PreeOccupied

Color my Walls "Gerua"

2016-01-15T10:37:00.000-05:00

I am back from India. With suitcaseful of home decor stuff, homemade gond laddus, ghagra-cholis stitched by the best Masterji in town, and songs of Arijit Singh in my heart. The laddus have been eaten, LMN will have to wait till Diwali to wear the ghagra-choli, Arijit’s songs play on surround sound all day at home, and in my ears when I am commuting/ at work.

My home smells of Sugandhi dhoop from Patna. Those once bare walls look great with the new Madhubanis. The tiya pakhis are waiting to come to life and scream out “Mitthoo” all together!

And you my dear friends get a glimpse of my desi home all over again…

And see these bland walls in the master bedroom? I now do plan to paint them Gerua!

Something About Shukto On A Dark, Dismal Day…

2015-04-08T12:46:00.001-04:00

It wasn't supposed to be like this. I was supposed to be a cookbook-writing Bengali. I was supposed to have my own cooking show. I was meant to sign my cook books. I was supposed to look all fab, and flaunt my manicured nails while chopping onions on television. I was meant to look like a Bengali version of Goddess Nigella, in lal-parer sari and sindur’er teep.

But here I am. working 8:30 to 5 pm.Taking the subway home each day from the financial district of TO. If I am lucky, I can get into the first train that arrives on the platform while I am waiting. Waiting with the hundreds of people on the downtown subway station. Everyone looks the same. In a hurry. Dressed in black. Tired. Withdrawn. Like workdogs, who are only trained to well…work! ~~I have become one of them.~~ I am one of them.

I dress in black, not because it looks classy, but because its easy to dress in. And it also makes me look slim.

Its another thing that three-fourths of my wardrobe is black.

And then I see color peeking through the dark clouds and the dark clothes all around me. Vibrant, luscious, beautiful colors in the ingredients of Shukto. Green, white, purple, yellow, and some more green.

Shukto or Shuktoni is a medley of fresh vegetables. It has the perfect balance of bitter, sweet and savory. A food very sophisticated and time taking to cook. Its always made from scratch in Bengali homes. Its a starter for many memorable meals. This dish is made to be mopped clean with rice. Eat the shukto and rice with your hands and experience manna-like experience down here on Earth. Incredibly enough, the Shukto is personally satisfying and it has been on my agenda to share it with you.

Its a pretty engaging recipe with several vegetables and ingredients. But the key ingredient for traditional Shukto is bittergourd or karela and a whole spice blend we call paanch phoron - fenugreek seed, Nigella seed, cumin seed, celery seed and fennel seed in equal quantities. Apart from the usual ginger paste, posto paste and yellow mustard paste.

For this dish, Bengalis typically use easily available vegetables in the Summer season. I have used uchche (bittergourd), sheem (broadbeans), shojne data (drumsticks), begun (Oriental eggplant), alu (potato), potol (parwal, sorry I do not know the English name!), lal alu (sweet potato), and mulo (radish).

On another day, if I do not find any of the green vegetables in the Bangladeshi store, I’d replace it with borboti (longyard beans), or kanch kola (green banana). But uchche is a must! Anyone cooking THE Shukto without bittergourd is not really a Shukto.

Ingredients for Shukto

1 large bittergourd, cut lengthwise into two inch pieces

1 large white potato, cut into two inch large sticks or Batonnet

1 medium size sweet potato, cut into Batonnets

Handful of fresh drumsticks, cut into two inch pieces

1 plump Oriental eggplant, cut lengthwise into two inch pieces

Handful of broadbeans, halved if large

Handful of longyard beans, cut into two-three inches

1 small radish, cut into Batonnets

Handful of potol, cut into two inch pieces

2 tablespoons poppy seed/posto paste (Start by dry grinding posto seeds and then add water little by little to make a smooth but thick paste)

2 tablespoons yellow mustard paste (Follow the process mentioned above)

2 tablespoons ginger paste

2 tablespoons roasted panch phoron powder (dry roast the panch phoron on low-medium heat and make a coarse powder)

1 and a half tablespoons whole panch phoron

Handful of bhaja bori (I did not have it, and hence skipped adding)

2-3 bay leaves

Sugar

Salt

Ghee for cooking and garnish

Start by heating ghee in a kadai/thick wok/pan. Add the bittergourd pieces and shallow fry for a 3-4 minutes till they get coated with the ghee, remove with a slotted spoon and keep aside. Now add each type of vegetable in no particular order and shallow fry them and keep. Do not be lazy and mix all of them together for shallow frying. One at a time. That’s how Grandmothers and Mothers made Shukto! Even the ones who worked outside.

Once all the cut vegetables have been shallow fried, mix all of them in the same wok and cook together for 3-5 minutes with sugar and salt.

Now add the posto-ginger-mustard paste and coat all the vegetables nicely. Let the vegetables cook on medium heat in their own juices. Add very little water if the moisture is drying up. The consistency of Shukto should be makha-makha, or thickish. The three different paste used eventually make the dish quite thick. Check the taste, and adjust sugar and salt. The vegetables should have cooked through but not mushy.

In a small butter pan, heat ghee and add the bay and the whole panch phoron. Once the seeds crackle, add the garnish to the vegetables cooking. Mix everything well and turn the heat off.

Just before serving the Shukto, add the dry roasted panch phoron powder and the (already fried) crushed bhaja bori.

Serve warm with gorom bhaat/rice to start a traditional Bengali meal. I usually sit there with a smug look on my Nigella Lawson-like face as I see my guests savor the delicate flavors of a traditional Shukto, often asking for seconds. I am pretty pleased with my Shukto outcome - juggling between a job, a kid, the kid’s dad, and living in a country called Cantartica!

Pots of Gold in My TO Balcony

2014-05-18T17:59:00.001-04:00

A two-dollar sectional wicker tray used for my marigolds. The tiger clay is hand-painted.

A view of one of the corners. Its usually, clay/terracotta, wood, stoneware, shells, etc. which I use for my balcony decor.

Yesterday, LMN and I finished our herb box project. The wine crate came free from a liquor store. And I filled it up with oft-used herbs – Mint, coriander, flat and curly-leaf parsley, sage, lavender, Thai basil, sweet basil, and rosemary.

There is even a baby bay plant in there to make my pulaos fragrant!

I must confess, this year, I have created an abundance of marigolds in my fourth floor garden. Their warm and inviting colours remind me so much about the festivities back home.

But there are some days I also like zinnias. And gondharaj/gardenia.

We are enjoying a blast of Spring and our pots of gold. The next project to do for LMN and I is to plant some gondhoraj lebu/fragrant lime seeds we have saved into the richness of potting soil and wait…

For more pictures and updates from my sunny balcony, click here.

Uthapa Aunty’s Coorgi Murgi

2013-08-05T11:40:00.001-04:00

Mrs Uthapa was my mother figure during my short life in Bangalore. She lived in the apartment next door and worked in a bank. She wore neatly pleated cotton sarees, and fresh Mallige (jasmine) flowers braided in her wet hair. She rode a Kinetic Honda to work at the State Bank of India.

“Aunty”, as you’d address any elderly lady in urban India, soon became quite friendly with me, and would even discuss things like her two sons’ careers and higher education with me. We would also exchange bowlfuls of freshly cooked food. I would give her a taste of my North Indian cooking fare, while she mesmerized me with her Pandi Curry and sometimes this Coorgi Chicken Curry.

