Updates and Such

     How have you been? It's been a crazy few weeks--food foraging (not really) in India, in search of Chinese food in Kolkata, hard drives crashing, losing photos in that crash, silent mental breakdowns with even quieter panic attacks...that's been me for a few weeks.
    Anyway, to start with the start, wanted to share a neat little blog with you. Click on it and enjoy the site: It's called A Taste of Savoie --the photos are amazing and so's the blog. Let me know what you think.
     On another note--last month and the beginning of this one, I was in New Delhi and Kolkata--and yes, all I did was eat.
A representative image would be this:

    And no, I didn't eat the girls. That's Dilli Haat. More on that in the next post. But yes, it was a colorful, beautiful, crazily busy, and a surprisingly fun (food) trip. And did I mention the food?

Anyway, it was more than a cappuccino, and yes, it was at The Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf. And fascinating because I am in a reverse-culture shock mode right now with all these Americanisms flourishing in India.






     Okay, back to food, and food that I enjoy. At Kolkata's Chinatown, thread chicken--basically, wonton skins-wrapped chicken--yum.

    And a favorite at South Ex New Delhi's most famous Bengali Sweet Market--the savory part, the best in the world, chole bhature (छोले भठूरे):

     And yes, we're not talking low-salt, nutritious, low-oil, non-fried, non-greasy food. But c'mon, how can you resist this? I go home just for that! Anyway, thought I'd give you a preview on what you'll see from my trip in the next few quite frequent posts: Chicken biryani, zarda, आर (aar) fish curry, Wenger's pineapple pastries, Keventer's milkshakes, Dilli Haat's food and dance shows...you get the picture.

     Finally, to end, don't know if you caught this, but there's my mug with my Masala Scrambled Eggs recipe on Good Bite.

    I'll be back soon, till then, hope your week's going great, and hope you're enjoying yourself--the snow, the sunshine, the fog...wherever you are!

Of Masalas and Boxes

Happy Turkey Day everybody!
     Though I'm sure turkeys aren't feeling the happiness right about now. It's one of those times when you wonder why you eat meat. Okay, maybe not you, I do. But one needs conflict, I guess. This one's mine, and I'm not judging. So, if you're making turkey, try organic. If you're into tofurkey, congratulations, and have fun. I'm making none of those. This day is mine--meaning, all I'll do is eat.
     Last week I had a small Indo-food demo/dinner for Marcie's friends. Very polite people, they said the right things--it's wonderful, it's great, yum. So, despite being suspicious, I'll say they enjoyed the dal, the butter chicken, shrimp, cauliflower, peas pulao and vermicelli pudding. I know, I should learn to say, thank you. I'm working on it, I am!
     Anyway, most of you should have these recipes, but email me if you don't.
An interesting thing happened at the Bunker Bash. More than the food, the group was fascinated with the masala box, the anjala potti as the South Indians call it. I have mine filled with North Indian spices:

And I do agree--the colors are fascinating, textures and smells even more so. For a daily cook/chef, it's easy to forget or get used to these interesting ingredients that make up Indian curries. जीरा Jeera, or cumin, is used whole (साबुत), or as powder. I use a lot of haldi (हल्दी), turmeric powder, chili powder, and garam masala (गरम मसाला) and ground coriander seeds or dhaniya (धनिया). In addition, others may have mustard seeds, coriander seeds, with sides of rasam or sambhar powder. Gujaratis use a lot of cumin-coriander powder where both of them are mixed together. My mother used to grind cinnamon, cloves and cardamom (C-cubed) into the Bengali fresh garam masala powder, that I do too these days. Yes, I'm turning into my mother, I admit.

