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?).

Season for Change

Well, well...how is the weather where you are? Is it spring yet? The changing weather is the least news-worthy of things tonight. What do you say - would you like to see some changes on IFR? I know I would. I like change. Don't they say it is the only constant?

This is where I, Anita, will be blogging from now on. Manisha? A soon-to-be distant figure in the history of this blog. You can find her over there even though I think you should stick around here, which is where things will be happening!

Since I am very tech-challenged, I am going to leave the template well alone for now...First things first. So, first let me try to put 'food' back into Indian Food Rocks. That's what I am good at: simple recipes you can use everyday. No posts without recipes!

Next, I will fix the 'Indian' part. Authentic, traditional, genuine Indian. No fusion, no blasphemous stuff, no short cuts...The change from tradition will be restricted to lower fat cooking, so we can continue to eat healthier. So, no swimming-in-oil recipes. [I do have to work with Blogger though; oh! how I miss the emoticons!]



Let's get the conversation going; put on some tea! And get your aprons out - there's going to be lots of cooking here!

Conversations: The Real Meaning

So every once in a while, my husband likes to surf youtube for snippets from the ultimate Bollywood hit of the 70s, Sholay. He does have it on DVD but youtube must be more convenient since the DVD only seems to be gathering dust. Hmmph! Anyway, he knows the dialogs backwards and can recite them in his sleep, if he has to.

A few days ago, he felt the need to go down memory lane and watch Helen shake her stuff to the most famous song of all times:



Medha watched in stunned silence. Once the song was over and she had regained her composure, she asked her father: Daddy, now tell me the real meaning of Mehbooba.

The Last Bastion

Yeow.

That stinks.

What's that green stuff? It's disgusting.

What's cauliflower? Why is it yellow? That's just gross.

That has been the general response in the Finer Diner, the lunch cafeteria at school, when Medha opens her lunch box.

The disgusting green stuff is usually cilantro chutney or baby spinach. The result? She stopped taking chutney-cheese sandwiches – which she simply adores – for lunch. The stinky stuff? It could be cheese ravioli in delicious organic pasta sauce. Or it might be spicy red lentils. Yeow? For macaroni and cheese with a good dose of ketchup. And, yes, some kids don't know what cauliflower is. Being ostracized in the cafeteria, or having your peers tell you that your food is disgusting, is not the best place to be for a 3rd and 4th grader. Especially for one to whom retorts come much after the fact.

Soon, all she would take for lunch was a PBJ sandwich or a bologna sandwich or sandwiches with deli meats like smoked turkey, chicken or honey ham. The high sodium content in the meats bothers me as well as the fact that they are highly processed. PBJ, after a while, does get boring. Lunch boxes like these won't do either as we need the food to slide down the throat after having gone through minimal chewing action. Several times a month, I try to sneak in some Indian or spicy food in her thermos and the conversation later that evening is always the same diplomatic exchange: It was really good, Mumma! But it is more suited for dinner, don't you think?

The only Indian food that she will take willingly in her thermos is sans asafetida, turmeric, ginger or garlic. Yup, potatoes. Yup, Til Aloo. I call it the last bastion of Indian food in her hot lunch menu. It's very easy to make, does not stink, is not green or yellow in color and is not cauliflower. She takes a plain butter sandwich along with it.

Til Aloo

• 5-6 large red potatoes, boiled and cooled well
• 3 tbsp oil
• 1 tsp mustard seeds
• 1 tsp cumin seeds
• 1 tbsp sesame seeds
• 2-4 dried red chillies, broken into two pieces each
• Salt to taste
• Juice of half a lemon, more if you like it tangy

1. Dice the potatoes as evenly as possible into 1 inch pieces.
2. Heat the oil and add mustard seeds, cumin seeds, sesame seeds and red chillies.
3. When the seeds pop and crackle, add the potatoes and salt.
4. Mix well so that every cube of potato is coated with the tempered oil.
5. Cook over medium heat till the potatoes are crispy and have browned slightly. Mix in a folding action occasionally so that the potatoes don’t get scorched or burn.
6. Pour the lemon juice, mix well and serve immediately.

Notes:

• Til Aloo goes really well with Malaysian parathas which can be found in the freezer section of most ethnic grocery stores.
• The original recipe, from Jyotsna, requires the potatoes to be ¾ cooked. Sometimes the potatoes are just too new and once they have been partly cooked, they don't cook completely thereafter. It works better for me if I boil the potatoes the day before or several hours earlier. When cooled, they are easier to handle and dice into a uniform size.
• When I make this for a dinner party, I prefer to reheat the potatoes in a skillet to revive the crispiness and I add the lemon juice just before serving. Reheating in the microwave or oven is easier but you lose the pleasure of biting into those crispy bits of potato.
• The til aloo in the picture looks yellow because the potatoes were that color. No turmeric powder was harmed in the making of these potatoes.

We were discussing ethnic foods in lunch boxes with a friend earlier this week. Her daughter has it much easier this year than in previous years as there is a more international mix of children in her grade. Apparently, her Russian friend has had worse problems than she did. Now these girls make an announcement before they open their lunch boxes: I have Indian or Russian or Korean food in my lunch box. I think it is delicious and I like it. I am hoping that Medha will be able to muster the courage to do something similar. Until then, it's sandwiches that slide down the throat...

Other versions of Til Aloo that use the unmentionable ingredients that I cannot, but which make the potatoes very delicious, can be found here:
Ashwini's Ancient Spice - Til Aloo (and it looks like there are several copycats who have not credited Ashwini as the source for their recipe!)
Aloo and Til Subzi on Bawarchi

Stay a While, Won't You?

I know I've been gone a while and you want to know what I have been up to. Life has been brimming with excitement, as always. But, hang on. Let me put the kettle on, first. There! So much better!


But, what's the hurry...

A good cup of tea must be shared between friends, no? Let me get the teapot ready because I hear the tea kettle whistling.

Steaming - my entry as a judge for Click - Metal.

Get on with it, you say? In a minute! Let me pour the hot water into the teapot first.



Ah! Much better. Now sit back and enjoy that cup of tea and tell me which of the three pictures you like best. As usual, I can't make up my mind about which picture to send to Click. Not that it matters because I am a judge for the March event. But it's always nice to get your opinion. Me? I like them all but I do lean most towards the third one for many reasons. I love the little swirl of steam escaping from the spout, right under the whistle, and I also like to think that the picture represents me: ready to come back! So put your thinking caps on and let me know.

Update: The people has spake! #2 is it!