The only thing I did not like was when she came with Bevu Bella (Neem and jaggery) during Ugadi. The neem from her hands brought out my extreme dislike of bitter. But she put a gun to my head and made me eat it and pretend I enjoyed it! My Mama would have been so pleased, because never in her life has she been able to make me eat neem-begun.

Anyway, here is how I made Uthapa Aunty’s Coorgi Murgi.

Ingredients for Uthapa Aunty’s Coorgi Murgi are:

1 chicken, cut into curry pieces
1 large red onion, finely chopped
1 four inch piece of fresh ginger
6-7 tablespoons of freshly grated coconut (I used the frozen variety, Deep brand)
5-6 green chilies (Aunty’s recipe does not have them, but I do add them)
2 tablespoons tamarind extract
Handful of coriander, leaves and stems
5-6 cloves
2 pieces of cinnamon
1 teaspoon turmeric
1 tablespoon coriander powder
1 tablespoon black pepper powder
Cooking oil
Salt

Start by heating the oil in a pressure pan. Add the chopped onions and sauté till they are lightly browned. Add the chicken pieces. Make sure there is no moisture in the chicken. Mix well and cover and cook till the chicken has turned brown.

Meanwhile, finely grind the cloves and cinnamon. You could use whole coriander seeds and dry grind them with the cloves and cinnamon. But I used store-bought coriander powder instead.

Add the powdered cloves, cinnamon, coriander, turmeric and black pepper powder to the chicken and coat the pieces well. Season with salt. Cover and cook for 5-6 minutes on low heat.

Now wet grind together the ginger, fresh coriander, and green chilies. Add this mixture to the chicken and cook for 5-6 minutes, covered. Add enough water to cover the chicken and spices. Cook till done, or you see oil releasing from the chicken and bubbling on the sides. Add the grated coconut now. And mix well. Let it bubble with the chicken for about 5-7 minutes. The coconut adds natural sweetness to the dish and thickens the curry.

Finish the Coorgi Murgi by adding the tamarind extract. Do a taste test and add more salt if needed. Serve with plain rice or with appams. And think how wonderful your life is to be getting your hands to such recipes which are family specials from faraway Bangalore. Thank you, Uthapa Aunty.

Mutton Saagwala for the Popeye of My Life

2013-07-25T11:27:00.001-04:00

Its summer here. Which means we have an abundance of everything. Including spinach. But before that, take a look at the more colorful summerlicious moments I managed to see with my lenses.

Now for the recipe for Mutton Saagwala, loosely translated as mutton (a generic term in India for goat meat) cooked in spinach. A healthy, delicious meat curry most often cooked in winters in India by many North Indian families. It has strange resembles to Palak Paneer.

Well, my two cents are that this dish could possibly be palak paneer for the hardcore mutton lovers.

Ingredients for Mutton Saagwala are:

1 kg goat meat/mutton (I buy the shoulder portion with enough marbling from my butcher lady)
400 grams spinach, cleaned, washed, and chopped coarsely, stem and leaves, and pureed with little water
1 small can of tomato paste
1 large, juicy red tomato, pureed
1 large red onion, finely chopped
2 tablespoons freshly ground cumin powder
2 tablespoons pureed garlic
2 tablespoons pureed ginger
2 tablespoons green chili paste
1 teaspoon red chili powder
1 teaspoon turmeric powder
1 teaspoon garam masala powder (black+green cardamoms, cloves and cinnamon)
3-4 tablespoons ghee
Julienned ginger for garnish
6-7 dry red chilies for garnish
A few shavings of (frozen) unsalted butter for garnish
Salt

Start by heating the ghee in a large pan. Once it is really hot, add the onions and sauté till lightly browned. Add the meat. Make sure there is no moisture/water in the meat. This will help you get a nice, brown color to the mutton.

Add the green chili paste, cumin and garam masala powders to the meat and let it cook on low heat, covered all the time for 10 minutes.

Now add the pureed ginger and garlic, season with salt (I use sea salt), mix, cover and cook for another 10 minutes.

Scrape the spices and onions from the bottom of the pan and let them cling on to the mutton.

Add the pureed spinach, red chili powder and turmeric to the meat and mix. Crank the heat up to medium and let the pureed spinach bubble for about 10 minutes. Once you have spinach splinters attacking you, add the tomato paste and puree and cook covered for 10-15 minutes on low heat.

You will see the change of color in this dish – from a bright, green to a moss-colored. Slowly, but surely a thin line of oil will appear at the sides of your cooking pan. At this point, you have a choice of adding your work-in-progress Mutton Saagwala to the pressure cooker to cook through the mutton. I did that and waited till two whistles went off to cook my mutton.

Transfer the Mutton Saagwala to a serving dish and garnish generously with shavings of unsalted butter, julienned ginger and dry red chilies. You can add some green ones too for added heat and color.

Serve Mutton Saagwala with warm chapatis and salad. A meal like this should be consumed by keeping quiet, and listening to your own chomps and burps. Meals like this also make a family less cranky and more happy. I have proof. My almost-two-year-old sealed my Mutton Saagwala with her stamp of approval by saying “nice” and “wow”, all in the same breath in between her dinner.

Enjoy!

Ghar Ki Murgi with Methi Greens

2013-07-16T23:23:00.001-04:00

This is one of those recipes where everyday, boring chicken can be made into something interesting. We have been having an abundance of methi/fenugreek greens here at this time of the year. Perfect picker upper for an otherwise mundane chicken curry. And its so easy, you can sneak it into your dinner even on a crazy work day.

My Mum used to make Methi Chicken as well during winters in India, when she was sick of rolling out theplas. We would eat this thickish chicken in fenugreek greens curry with hot, fluffy chapatis. The sauce would most often be clinging to the pieces of chicken, the methi leaves emanating a strange, bitter smell. Bitter in a good way.

You can grow your own methi (microgreens) right in your balcony. Here is how! This is how my Ma-in-law grows her methi in Delhi.

And this is how my Mum buys her methi greens in Jamshedpur.

While I buy my tiny bunch of methi for $1.99 here from a supermarket, then meticulously pluck the leaves off the stem to finely chop them and prep them for this curry.

Ingredients for Methi Murg are:

600 grams chicken, skinless please!
1 cup of finely chopped methi/fenugreek greens
5 tablespoons plain yogurt, whisked with one cup water
1 medium red onion, finely chopped
2 tablespoons ginger paste
2 tablespoons garlic paste
5-6 green chilies, finely chopped
1 small piece of ginger, julienned
4-5 tablespoons mustard oil
Salt

Heat oil in a large, flat pan. I used my clay/terra cotta pan. Sauté the onions till they are lightly browned. Add the chicken and green chilies and brown the chicken on both sides.

Next add the pureed ginger and garlic and cook on low-medium heat till the chicken starts to release its juices.

Now add the methi greens. Coat the chicken with the chopped greens and gradually turn the heat up.

After about 4-5 minutes of cooking the methi greens with the chicken, turn the heat off. Let the chicken cool down a bit.