     The questions that came with the curiosity about the anjala potti got me thinking--why do we use these spices, and why are they stored in such tiny containers? Scientifically, it does make sense though. In India, with the hot weather, spices can go bad easily, lose their flavor especially if you're storing them next to your stove. So, the bulk spices are kept elsewhere, preferably cold, and for each cooking round, you use this potti (it's not potty, so, grow up). In the olden golden days, turmeric was used (and still is), as an antiseptic, on wounds, and even before baths. I remember we applied fresh turmeric paste on our bodies when we were children, and then scrubbed it off before Saraswati Pujo, and waited impatiently for the priest to finish praying so we could stuff our faces with luchi-begun, fried pooris, and eggplant (recipe to follow in a bit). Ma used to check our palms and behind our ears--if the pale-yellow turmeric stain had seeped in, then we'd taken our shower. If there were remnants of turmeric paste, that meant lunch had to wait till we'd washed that off!

Now, back to my anjala potti--

     Turmeric is used in Indian cooking not only for medicinal purposes, but gives a fresh taste to vegetables. When mixed with chilies or chilli powder, it takes on a different tone. Green chilies has the active enzyme capsaicin, which activates receptors in the brain to allow the heart rate to increase, increasing the metabolism rate, which is what you want when you're eating a ton of food. Chilli powder, is usually a shade of red, is dried, and again, used in Indian cooking, for increasing metabolism, fighting inflammation and when mixed with turmeric, is a double-attack on fat (metabolism). Cumin's been considered to be good for digestion, (also anise seeds), and allows for the body's detox mechanism to activate. Coriander, is another nutritional herb/seed, often used for digestion, 'anti-diabetic', and cholesterol-lowering spice in Ayurveda.

     I know it's a lot of science and medicine today, but it's fascinating to know that for centuries, Indian cooking has been quite a science and obviously designed to be good for you. If only we learnt to lay off the cream and butter! I'd love to hear what your anjala potti has, and if you have pictures to share, even better.

     Next time, maybe I'll talk about fresh herbs that I've incorporated into my food--non-Indian ones too--rosemary, parsley, sage, basil, coriander. There's a reason people have been using them for centuries. We just forgot why.

     Thought I'd end with my favorite shrimp dish I like to make. It takes all of 10 minutes to cook (20 mins to marinate). Tandoori shrimp with bellpeppers. I've shared the tandoori paste recipe in an earlier post, so, check that out. For the medium-size shrimp, marinate 50-75 of them in the paste, with 1-2 tbsp oil, chili powder (1 tbsp), salt to taste for about 20 minutes. Cut 2 green bellpeppers longitudinally, and saute them in a cast-iron pan with 1-2 tbsp oil. Plate them, and then saute the shrimp in the leftover oil for 3-5 minutes. Plate and add a dash of lemon juice. Eat with naan or tandoori roti.

Enjoy, and hope you have a wonderful Thanksgiving!

A Hick/Snob in New York

Okay, so this post is late, I know. But hey, last week this time, I was in NYC! Yes, very lovely, very cold, very rude. Sure you all know about people there being bruque and busy. But this is my experience. I know, they have very little desire to exercise their face muscles and smile (a little) once in a while. The only exchange (the entire time!) I had with a random stranger was at a coffee shop where he made a mistake (afterall, 'tall' means small, even though it sounds like it's a HUGE cup of coffee, and everyone, absolutely EVERYONE, in Manhattan knows that!:o)), and so was embarrassed enough to make an apologetic face at me and say, "Oh, well, my brain isn't functioning, of course I knew tall versus grande!" To which I had to console him with a, "Who cares? Just ask for a small coffee, it's okay...no?" Apparently that wasn't the right answer, for the barista glared at me into silence. I broke the cardinal rule--New Yorkers don't make eye contact, don't smile and definitely don't talk, chitchat or banter for no reason. To think I'd lived in that state when I landed in this country sixteen years ago and still smile a bit too much. Obviously the CA sun's made my brain soft. I have become one of those always-smiling-like-an-idiot Californians! So, that was my 2c venting on non-smiling New Yorkers. (But wait, just like a late-night informercial, there's more!)

