Bendi-t Like This!

In our house, trash doesn't go only into the dustbin. It goes into our refrigerator too, only to be discarded after weeks and months of making a home there. But I've been getting better at waste management lately. The zillions of sauce sachets we've collected over the last year with deliveries of pizza and fried chicken went into some home-assembled pizza, and the jackfruit seeds I saved, intending to roast in the oven, went into some 'bendi'. Within just 10 days of our having consumed their flesh.

I am so proud of myself.

I am lucky enough to own a book, now rarely found, called Green Leafy Vegetables, by Shyamala Kallianpur. Yesterday, after buying some amaranth (thotakura) and Malabar spinach (bachalikura), I leafed through her book to look for something other than dal to make. And sure enough, my eye fell on this Amaranth and Jackfruit Bendi, which is described as a dish native to the Dakshina Kannada region of Karnataka. Some not-so-intensive searching on the Internet gives me the information that Bendi is so called when it is tempered with garlic.

The other stashed away leftovers I used to make this curry were half a small carton of coconut milk and a cup of grated and frozen coconut. More importantly, I didn't have to buy anything new to use up the old supplies I had. The amaranth, of course, was happy coincidence.

The recipe is from the book. My addition was the coconut milk.

Amaranth/thotakura, chopped along with tender stems: 4 cups
Jackfruit seeds: 16
Water: Some
Salt, to taste

Grind to a paste

Grated coconut: 1/2 cup
Coconut milk: 1/2-3/4 cup
Red chillies, dry-roasted: 8-10
Tamarind: Large lime-sized
Coriander powder: 1.5 tsp (The recipe suggested 1 tsp of coriander seeds sauteed in a few drops of oil)

Tempering

Oil: 1 tsp
Garlic, crushed roughly: 8 cloves

Remove the outer skin of the jackfruit seeds and soak them in warm water two hours ahead.

Pressure cook the jackfruit seeds with water for 10 minutes. I used fresh water, not the water in which they were soaked.

Put the seeds along with the water in which they were cooked into a large pan. Add the amaranth and some salt, along with some water, and bring to a boil.

Now reduce the flame. Cover and cook till the greens are tender, about 5 minutes.

Add the ground paste, bring to a boil and temper with the garlic fried in the oil.

Cover immediately to retain the aroma. Of course, this doesn't apply if you're a food blogger - at this point, you pour it into a pretty dish, wipe the splashes, lick your fingers and start the photography session.

Amaranth/Thotakura Jackfruit seed Garlic Bendi Humour Using up leftovers

Toughtan? Taftan.

Some old flour, a much, much older oven that clung to me, refusing to be given away, some yeast bought expressly for this purpose, a casual remark about how we made this only once and ages ago at that - these were the elements that combined to have me make the Taftan. It was a tough enterprise - though I didn't do most of the kneading by myself, the little that I did pained me, and the end result, while edible, wasn't desirable.

Most of you don't know, because I have mostly forgotten myself, that I used to be an acknowledged baker. In my own right, of course. I can't even say my repertoire was limited, because what I baked didn't extend to any breadth that can qualify to call itself a repertoire, but I achieved some success with brownies which my cousins would request me to make repeatedly, the summer/s they visited. We didn't have an oven at home those days but my dad repaired an old one that used to belong to his sister and I launched into cooking, with baking. I made a savarin, some crumbly cakes, some souffles, and then I went on to post-post-graduation and my experiments took a break.

When I became the chief cook in a kitchen a few years later, The Spouse and I went shopping for an oven, one of my dream buys. I then made some more cakes, some more puddings, some kababs and Taftan. It was quite a long time ago so I don't remember how it turned out, but I don't remember it becoming crisp, like it did this time.

Then I stopped baking such stuff but managed to use the oven for the odd baked potato. I even sent it away recently because it was taking up too space in my small kitchen in my once new but now not-so-new home. For various reasons, I brought it back recently, and am I glad I wasn't able to give it away!

Despite the middling result of the tough experiment, I decided to post it all the same hoping you can tell me what went wrong with it. The recipe is taken from Rotis and Naans of India by Purobi Babbar. The recipe was for eight taftaans, I halved the amounts and made four.

Plain flour/maida - 2 cups
Dry yeast - 2 tbsp
Plain curds/yoghurt - 1 tbsp
Sugar - 1.5 tsp
Salt - 1 tsp
Nigella/Kalonji - 1 tbsp
Milk - 1/4 cup + 1 tbsp
Some ghee

Sprinkle yeast and sugar over warm milk until it starts to froth.

Sift flour in a bowl with salt. Make a well in the centre and post the yeast mixture with curd and 1 tbsp of ghee. Mix well.

Knead well for 15 minutes until the dough is smooth and elastic. Rub oil in a warm large bowl. Place the dough, cover and leave it to swell for 6-8 hours.

Knead the dough again. Divide into four equal portions and shape into balls. Keep aside again for 20 minutes.

Pat the dough into a circle in your palm, keeping them think in the centre and thicker around the rim. Now pull one side to give the naan the shape of a tear drop.

Brush the top with melted ghee and sprinkle the nigella. Place them in a baking tray.

Bake in a pre-heated oven (190 C/375 F) for 2-4 minutes until brown specks appear.

My experience:

It took much longer than 2-4 minutes, maybe 10 or more minutes per batch of two.