Now add the whisked yogurt, and a little water if necessary. Mix well. Turn the heat to low-medium and cook until chicken is tender and the sauce is thick. Also, the sign to look out for is to see if the chicken releases a thin line of oil at the sides. You know then that the spices have cooked through.

Season with salt and garnish with the julienned ginger. Your everyday chicken has now attained the prestigious title of Methi Murg and is ready to be served with soft, fluffy chapatis and salad.

My Notes on Phulko Luchi

2013-07-09T14:44:00.001-04:00

Traditionally, luchi is made with all-purpose flour only. It’s called Maida’r Luchi in Bengali.
However, in many homes these days the use of maida has been toned down.
What I do is, mix 1 cup wheat atta with 2 cups of maida and knead the dough with about two tablespoons canola/vegetable oil.
The dough for luchi has to be hard and not soft like the kind we knead for chapatis.
I knead my dough and keep it covered for about an hour and then knead it again to tighten it up and smoothen out any air bubbles.
Poke a finger to your dough, if you see a dimple form, you know your Luchi’r dough is perfect.
In other words, your dough should be like a baby's bottom!
Divide the dough into slightly smaller-than-a-lime-size balls.
Round each ball by rolling it between the palms of your hands.
Roll out each luchi by slightly contacting the ball of dough with the warm oil from the karhai/wok. Luchi should be evenly rolled out and thin.
Luchi should be made in a round karhai. Usually it was a cast iron wok, large enough to fit a couple of luchis at one time. Modern day kitchens have replaced the traditional kodai/karhai with non-stick woks which work fine as well.
Heat vegetable/canola oil until almost smoking, and slide in the luchi. One at a time.
With a jhanjhra/slotted spoon, press lightly to fluff up the luchi.
Turn the luchi before it gets brown. Many families also add a pinch of sugar to their dough to get extra caramelization on their luchi, as sugar burns up quickly. You can do away with it.
It takes just a few seconds to deep fry a luchi.
Keep each puffed up luchi on paper towels for the excess oil to drain off.
Serve as you make them or immediately.
Luchi is best eaten with chholaar dal, mota-mota alu bhaja, begun bhaja, shada alur chorchori, kosha mangsho, ghugni, payesh, or kheer.
Jam, chini, jhola gur, bonde, doi, jilipi come a close second! ;-)

Kheer Kamala for Khukumoni

2013-07-05T22:38:00.001-04:00

Every summer, Didumoni would arrive from Muzaffarpur. To spend time with her grand daughter – the 12-year-old Khukumoni. The young Khuku studied in an elite boarding school in the hills and would come home for her summer vacations from May to June every year.

Didumoni would bring jhola-fuls of Shahi Litchi, Langra Aam, ripe Kanthal, dark, plump Jaam, sackfuls of rice and dal and gawa ghee and other seasonal homegrown fruits and vegetables for Khuku and her parents, Didumoni’s daughter and son-in-law.

Dadu always stayed back to take care of his barristery work. He would however send his old navy blue Aston Martin with red leather seats and his young wife of 58, the two most precious things of his life on a road journey with his most trusted Dhanushdhari Singh to Patna.

In June, Patna would be hot. A strong, hot, arid wind would blow all day making it impossible for humans and animals to be out when the sun was shining. The brave ones who ventured out would have their faces covered with a gamcha drenched in water. Others stayed indoors enjoying the cool breeze of their khus and mogra-scented air coolers. And some others spent their afternoon in the kitchen! Just like Didumoni.

Even in the scorching heat of 40 degrees, Didumoni and the young help of the house – Beenapani spent hours in the large kitchen making goodies for the family. Didumoni knew her time at her daughter’s home was limited to the one-month she spent with them every summer. She wanted to make the most of it. She wanted to make all of what she had learnt from her Mother and Thakuma.

When Didumoni came to Patna, gas stove cooking would stop. The clay unoon would flare up, and Beenapani would fan it with all her vigor with the haathpakha to make the embers go leaping like an untamed adolescent.

One late afternoon, Didumoni and Beenapani were busy slowly cooking the creamy milk to make kheer. It was a cooler day today and they kept the windows of the kitchen and bhandar ghar open for some ventilation.

Lucy, the family dog, whose pedigree no one knew or talked about lay on her back outside the kitchen. Her legs looking up as if asking the heavens to shower her with Didu’s kheer!

Beenapani was meticulously following Didu’s instructions and gently rolling the oranges between her palms to loosen the segments inside. Then, with deft fingers, she peeled each fruit to expose the juicy, delicious wedges. She was further instructed to remove the thin, white membranes off each wedge of orange and gently keep each piece of flesh in a bowl.

That, Didu said would complete the kamala kheer she was making for Khukumoni.

Just when Didu was finishing up ladling her kheer in a rekabi to go into the fridge, she heard a gentle yet sprightly whistling sound. Someone was standing by the bhandar ghor window and whistling!

The whistling sound was soon followed by a very familiar sound. A slight hiss made when someone disposes their liquid on a wall! Someone was relieving himself by the window!

This got Didu furious. She plucked the jug full of water from the floor and splashed it from the kitchen window, aiming towards the whistling visitor.

Clearly, the intruder was taken by surprise and let a startled squeal, which got drowned by Lucy’s full throated barking.

Meanwhile, Beenapani who did not want to be left out, stretched her arms out of the bhandar window and threw some orange peels and seeds at the hapless human with the gamcha around his neck who had succumbed to a full bladder.

Didu muttered a couple of chaste syntactic beep words in Bengali and cursed the dhuti-wala man who was taking a leak by their window.

Beenapani thought this would teach the man a lesson and continued to praise Didu and tell her how clever she was to splash him with water.

Just then the sharp bell of the door at the entrance of the garden rang. Beenapani and Lucy sprang in action and went running to the door.

There was Masterji, Khukumoni’s Hindi tuition teacher walking in with his rickety bicycle, his wet gamcha lying limp on the handlebars of his rickety Atlas cycle. His head heavy and chin drooping. His limp, wet tiki lay curled on the crown of his bald head.

Beenapani realized who the intruder by the window was and quietly tip-toed away to Didu. She whispered her great discovery with bouts of giggle in Didu’s ears. Didu was nodding her head and suppressing a laugh all at the same time.

Didu bit her tongue and winked at Lucy. Lucy let out a boisterous, long yawn and returned to doing what she did best - sleep.

Later, Didu asked Beenapani to take a bowl of chilled Kheer Kamala to the study for the Hindi teacher Masterji. That should work as a peace offering. After all, teachers are incarnations of Gods. A bowl of cold thickened and flavored milk and fresh, juicy oranges should re-ignite a damp ego and get that floppy tiki spring back up with pride.

Ingredients for Kheer Kamala are:

1 liter half and half
2-3 oranges, peeled and each section cleaned off the white membranes/threads, and opened up to expose the edible flesh
5-6 drops of orange essence
1 heaped tablespoon of zest of orange
Sugar to taste

Slow cook the half and half till it reduces to a thick, creamy consistency. It usually takes about an hour of cooking on very low heat and stirring continuously to get to the kheer consistency.

Midway of the cooking process, add the zest of orange and the orange essence. Keep stirring continuously and scrape any thickened milk and cream from the bottom of the pan. Turn the heat off and stir in sugar to taste. Let the kheer cool off. Chill for a few hours.

