Thepla for the Soul

Oooh! Did you make those again? Is that what we're having for dinner?

Sorry, kiddo! I am just digging into my archives. [pout]Another day, maybe? When I get fresh methi or I remember to grow my own, like Shyam does?

You promise? But of course!

She went away rather morose, knowing that she would get a third instalment of rotisserie chicken makeovers for dinner. I thought of making dal with unripe mangoes just for her but slaving over a warm stove, no matter how inviting, was not something I wanted to do with an achy back. I helped pack-up the Book Fair at her school yesterday and I knew I should not have helped lift those heavy boxes or move chairs but what is done is done.

Thepla is a spiced unleavened flatbread from my husband's home state of Gujarat. Although I'll have you know that I knew how to make this much before we knew each other. There are as many variations to methi na thepla as there are to batata vadas, all of them without onions and peas. I know not where my version hails from but I learned it by watching a Maharaj at work.

Methi na Thepla

• 1 cup whole wheat flour
• 1/3 cup besan
• 1 bunch methi
• 1/2 bunch cilantro (optional)
• 2-3 tbsp oil
• 1/4 tsp mustard seeds
• pinch asafetida
• 1/4 tsp turmeric powder
• 1/2 tsp red chilli powder (optional)
• 3-4 Thai chillies (more, if you want to up the heat), sliced thin
• 4-5 kadipatta leaves (optional)
• 1 tsp grated ginger
• 1 cup yogurt, whisked (approx)
• Salt to taste

1. Wash methi and use only the leaves, discarding the stems. Pat dry and then chop fine.
2. Wash the cilantro and chop fine.
3. Mix the two flours and salt in a bowl.
4. Heat the oil in a small saucepan and add mustard seeds. When they splutter, add asafetida, followed by green chillies and then kadipatta. Keep a splatter guard handy to keep the mess at a minimum.
5. Make a 'well' or a depression in the flours and put the chopped methi leaves and chopped cilantro leaves into it.
6. Add grated ginger, turmeric powder, and red chilli powder.
7. Pour the hot oil over the leaves. You will hear them sizzle!
8. When the oil cools enough to handle, pick out the kadipatta leaves and if you wish, the green chillies, too. Gently rub the leaves and seasoned oil into the flour.
9. Knead a firm dough using only as much yogurt as required to bind the dough. You do not want the dough to be too soft or sticky.
   
10. Let the dough rest for at least 15-20 minutes. Cover with a damp paper towel or kitchen towel.
11. Heat a tava in the meanwhile.
12. Divide the dough into small balls, about 12-13 and roll them out till they are at least 6 inches in diameter.
    
    
13. They must be translucent.
    
14. Put the rolled out thepla onto the hot griddle. When its color has changed slightly or it developed little brown spots, flip it over.
15. Drizzle a little oil over the surface and spread it. Let the thepla cook some more and then flip it over again and drizzle some oil onto this side and spread it.
16. If you have the paratha-pressing contraption, press down on the thepla and rotate the thepla. Do this until both sides have cooked and have some pretty golden spots.
    
17. Serve hot or at room temperature with chundo or with yogurt mixed with jiralu.

Notes:

• I use a little more besan than what is specified in most recipes. We like the taste of besan and I remember seeing the Maharaj add a fairly large amount of besan in proportion to the whole wheat flour.
• Most thepla recipes do not use seasoned oil and I have found that this ups the taste-level significantly.
• Theplas need to be rolled out thin. If they are not transclucent, then you are making methi parathas, not theplas.
• Theplas need a large amount of oil and must be cooked using oil or ghee. They are usually stored at room temperature and are perfect finger food in lunch boxes as well as for picnics. You could use less oil but then you might end up with chewy or extra crisp theplas depending on how long you cook them.
• They are said to last at least 4-5 days in an air-tight container. Ours never last more than the next day.

Theplas spell a special type of comfort food for us. It really is food for the soul because when I make theplas there is no chatter, just the silent sound of eating. Sometimes those eating cannot even bear to pull the bottle of chundo out of the pantry and settle for ketchup.



Thepla recipes abound on the net:
About.com
Smita Serves You Right
CuisineCuisine.com
Madhuram's Eggless Cooking
Monsoon Spice

Khandvi

It is still I, Anita, holding the reins here! I had meant to get here sooner...but I needed to squeeze in a couple of trips outside Delhi so that all of you could get a(nother) glimpse into rural India. On both trips I was traveling on Indian Rail, and a great way to travel it is. On many express trains today meals are included into your ticket price. The food can be barely edible to fairly good depending on which train you are on and which part of the country you are traveling through.

On the first of the two trips, to Bharuch (Gujarat), my colleague and I had an older Punjabi woman as our companion. A veteran traveler on the Indian Rail, she shared advice freely with us. Chatting up fellow travelers is getting rarer and rarer as we (Indians) become more western in our attitudes and redefine our concept of private space. There was a time when it was common courtesy to share your food with fellow travelers; how impolite it seemed if you opened your tiffins and ate all by yourself. Those days are almost gone; we had better enjoy the conversations while it's there.

I am sure you want me to share the Punjabi Aunty's gems... My much-younger colleague was telling us how she finds herself cooking the same-old same-old all the time. Well, what do you know? Have you tried adding sambar powder to your bhindi subzi? I interjected that I had tried it with potatoes...Well, had I tried it in curried potatoes with poori? And, did you know that one of the best ways to cook the uninspiring bottle-gourd is with wadi? [Cook it just as you would wadi aloo, replacing the potatoes with the squash.] Guess what was for lunch the day I returned? Finger-licking good; you have my word.