It was crisp outside, and the inside was not well done - it was moist/sticky.

AND THE NIGELLA SEEDS GAVE OFF COLOUR AND SMUDGED THE NAANS WHEN I SMOOTHED THEM ON TO THE NAANS BEFORE I POPPED THEM IN THE OVEN!!! Yes, I'm shouting.

This goes to Think Spice Think Nigella/Kalonji, the event started by Sunita and hosted by Dee this month.

Think Spice Think Nigella Kalonji Taftan Nostalgia

A Time For Rediscovery

By some strange and interesting twist of fate, the year so far has been full of getting in touch with old friends and classmates. One of them left a comment on my other blog last summer. I don't subscribe to comments by e-mail as I find that the comments come into my Inbox only after I've read them on the blog, and as that blog is dormant, I've missed the two or three comments that have been left there since I last checked, which is probably well over a year ago. I only noticed them last month. Another friend, whom I've known since I was four or five, and who I'm in touch with occasionally but haven't seen in some 13 years, came and stayed with me last weekend.

It's fun to see what these old friends are like now, as adults, professionals, householders. It is a fascinating journey of discovery and rediscovery. As is the recipe that's being featured here today - drumsticks in a milk gravy.

I rarely cook with drumsticks as The Spouse doesn't like them and I don't care to eat the leftovers for days on end but when these came from home, so fresh and tender and unblemished, I couldn't bring myself to give them away. I had been thinking of making this curry for a while so I guess it was a matter of things falling into place by themselves as I discovered a bit of leftover gram flour (besan/senagapindi) in my kitchen and I had everything else necessary on hand.

I also had a Telugu cookbook to guide me but I find that the editing leaves a lot to be desired. My pet peeve with this class of cookbooks, often expressed in these posts, is that items in the recipe make a sudden appearance or disappearance, and very often, we just have to make the most of it. So the cookbook shall go unnamed but here's how I made it.

Drumsticks/mulakkaya: 4, cut into 2-inch pieces

Besan/Gram Flour/Senaga pindi: 1 tsp

Mixed well with

Milk, boiled, cooled: Approx 1.5 cups

Onions: 2, chopped
Green chilli: 2-3
Red chilli powder: 1/2-1 tsp
Salt: To taste
Turmeric: A pinch
Oil: 2 tsp

Tempering

Dry red chillies: 2-3, broken into bits
Mustard seed: 1 tsp
Curry leaf: A sprig
Urad dal/Black gram, hulled: 1 tsp



Heat the oil in a pan and temper with the ingredients listed under 'Tempering'..

Add the onions, green chillies and saute well.

Now add the drumsticks, mix well and season with salt, turmeric, chilli powder and cook covered till the vegetables are soft.

Reduce the heat to the lowest and add the milk-besan mixture to the curry. Mix gently.

Simmer till the mixture thickens a little and remove from fire. It's usually eaten with rice. I ate it for four glorious days, for once not feeling the burden of its leftoverness.

Drumstick/Mulakkaya Paaluposina Koora Vegetarian Rediscovery Musings

Puns Use Key Words

Puns. The lowest kind of wit or more picturesque speech? As you know, I believe they are the latter. Susan recently pointed me in the direction of an NYT article on puns which I'd like to share with you.

The inglorious pun! Dryden called it the “lowest and most groveling kind of wit.” To Ambrose Bierce it was a “form of wit to which wise men stoop and fools aspire.” Universal experience confirms the adage that puns don’t make us laugh, but groan. It is said that Caligula ordered an actor to be roasted alive for a bad pun. (Some believe he was inclined to extremes.)


Addison defined the pun as a “conceit arising from the use of two words that agree in the sound, but differ in the sense.” “Energizer Bunny Arrested! Charged with Battery.” No laugh? Q.E.D. Puns are the feeblest species of humor because they are ephemeral: whatever comic force they possess never outlasts the split second it takes to resolve the semantic confusion. Most resemble mathematical formulas: clever, perhaps, but hardly occasion for knee-slapping. The worst smack of tawdriness, even indecency, which is why puns, like off-color jokes, are often followed by apologies. Odds are that a restaurant with a punning name — Snacks Fifth Avenue, General Custard’s Last Stand — hasn’t acquired its first Michelin star.

You can read the rest here. As Susan points out, "a pun's wit and entertainment is in the very groan that it produces."

My predilection for puns has me and my blog landing into a soup often (pun fully intended), if one were to go by the weird keywords or search phrases that I get. I've left off the usual risque ones so here are a pick of the past few days:

"I was just sitting there, eating my soup"

"Caterpillar in my soup"

"Can turnip greens be used in wedding soup"

"My love is alive summer begins"

"How we came alive"

Keywords Humour Slice of Life

This Ugadi, Full of Beans

There's not much of a story to this dish, except that I saw these beans shelled and packed in my store and they looked so nice and green and convenient that I had to buy them.

Naturally, I had no clue what to do with them as I often don't after buying something which I usually don't.

Are your eyes glazing over after that sentence? I don't blame you, I would be confused myself if I hadn't been the one writing it. But anyway, the clutter-free, waste-free side of my conscience kicked in and I asked the woman who helps me at home what could be done with them. She said we could make a curry of them with tomatoes, onions/shallots and brinjal/eggplant. And that's what I did though I didn't really think it would be a good bet. But it was, we enjoyed it thoroughly. And you can bet that me being me, I will look for a completely new recipe next time I see shelled and convenient beans and forget all about this!

