Unintentional cake ‘bombs’ and “selling skills”!

 
“Do come home. I’ve just got a new oven and have baked a cake for tea”, I invite my friend over with her little daughter – my daughter’s bestie – Vinaya. Had just gotten an extra-large oven – reasoning that if I was going to bake birthday cakes too, I might as well fit them in there – and that oven, over the next dozen or so years, churned out an enormous number of cakes and muffins, breads and burger buns, cookies and crumbles, potatoes and pies and in short, everything that could be baked!
 
I’m runnning ahead of the story, however…having just become the proud possessor of THE OVEN and a few cake pans along with it, i chose the cutest – a heart-shaped pan which gave promise of baking with love! The flour and sugar and eggs and butter were measured out under the eagerly watching eyes of two small (one very small) children. The butter and sugar were creamed to the right fluffiness, everything else folded in, vanilla added with due reverence and then the oven doors closed as the doorbell rang to let in my friend and her daughter. Thirty minutes later, as per the book, the perfect, golden brown cake was reverentially taken out, cooled in defiance of the eager faces (three of them now) waiting and ta-da- cut with ceremony to…..eyes popping out like saucers as a lava of uncooked batter oozed out!
 
Vinaya actually thought that it was what was supposed to happen and was suitably impressed! Arch looked very proud – after all, it’s not everyone’s mom who can make a flow-y cake, right?!
 
My husband says that it was my MBA degree which helped sell the idea of molten lava cake before it was invented and that if he had had anything like a raw cake disaster, he’d never have heard the end of it!!! Hmmm…i can’t help it if engineers can’t sell stuff, can I??
 
Many “correct” cakes came out of it after I’d learnt to figure out the oven but that first “flow-er” cake will never be forgotten!
 
Here’s one of my favourite cakes- chocolate and orange – a match truly made in heaven!
 
CHOCOLATE ORANGE CAKE
 
50 gm plain chocolate
170 gm butter
110 gm demerara sugar
2 eggs
200 gm flour sifted with 1.5 tsp baking powder
30 gm almond meal
100 ml cream
50 ml yogurt
Finely grated rind and juice of one orange
50 gm sugar
 
For icing:
 
100 gm chocolate melted with 30 ml cream and poured over the top
Candied orange peel or segments
Melt the chocolate in a bowl over hot water and allow it to cool. Cream butter and sugar together till light and fluffy. Add egg yolks one at a time, beating in well. Sift in flour. Add the almond meal. Mix in the cream and whipped egg whites. . Fold in the melted chocolate. Add the yogurt and mix gently. Add the grated zest of orange and mix. Immediately pour into a tin and bake in a preheated oven at 180 C for about an hour till a skewer inserted in the centre comes out clean. Mix the sugar with the orange juice and spoon over the cake. Leave in the oven to cool.
 
Pour the icing over the top and decorate with candied orange peel or orange segments. 
 

She’s got eggs on her miiiiiind!….

 

My guest blogger for today – my younger daughter Kanchana!

– – – 

So in a recent blog post, my mother mentioned that BOTH her kids love eggs as much as she does. Uhh, not cool Amma.

Firstly, as Arch so emphatically stated in her ‘guest blog post’, my mother didn’t let either of us develop food preferences when we were growing up. Secondly, when either of us did – accidentally – manage to develop a preference either way, it apparently got ignored completely!

One such preference that I secretly, sneakily, stealthily manage to develop was my dislike for eggs. (Note to Amma: next time you blog about either Arch or me, please verify your data about what foods we like).

I’ve never been a big fan of eggs. Eggs in whichever form – whether scrambled, omeletted, boiled, buried in cheese, whatever. Having been a vegetarian athlete, I was never allowed to go without eggs, as protein sources are hard to come by. While throughout my years at school I found a way to twist, break, find a loophole in pretty much every role enforced by our teachers, I was the complete opposite when it came to training. So when my coach told me to eat X number of eggs a day, everyday, I shut up and did it.

Naturally, I kept trying out different ways to disguise the eggs I had to eat. One recipe that I recently stumbled upon is Egg Akoori. I first tasted this rather fantastic Parsi dish at Bombay’s famous Leopold’s Café and tried to recreate it at home. 

Here’s what you’ll need: (recipe makes 4 eggs)

AKOORI

1 pod garlic

1 green chili

½ large onion sliced

1 tomato chopped up

1 large pinch of : turmeric, jeera, dhaniya, chaat masala, chili powder

Heat butter in a pan. Add in ingredients in the order above. Cook them up, then add in the eggs and scramble up.

Garnish with coriander. I like eating this with hot rice.

Basically, scrambled eggs-Indian style!

(Picture courtesy: Internet) 

 

Village of cannibals and their dosa huts!

“But, pleeeez, can I have a headman’s hut?” asks my daughter. No, it’s not a resort and we are not looking at cute cottages…

What we are looking at is a plateful of small, hut shaped dosas! Kanch has just waited for me to make a whole village of little dosas shaped like huts before weaving a story around them about a headman and his wife and his honchos and his kids before she begins to nibble at the huts. My exhortations to please eat before the dosas are stone cold make no dent in her consciousness – the story of the headman, his family’s little huts, their cannibalistic tendencies, the firepot in the centre (a mound of chutney that she builds up into a volcano) is just too fascinating! And just as the hapless explorer (her Akka – big sister) is about to be put into the pot on the fire, along comes our heroine (K, of course!!) – rushing out of the littlest hut where she’s been hiding – to vanquish the would-be assassins!

