Easy Bread Recipes on www.myjhola.in

1. Basic Brown Bread
2. Brioche
3. Ciabatta
4. Croissants
5. Donuts
6. Focaccia
7. Hokkaido Milk Bread and Nutella Rolls
8. Olive, Basil, Sundried Tomato and Garlic Bread
9. Pita
10. Pita (Video)
11. Pull-apart Pesto Rolls
12. Pull-apart Bread Rolls
13. Blueberry Focaccia (Video)
14. Simple everyday loaf (Video)
15. Calzone (Video)
16. Spanish Flatbread with Chorizo, Tomato and Oregano
17. Stollen
18. Sundried Tomato Bread
19. Pizza
20. Wholewheat and Bran Bread with Sundried Tomato and Rosemary

Finding fresh herbs in the suburbs may have become easier than before, but supply continues to be unreliable. So, when one does discover an innocent pack of very perky looking oregano, one brings it home immediately.

I made this bread several months ago, but I remember exactly how excited I was when I found the pack of fresh oregano. My immediate reaction was to think of making pizza but by the time I got home in the horrid Mumbai sun, I was dead. The very thought of making pizza dough and sauce from scratch pained me. So instead, I made this lovely flatbread and we downed it with a hearty soup. It was a particularly fulfilling meal. There’s no questioning the holy trinity of ingredients here, but with the Goan chorizo I found in my town’s Goan Christian locality, there was a distinct lift in flavor. The intense, salty chorizo liberally laced with Indian chili contrasted the freshness of the tomatoes and oregano well enough for me not to want to add any kind of cheese. A good drizzle of olive oil was all that it needed.

Spanish Flatbread with Chorizo, Oregano and Tomato

Ingredients:

• 2 1/2 cups of plain flour
• 1 tbsp. fresh or instant yeast
• 1 tsp. sugar
• 1 cup lukewarm water
• 1/2  tsp. salt
• 1/4 tsp. coarse sea salt (for sprinkling on top)
• 2 tbsp. + 1 tbsp. olive oil
• 5-6 sprigs of fresh oregano
• 2 medium-sized tomatoes, sliced
• 2 chorizo sausages (pepperoni if you can’t find it), thinly sliced
• 1/2 tsp. chili flakes

Method:

1. Place the flour and salt in a mixing bowl.
2. Add yeast and sugar to the lukewarm water, mix briefly and set aside for 5-10 minutes until frothy.
3. Add the yeast mixture to the flour and knead to a soft dough, adding more water if required. Now add the 2 tbsp. of olive oil and knead again to incorporate the oil. (You could do all this in the food processor to save time.)
4. Leave to rest for 20-25 minutes.
5. Meanwhile, grease a baking sheet and pre-heat the oven to 200 degrees centigrade.
6. Press the dough onto the greased sheet, flattening as you go. The dough will shrink back a bit, but don’t worry about it.
7. Lay the tomatoes, chorizo, and oregano on the dough. Sprinkle coarse salt and chili flakes and drizzle the 1 tbsp. of olive oil.
8. Bake for 15-20 minutes until risen and golden.
9. Serve warm with soup or on its own.

The Internet has been carrying a lot of buzz about Sun Tea. It seemed like something I would like to do (if and when I found the patience) but I always put it on the back burner thinking I’d like to add some fruit to it. But fruit is difficult to find in my pantry for uses other than direct consumption! Then, the other day, I found a local vendor who keeps gorgeous, exotic fruit–I hopped over and bought redcurrants, mandarins, citron, grapefruit, Thai guavas, mangoes, and what not! The freshness of that fruit really sent me in a whirlwind of activity that whole day and I made several recipes using the fruit (besides eating it every now and then, too!)

One of the many things I made, was this Sun Tea. I am trying to detoxify for an impending surgery and raw foods, green tea, and similar beverages have suddenly occupied center stage.  It was only fitting that I tried making some Sun Tea; and I was so delighted that I did! It was a lovely, mellow tea, the fresh citrus flavors infused slowly into it all day. The sprig of mint I pulled out of the window garden just added a lovely contrast to the warm color scheme apart from a fresh lift of flavor. I spent all of the late afternoon and evening sipping on it as I worked (on an exciting new project that I am waiting to announce–but all in good time).

Point is, make sun tea while the sun shines.

