the spaghetti according to the instructions on the packet.

While the spaghetti is boiling, prepare the vegetables.

  • Capsicums – 1 red, 1 yellow and 1 green. – cut into 1 cm cubes.
  • Cauliflower – cut into florets.
  • Broccoli – ditto
  • Cherry tomatoes – 200 gms – halved lengthwise.
  • Shallots (spring onions) – chopped – 5
  • Green chili – minced – 2
  • Spinach – 1 cup
  • Olive oil – 1 tsp
  • Butter – 1 tsp
  • Salt
  • Pepper – 1/2 tsp
  • Dill – 1 tsp

Blanch the cauliflower in 1 cup of boiling water for 4 minutes. Remove. In the same water, drop in the broccoli and remove after 3 minutes. Ditto for capsicums for 2 minutes. Do not discard the water – there will be a scant quarter cup left.

Heat the oil in a large saucepan. Add the minced chilies, spring onions, spinach and tomatoes and stir fry on high heat for 3 minutes. Add the rest of the blanched vegetables, salt, pepper and butter and continue to stir on a high flame for 2 more minutes. Add the dill, stir and switch off.

The spaghetti should be done by now. Drain and add three tbsp of pesto and the water saved from the vegetables and stir till the spaghetti is coated.

Serve with vegetables all around.

All your samasyaas will disappear – i promise!