And so on to a LARGE hut shaped dosa again – the headman’s hut before she begins to eat!

Alphabet dosas spelling out their whole names were also much loved but the conical, “hut-shaped” dosas were and still are favourites! A teacher friend of mine told me about a child in her class who, when given an assignment to draw his house, drew a tall, rectangular structure with little squares of windows in them! She said this was the first time that she’d seen anyone drawing anything other than a “hut” – the wigwam shaped structure that we all grew up drawing as the simplest shape of a house! So my friend draws the hut and asks the kid whether he recognises it. He stares at it for a while before guessing, “upside-down funnel?” He’d never in his life – and this in India – seen a house like a cone! Am sure that Kanch would have asnwered that it was a dosa!

So here’s to the hut dosa!

DOSA:

  • Urad dal – 1 cup
  • Parboiled rice – 2.5 cups
  • Raw rice – 1/2 cup
  • Methi – fenugreek – seeds – 1 tsp
  • Salt
  • Sesame oil – 1/2 teaspoon for each dosa
  • Ghee – a couple of teaspoons

Soak the raw rice and parboiled rice together with the methi seeds. Soak the urad dal separately. Both overnight or for four hours.Drain and grind separately into a smooth but very slightly gritty batter adding water to make it a thick pouring consistency. Mix both batters together in a large vessel and let ferment for at least 6 hours in a warm place. Overnight is good. The batter will almost double. Whip well adding the salt. Or just buy the batter!

Now comes the part that calls for the serious skills! Heat a nonstick pan (preferable). Pour 2-3 drops of oil on top and sprinkle a few drops of water on top – the dosa master (my husband) throws the water with a flourish so it can splatter the wall behind – but it does sizzle amazingly! On high heat, pour one ladleful of batter in the centre of the pan and spread it with the bottom of the ladle into a thin pancake. Immediately lower the flame and pour a few drops of oil around the edge of the dosa and a couple of drops of ghee in the centre. Cook uncovered for about a minute till it turns golden brown on the underside – peek to see. Flip over and turn up the flame. The dosa cooks in a few seconds on the second side. Flip off the pan and serve with chutney/ chutney podi/ sambar/ cannibal’s blood!!

If you want a “hut” dosa, as soon as you pour the batter and spread it, cut a radius in the batter with the edge of your ladle. Cook as normal. Don’t flip over. Pick up the cut edge and roll on the pan into a cone. Let the cone sit open edge down for 3 or 4 seconds to get  completely done. Carefully slide on to a plate. Build your village!

Happy hunting!

 

Of boiled school cabbages, kings and boot polish!

 
For all you quizzers out there – Billy Bunter and Jennings – what do they have in common?
 
Other than the obvious British schoolboy storybook characters?
 
A: Both famous for dissing school dinners at which boiled cabbage featured prominently!
 
Strangely, the girls’ school stories – Mallory Towers and St.Clare’s – don’t mention this at all – either they didn’t cook it at girls’ schools or Enid Blyton glossed over something so sulphurous in favour of potted meat sandwiches – the latter seems more likely!!  
 
The time has come…
To talk of many things:
Of shoes–and ships–and sealing wax–
Of cabbages–and kings–
And why the sea is boiling hot–
And whether pigs have wings.
 
Thus spake the Walrus through Lewis Carroll. And thus echoes this blog too… Strangely, I’ve never encountered dislike for cabbages in India – I think maybe we just cook it better?? 😉
 
Whether it is the South Indian “cabbage koora/palya/poriyal” “aloo patta gobi”, the Bengali “bandh gobi tarkari” or the humble cabbage elevated into a kofta, I haven’t heard many complaints either from children or adults about eating it. N.B: My older daughter has just informed me that she is going to develop ‘food preferences’ from now on and cabbage is ‘off the list’!!
 
Remember ye olde Greek dude called Diogenes? The guy who spent his life searching for an honest man? (He should have searched amongst Indian politicians -he’d have given it up sooner and devoted his life to something more fruitful – like growing cabbages or something! Well, anyway, our chappie believed in the goodness of cabbages and ate them everyday (bit much, don’t you agree?) for his health. The story goes that D ran into a young man of the Hedonist school (pleasure-seeking fellas much given to polishing the shoes of the rich with their ahem… salivary emissions) and told him (as though he couldn’t leave the poor fellow alone – he might actually have had a thing for Cherry Blossom shoe polish!) that if he lived on cabbages, he wouldn’t have to flatter the rich and powerful. Now the young man was anything but a cabbagehead; pat came the reply “If  YOU, Mr. D, flattered the powerful, YOU wouldn’t be obliged to live on cabbage either!!”
 
Whatever the rival merits of cabbage and shoe polish, it must be noted that ole’ Diogenes lived to the ripe age of ninety while our hedonist pal departed to seek a better brand boot polish in the Hades at forty!
 