Gently fold in the sweet, juicy pieces of orange into the chilled kheer and serve. Your Kheer Kamala is that simple. But you’d agree, most precious things are simple. Just like our own grandmothers.

Shrimply Hot and Spicy Chingri Maacher Bora

2013-06-19T21:16:00.001-04:00

I love my chingri. And I love my camera. But there are days that even my iPhone can take award-winning pictures! Especially the nights no one wants to wait for a food photo set up and all that drama of an elaborate spread at the dinner table.

And Instagram? That makes phone photos look even better. I am an avid Instagrammer. In my mind, all my photographs are prize-winning. Including the lame artichoke picture I took one day while buying groceries at Bloor Street Market. But artichokes don’t make chingri’r bora. Pink, juicy, shrimps do!

Now these chingri boras are very deceptive in nature. You might get tempted to gobble them all up when they come out golden and crispy from the wok while you are frying in more. Or you may just behave and exercise that wavering self-control and serve these beautifully, hand-crafted shrimp fritters to the ones you love. I promise they will love you back.

Ingredients for Shrimply Hot and Spicy Chingri Maacher Bora are:

500 grams largish shrimps, deveined, de-shelled and cleaned (I used tiger shrimps)
1 medium size red onion very finely chopped
Handful of green chilies very finely chopped
Two inch piece of fresh ginger very finely chopped
7-8 fat cloves of garlic very finely chopped/minced
Handful of fresh coriander very finely chopped
2-3 tablespoons besan
4-5 tablespoons rice flour
1 egg
Salt
Mustard /canola oil for deep frying

Start by cutting very small pieces (something in between mincing and chopping) of the cleaned shrimps. In a large bowl, add all the ingredients (except the oil!) and pound together. I did not add any water, since my shrimps were frozen and thawed, which meant they had a lot of moisture in them.

Growing up, I saw Mum pulverize her kucho chingri in the food processor or have the help grind it coarsely on the sheel nora for her chingrir bora. But you can work with my method as well if you don’t mind getting a little messy on the chopping board.

Make tiny balls of the shrimp mixture and deep fry in hot oil.

Make sure you have the oil really hot and then reduce the heat to medium while the boras are frying. This way they will cook through and you won’t end up with raw insides smelling of raw shrimps!

Fry the shrimp fritters in small batches till they are lightly browned. Remove with a slotted spoon and drain excess oil on paper towels.

Serve with rice, mushurir dal, kurkure alu bhaja and salad or pass a try full of these chingrir boras with your favorite cocktails. You will definitely have people asking you for the recipe.

P.S. The pictures in the post are all from my iPhone. It was convenient because we were so hungry. Not because I have single digit IQ and can’t handle a camera.

Gulab’s Gushtaba

2013-06-02T16:57:00.001-04:00

It was the 1980s. Kashmir was still peaceful. And middle-class Bengali families chose it over Shimla and Dehradun as a great summer holiday getaway. We did too. It was a great family vacation, with the extended family joining in as well. Uncles, aunts, cousins and an annoying toddler sibling.

As a six-year-old, I was the hip, corduroy-clad tomboy. At two, my sister was a social embarrassment for me. I wouldn’t touch her with her pole. And she somehow thought spending time with me was her only goal in life.

Sibling revelry apart. My memories of Kashmir from that trip of ours is pretty vivid. Lush green valleys of Gulmarg, the narrow, rapid, murmuring brooks, the innumerous pony rides, the luscious roses and dahlias of the Shalimar Bagh. And when we were not enjoying all the scenic beauty or shopping for jackets, mittens, pullovers, and chinar leaf bedspreads, we were busy eating apples and walnuts after a marathon session of apple picking at one of the local farms. A lot of our time was also spent in living in a quaint houseboat on the Dal Lake.

His name was Gulab. He was the houseboat owner. He would row his own shikara and come visit us, his guests every day. Making sure we were well looked after, bringing freshly cut lotuses for the women in my family. He would sit and chat over cigarettes and kahwa with my father and uncles. He always wore the traditional pheran over his jeans and carried a kangri to keep him warm.

Gulab smoked a lot of cigarettes. One time I saw him smoke five cigarettes all at the same time. He tuck each between his five fingers and smoked. I think he was showing off his smoking skills. But that did not deter my Mum and Aunts to become friendly with him. Apparently he was an awesome cook. And had promised the ladies he’d teach them some traditional Kashmiri dishes.

The kitchen of our houseboat was huge. There were attendants who would make us fresh meals every day. Everything was made of hardwood. I would love to tap loudly on the floor with my shoes just for the acoustics. Very unusual for a kid who never knew anything but concrete mosaic floors.

In that enormous kitchen, Gulab held his court with three women hastily taking notes. Two Kashmiri recipes in one day. This was a bumper for the Bengalis!

Ingredients for Gulab’s Gushtaba are:

1 kg goat mince meat (ask your butcher to mince some fat with the meat)
Handful of fresh mint leaves
500 grams plain yogurt
1 medium red onion, finely chopped
2 tablespoons fennel powder
1 teaspoon fennel seeds
1 tablespoon Kashmiri red chili powder
1 tablespoon coriander powder
1 tablespoon + half teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 teaspoon dry ginger powder
1 tablespoon + 1 teaspoon green cardamom powder
3-4 black cardamoms
1-2 sticks of cinnamon
3-4 green cardamoms
2-3 cloves
1-2 small barks of ratanjot (optional, traditionally a Gushtaba recipe does not use ratanjot)
One generous pinch of asafetida
1 teaspoon ghee/clarified butter
2-3 + 3-4 tablespoons Mustard oil
Salt

Start by pounding your mince meat. Add to the meat about 10 finely chopped mint leaves, 1 teaspoon fennel seeds, 1 teaspoon green cardamom powder, half teaspoon black pepper powder, 1 teaspoon ghee, and salt. Pound some more and make lemon-size meatballs and keep aside.

Heat water in a large pan and season it with salt, a couple of black and green cardamoms and a little drizzle of ghee. Bring the water and spices to a rumbling boil. Gently drop the meatballs one by one in the boiling water. Don’t overcrowd the pot. Release 4-5 meatballs at a time and cook for 3-4 minutes on high heat. Remove with a slotted spoon and keep.

For the one kilo mince meat that I used, I got about 20-22 meatballs made.

Let the stock/water from the meatballs cool down completely.

Meanwhile, shallow fry your chopped onions in 2-3 tablespoons mustard oil till they turn brown. Grind them into a smooth paste and keep.

In a wok, heat 3-4 tablespoons mustard oil, add to it the bark of ratanjot and let it color the oil.

Remove the barks with tongs and add the whole black and green cardamoms, cinnamon and cloves. Let them splutter for a few seconds. Add the asafetida. Next add the onion paste. Sauté on medium heat. Now add the red chili powder, coriander powder, black pepper powder, dry ginger powder, fennel powder, green cardamom powder and mix everything well. Let all the ingredients cook on low heat for 3-4 minutes. Turn the heat off and keep.

Whisk the yogurt in the water from the meatballs. Slowly add it to the onion and spice mixture you have prepared. Make sure everything has cooled down before you mix with one another. Else, the yogurt will curdle. Bring the yogurt and spice mixture to a roaring boil. Season with salt.