Before I get to the recipe, however, Happy Ugadi! Here's an article I want you to read on the occasion:

We eat neem flowers mixed with jaggery on New Year’s day to remind us of the bitter and sweet flavours that co-exist in life,” declared Gundu Rao, one of my favourite ‘uncles’, as he tugged affectionately at my plait. “Come tomorrow and taste some!” Never having ever eaten neem flowers, I screwed up my face at the thought, quite relieved that in my family we had no such custom. The next day, I hid from him. His words, however, made a deep impact on me as a 10-year-old, and I never forgot them.

Tender flowers, jaggery freshly obtained from the harvest of sugarcane, nascent green mangoes, young tamarind pods, the very things that make up the Ugadi pachadi burst into existence in this season and herald the coming of spring. These ingredients, perishable, short-lived, combine year after year to create something eternal and deeply symbolic, the readiness of human beings to accept and ride out the ups and downs of life. It is also true that most events, even those of a terrible nature, do not recur in our lives and these flowers and fruit, newly come into existence, serve as a visual reminder that the crises and joys of yesteryears are transient too.

... the important truth that we cannot talk about food without stumbling against the harsh realities of the world. Hunger and thirst exist, people die of famine, starvation. The question of hunger is a very disturbing one. Why is it that there are some endowed with plenty to the point of disregard and waste while there are others who have to beg food everyday in order to survive?

Now here's the recipe:

Broad beans, shelled: 1-1.5 cups
Shallots: A handful, peeled
Tomatoes: 2-3
Round Brinjal/Eggplant: 2, cut into 4-5 pieces each
Oil: 1 tsp
Mustard seed: 1/2 tsp
Cumin/Jeera: 1/4 tsp
Turmeric: 1/2 tsp
Chilli powder: 1/2-1 tsp
Water: A cup
Salt: To taste

Cook or pressure cook the beans till just done.

In a pan, heat the oil, temper with the mustard and the cumin.

Now saute the shallots and once that's done, add the tomatoes. Add the turmeric and chilli powder and let the tomatoes cook for a while. Add some water to help them along.

Now add the brinjal and salt. Add the cooked beans. You could add more water here if you like. Let it stew until everything is cooked and thick. You can eat it with rice.

This is my entry to MLLA-9 being hosted this month by Laurie of Mediterranean Cooking in Alaska for Susan of The Well-Seasoned Cook

My Legume Love Affair Broad+Beans Vegetarian Curry Ugadi Humour

Goan Interlude

This past week, I was in Goa, mostly on work. For the most part, I was confined to the hotel and its surroundings so there aren't too many photos. The real treat came at the end of the week when I spent a day with Aparna and she treated me to some delicious food from her diverse kitchen. Too bad there aren't any pictures of that - I was too busy wolfing it all down and revelling in really homely cooking that wasn't my own!


This was in the shop outside my hotel! Who would you trust - God or (Wo)Man? :-)


The road as it progressed outside my hotel. I went for a long, long walk and took these pictures.


Lanes on the road kept turning off and ending at points from where I could see the Fishermen's Wharf. This is one of those.


A jackfruit tree in one of the hotels on that road - there were so many trees all over the place with tonnes of jackfruit.


The Fishermen's Wharf, from another point off that road. It was a hot and humid evening but that was only to be expected. That didn't spoil my enjoyment.


En route to Margao in lazy bus on lazy morning. Not for these schoolchildren, though!

Goa Travel Musings

Attaining My Sugar High

I'm due to go to the land of feni and other freely available alcoholic delights shortly, and I've had a couple of requests to ferry some goodies back to this land of not-so-much variety. I'm not worried about fulfilling at least one of the requests, because a small sample from an earlier trip to the same land is still in my pantry. Two years later. Which I had a niggling suspicion of once the request was made. And confirmed happily a few hours later.

The friend for whom I'd originally brought it is rarely in touch now and I would hate to disappoint the current friend who made this request so it shall go to her. I was relating this whole episode to another friend and she said, "I like the way you keep finding things in your pantry from two years ago! It must be a veritable treasure trove." Well, I often think it's more a liability and a sign of management failure but this item is going to have a happy ending for sure!

The flip side of Treasure Trove is Bottomless Pit, and despite some periodic and concerted cleaning, I still end up with a lot of stuff. Anyway, I've said all this before on this blog, and found out that I have a lot in common with many among you, dear readers, but there was one item that I intended using up soon.

Soon came after a couple of years.

It was a packet of couscous that I had forked out a lot for at an organic store so I didn't really mind the couple of insects that revealed themselves by rising to the top once I finished boiling it; I just skimmed them away telling myself that they were too flimsy for me to feel any disgust. There was much more left over than I had estimated, and it was much more than we could reasonably eat without feeling we'd never want to eat couscous again. Not with two more fresher, recent packs of it in the fridge.

Finally, the lion's share of the remnants went into this dessert. It really was a brainwave, even if I may say so myself, and we just have half a cup of cooked couscous to use up - maybe I'll just toss it into some rice or gravy tomorrow but for now, I've come up with a strange but tasty mixture of that hoary old dessert: pudding/payasam.

This is going off to Scrumptious who's hosting Sugar High Friday this month. The theme is The Test of Time which endeavours to display ancient recipes.

