Dressing Up 'Food That's Good For You'

Did you have to be bribed with idli and sandwich smileys when you were younger so that some nutrition could be forced into you? What are those, you ask? Oh, you know, that's when you put pea eyes, tomato mouth and carrot nose on a nice, white dumpling to get the tiresome kid to eat a sensible breakfast, never mind that YOU're losing all YOUR nutrients in the process!

I often have this problem with The Spouse who is rather opposed to "food that's good for you". However much I dress them up, most vegetables stay firmly away from his plate, unless they're served to him in other people's houses - I recently saw him gush over yam, chunks of it, in tamarind gravy at his aunt's place, something I'm willing to bet he wouldn't even recognise at ours. And there's no point talking about brown rice, he will simply "perish the thought!" The only reason he tasted my tomato upma, I suspect, was because it was on his aunt's table and that huge plank of wood must have added to its appeal. I have almost given up making him give up on ghee supplied by some fond and rustic relatives, rice and ghee added to senaga karam (chana dal powder) supplied on request by his fond and urban mother-in-law, rice and ghee added to red chilli pickle supplied by loving aunts and cousins and sundry goodies supplied by ourselves. But the thought of being defeated - and the amount of waste all those leftover supplies make for - make me keep trying.

A while ago, I bought a small packet of something called 'low-carb' rice. It looked normal enough but when I finally cut it open, I realised I'd been looking at the wrong side of the pack - there WAS a transparent patch at the back and it was very distinctly light brown.

Now, had he not seen me open it and pour it out into the pressure cooker, he may have eaten it - but I think the sequence of events was that he did, made a face several times and sulked but ungraciously conceded he would try it because "it doesn't seem to be like the usual brown rice I know you don't like" (said in a loud and earnest tone). Unfortunately, the pack instructions failed me - and it was hard and remained brown. He may well have gone to bed angry and hungry, I really don't remember.

I couldn't eat it either. (I was never very good at self-flagellation.)

It stayed in the fridge for a few days till I began to suspect something was wrong with it because it wasn't going bad. So I dumped it.

Then came about some circumstances where, for over a week, we were eating at someone's place everyday and I too began to contribute to those meals. As it was a hectic and difficult phase, I could not even shop for supplies but had to make do with what was available at home. For once, I had had potatoes, some carrots were withering in the fridge as usual and I had just exhausted my supply of peas. I didn't know if I had run out of Basmati and I didn't want to find out. Some black chickpeas were turning to speckly white dust in their container.

Some of our meal companions wouldn't eat onion and garlic, it had to be quite a big amount (to serve about a dozen people) and it needed to be something I could make swiftly so that once I woke up the next day and finished with it, I could try to snooze again, find time for Yoga, social networking and lunch before I set off for work. Not to mention having a bath, of course!



One of the cookbooks I love is Tarla Dalal's Gujarati cookbook. I haven't made all that much from it but I love to flip through it and look at the pictures. It's seen me through many a sleepless night. So I chose the Vagharelo Bhaat which seemed pretty swift and straightforward.

I doubled the quantities and made my substitutions: Brown rice for Basmati, kala channa for green peas, and some oil added to the ghee. (Mine is organic, again bought to lure The Spouse away from what could be some hormone-ridden one.)

If he reads this, he will find out it was the brown rice he once so violently rejected, rendered so palatable by soaking, oodles of ghee, the potatoes, other bits and pieces, and, of course, the communal (as in 'community', not 'religion', lest you wonder) nature of the occasion.

Brown rice: 3 cups (soaked for at least 30 minutes, then washed delicately several times, and drained)
Potatoes, diced: 3 cups
Kala channa/black chickpeas: 1 cup, soaked overnite, cooked till soft
Carrots, diced: 1/2 cup
Cloves: 4
Cinnamon: 1-inch blade
Cumin seed/jeera: 1 tsp
Asafoetida/Hing: 1/2 tsp
Turmeric powder: 1 tsp
Chilli powder: 2 tsp
Garam masala: 1 tsp
Ghee: 5 tbsp
Oil: 1 tbsp
Hot water: 6 cups
In a large pot/pressure cooker, heat the ghee, add the cloves, cinnamon, cumin, asafoetida and fry for half a minute.

Add the vegetables and salt and stir for about four minutes.