Another very intriguing tip she gave, which I haven't tried yet, was about the addition of salt. Most of us add salt to our subzi after we have added the vegetables; well, if we add it to the tadka it will be quite another story it seems!

Our client in Bharuch served us quite the breakfast after we declined the hotel buffet. Let me try and see if I can recall it all. There was dhokla, sev khamani, pattis (fried dumplings filled with savoury-sweet spicy potato mix), bakarwadi, bhajjia (with methi - yum)... washed down with masala chai. Everything other than dhokla, was deep fried, and most had besan as the main ingredient. The variety of besan preparations in vegetarian Gujarati and Maharashtrian cooking is truly astounding.

I learnt to make Khandvi, also called surali chya vadya in Marathi, from my mother-in-law, a popular Gujarati snack which is quick, easy, and also low-fat. It hits the spot when you are looking for some healthy instant gratification.

Khandvi


equal parts besan (gram flour), water, and yoghurt
(1 cup besan will yield 4 servings)
pinch of turmeric
salt

for tempering:
1-2 tsp peanut oil
hing, a pinch
1 tsp mustard seeds
2 tbsp fresh or frozen grated coconut
2-4 tbsp chopped cilantro


Whisk all ingredients together to form a smooth slurry. Cook in a heavy-bottomed or non-stick pot till it has thickened and the besan is cooked (5-7 min). Use a few drops of oil to grease inverted thalis or baking sheets. Spread a ladleful of the cooked paste quickly on to the prepared surface, as thin as possible. You have to be quick as the paste will keep thickening as it cools. I use a wooden spoon to do this which allows me to handle a very hot paste. Repeat till you have used up all the paste.

While this cools, prepare the tempering. Heat the oil in a heavy pan. Add hing followed by the mustard seeds. Cover the pan to catch all the spluttering seeds. Turn heat off.

After the paste has cooled (a few minutes), score at 1.5" intervals and roll from one end. Alternately, you can make one big roll and then cut into 1.5" sections. Spread the tempering evenly over the khandvi. Sprinkle generously with grated coconut and cilantro.

Will stay fresh in the refrigerator for up to three days.

With a recipe that is very much at home in Manisha's kitchen, I hand her blog back. I hope her loyal readers enjoyed this brief interlude (the recipe is a bonus!) and have not changed their feeds already.


The other trip, it was to Wagah (near Amritsar)... another time perhaps (another place?).

Kaachi-paaki, easy-peasy

No peas in this one. But easy it is.

Kaachi-paaki, literally translated from Gujarati, means uncooked-cooked. Or raw-cooked. That's what this sabji is all about. It's partly cooked to retain the inherent flavor of the vegetable, in this case cabbage, as well as a fresh crunch. For best results, the cabbage needs to be shredded very fine so that the fiery tempered oil can coat every strand of the vegetable. I usually buy a bag of Angel Hair Coleslaw and ignore the fact that some brands also contain carrots. When I am in one of my moods though, I do spend some time slicing the cabbage into fine strands with a sharp knife.

Kaachi-paaki

Cabbage salad

• 1 packet Angel Hair Coleslaw
• 1-2 tbsp oil
• 1/2 tsp mustard seeds
• 1/2 tsp cumin seeds
• pinch asafetida
• 7-8 kadipatta
• 2 green chillies, sliced vertically and deseeded
• 1 tsp urad dal
• salt to taste
• 1-2 tbsp fresh lemon juice
• cilantro to garnish, if you like

1. Heat oil in a large pan
2. Add mustard seeds and when they start to pop and splutter, add asafetida. Keep a splatter screen ready to prevent a mess on your stove.
3. Add cumin seeds, curry leaves, green chillies and urad dal. Lower the heat and fry till the urad dal turns golden in color but without burning any of the other seasonings.
4. Turn up the heat, add the coleslaw, salt and lemon juice and toss quickly till the coleslaw is nicely coated in the oil. The more time you spend on this, the less crunch you get.
5. Take the pan off the stove and garnish with cilantro, if you are using it. Allow the flavors to meld and serve with hot rotis or eat it by itself! It's great warm or cold.

Notes:

• Use more green chillies to up the heat. You can slice them vertically to blend with the cabbage. I avoid this because it gets too spicy for Medha.
• I have made this with dried red chillies as well and it is just as good.
• Add as much lemon juice as you like. I tend to make this a little on the sour side, sometimes adding as much as the juice of half a lemon.
• Depending on the amount of crunchiness you like, adjust the time you spend tossing the coleslaw on the stove. I've had it several ways: less crunch, easy to chew and less noise at the dinner table! More crunch, more noise, more flavor! We like it crunchier.
• With Angel Hair Coleslaw, this Kaachi-paaki takes about 5 minutes to make!

Try it with red cabbage, too! And yes, I buy Ready-Pac shredded red cabbage if I can find it.

Trivia: This is what we had for dinner exactly a year ago today. (And, several times every month since it's so easy to make and a real favorite with us.) It's kind of interesting how my photo archives are more focused on food and landscapes than on portraits! I need to fix that! Or do I?

Update: I am sending this to Kalyn's Kitchen for this week's Weekend Herb Blogging, which calls for recipes and/or informative posts featuring any herb, plant, vegetable, or flower. Veggie, it is. Cabbage.