Kheer (Sanskrit: क्षीर/ksheera, Hindi :खीर, Urdu: کھیر/kheer) a traditional dessert in the Indian subcontinent, usually a rice pudding made by boiling rice with milk and sugar. It is often flavored with cardamoms, saffron, pistachios or almonds that have been soaked overnight and made into fine paste. Kheers are also made with grains other than rice, and barley kheer is a common variant in Northern India and Pakistan.

It is an essential dish in many Hindu and Muslim feasts and celebrations. While the dish is most often made with rice, it can also be made with other ingredients such as vermicelli (sayviah). The recipe for the popular English rice pudding is alleged to be descended from kheer, but this would be hard to prove, since similar rice recipes (originally called potages) go back to some of the earliest written recipes in English history (when there was practically no contact between England and South Asia).

For more information, go here.

The traditional payasam in India is commonly made with milk, sugar/jaggery and rice, vermicelli or sago. I used couscous instead. Also, instead of flavouring it with cardamom powder, I used a spoon of vanilla essence and a big stick of cinnamon, partly for a Western taste and also as I suspected that the couscous would absorb the milk rapidly and solidify into a puddingy mass, but that didn't happen.

Here's how you do this:

Cooked couscous, not small: 3-4 fistfuls
Milk: 750 ml - 1 litre
Sugar: 3-4 fistfuls
Cinnamon: 2-inch piece
Vanilla essence: 1 tsp
Ghee: 2 tsp
Cashews/raisins: A fistful of each

Boil the milk and turn off the heat.

Add sugar, stir until dissolved. Add the cinnamon too now.

Now add the couscous and heat on simmer till the milk reduces. (I must say I used too much milk and even reducing it wouldn't bring it even close to pudding consistency.)

While this is going on, fry the nuts and raisins in the ghee and keep them aside.

Once you give up on the consistency, turn the pudding off heat, remove the cinnamon, cool a while and add the nuts and raisins.

You can eat it warm and liquidy or you can chill it for a day and eat a slightly thickened version the next day. I, of course, ate both!

Sugar High Friday Couscous Payasam Humour Leftovers Dessert

Eggs, Forgotten & Recreated + Keyword Humour

I know I promised to make my search terms a regular feature and I'm going to stick by it. But before I list the most hilarious search times since the last such post, I have a "peculiar egg curry" for you (yeah, that was a search term I just saw in my stats.)

I keep talking of how I always ignore recipes that are very familiar and traditional family favourites in quest of the unfamiliar and the exotic. Sometimes the presence of the former on someone else's table really jolts your memory, and this recipe is one such. It's a very Indian, very my-home style recipe that I've quite forgotten - I saw this at an aunt's a few months ago and recreated it at home from imagination - not that there was much to imagine or take credit for, but it was very much like what my grandmom made.

Eggs: 4
Onions: Chopped, 1/2 cup
Cinnamon: A finger-sized piece
Cloves: 2-3
Curry leaves: 1/2 a fistful
Coriander leaves: 1/4 cup
Garam masala/curry powder: 1/2 a tsp
Turmeric: 1/2 tsp
Salt: To taste
Red chilli powder: 1/2-1 tsp
Oil: 1-2 tsp

Break the eggs into a deep bowl. Beat them well with the turmeric, salt and chilli powder.

In a pan, heat the oil and add the whole spices.

As soon as they sizzle, add the onion and curry leaves and saute.

On low heat, add the beaten eggs and as soon as they show signs of setting, scramble them well.

When they are cooked, add the garam masala powder and scramble them again to make sure it's evenly distributed.

Garnish with coriander leaves or mix them into the scrambled egg. Tastes especially nice with spicy pepper charu/rasam. I like to eat it with curds/yoghurt, as gag-inducing as that sounds.

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Now for the search terms; the 'fingering' and 'Malayali chechi' are old hat, they always pop up so I won't highlight any unless there's something really strange, but have a look at the rest!

"What happened to the guy who ate ten pounds of powdered food for dinner?"

"Puke babes" (like there's a variety!!!! It also sounds like the name of a particularly rebellious girl band!)

"Inscribings on mementos"

"What does it mean when your cabbage is turning purple?"

Eggs Scrambled Search terms Humour

Keywords

Singapore: Sights & Smells

We went to Singapore two weeks ago. We checked in and promptly fell asleep. When we woke up, it was 2 pm, and by the time we freshened up and went out looking for lunch, it was 3 pm. We discovered a small food court near our hotel. One counter was managed by two friendly women. They had various dishes and rice, and a heaping of five curries with rice cost us S$ 5. There was fish cake, fried tofu, greens, fried fish and several others, including a vegetarian gravy that had cauliflower in it. The rice was flavoursome too. An extra helping of the accompaniments a few minutes later cost us S$2. I really enjoyed that meal, though The Spouse said he could not take the smell anymore.


One of the vegetable stalls we saw at a local market.


We went on a bum boat ride and took some pictures of Singapore by night.



My S$20 salad of shrimp satay, mangoes, glass noodles and pommelo with tender ginger dressing at the Singapore Botanical Gardens. The stated price was S$17 but the taxes added up.


S$5 Lunch at an Indonesian restaurant somewhere in a mall on Orchard Road. This was a dish of crispy fried prawns, rice, a fiery sambal with tiny dry fish, basil and what I thought was fried roe.