Release the meatballs in the runny yogurt gravy. Cook on high for about 8-10 minutes. Turn heat off. Do a taste test. Add more spices if your taste buds want a balance of flavors. I had to add more pepper powder and fennel powder.

Add finely chopped mint leaves to finish your Gushtaba. Serve warm with plain rice or chapatis. A salad is recommended for a complete meal.

Enjoy Gulab’s Gushtaba. That’s all I have left in my food memory from almost three decades ago.

Ameena Alam’s Chingri Bhorta

2013-04-20T14:37:00.001-04:00

I am always on the lookout for exquisite recipes. You know, those family treasures which you never find in cookbooks. And I am glad I have a set of people who always indulge me. So I wanted a rui recipe, and ended up making Ameena’s Chingri Bhorta, a spicy mash of tiger shrimps. That’s how much I love my chingri. And now second to the shrimps, its the owner of this recipe – Ameena Alam that I love!

Ingredients for Ameena Alam’s Chingri Bhorta are:

400 grams tiger shrimps, deveined and cleaned, cut into small pieces
1 small red onion, finely chopped
1 thumb-size piece of ginger, finely chopped
2-3 fat cloves of garlic, finely chopped
Few sprigs of coriander, finely chopped
5-6 green chillies, slit lengthwise
5-6 dry red chillies
3 + 2 tablespoons mustard oil
Salt

Start by heating mustard oil in a pan. Add the dry red chillies, ginger and garlic in it and sauté them on medium flame till the ginger-garlic become soft. Do not brown them.

Remove with a slotted spoon and transfer to your blender’s jar. In the remaining oil, add the shrimps. Cook them till they turn pink. Remove from heat and add to the blender jar with the other ingredients. Make sure you scrape the oil if any from the pan into the jar.

Use the pulse mode in your blender or “mixie” to create an uneven consistency of the ingredients. Its okay for some of the shrimps, red chillies, ginger or garlic to remain chunky. That’s the idea of this bhorta.

Transfer the shrimps in a bowl, add the chopped onions, coriander, sliced green chillies, salt and add a good drizzle of extra virgin mustard oil, about two tablespoons.

Mash everything together and serve while the bhorta is still warm. Preferably with mushurir dal and bhaat.

Thank you, Ameena! Your Chingri Bhorta became an instant hit with the husband and I.

Amader Barir Chirer Pulao, Flattened Rice Pulao from a Bengali Home

2013-04-05T16:43:00.001-04:00

Apparently some Professor of some University somewhere around the world put up a note in class about how he knows when students are “texting” in class, “because no one looks at their crotch and smiles”, it said.

Now that may have triggered some chuckles in campus, but that’s the reality. And it’s not the teens and tweens who are having endless conversations on their smartphone devices. Its us adults too. In between meals, meetings, coffee breaks, at the dinner table and while out on a date, and even while putting the baby to sleep.

Its wonderful how our two thumbs can do so much talking! Thank god there are no Dronacharyas around in this day and age. Between the husband and me, cell phones and television are banned during meal times. That is something I have learned from my own Mother. We wouldn’t have TV on during lunch or dinner, unless there was some life changing India-Pakistan cricket match happening. Cell phones with texting features did not exist then.

What did exist were plain old black telephones, with their black curly cords. Where people would chat for hours, without the fear of being charged by the minute. The receiver was so heavy, our hands would ache from just holding it. I still remember when as a 10-year-old, we got the first phone at home. It took us three years of wait time to have a phone connection back then in the late 1980s. But then it was another century then. The Nineteen Eighties. That was also the time, I as a budding pre-teen hated taking a lunch box to school. Though, now that I look back, I’d probably say my sister and I had the best lunches in class. Nutritious and interesting food prepared by my Mum every morning.

This Chirer Pulao was a winter favourite of hers. It makes for a sumptuous mid-day snack for growing kids if you pack it with seasonal vegetables and nuts. There were also no nut allergies back then!

The ingredients for Chirer Pulao are:

1 cup chire/chura/flattened rice, choose the thin, long-grain variety
1 potato, remove the skin and cut into small cubes
1 small red onion, finely chopped
Handful of cauliflower flowerets, cut into small pieces
Few green chillies, finely chopped
Half cup green peas (frozen or fresh)
Handful of broken cashew nuts
Handful of peanuts
Handful of raisins
Handful of fresh coriander, finely chopped
Vegetable oil
Sugar
Salt

Begin by heating oil in a thick pan. Add the cubed potatoes and shallow fry till they turn golden brown. Remove with a slotted spoon and keep.

In the remaining oil, add the cauliflower. Shallow fry till lightly browned and keep.

Add the peanuts (first), cashew and raisins in that order and sauté on low heat till the peanuts and cashew are lightly browned.

Add the green peas and cook for a few minutes without parching the peas and making them look all wrinkly. Keep them out with the potato, etc.

In the remaining oil, add the green chillies and onions and sauté till translucent.

Quickly but thoroughly wash the chire and drain in a colander. Add to the cooked onions, etc. Mix.

. Now add the other shallow-fried ingredients – potato, cauliflower, peas, nuts, and raisins. Mix well. Keep moving the wet chire around in the pan till it gets coated with all the other ingredients.

Season with salt and sugar and add the chopped coriander.

Do a taste test and adjust the seasoning if needed. Serve the Chirer Pulao warm in little bowls or send some packing for lunch to your kids’ school.

Indiyeah - Go Green with Desire

2013-02-27T21:58:00.001-05:00

Hara chana, literally means green gram. A winter staple if you have grown up in Bihar like me. We would wait all year to snack on these crunchy, fresh chana. Nature makes them available in tiny little pods, which are a pain to open! But once you have cracked the puzzle, its a world of green goodness inside. My favourite to make with hara chana is a quick freestyle salad. I am also partial to hara chana being sautéed with green chillies and chopped red onions and eaten with chire bhaja. My Bihari friends however vowed about bharbhara, homemade hara chana fritters.

Peyaaj koli are those beautiful green onion flowers/buds you see all through winter in India. Chop them up and make a nice tarkari with it. Throw in some potatoes, maybe a handful of tiny shrimps too and you have cooked a winter storm, in a nice way. Or add them to your small fish curry. I however, am not a big fan of peyaaj koli. The flavour is quite intense if you like onions.

That guava was the solitary fruit in my Mum’s two-year-old guava tree back home. My Mum did not wait much longer to pluck the pyara from the tree. There was too much hullabaloo under the guava tree by squirrels, sparrows, crows and a certain crazy photographer from Canada. We shared one guava among five of us and ate it with beet noon, that potty-smelling salt! Guava is very good for digestion, in case you did not know.

Paan. Juicy betel leaves are stuffed with rich and luxurious spices and betel nuts to stain the lips and teeth of bonedi ladies and roadside Romeos alike. But my memories of paan always conjures up the image of my Mother’s Grandmothe r. She sat propped up on her bed, like a queen on her throne. Her silver betel-leaf box by her side. She would rest one arm on a paash balish, hold a paan leaf and dextrously dole out paan after paan with the other. Each paan treat was customized, depending on who she made it for. She never went to a dentist and lived till the ripe age of 95. Toothless by then, but still loved her paan.