Add the turmeric, chilli powder, garam masala and rice and stir again for five minutes till well and evenly mixed.

Add six cups of hot water, cover and simmer till the rice is cooked. If you're using a pressure cooker (like I did), put it on simmer for about five minutes after three whistles. It was perfect.

I did not hesitate to use so much ghee and oil because this meal was spread across many people and I'm hoping none of them ate more than their recommended allowance of fat and starch. A happy consequence was that I didn't have any charred and crusty residue at the bottom of the pressure cooker.

Rice Vegetarian Vegetables Potatoes Humour

Couscous, And Some News

The appearance of some live forms of protein was no deterrent. It had cost good money, and it had to be used, so this was what I made with the last of my last batch of couscous.

I now have another batch of two big packets. It made its way here last January, a year and a month ago. I finally managed to inaugurate it last week. Along with that batch of couscous came a batch of other Mediterranean delights, which included sumac, thyme mix, zatar and orange flower water. I've used some of them on and off in the past year, the last is waiting to be opened. When that momentous occasion occurs, you, dear readers, will be the first to know.

Some chickpeas were waiting to be used up; so was a pack of commercial tomato puree. (I don't remember why I bought it, as I don't like it.) I thought I need to make a beginning on the couscous before it attracted life again, so out of the first 2 lb packet I had, I used half a cup.

I cooked this couscous by following the instructions on the other couscous packet, substituting plain water for stock, so I suggest you just follow the pack instructions if you make this dish. (Why didn't I do as I say? The pack I used didn't have instructions.) I had made savoury couscous just once before - it was bigger, and while the sauce used some of the same ingredients, the spices added to it made it very different so it was a new venture all over again for me.



Here's how you make the sauce:

Tomato puree: 200 ml (or just a little short of 1 cup)
Chickpeas/channa: 1 cup, soaked overnight, drained, washed, (pressure) cooked
Green thyme mix: 2-3 tbsp (Mine contains thyme, coriander, cumin, anise, fennel, sesame and salt)
Onion: 1, sliced
Garlic: 5 cloves, sliced
Olive Oil (EVOO): 1 tbsp
Salt*

Heat the olive oil gently.

Add the onion and garlic and sweat them lightly.

Now add the tomato puree and 2 tbsp of the spice mix.

Mix well, keep stirring till well mixed.

*Taste. The spice mix already contains salt so make sure the sauce isn't salty, or overpoweringly spicy.

Depending on this, add salt, and more of the spice mix if you like.

Add the chickpeas and let it cook on simmer till it absorbs the flavours.



Now, I have some news for you. As if work, reading, this blog, a year-round photo-a-day project, insomnia and other businesses aren't enough, I've volunteered to collaborate on a group blog, The Great Vega'N Vegetarian Project. The initiative of Cynthia at Tastes Like Home, this blog was born out of her realisation that much of the food we cook is naturally vegan and vegetarian, and often, unconsciously so. As most of the food that I cook routinely (and does not make it to this blog) falls into that category, I will write about it there.

I'm sending this couscous and the chickpeas off to Presto Pasta Nights hosted this week for Ruth by Mrs Ergul - Passion for Life and Food as well as My Legume Love Affair hosted for Susan by The Cripsy Cook.

Presto Pasta Nights Couscous chickpeas Vegan

A Liteness of Being

When Coffee announced MBP’s theme is Going Lite, several thoughts came to my mind: At last, I can finally buy the stuff but justify the expense as going towards a good cause and make that flourless cake with an expensive pound of ground almonds and orange and pass it off as a somewhat low-carb version; I can finally make use of the nice, thick, glass cake dish I just bought at a 30 per cent off sale; I can use the slowly rotting plums in my refrigerator to make a crumble using up some more of the sturdy oats in my larder …

Then I noticed some channa/chickpeas that were somewhere in the inner recesses of the shelf and I decided to take another shot at salad – I am usually disappointed with my own attempts as the dressing never seems to come together. My friend was coming to lunch so that was motivation enough. It gave me a chance to use up some vegetables from my cornucopious fridge as well. And that was the perfect excuse to boil up some wholewheat pasta and tomato-basil sauce and bake some garlicky potatoes and have ourselves a feast. And another new acquisition from the sale, a pudding bowl, could double up as a salad bowl! I do realize the meal went way past the Going Lite theme but that was lunch, not a theme party, so I suppose we can skip the guilt this time. I’m presenting just the genuinely lite dish here. MBP, here I come!