There were several restaurants offering froggy delicacies. I had just had lunch so I didn't have to contend with the thought of whether I would have tried them or not.


We found this Grass Jelly Drink in another food court. It's one of the classic drinks of South-East Asia, we couldn't get through this, and this was supposed to be the smaller serving which came for 0.80 cents. We found it somewhat smelly though I enjoyed targeting the jelly with my straw and slurping it in.


We were walking to Chinatown and I noticed these on the pavement, pineapple and durian.


Our first tour when we landed in Singapore was a Singapore by Night Tour. Our first destination, at 6 pm, turned out to be dinner!!! Having eaten at 3 pm earlier, we weren't very hungry, and that was true of most other tourists in our bus. So we nibbled at most of the offerings. The dinner, representative of the various ethnic cuisines of Singapore, served up a single claw of Singapore Chilli Crab and Roti Prata.


Paper-wrapped chicken, at our dinner


Paper-wrapped chicken unwrapped. That's a bit of chicken and a mushroom


Pork spare rib soup, flavoured with what I thought was star anise. Nice.


Fried rice, with crab meat. I don't know what the cripsy, thread-y stuff on top is.


A vegetarian dish of cabbage. I could even taste saffron in that dish, but I could be wrong. It was very tasty.


The mango pudding that ended our dinner. The waitress asked us if we liked it and when we nodded, she excitedly said she had made it herself.

Singapore Food Sightseeing Travel

Bean There, Done That!

If it's epiphany one day, it's serendipity another. Want something so bad and the universe will conspire to give it to you? I don't know if such lofty ideals/statements can be applied to the smaller delights of life, and it's not as if I wanted this so bad that the entire universe had to get conspiring to give it to me but if it did, I'm happy.

The bane of living in big cities is that services and conveniences you get in small towns are hard to come by. (As are certain vegetables, foods and treats of other kinds, but that's a different story) Whenever I need some clothes altered, I can't give it to any tailor close by but have to go to this poky little shop in a poky little road that features a smelly, open drain to meet the "alterations specialist". It's a right task, hauling myself and my bundle of "alterations clothes" collected over the weeks, to his kiosk, but that day, it was doubly worth it because I noticed these broad beans, my absolute favourites and rarely to be found where I live, on a vegetable cart close by. I immediately bought half a kilo.


They were all the more a serendipitous find because just a few days ago, I had been looking for some ideas for Feta cheese, of which I possessed a small carton, and had come across recipes for a traditional Greek salad of broad beans and Feta.


This recipe is a synthesis of several recipes that I have in my cookbooks and on the Net. It's been a month since I've made it so treat the quantities with a pinch of salt. And if yours is the salty variety of Feta, like mine, don't bother to add any extra.

What you need:

Broad beans: 500 gm, shelled
Feta cheese: 200 gm (a cup), crumbled
Tomatoes: 4 medium-sized ones, quartered
Garlic cloves: 4-5, crushed
Mint: A fistful, chopped
Green olives (I didn't have any black): A few
Olive oil: 4 tbsp (I used EVOO as that's what I had)
Freshly ground black pepper
More mint for garnish

Shell the beans and boil them in a pan of water until just tender. Drain and set aside.

Heat the oil in a frying pan and add the tomatoes and garlic. Cook, stirring, until the tomatoes begin to change colour.

Add the feta cheese and toss for a minute. Remove from fire. Mix with the cooked beans, mint, olives and salt and pepper. Garnish with more mint.

Off this goes to Susan, to the eighth helping of My Legume Love Affair.

My Legume Love Affair Feta Salad Broad beans

Our Years of Togetherness

Ever since we unsettled down together, down these years of wedded not-always-bliss; in spite of moments together being cause for mourning rather than celebration; despite the truth in the statement that the best way to a man's heart is through his chest, we've made it so far ... Honey, thanks for the many you-know-whats-I-always-thank-you-for, no thanks for the things that you should do and don't, and may we have even more fun, togetherness and happiness forever. May my every word be your command and may you snap to attention and fulfil my wishes always.

I don't usually celebrate personal milestones on this blog but as it was my wedding anniversary recently, and Valentine's Day has a way of getting my goat, I thought I'd pull all this out of the mush and give those of you who need it a respite from all that hype, hoopla and marketing.

Now be nice and wish us good luck!

Anniversary Wishes Valentine's Day Humour

What Brought You Here?

From time to time, I look at the 'keywords' that have visitors landing in my blog and never cease to be baffled by the permutations and combinations that operate in the rather mysterious innards of the Internet. Goodness knows what the poor surfer was looking for when s/he looked for 'Desi Bullock' pictures but amid the Sandra Bullocks and other 'desi' references, nestled a search result mentioning my blog. Whoever was looking was not an idle surfer, I guess.

Then, someone who presumably wanted to know about the goodness of 'coconut oil for fingering blogspot' also made their way to my blog, again a second page result amidst more exciting ones. Guess s/he WAS looking for (or not entirely disinterested in) culinary advice.

It must have been an ornithologically-minded person who typed in 'What Do Crows Eat' and happened on this post. S/he must have been quite keen on the research, because I have tired of clicking on 'Next' after some six pages of results to see how fast the blog came up.

'What happened after dinner?' could have been a teaser for a murder mystery or a romance, but whoever wanted to know visited my blog too. Hopefully, they've learnt some useful lessons.