Money plant. Every Indian home has it. Popular belief has it that the lusher your money plant is, the richer you will become. No one buys money plant in India. You always steal a stem when that soon-to-be-rich neighbour is not watching. You bring it home and grow it anywhere – vases, light bulbs, snaked on moss sticks, in a small pot by the washroom window. Or your workstation, just to get even with the boss.

Holy basil or tulsi. Just like the money plant, most Indian homes will have a little tulsi plant to worship or snip off to make that kaadhaa for cold. But unlike the money plant, no one steals a tulsi plant. You just walk up to your neighbour and ask for a sapling. Quite rightfully.

Bengali Mishti Pulao

2013-01-31T16:08:00.001-05:00

The Bengali Mishti Pulao is something that I have always, always invariably overeaten. And that happens even with my own cooking.

When I was little, it was well-known in our family that “Rini loves Mishti Pulao”. So one time my grandmother and I went to lunch at a certain Kakima’s place. The kind lady had made my favourite – Bengali Mishti Pulao and Mangsho. I was about four, maybe five. I had a couple of spoons of the mishti pulao, and said to the unsuspecting aunt, who was probably looking to score some points with a five-year-old pulao connoisseur – “You do not know how to make Mishti Pulao, please learn from my Mama. She makes it the best.”

And I put my spoon down, much to the embarrassment of my grandmother. That was probably the last time we were invited over to that Kakima’s place.

My love for Mishti Pulao has rubbed on to LMN as well. And I am so proud about that. Last month when we were in India, my Mum made her signature Mishti Pulao and gave some to my daughter with little shreds of kosha mangsho. Undoubtedly LMN loved it. I think she even wanted some in her bottle!

Mishti Pulao is a sweet, aromatic rice dish for the blue-blooded. Its great on its own, but has the capability of taking you to Pulao Heaven if you eat it with slow-cooked mutton curry (or chicken curry), sometimes even chholar dal or alu-phulkopir dalna on that no-non-veg Shoshti day. Its so good, I could take it intravenously.

Though most of the times, I make my Mishti Pulao with high quality Basmati rice, you ought to make it with Gobindobhog rice, the short-grain rice every Bengali vows for. My Mishti Pulao even has fresh green peas in it, just like they serve in Bengali weddings.

Ingredients for Bengali Mishti Pulao are:

2 cups Gobindobhog or Basmati rice (washed and drained, kept in a colander/sieve for 10-15 minutes)
Half cup fresh green peas
1 tablespoon grated fresh ginger
1 heaped teaspoon turmeric powder
Handful of cashews
Handful of raisins
2 tablespoons ghee
2 + 2 green and black cardamoms
4-5 cloves
1 medium size stick of cinnamon
Quarter teaspoon grated nutmeg
2 bay
Few drops of lemon juice
Sugar
Salt
3 and a quarter cups of water

Begin by heating the ghee in a wok/pan.

Add to the ghee the bay, cinnamon, cardamoms, and cloves in no particular order. Give them a minute to crackle and make the ghee fragrant. Now throw in the cashews and raisins. Make sure you turn the heat to the lowest mark, lest the cashew and raisins burn.

As soon as they turn golden brown, add the rice. Mix it around to coat with the ghee and other ingredients. After about 3-4 minutes, add the peas, ginger and turmeric.

Mix all the ingredients with the rice. And move the rice around in the pan for 2-3 minutes on low-medium heat. Now add the salt and sugar. Mix and keep in the pan for a minute more. Its important to now turn the heat off lest the sugar melts and caramelizes the rice. That’s a spoiler.

Add the grated nutmeg and pour the rice into a microwaveable bowl, and squirt a few drops of lemon. Add three and a quarter cups of water, seal the bowl with a lid or cling wrap and microwave for 20-22 minutes.

Do a taste test and add more salt or sugar if needed. Serve the Mishti Pulao with Mutton Curry, Chicken Curry, Chholar Dal or eat on its own. And praise the Lord, for there is nothing compared to a bowlful of Bengali Mishti Pulao.

Super Fast Mushrooms in Minced Garlic and Parsley

2013-01-31T11:05:00.001-05:00

I promise this will be quick. This is one of those lame recipes which when brought to the dinner table has the personality to rub shoulders with your gorgeous main. Pair it with our centrepiece chicken roast or baked cauliflower, even your toasty baguette, and you will have a winner!

After the scintillating debut this dish made to our dinner table the other day, with about just a pound of Swiss brown mushrooms, the husband got all enthusiastic and got one kilo of white and brown mushrooms for two and a half people!

Yes, the baby ate it too and quite enjoyed sucking on the garlic sauce from the quartered mushrooms we gave her.

Ingredients for Mushrooms in Minced Garlic and Parsley are:

500 grams of any variety of small mushrooms, stalks removed, cleaned
1 pod of garlic cloves, peeled and minced
Handful of fresh, flat-leaf parsley, minced
1 tablespoon butter
1 tablespoons good-quality olive oil
Freshly cracked black pepper
Salt

In a pan or wok, heat the butter and the olive oil together. Add the minced garlic and parsley to the oil-butter. Let them sauté for a minute or two, make sure you don’t burn the garlic.

Now add the mushrooms face down if you are making about a pound. Make sure some of the garlic and parsley also goes inside the hollow of the mushrooms. You can also mince the garlic and parsley together, so that the flavours get married to each other right on your chopping board.

Let the mushrooms get some color from the butter-olive oil in the pan for the next 2-3 minutes. Then stir fry them on high heat for another couple of minutes.

Season with salt and pepper. Stir again. You will see the natural juices of the garlic and parsley bubbling at the bottom of the pan. That’s when you know you ought to turn the heat off and stop cooking the mushrooms.

Serve the Mushrooms in Minced Garlic and Parsley immediately. You can even serve this as an appetizer in a party. Just stick fruit picks in each mushroom and have the beautiful platter go around.

I had leftovers the next day and I used them to make a mushroom soup in chicken broth, with boiled and shredded chicken and tofu. There was no need for seasoning either. It was that good.

Indiyeah–The Phuchka Man

2013-01-28T12:09:00.001-05:00

Indiyeah–My Face is My Fortune

2013-01-22T14:58:00.001-05:00

Chingri Kaliakari or Malaikalia, Its the Mother of Prawns Anyway!

2013-01-19T18:27:00.001-05:00

So my Mum’s hybrid version of this chingri dish created some kind of buzz with my readers.

What was made by my Mum as an inventive, something-in-between a Kalia and a Malaikari turned out to be this head-turning stunner. We had it during our trip to India last month, and I was completely stumped by the way it teased me with its rich and silken taste, both at the same. I asked Mum, “What do you call this dish?” She said, “Its a no-name chingri. Just eat it.”

That was enough titillation for the food writer in me.

So here I am, writing down the recipe for you. Of course the creator of this recipe, my Mum has been adequately consulted about the ingredients and measurements.

Ingredients for Chingri Kaliakari or Malaikalia are:

*Thank you Sharmita Saha for the name suggestion.