Sun Tea with Mandarins and Citron

Ingredients:

• 1 liter of water
• 2 bags of tea (I used Earl Grey Green Tea, and it worked beautifully with the citrus)
• 2 mandarins, sliced
• 1/2 a citron or 1 Indian lemon (sliced)
• a sprig of mint
• 1 tsp. sugar, if liked (I skipped it because I take my tea without sugar and the mandarins were really sweet)

Method:

1. Muddle everything in a large jug, squeezing the citrus juice into the jug before you pop it in, rind and all.
2. Keep in a sunny spot for 3-5 hours, allowing the tea to brew on its own as the water heats up in the summer sun.
3. Serve in pretty glasses, warm or cold.

In Khanapur, where I spent several childhood summers, as in all coastal regions of India, tender cashew nuts are sold in the local vegetable markets by the kilos or by some other standard measure. These tender nuts, still in their outer skins, are very fresh, usually plucked that dawn, and are to be consumed the same day. As a result, the tender cashew nut used to be a rarity in cities far away from the cashew farms. In Mumbai, a select few vendors would bring their wares to sell in tiny, forgotten lanes in the city. In the intensely Marathi suburb of Dadar, a Konkan-based farm hand would sit  at a strategic location for just a few hours every morning to sell the tender nuts–olay kaaju (literally “wet cashews”). My mum would time her chakka-buying trips to make the most of this rare occurrence.  A few hundred grams would come home, and we’d eat this usal (a preparation that usually involves stir-frying or braising nuts or beans) as a treat. In my old Khanapur, though, the tender cashews were cheaper, and often just brought back from a farm, so they were eaten a-plenty. My aunt would freeze some and add them to chicken curries as a special treat long after the season was over. Today, thanks to refrigeration technologies, more stores have started stocking the tender nuts, making them more accessible for a longer period of time and to more people.

A few days ago, I found these beautiful cashews at a mango vendor’s–this vendor puts up a stall every season for a few weeks, selling their lovely Alphonso mangoes from Devgad in the Konkan region of Maharashtra. They also have my beloved Pairi mangoes–sweet and sour mangoes that are excellent for aamras, freshly sundried kokum, tender cashews, papads, and other fun stuff from the coast. I promptly brought them home and made the family favorite. We wolfed it down with the season’s first aamras, hot polis, and a cool wintermelon and yogurt curry. If you are lucky enough to find tender cashew nuts where you live, I urge you to try this simple and quick recipe–it shows off the  rich flavor of the tender nut and will easily occupy a happy spot on your plate and in your heart! If not, simply soak the dried cashew nuts in warm water for a couple of hours and use. It won’t be quite the same thing, but it’ll be quite something, I promise you that!

Tender Cashew Stir Fry

Ingredients:

• 2 cups tender cashews, soaked in warm water and peeled (you can also use soaked dried cashew nuts)
• 1 tsp. ghee
• 1-2 green chilies, chopped
• 1/2 tsp. cumin seeds
• a pinch of asafetida
• a large pinch of roasted cumin seed powder
• salt to taste
• 1/4 tsp. sugar
• 1/4 cup freshly grated (or frozen, unsweetened) coconut
• a small handful of fresh coriander, chopped

Method:

1. Heat the ghee on medium heat in a wok or pan. Add the cumin and green chilies and saute momentarily until fragrant. Add the asafetida and immediately tip in the tender cashews.
2. Toss lightly (try not to use a spoon–the cashews are very tender and brittle) and add the salt and cumin seed powder. Cover and cook for 4-5 minutes.
3. Add sugar, coconut, and coriander and toss one final time. Remove and serve hot!

I’ve eaten a whole lot of coconut fudges after that–from stores, at people’s homes–and I’ve realized that I have never liked any. They’re too sweet. Or too dry. Or there’s too much cardamom. It is never the vadi from my childhood. I have never even attempted making it–I am sure it won’t be up to the mark. But the other day, in the middle of dealing with my own and my daughter’s sickness, I was craving the familiar brush of her cotton white nine-yard saree pallu, softened with repeated washing, the smoothness of her wrinkled fingers as she distributed the coconut fudge, her reassuring smile. I often wonder how a woman like her would manage taking care of children, a house full of constant house guests, cooking, keeping house, and shouldering the responsibility of being a municipal corporator. She didn’t have access to fancy gadgets or home delivery options. And yet, she did such a fab job–the house was always impeccable, a fresh bunch of flowers arranged beautifully in corners and on tables, fresh chutneys and pickles and other fun things to eat in the pantry, and always a handmade gift tucked away in some cupboard to give a sudden guest. I am not one-fourth of what my great grandma was.