Someone who had 'too much tomato in my soup' was, in the sane order of things, probably bound to land in my blog, given its name and ingredients, but wouldn't have found any remedy. I'm a 'Slice-of-Life Chronicler', remember (heh heh!) and food is only a perspective, or an excuse, so those looking for tips and kitchen hints here may have been disappointed. Or may have stumbled on a great blog!

Beauty treatments are absent too, and so is health advice, as the seekers would have found when they asked 'Is kala chana powder good for my face' (I couldn't make out which page they landed on) or 'I enjoy curry but it makes me nauseous - what can I do to prevent this' and chanced upon this.

Oh yeah, blogging's fun alright! Yeah, I came alive when I came alive. That, dear readers, is also a 'keyword', though it is, in its unwittingly glorious pun-niness, a most evocative affirmation of how much I enjoy blogging.

On Blogging Humour Keywords Search Terms

Of Colours, Carrots & Chutneys

• A friend who's self-employed and has resolved not to stir out of the house till she finishes a project says lunch and a long conversation with me is the carrot spurring her to get on with it and finish it.



• I had a packet of carrots unusually refusing to rot even after a week in a plastic packet in the fridge.



• A discovery in recent years has been carrot chutney, made to perfection by Aunt, often recreated to imperfection by yours truly.

Now with so many carroty references and occurrences, why I could only think of papaya and pumpkin when FIC-Orange was announced I can only attribute to a moment of absent-mindedness (Aside: if it's absent, can there be a mind? Why does that sound like a smart thing to say?) but blog-hopping rescued me from much thought when I discovered people were sending in carroty concoctions to the event, created by Sunshinemom.

Take 2 cups of diced carrot, boil till not quite tender.

Grind it on the lowest speed in your mixer with

1. salt


2. some tempering/talimpu/tadka (2 tsp of mustard seeds; 3-4 tsp of fried black gram dal; 1-2 tsp of cumin/jeera; 3-4 cloves of skinned/crushed garlic; 3-4 slit green chillies; a few curry leaves, all fried in 2 tsp of oil) and


3. 3-4 pieces of soaked and softened tamarind

Check taste and texture and temper once again if it's not crunchy enough.

And when carrots are mentioned, can carats be far behind? Here's a quote attributed to American actress Mae West, who was also known for her quips:

“I never worry about diets. The only carrots that interest me are the number of
carats in a diamond.”

Here's another, by American humorist and social commentator Will Rogers:

"Some guy invented Vitamin A out of a carrot. I'll bet he can't invent a good
meal out of one."

(Well, this chutney's a good meal; just swirl it in some thick curds/yoghurt and you won't need anything else.)

Dreaming of carrots? Then prosperity and health is predicted; for a young woman to eat them denotes she will contract an early marriage and be the mother of several hardy children! Don't believe me, go here and find out for yourselves.

Food In Colour- Orange Carrot Chutney Event

Peas Be With You

The stars in this dish are round.


They are legumes, but not the main item in this dish. However, I believe they elevate a plain, somewhat smelly vegetable from being an ordinary stir-fry to a special one. I make this frequently, but I always enjoy it. I, therefore, submit it to the Seventh Edition of My Legume Love Affair.


In doing so, I am joining the ranks of bloggers who knowingly/unknowingly don't follow the rules of an event to a T.

I think I can even hear an (amused? but) exasperated sigh issuing from the host, and the super host. Just look at this photo, don't you think it's worth adding to the round-up?

But I'm kidding - most of the legumes are underneath, they don't show. You'll just have to take my word for it.

Cauliflower florets: 2-2.5 cups (small head of cauliflower)
Peas: 1-2 cups frozen/ fresh (boiled)
Tomatoes: 2, chopped
Oil: 1-2 tsp
Turmeric: 1/2 tsp
Cumin/jeera: 1/2 - 1 tsp
Red chilli powder: 1/2-1 tsp
Salt, to taste
Water: Keep it handy
Coriander leaves: Chopped, for garnish

Heat oil in a pan. Temper with the cumin. You can even add curry leaf here, if you like.

Add the tomatoes, fry them a bit.

Add the salt, turmeric and the red chilli powder. Fry well, cover. Add some water if you like.

When the tomatoes get nice and mushy, add the florets and mix well. Sprinkle some more water, cover and cook on low/medium flame till cooked. I like the florets to still have a little bite in them. After all, this dish is mostly texture.

Once the florets are ready, add the peas, mix well to make sure they are also coated with the spices. Wait a while, and remove from heat.

Garnish with the coriander, or just mix it up.

Also, as we've mentioned its glorious colour, this goes off to Sunshinemom's FIC-Yellow too.

With this humble submission, I humbly take your leave until the next post.

My Legume Love Affair Peas Cauliflower Event

On Blogging, Looks And Questions

Stirring the pot ...

• Would you be disappointed when you find out your blogger friend's looks do not match the image you conjured up of her? Would you say anything? Would you go off her blog? What is it about a blog that makes you think the blogger would be nothing less than hip and happening?
  
  
• I remember someone saying they didn’t know whether they’d like to meet other bloggers in the flesh, what if they didn’t really like each other? It is a valid fear, isn’t it? Would the real person be the same as the blog persona, and what would you do if she isn’t? Of course, all this is assuming you give blog friendships somewhat the same weightage that you give real-life friendships, otherwise we wouldn’t be discussing this at all.
  