12 large tiger shrimps/prawns (Use golda chingri if available)
1 medium size red onion, grated
1 large red, ripe tomato grated
Quarter cup grated fresh coconut (I use the frozen kind)
1 tablespoon ginger paste
1 tablespoon garlic paste
1 teaspoon green chilli paste or use 2-3 whole (don't add if kids are eating!)
2 + 1 teaspoons turmeric powder
1 teaspoon red chilli powder
1 teaspoon freshly ground garam masala powder (cinnamon, cloves, green and black cardamoms)
1 or 2 bay
4-5 tablespoons mustard oil
1 heaped tablespoon ghee
Sugar
Salt

Start by deveining and cleaning the heads of the prawns. I kept the tail on to make the shrimps looks pretty! Rub a couple of spoons of turmeric and salt.

Heat mustard oil in a wok. Add the prawns in batches and cook them on each side for a couple of minutes. Once the prawns turn pink, take them off the heat.

In the leftover oil, add half a teaspoon of sugar and let it caramelize. Take care not to burn it.

Add the bay, grated onions, garam masala powder and green chillies and mix. Cover and cook these ingredients on low heat for 7-8 minutes till the onions start turning light brown.

Now add the ginger-garlic paste and continue to cook covered for about five more minutes.

Next add the tomato and coconut, and mix. Add the turmeric and red chilli powder and continue cooking on low heat and covered all the time. It takes about 10-15 minutes of slow cooking for the raw taste to go away from the ingredients.

You will see little oil bubbles around the masala, season with salt and sugar and mix. Add the ghee at this point in time and cook for a couple more minutes.

Its safe to add water to your onion-tomato-coconut masala now. Add about one and a half cups of water and cover. Let this cook for another 7-8 minutes. Make sure you use gentle heat while cooking your masala sauce. We don’t want the onions and coconut to burn and give the dish a bitter taste.

One the gravy comes to a bubbling boil, slide in the prawns one at a time, making sure you don’t separate the heads from the tails.

Cook the prawns on medium heat in the gravy for about 6-7 minutes. Do a taste test and add sugar and salt if needed.

Serve your Prawn Kaliakari or Malaikalia with plain rice. And like most Indian dishes, it tastes even better the next day. In case you have leftover gravy, preserve it in the freezer. On another day, just sauté some shrimps and add to your leftover sauce and cook for 7-8 minutes. Voila! That saves you from all the grating and grinding.

Indiyeah – the Bioscope!

2013-01-18T09:16:00.001-05:00

Starting next week, I will publish photo posts on PreeOccupied from my recent trip back home.

I am starting with a shot of a bioscope, the travelling cinema we all ran to watch as kids, till multiplexes killed these low-cost entertainers.

More Indiyeah photos are here.

Nooks and Corners of My Desi Home II

2013-01-15T11:27:00.001-05:00

Maacher Bajaar, Its a Fish Market Out There!

2013-01-10T12:30:00.001-05:00

Maacher bajaar, Bengali for fish market is a way of life for people who love to get their catch for the day and bring home to their wives to cook.

Its a culture. Of waking up early in the morning and going to the local fish market to haggle with the fish monger and get the freshest fish for the missus to cook before the Bengali bhodrolok starts his day at work. Many Bengali men in small town India still prefer to start their days with a generous serving of rice and maacher jhol (runny fish curry) over a grilled sandwich. And why not!

Here are some photographs of how a typical maacher bajaar in India looks like. And if you are lucky, you will even find a sly little cat pretending to be a watchdog!

Were you able to name all the fish in this post?

Somnath Da's Kimbegunti, Inspired Begun Pora Mashed with Killer Keema

2012-11-23T16:36:00.001-05:00

When Somnath RoyChoudhury is not thinking “ads”, he is the muse for many food lovers all across the world.

Somnath and I were perhaps destined to meet, albeit online. He has immense knowledge about Bengali cuisine, particularly of the northern region of Bengal, and shares not just recipes, but little known facts about ingredients and recipes with a no-holds bar attitude.

Somnath Da, as he is lovingly called by many of his foodie friends stumbled upon this recipe of Bengali Begun Pora with Mince Meat while he was spring cleaning. This recipe was originally published more than 20 years ago by Anandabazar Patrika and belongs to Sujata Gangopadhyay.

The original recipe by Sujata Gangopadhyay asks for the brinjal/eggplant to be roasted by poking holes in it and stuffing the cooked keema (mince meat) in it. Then these inserts in the brinjal were plugged with garlic pods. Both Somnath and I skipped this step. Instead we have stuck with the more popular method of fire roasting our begun/eggplant/brinjal/aubergine/baingan!

Apparently, “Kimbegunti” is a pun derived from the Bengali word “Kingbodonti” which means legend. Also, if you look closely, you will see that the main ingredients of this dish are hidden in its name – Kim-Begun-ti.

Ingredients for Kimbegunti are:

For the roasted eggplant/begun pora

2 mid-size, light dark purple eggplant (about 750 grams) (Read how to choose an eggplant)
2 medium size ripe, red tomatoes
Few green chillies, woven on wooden skewers
2-3 tablespoons raw mustard oil
Salt

Slice the eggplant lengthwise till its stem/head, making sure you do not separate the two halves. Fire roast the eggplant till its mushy.

Fire roast the tomatoes whole till the skin is charred and the tomatoes are mushy.

The green chillies can be fire-roasted while the tomatoes are being done. Just get enough char on the chillies and keep whole.

For the keema/mince meat

300 grams mince meat (Somnath da used chicken, I used beef, the original recipe has goat mince)
1 medium size red onion finely chopped
1 tablespoon chopped garlic
1 tablespoon chopped ginger
1 tablespoon chopped green chillies
1 teaspoon freshly ground garam masala powder (Black and green cardamoms, cinnamon, cloves)
1 teaspoon ginger-garlic paste
1 heaped tablespoon fresh coriander paste (leaves and stem)
3 tablespoons plain yogurt, whisked with a couple of spoons of water
1 tablespoon fennel/mota mauri powder
1 tablespoon coriander powder
1 teaspoon turmeric powder
1 teaspoon Kashmiri lal mirch/red chilli powder
Half teaspoon black pepper powder
Juice of one lime
2 bay
2 tablespoons mustard oil
Fresh coriander leaves finely chopped for garnish
Quarter teaspoon sugar
Salt

While the eggplant, tomatoes and green chillies are getting fire roasted, marinate the mince meat with the black pepper powder, lime juice and salt. About 30 minutes should suffice.

Heat mustard oil a thick pan. Add the sugar and let it caramelize. Now add the chopped red onion, garlic, ginger, green chillies, bay and freshly powdered garam masala. Cook these ingredients on low-medium heat till they get coated with the garam masala and start releasing oil. Now add the ginger-garlic paste. Cook for some more time till the raw paste gets caramelized and turns light brown.

At this point, add the mince meat. Crank the heat up and brown the meat. Add the coriander powder, turmeric and red chilli powder.

Cook on medium heat for 5-6 minutes till you see oil surface on the sides. Turn the heat off and let the mince meat cool down a bit. Now add the coriander paste, whisked yogurt and fennel powder. Mix well and cook covered on very low heat lest the yogurt curdles.

Season with more salt if necessary. Remember that we had already added salt when we were marinating our mince meat. Cook the mince meat till the oil separates. Do a taste test and adjust accordingly.

Remove the charred skin from the eggplant and tomatoes as soon as they are warm enough to handle with your hands. The fire-roasted vegetables will also release a lot of juices as they sit in a bowl, make sure you have saved and used all that goodness.

Mash together the smoked eggplant and tomatoes with mustard oil and salt.