     The city itself is beautiful. The hustle, the noise, the sirens, the $5 'pashmina' shawls....it's got personality, character, personality (wait, I said that already!). It has a purpose, everyone looks very important, rushing to very important places, and everyone has that vacant look in their eyes, and really, truly don't want to make eye contact (or else something really bad might happen), and everyone's on their respective iPods, iPhones or Blackberries and they really need to discuss the discussion they had a few minutes back so they can schedule another discussion at yet another street crossing even though they may be on their respective phones standing next to each other waiting for the light to change. Is it just me? Are these people really that important? If you're not important, you shouldn't be there? That's what I got for eavesdropping, I guess.
Of course, besides all that, there are the museums. And MoMA is one of my favorites. I used to go there in the 90s, from grad school (schlepping from Long Island when the trains moved slower than we could run!), and so it was going down memory lane. Some views of MoMA, and the cathedral next door:

I'd thought this Warhol image (part of the soup collection) was so much bigger. That's what happens when you imagine New York. Things may not be big, they just appear to be.

     Here's one of my favorites, a Rauschenberg--and yes, it is an actual bed! A decade and a half ago, this wasn't enclosed in glass, and yes, I did touch it, and yes, the security people did yell at me and glare at me like all New Yorkers usually do. So it was amusing to think they put that glass case up to stop me from touching it again. But if there's one museum you have to go to when you're in NYC, MoMA is it. (I'm sure you know that already, and go on, roll your eyes as you read advice from a hick).

     I managed to hang out in St. Patrick's Cathedral too--I love churches. Don't ask me why, and don't analyze me either. I love the architecture, and the huge space inside them, and this cathedral is gorgeous.

And while I was there, I heard the commotion outside, for it was Veterans' Day, and 5th Avenue had a festive look, for it was parade time. The traffic was controlled, the security tight (these guys know what to do), and military people from different generations and wars were everywhere. School kids paraded down the street, and the WTC flag passed by too. The hick was ultra-impressed (jaw-dropped, waving-at-veterans-wildly-for-no-reason-kind-of-impressed).

The NYC police officer is a blur, yes, I know. He was moving way too fast! Not sure if the bagpipers could have guarded the borders much in those skirts flying around, so the police had to take over, I guess. Fun parade really.

And now, onto the food. That's where the snob part comes in. No, before you judge me, I've always loved the food there. What's not to love? But this time, man, did we pick the bad ones! The first one was a Zagat rated Thai place (Holy Basil) in East Village. The decor was great, ambience better, service (almost) smiling. It was great. It couldn't be bad. This is New York! But they didn't have any soup that was vegetarian. I watched Sanjay's face drop. The poor vegetarian had nothing to eat in New York. This was unheard of. We've always managed his vegetarian dishes anywhere, even in carnivorous Brasil. Finally, we got a Pad Thai for him which was edible but nothing great. And then, adventurous Ms. Hick i.e. me, decided to go for scallops and shrimp in red curry. Just one phrase to describe this--grit and dirt in the scallops. I mean, I'm usually quite submissive, and I was that evening. Did I return the plate? No. Did I curse them? No. Did I swallow the gritty scallops. Yes. But I think it was more out of shock (and utter disappointment) rather than anything else. New York serves the best food--what just happened?

   Anyway, that was redeemed in the theater district. Went to Tramonti, a small Italian restaurant between 8th and 9th on 46th, the pizza was fresh, the pasta (house special) light and sauce, a delight. The olive oil was gorgeous, a light taste that went well with their bread and the service was impeccable, even though it's right in the middle of tourist territory. It was wonderful. Yay for New York.

    The vegetarian found his place too. Ate the best falafel wraps at a busy almost-fastfood yet organic and fresh place, Crisp. Their motto is, "Crisp is fresh, and fresh is what Crisp lives by". It was light, a whole lot of food, and some of the best falafels I've tasted in a while. Try their African wrap if you get the chance.

     On the way back, Sanjay took some photos of a lively New York night--

And I thought to myself, you know, I'd forgotten how beautiful this city really is. So instead of looking for ways to tell you all how different it is or its people are from where I live, I should just sit back and just enjoy how charming it is. So, yes, the hick survived New York, and the snob slunk back home. If you are planning a trip there this winter, maybe around Christmas, then take the time, smile lots at random strangers (and throw them off!), breathe in the crisp city air, and enjoy!