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• This isn't related to looks or real-life encounters but blog etiquette. I often come across comments saying, "Sorry for the long comment." I've said it myself though I've not understood exactly why. Is it because a long comment is seen as trying to take over someone else's space, or is it based on more practical and technical considerations such as the amount of space available for a blog on a server/ a blogging platform? Would you welcome long comments? Why not?

On Blogging Questions Bloggers' looks Blog Etiquette

Comments Meeting other bloggers

Epiphany

It's not "I'd give anything to lose weight".
It's "I'd give up anything to lose weight."

Not that the truth in the statement hasn't occurred to me before, it just didn't arrange itself in such pithy terms.

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Mishap of the Week

Camera falls into jug of water when Sra tries to use jug as tripod.

Panicking, Sra is unable to fish it out so jug is taken to wash basin to let the water gush out, infusing camera with some more H20.

'Immediately' wiped with napkin. Then wiped some more and some more with increasingly damp napkin.

Friend present at venue suggests hair dryer.

Camera is opened, divested of battery and chip, fanned gently, cautiously, with hair dryer. Left to dry on dining table.

The Spouse/family will read about it here.

It seems to be fine, time will tell.

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Embarrassing Moment of the Week

Sra prepares to make rice for lunch.

Friend says she's not keen on rice, keen on eating "just the curries" like Sra.

Come lunchtime, Friend wonders if there's any bread. There is none. No bread, no rice. Sra has forgotten to order fried chicken as she has planned; gossiping with Friend is juicier.

Post-lunch, Sra brings a huge container to Friend, opens it and prepares to dole out some ariselu for dessert.

There are only two in huge tin.

Arise no 1 is bitten, un-whole (by Sra sometime ago, and unloved, has been shoved back inside for The Spouse to eat or to meet a dustbinny grave.)

Arise no 2 is also un-whole (same case as above, Sra suspects, though she doesn't remember too clearly).

Sra brings out a box of Belgian chocolates, gives illustrated sheet to Friend, grandly asks Friend to choose the flavour.

Friend opts for Dark Chocolate Heart With Truffle Filling And Coffee.

That too lies bitten.

(Yes, Friend did get dessert - there were other choices.)

Epiphanygram Epiphany Weight loss Humour Epigram

Looking Back, Looking Ahead

It's 11.30 p.m., and the madness to welcome the New Year has just begun. It's a cool night, and vehicles, noisier than ever, are whizzing past, much hooting, shrieking and whistling emanating from them. There's the ominous sound of a siren/alarm/ambulance. I am at home, after a feast of yesterday's leftovers with only some fresh omelettes, trying to make the most of the fading year with the dawn of the new one.

Blog-wise, it's been a great year. I met many bloggers, the latest being Raaga. We met earlier this month and talked about everything but food and blogging and it didn't feel like a first meeting at all. We spent about two hours together and it seemed to have vanished in a minute. I met Aparna, and earlier, a lot of bloggers from the city I live in and had a lot of fun. Blog friendships deepened and when a dear friend turned to blogging,our friendship of 19 years gained another dimension.

My blog underwent a makeover when Sandeepa designed the header you see here now. I even took a couple of unscheduled and unintended breaks from blogging, and ached to come back to it even though I didn't have much to say. I didn't think this piece would make it to this, but it has!

The posts I especially enjoyed writing and watching the reactions to are the ones on

Hostel food

The maximum convexity of my butt

My second anniversary

My magnetic attractions

Minding my pounds and quarts

Whether heritage comes cheap

Not unholy combinations

A proposed bloggers' meet

My not being a queer fish

Memories and mementos

I made an effort to rediscover some homely and traditional recipes. I also attempted recipe haiku and posted my first ever round-up, of the event I thought up and exasperated many of you with! That was on January 1, 2008 and as I write this, crackers around me are exploding to announce the new year. (I can't help but pat myself that I've choreographed the writing of this post perfectly, for whatever it's worth.)

Lifewise, much has been the same, though I travelled a bit - to Japan, to Karnataka with one group of girlfriends and to Calcutta with another, where much fun, mirth and getting-in-touch-with-the-inner-witch was had by all. "Life is not all about having fun," said a well-meaning friend to me once, trying not to sound stern. I suppose it's true, but one can always try to have as much fun as possible, can't they? Here's wishing you all a fun- and happiness- filled new year!

Best of 2008 Recap New year

The Past Week In Pictures

It's been a busy month and I had to go away again this past week. A rite of passage necessitated us going on a short trip, which is the fodder for this post.

Until I see you again, Season's Greetings and a Happy New Year!


The Gangireddu, one of the heralds of the harvest festival Sankranti, came home just as we were preparing to leave. This bullock is trained to do a variety of things: nod its head (affirming its master's praises of the people whose homes it visits), kneel, bow and dance to the tune of the nadaswaram. Money, old clothes and rice are donated.

Everyone started clicking, and his master expected as many contributions, not convinced when we told him it was all the same family, so many cameras and so many people springing up from all corners of the house!


Amaravathi, once a Buddhist centre, is on the banks of the Krishna in Guntur district of Andhra Pradesh. This huge Buddha was begun to be built for the Kalachakra some time ago. Remember the 'snakes' photo I put up a while ago? That was taken by Dad during Kalachakra. Amaravathi also houses a famous and ancient Siva temple which I have visited several times. It's the stuff of many school excursions (read close, convenient, inexpensive).