So therefore, daughter dear, heed the lesson taught – the worm that eats cabbage is safe, the non-cabbage worm gets caught!
 
And now for our daily cabbage koora:
 
CABBAGE KOORA/PORIYAL/PALYA
 
Cabbage – shredded finely – 1/2 kg
Onion – chopped – 1 small
Curry leaves – 2 sprigs
Mustard seeds – 1/2 tsp
Sesame oil – 2 tsp
Urad dal – 1/2 tsp
Asafoetida – 1 large pinch
Coriander – 2 tbsp
Grated fresh coconut – 1/2 cup
Green chilies – 2-3
Salt
 
Pulse the coconut and green chilies together in the mixer till the chili is just minced. Set aside. Heat the oil in a saucepan. Add mustard seeds. When they begin to pop, add the urad dal and asafoetida. Add the curry leaves and the onions and saute till slightly discoloured. Add the cabbage, sprinkle a couple of tbsp of water over the top. Cover and cook on a low heat for 6-7 minutes till almost done. Add the salt, mix well and continue to cook on a low heat for a couple of minutes more. The cabbage must still have a bit of resistance when you bite it. Switch off, sprinkle the coconut -chili mixture ad coriander on top and mix well. Rest for a few minutes before serving  with rice / rotis or who am i to judge? – shoe polish!
 

“Vijay Vargals” and unfair exchanges!

“Guess what happened at school today?” asks Arch bursting with news as she comes back home.

“What?”

“Deepshika actually wanted one of my burgers at lunch!” – comes back a shocked, horrified response.

“So, did you give her one?” I ask – innocently. After all, I had packed four large and four small burgers – to be shared out with her friends at lunchtime!

“How, Amma? They were BURGERS!” as though I had asked her to gift away the family heirlooms! Come to think of it, Arch would probably have gifted these away quite happily – if it came to a choice between the heirlooms and a burger!

“Well, i packed enough for you to share around, didn’t I?”

“But then, I’d have gone hungry!” she protests..

“Well, if you were still hungry, you could have asked her to share some of her lunch with you” – i proffer.

“”But, but….”, she says, spluttering with indignation at a mother who doesn’t GET it, – “she brought thayir saadam”!!! (Thayir saadam being curd rice – something which at age ten, they thought very infra dig!) And in comparison with a burger, well, it didn’t begin to figure! Only a mother could have thought it was a fair exchange – said her expression!

Some of the best burgers I’ve eaten were at a tiny hole-in-the-wall shop off Abid Road in Hyderabad when I was at college. There was a Punjabi guy with a blackboard sign outside his shop which said “Vijay Vargal” along with the menu. Thinking he’d named the shop after himself, I addressed him as VIjay-ji (he was well over fifty by the looks of him) and he looked quite blank. I pointed to the sign and asked him “Isn’t that your name?” “Duh… Why would i name myself after a dish?” he responds. My turn to look blank… then i got it… Vijay Vargal was the Indianised Vegetable Burger!!

Ah well, I can’t hope to compete with a Vijay Vargal but here’s the second best veggie burger!

VEGGIE BURGER

  • Burger buns – 1 for a normal person. 4 big + 4 small for hungry, growing ten-year olds!

For the patty:

  • Boiled mixed vegetables – potatoes/carrots/peas/one piece beetroot if you want red patties/tender beans – 3 cups
  • Minced green chilies – 2 – 3
  • Chopped mint leaves – 2 tbsp
  • Chopped coriander or parsley – 1 tbsp
  • Red chili powder – 1/2 tsp
  • Chat masala – 1/2 tsp
  • Lemon juice – 1 tsp
  • Cornflour – 1 tbsp
  • Salt
  • Oil to shallow fry
  • Breadcrumbs to coat ( I usually freeze the end slices of bread and blitz them in the mixer with a few basil leaves – you get an interesting basil-flavoured crumb)
  • Mash all the vegetables except the peas. Gently mix in the peas and everything else. Work the cornflour in gently. Shape into large patties. Roll in the crumb. Fry on a shallow tava with a few drops of oil. Set aside. You should have about 4 large patties (1/2 ” thick)

For slaw:

  • Mayonnaise – 1 cup
  • Fresh ground mustard – 1.5 tsp (this is not difficult at all – grind the mustard in a stone mortar with a few drops of water – you’ll never use store-bought mustard again!
  • Shredded cabbage/lettuce/carrot/onion/apple mixture – 2 cups
  • Minced chili – 1
  • Chopped mint or coriander or basil – 1 tbsp

Mix together. Set the slaw aside.

Ketchup and lettuce leaves – 1 or 8 🙂

Sliced tomato / cucumber -1 large each

Cheese slice – if you want it

 To assemble:

Tawa fry the burger buns after slicing in half horizontally, with a little butter. On the bottom half, smear ketchup. Place a lettuce leaf and pile on the slaw. Place the patty on top. Add sliced cucumbers/cheese slice/tomatoes. Cover with the top half of the bun. Pack them in a ten-year old’s lunch box!!

( pic courtesy internet)