This salad is inspired by Kalyn’s Kitchen. I didn’t have/use many of the vegetables she mentioned, nor the lime juice, nor the carrot, so I used some dill-chilli vinegar, red pepper and zucchini instead. I wasn’t able to print Kalyn’s recipe, so I just worked from memory and this is what I came up with:

Dry channa/chickpeas/garbanzo: 2 cups, soaked overnight and cooked
Zucchini – Half of a big one, diced small
Red pepper – 2, cut into small pieces

Dressing:
Vinegar – 3 tbsp
Olive oil – 3 tbsp
Garlic – 5 cloves, minced as fine as possible
Cumin/jeera powder – 1 tsp
Chilli powder – ½ tsp
Salt, to taste

Steep garlic and the other spices in a mixture of vinegar and oil for some time.

Put all the vegetables in a salad bowl, add dressing, mix, let chill in the refrigerator.

It wasn’t too bad for me, my friend loved it and praise be to God, it didn’t last beyond a day in my refrigerator because I had the brains to take it to work, where my colleagues too liked it. I’m hoping you will, too!

Monthly Blog Patrolling Channa/Chickpeas/Garbanzo Vegetarian Salad

Culinary Crossover

Tagine and couscous are as native to Morocco as lime pickle and channa masala are to India. What happens when these two come together with nothing but the intention of finishing some of the stuff in the pantry in as authentic (!) a manner as possible? It’s a glorious mess when you discover it’s easier to depend on hazy memories of the recipe rather than spend some time searching for the book on Moroccan cuisine. After all, it’s your only time off in the week, don’t you just have to get on with it, give it a snappy headline and put it on the blog too? And it can't be any worse than Pepper Paneer Pasta, can it, though deconstructing it leads you to cream, cheese and pasta, which is what go into pasta all the time!

I’m sure there’s a tagine with chick peas, though my book seems to have a chicken tagine which called for some slices of pickled lemon, the vinegary kind. And channa masala calls for a souring agent. When time is precious on a Sunday morning which you would rather spend vegetating on the couch than soaking tamarind for extract, and in the absence of an instant one such as amchur/dried mango powder, lime pickle comes in handy. I put things together willy-nilly and the result was a not-very-strange but not-very-traditional gravy.

The lime pickle I used is a traditional Andhra recipe but as haphazard was the operative note, I used three teaspoons of it in the tagine masala - now how’s that for a crossover name? It was hot, naturally, but definitely tamed by the onions, tomatoes and ginger-garlic paste that kept it company.

Here’s the recipe:

Couscous - 1 cup
Channa/chickpeas/garbanzo beans - 1 cup, soaked overnight if you’re using the dry ones
Onions - 3, chopped
Tomatoes - 3, chopped
Green chillies - 2, slit
Ginger-garlic paste - 1 tbsp
Garam masala/Curry powder - 1 tbsp
Cumin seed/Jeera - ½ tsp
Turmeric - ½ tsp
Salt, to taste
Lime pickle - 3 tsp, with pieces
Oil - 2 tsp
Coriander, for garnish

Boil the chickpeas or pressure cook them till soft.

Heat the oil, add the cumin seed.

Now fry the onions till they become transparent.

Add the green chillies, saute.

Now add the ginger-garlic paste. Mix well, fry a while.

Add the turmeric, salt, curry powder and mix really well.

Now add the tomatoes, mix well, cook on simmer, covered, till mushy.

At this stage, the gravy will begin to talk to you. If it needs more water, give it some.

Add the chickpeas and the lime pickle.

Mix well, check the consistency of the gravy and add more water if you want to thin it down. Let it simmer for 3-5 minutes.

Check for taste, turn off the heat. Garnish with coriander.

Bring five cups of water to the boil, add a pinch of salt, add couscous and cook for 7-9 minutes. Drain.

I prefer to serve the couscous and the gravy separately so that whoever’s eating can decide the proportions for themselves.

I'm sending this off to Presto Pasta Nights hosted by Ruth at Once Upon a Feast

I've also joined The Foodie Blog Roll. You can find it in my sidebar, details when you click on it!

Presto Pasta Nights Couscous Lime pickle Chickpeas