In the complex that houses the giant Buddha, this sight of a profusion of Buddhas greeted us at the rear, almost as if they had sprung up from the soil.


As we went down the steps to the bathing ghat, we saw this image lying in solitary splendour. Though broken, it seems to be worshipped regularly.


The Krishna river at Amaravathi.


Disembarking from a boat. The boats are also called launches. This is one of the less popular forms of transport nowadays - people use them to cross the river to get to villages on the other side of the Krishna.


Flowers at home. We often see these flowers growing wild or used to border large plots of land. Does anyone know what they are called?

Photos Travel Amaravathi Buddha Gangireddu

Biriyani Turns Over A New Leaf

Every year, when Id comes around, a friend of the family sends over biriyani and other festive delights for us to consume. He usually calls to tell us not to cook anything for the day as the amounts he sends are huge. One year, the call hadn't come yet, and Dad, who was eagerly looking forward to it, got antsy.

This friend is my grandfather's friend. My grandfather's name ended in Rao. "How about we give our friend a reminder?" Dad suggested. "We call him, chant 'Pulao, pulao, X X Rao, Pulao pulao X X Rao' and hang up?" Naturally, that led to a lot of giggles, but happily, the friend called soon after and we had ourselves a feast as usual.

That was a very involved biriyani which spared no effort, I'm sure, but this biriyani/pulao that I made the other day was chosen for its no-fuss method. The inspiration came from another recipe which I will post and acknowledge as soon as I make it, but the tweaking I did with the herbs and spices is all mine.

Chicken: 500 gm (Vegetarian can subsitute chicken with potatoes, peas and carrots)
Basmati Rice: 550 gm (note the volume)

Curry leaves: A handful (Read more about curry leaves here)
Crushed peppercorns: 1.5 tbsp
Thick coconut milk: 200 ml
Water: 1/2 cup + twice the volume of the rice
Coriander powder: 1.5 tbsp
Turmeric powder: 1/4 tsp
Powdered cinnamon and cloves: 1/2 tsp each


Cinnamon sticks: 3
Cloves: 4
Marathi moggu, crushed a bit: 3
Whole pepper: 1.5 tsp
Ghee/Oil/Mix of both: 75 ml/4 tbsp
Salt to taste


Soak the rice for 10 minutes and strain.

Wash the chicken and set aside.

In a heavy bottomed pan or pressure cooker, heat the fat and fry the cinnamon, cloves, Marathi moggu and pepper.

Add powdered cinnamon and cloves.

Add coriander and turmeric powders and fry again for a couple of seconds.

Add the curry leaves and the chicken pieces, sauté well. When the chicken changes colour, add salt and crushed peppercorns.

Add the coconut milk plus the 1/2 cup of water and cook the chicken for a couple of minutes.

Now add enough water (If the rice came to 3 cups, add 6 cups of water)and allow it to boil.



Add rice. Cook till done after sealing the lid. In a pressure cooker, let it cook for 5 minutes on simmer after two or three whistles.



One eater said it was alright, but that it didn't taste of anything in particular.

Another liked it, but that the whole pepper interfered with the eating. I liked it for that very reason. And the fragrance imparted by the spices boiling in the coconut milk - that was Joy of Discovery.

Yet another, bless his kind soul, said it was tasty, and served himself twice.

I made a raita to go with it but it wasn't really necessary - I've never really felt the need for any accompaniment to biriyani, though that's not to say I don't like them. I even believe it robs the biriyani of its taste. Have any of you felt this way?

As I believe curry leaves in biriyani are unusual, and this would make a great main dish for Christmas or any other festival/event where biriyani or pulao could be the main attraction, I am sending this off to Kalyn's Weekend Herb Blogging, organised and hosted by Haalo.

Weekend Herb Blogging Rice Biriyani/Pulao Chicken coconut+milk Non-vegetarian Humour

My Green Goddess

I hate to 'simply plop'a recipe without attempting some story or humour as I usually do, but there isn't any this time. And I don't seem to have the energy to contrive something, either. There are quite a few pictures of what I've made and cooked over the past couple of weeks but the way I feel now, they will all take a while seeing the light of day.

Various events over the past couple of weeks have kept me away from the blogs and I'm not too sure this is a definitive, regular return. However, it's been too long for me and I want to take small steps towards coming back before lethargy consumes me and a good hobby goes to pot for want of nothing. So here goes ...

As usual, this was born out of slowly wrinkling leftovers from my fridge. Someone who ate it said it was unusual, and I thought it was, too, till I ran a search, and of course, found several results for this combination.

Well, I will call it my Green Goddess and hope you enjoy it as much too!

Green Capsicum/Green bell pepper: 3, chopped small
Cabbage: 1-1/2 cups, shredded
Mustard seed: 1 tsp
Green chilli: 3, chopped
Cumin seed: 1/2 tsp
Urad dal/Black gram: 2 tsp
Salt: to taste
Oil: 1-2 tsp
Water: to sprinkle

In a frying pan, heat the oil and temper with the mustard, cumin and black gram.

Lower heat to minimum, add the capsicum, saute a minute.

Then add the cabbage, mix well, saute some more.

Add the salt, mix.

If you like, sprinkle some water and cover immediately. Simmer till it softens.

Make sure it doesn't brown or burn.

Capsicum/Bell pepper Cabbage Vegetarian Vegan