I did not mash the green chillies and kept them whole to be added at the end. Mix the eggplant-tomato mash to the cooked mince meat. Mix well, zing it up with some more raw mustard oil if you like it that way. Sprinkle some chopped coriander and mix that in.

DO NOT cook the eggplant with the mince meat now. The Kimbegunti is now ready to be eaten with fluffy rotis/chapatis. I added some sliced onions as well to my finished Kimbegunti.

My Mum's Fruit and Nut Cake

2012-11-19T15:48:00.001-05:00

This is the only cake we knew growing up in Patna. Fancy cakes with icing and frosting were only meant for birthdays. And were mostly pre-ordered from Channa Uncle’s Cake Palace and later his brother’s Polson’s in Dak Bungalow Road.

This is one cake which seldom goes wrong. Perhaps your Mum made it too. That trademark treat to have with your glass of milk, or chai for grownups.

When we did not have an oven, my Mum used to make this cake in the gas tandoor. Some Mums from the ‘80s even made it in the pressure cooker.

I have made this cake after years. Just because its the husband’s birthday tomorrow, and I wanted to treat him with something I have learnt from my Mum.

Ingredients for My Mum's Fruit and Nut Cake are:

1.5 cups all-purpose flour/maida
1 cup sugar, powdered in the grinder
1 cup canola/vegetable oil
1 teaspoon baking powder
3 large eggs
Quarter teaspoon vanilla extract
Raisins, walnuts, cashews, glazed cherries and tutti-frutti mixed together to form about half a cup
1 heaped tablespoon all-purpose flour (to dust the fruits and nuts)
1 tablespoon butter for the cake pan

Start by sieving the all-purpose flour and the baking powder twice. This will remove any lumps, etc.

Pre-heat oven to 350° F. Butter a round cake pan (today I used a Bundt pan). Line bottom with parchment paper, and butter the parchment.

Now beat together the flour, powdered sugar, eggs, oil, and vanilla extract till you get a smooth batter. (I use my blender.)

Scrape the batter into the prepared pan, and sprinkle the flour-dusted fruit and nuts on the batter. Shake off all the extra flour before you add them.

Bake for 45 minutes. Check by inserting a bamboo skewer in the cake. If the skewer comes out clean, your cake is done!

Slice and serve warm with tea, coffee or a glass of milk.

Between the four of us, a cake this size used to be over within minutes of my Mum baking it. This cake is great to bake during Christmas too. Gives you that old, world charm of eating a rustic, homemade cake and the house smells awesome too! Try it.

The Girl with the Phuchka Tattoo

2012-11-02T22:32:00.001-04:00

This is the story of a girl who loves phuchka. The girl who thought she’d marry a phuchka wala when she turned 13.

The girl who wished to have the words “phuchka” carved on her epitaph upon her death. The girl who wanted a tattoo of phuchka on her heart. That girl is writing this post today.

My love for phuchka is famous. Even my in-laws joked that they’d have phuchka at my wedding reception, much to the shock of my Grandmother! Who still believes I will someday elope with a phuchka wala.

But why elope now? When I can make the meanest phuchka at home! And as a fringe benefit, I am married to a guy who is equally passionate about phuchka. Our getting-to-know-each-other over phone, emails, instant messenger was somehow always about that four letter word: F-O-O-D. Followed by the mention of the inevitable phuchka. After we got married, many times we’d do pillow-talk about phuchka too. Okay, I made that up.

I am a pretty tough girl when it comes to eating phuchka. I completely forget my hoity-toity convent education and get downright mainstream when it comes down to gulping phuckka after phuchka with élan. My personal best is a whopping 30!

I am also pretty touchy about calling my phuchka by the correct name. Its not pani-puri or gol gappa or gup-chup. Its phuchka. Pure unadulterated phuchka. The kinds you get on the streets of Calcutta.

I make the dipping water or phuchka’r jol by grinding together few sprigs of fresh coriander and a couple of green chillies. I then mix this paste with some tamarind pulp, kala namak, a pinch of red chilli powder, bhaja moshla and lemon juice. And pour enough water to fulfill the needs of dunking each stuffed phuchka in the water and then drinking little shot glasses of it on its own. You can throw in a few cubes of ice too. Just for special effects.

For the potato filling of the phuchka, I swing between using cooked lal chola (red gram) and yellow peas. I personally prefer the version with cooked yellow peas. Begin by pressure cooking the yellow peas (soaked overnight) with just enough water to cover them. One or two whistles should do it.

Now take ladlefuls of the cooked yellow peas and mix with boiled potatoes, chopped coriander, finely chopped green chillies (or green chilli paste if you can handle it!), bhaja moshla, kala namak, lemon juice and spoonfuls of the “water” we have already prepared. Give it a good mash, but just enough to retain the shape of the yellow peas. And please use your hand to do this.

It may be phuchka blasphemy for some, but I also add some chopped red onion to my potato-yellow peas mixture. I like it this way. You can completely give the onions a miss.

With all our bombastic, homemade ingredients now ready, its time to set your mouth on a flavourful fire.

Since I am not that enterprising, I choose to use store-bought phuchka. Convenience does have its own charm. Poke each phuchka right at the center with your thumb. You will probably end up crushing at least two or three if you are a first timer. Pretend to be a pro. For phuchka’s sake!

Stuff a little of that potato mixture, quickly dunk in the spicy tamarind water and directly put the ready-to-eat phuchka in your mouth. This should happen in seconds. No dilly-dallying. Else you will not only make the phuchka soggy with the wet ingredients, you will also deprive yourself from a burst of flavours in your mouth by two nanoseconds.

So go ahead. Pop that phuchka in quickly. For next awaits you is a plateful of alu kabli.

P.S. Did you realize there was no story to tell in this post? I just wanted to way lead you into looking at some phuchka photographs.

Thanksgiving with Tandoori Bhutta

2012-10-12T12:53:00.001-04:00

In this short life of mine, I do have a lot to be thankful about. Like the vast expanse of corn fields from where comes the produce of my favourite thing in this whole wide world.

Its no secret that I adore corn. I used that same love for corn and mixed with some tandoori masala to make some Tandoori Bhutta/ Sweet Corn for Thanksgiving last week.

I am running late on this post. I can explain. But that can wait.

Before that, take down the recipe for Tandoori Bhutta.

Ingredients for Tandoori Bhutta are:

4 corn on the cob
3 tablespoons plain yogurt
3 tablespoons ready to use Tandoori mix spice
Juice of 1 lime/lemon
2-3 tablespoons mustard oil
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
Salt

Mix together all the ingredients, massaging the spice blend, yogurt, mustard oil and salt into the corn.

Marinate for 3-4 hours.

Use a stove top rack/ roti mesh to roast the corns on direct fire. I have an electric cooking range, and the roti mesh works fine for me.

Make sure you switch the vents in the kitchen on when you are making the tandoori corn. It gets really smoky in there.

Baste the corn with the leftover marinade from time to time. Use butter to brush on the corn.

Keep moving the corn around to get equal cooking time on all sides. Once you see adequate char on the corns, take them off the heat.

Wrap aluminum foil at the stems for easy holding/eating. Squirt some lemon juice on them and serve immediately.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone. We have so much to be thankful for everyday of our lives.