Anyway. I was craving a mouthful of comfort, and I had some good dessicated coconut in the kitchen. I decided to make a coconut tart–this is how it turned out.

Buttery and short pastry slathered with homemade strawberry jam and filled with fudgey coconut. It sliced well–clean edges, even when it was warm. When set, it got even better! It would be a lovely teatime treat–or with a scoop of ice cream, an indulgent dessert. Try it!

Coconut Fudge and Jam Tart

Ingredients for the shortcrust pastry:

• 100 gms. cold, salted butter, cubed
• 200 gms. flour, cold
• 2 tsp. icing sugar
• 2 small eggs (or 1 medium egg and 1 egg yolk)
• 1/2 cup dried beans (for blind baking)
• 3 tbsp. strawberry jam (Any berry jam or apricot/peach jam would work here)

Ingredients for the Coconut Fudge:

• 1 cup dessicated coconut
• 3 tbsp. ground almonds
• 5 tbsp. caster sugar
• 2 tbsp. condensed milk (or 3 tbsp. milk powder)
• 200 ml. (1 carton) double cream
• 1 egg
• 1 tsp. pure vanilla extract or 1 vanilla bean, scraped

Method:

1. Place the cold butter, icing sugar, and flour in a food processor with the cutting blade on. Pulse until the mixture resembles breadcrumbs.
2. Now add the eggs, one at a time and pulse again until just combined. The mixture will still look dry but will be ready.
3. Tip the mixture onto a sheet of cling wrap and bind using the cling film. Wrap into the cling, flatten into a disk and refrigerate for 15-20 minutes.
4. Roll the shortcrust pastry between sheets of cling to a 1/2 cm. thickness. Line a 9-inch tart tin with the pastry using the help of the cling. Press down and trim the excess.
5. Prick the base of the tart with a fork. Line teh base with the leftover cling wrap and pour the beans over. Wrap loosely into a parcel. This will weigh down the pastry when it bakes.
6. Bake in a pre-heated oven at 180 degrees centigrade for 15 mins.; then, remove the cling wrap and beans and bake for another 7-8 mins. until pinkish golden.
7. Meanwhile, make the filling by simply whisking all the ingredients together in a bowl.
8. Remove the tart case from the oven. Brush a liberal layer of jam while the case is still hot. This will help the jam layer to set well.
9. Pour the coconut mixture in, right to the top. (You will be left with a little extra mixture; just add 1/2 tsp. baking powder to that and bake alongside the tart in a separate pan for a little coconut cake!)
10. Return to the oven and bake for another 15-20 minutes or until the coconut mixture appears set.
11. Remove, cool for 10-15 mins. and cut into wedges. Serve warm or cold.

The market is flooded with color (who needed Holi and its painful issues with water and chemical color?). There are greens in a zillion shades, cooling the eye in the infernal heat, and there are these bright yellows and reds that can pick your mood. Just the sight of a vegetable cart filled to the brim with happy, fresh vegetables makes me think the world is a nice place, after all.

A few weeks ago, I spotted these pretty baby peppers, red chilies and tomatoes with their crown on (still rare, where we live) and I jumped for joy. Bought them immediately and put them to use the very next day. I had a batch of freshly sundried cherry tomatoes, and with a bit of couscous, it made for a lovely, light and flavorful summer lunch. Try it as a main or side with some roast meat. For a gluten-free version, use samo seeds or vari instead of couscous. Also replace sundried tomatoes with bacon, chorizo, or leftover roast chicken or veggies of choice. The couscous also makes an excellent bed for grilled or braised lamp chops, by the way!

 Here’s a quick recipe:

Sundried Tomato Couscous Stuffed Baby Peppers

Ingredients:

• 6 baby bell peppers (or 3 medium-sized peppers)
• 1/2 cup couscous
• a small handful sundried tomatoes, chopped (I used my sundried cherry tomatoes)
• a small handful of flat leaf parsley
• 2 cloves of garlic, finely chopped
• 1 shallot, chopped
• 1 tbsp.+ 1/2 tsp. olive oil
• 1/2 tsp. red chili flakes
• Salt to taste
• 3/4 cup Vegetable stock or water

Method:

1. Cut off the tops of the peppers and using a paring knife or sharp spoon, scoop out the seeds. Save the tops!
2. Brush the 1/2 tsp. of olive oil on the peppers and roast in a preheated oven at 18- degrees centigrade for 10 minutes.
3. Meanwhile, make the couscous. Heat the 1 tbsp. oil in a pan and add garlic and the shallot. Saute briefly, until fragrant.
4. Tip in the sundried tomatoes and couscous. Add the chili flakes and salt. Saute for a minute. Now, add the stock or water and cook covered until cooked through. Stir in the parsley and keep warm.
5. When the peppers are cool enough to handle, fill them with the couscous, pressing down so they hold shape.
6. Arrange in a greased baking dish. Cover with the tops and return to the oven. Roast for another 15 minutes until the skin of the peppers is blistered and the juices are slightly caramelized.
7. Serve hot!

So in any case, I decided to treat myself to a food walk at Fort. We started at Bombay Store, once known as Bombay Swadeshi (and still called that in our home) where we would buy our block printed tablecloths and bedspreads once upon a time. I wandered around the store, feeling the familiar handwoven fabric and staring longingly at the beautiful clay ware. This is where the Finely Chopped Fort walkers met, got introduced to each other and generally got pumped for the rest of the day. And the first stop was the one that I was eagerly waiting for. Yazdani Bakery. A Mumbai icon. A tall-ceilinged, sweet smelling, benign, almost in-limbo Irani bakery. Kalyan sat us down and ordered what seemed like endless cups of Irani chai and plates and plates of Bun Maska and Brun–the former a sweetish, soft bun sliced horizontally and slathered very generously with good old Amul butter and the latter, a hard on the outside, soft on the inside, Indian Ciabatta-type bun that is a popular accompaniment to the chai. It is served cut into thick slices, which you dunk into the sweet, hot, milky tea. The brun immediately becomes mush, making it an ideal snack for toothless old Parsis (and comfort seekers like me!)

While the group talked about the history of the place, I looked around and crossed my fingers that they’d let us see the kitchen. Luckily for us, the accommodating younger generation was on the throne that day, and we were happily let in. At this point, my friend Rhea noticed that I was probably not breathing. I was so awe-struck by the dark, dingy kitchen that I probably didn’t notice my jaw drop. We walked across the large weighing scale, past the old, loin-cloth clad baker who was busy shaping oat and raisin cookies, over a zillion (150, actually) trays of laadi pao (another Mumbai icon–soft, pull apart buns eaten with curries or by themselves, but almost always with fiery batata wadas and misal) and toward that warm, comforting light at the end of the room. It came from the century-old wood-fired oven, where all the Yazdani breads are baked. It is large enough to house 150 trays of pao at a time. And they do countless such cycles through the day. The aroma of sweet yeast was doing things to me–I have no memory of who said what. I do remember, very clearly, the shaping counter, the fact that this bakery needed no wicker baskets for proofing, no fancy equipment. There was no sign of any chemicals, just bags abd bags of flour. A few packets of raisins here and there. Some slices of tomato and herbs left over from the previous batch. It was heaven. I’d spend every afternoon there, just watching these guys bake.

We did go to Apoorva for some sol kadhi-neer dosa-prawn gassi, Ideal Corner for Pallao-daal, cutlets and Raspberry, Pradeep Gomantak for fried Bombay Duck, and later to Vidya Dairy for jilebis. Of course, I was still in a daze. Was almost tempted to go to Bora Bazaar and pick up veggies from m grandma’s old favorite vegetable sellers and grab some Panha at the Bedekar shop. We went to a branch of the Philips Coffee and Tea Company–my gran bought her weekly quota of coffee from the Colaba store, which is now sadly shut. I bought a kilo of Peaberry beans for my gran, though. We ended at Swagath for coffee, stuffed to the gills, hot and sweaty, but with un-wipeable smiles. Right next door, of course, was Strand Book Stall–our childhood book jaunt–we were given a separate allowance in the vacation just for books, and guess where we spent it. This tiny shop, bursting at the seams with well curated books, is still just as it was–warm and inviting, still offering a 20 per cent off on each buy. Kalyan and Kainaz, his gracious wife, saw us off with goodie bags from Yazdani–what else could one ask for! But as you can see, I owe Kalyan for much, much more.

By the way, he’s doing his third Food Walk, the Bandra Legends Walk this Saturday–he just might have some spots left–go check it out! I’ll sign out with a few images from the Fort Walk.