All Things Italian

They're showing my favorite movie, "Gladiator" on TNT as I write this. I can't even type I'm so giddy with excitement. And no, I don't need you all to look down upon me for liking this cheesy movie, but I LOVE it. And Maximus is my favorite name. No discussions, that's that.

     Anyway, speaking of Gladiator, Europe and cheese...our little San Diego has a little Italy with the best gelato place (Cafe Italiano) that I need to dedicate a whole blog to, so I won't go there, but Sanjay and I did visit Little Italy a couple of weekends back since it was their little Festa (or festival) with the gesso artists' paintings all down India Street. It also helps that they named a street after our country so we go there as if Indians need to be represented on India Street in Little Italy.
     Yes, it isn't NYC or Boston, but hey, we have Italians here, and the fried foods, the pizzas, cannolis...all things so bad and yet so good...yes, they were all there too. We were good though, we just walked around, but come on, it's Festa and it's Little Italy. Succumb we did. To Cafe Zucchero. Their napoleans, fried iris, chocolate cheesecakes...everything decadent.
     But the prime attraction were the paintings--these are chalk art pieces drawn the same day and erased the next. And were they gorgeous. Here are a few:

If you didn't know any better, you'd think this was real...or at least an oil painting, right?

And this one was gorgeous--you can see the street crack through it too, and yet it's quite something!

     What with all things Italiano, I came home in the spirit of Italy and pulled out everything I could to make an Italian meal. Of course we had only 5 basil leaves, no pine nuts, hardly any cheese...Murphy's law, right? Wrong. This was my turn to twist all the Indian ingredients I had into a somewhat Italian meal.

Orzo with pesto sauce, and olives. How's that?

Pesto Sauce:

Note: I substituted coriander leaves instead of basil, walnuts instead of pine nuts. I'm sure you can try the same with almonds, though the taste will be slightly different.

Ingredients

5 cups chopped coriander leaves

1 cup chopped walnuts

1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil

1/2 cup Parmeggiano Reggiano

5 cloves garlic

1 medium green chili pepper

1 tsp ground pepper

salt to taste

Recipe

Mix above ingredients in a blender and slowly pour olive oil while blending till the mixture becomes a thick paste. Use it as a spread, or in your favorite pasta. Store leftover pesto sauce in an airtight container in the fridge for 2 weeks or so.

Now, once the pesto sauce was made, I rummaged through our many plastic containers and discovered we had a packet of orzo pasta. Orzo looks somewhat like rice, and precisely for that reason, the rice foodie that I am, orzo is one of my favorite pastas. I haven't tried to make anything else besides Italian pasts dishes with orzo, but I have a strong feeling I soon will. When I do, I'll let you know.

Till then, here's my recipe for Orzo Pasta--

Ingredients

2 cups cooked orzo pasta

1/2 cup chopped purple onions

2 cloves garlic

3 tbsp parmeggiano reggiano

1/2 tsp ground black pepper

2 tbsp chopped olives (black or green, your choice)

2 tbsp olive oil

3-4 tbsp pesto sauce

salt to taste

Recipe

• Heat the oil in a skillet, add in onions, and garlic till they brown
• Add the pasta, coat it with the oil
• Follow that with the olives
• Season with salt and pepper
• Mix in the pesto sauce, remove from flame
• Follow that with cheese, your choice, how much
• Serve with a healthy sprinkle of cheese, black pepper and maybe more pesto sauce

Note: You can add in chicken, shrimp or vegetables like bell peppers, tomatoes and such to the orzo too

     This is my effort--

And yes, I used black olives because I LOVE Trader Joe's sliced black olives. Nothing could be better unless you get olives from Italy. Nothing...except maybe "Gladiator".

 While we're still in Italy, here are a few more gesso paintings.

Enjoy!

A Deep Discussion on Daal (Makhani)

I realize I'm a big daal (lentils) addict. I suppose all Indians are. It's great with rice, naan, rotis, rich in proteins, fiber, it's just wonderful. And it's easy to make if you have a pressure cooker. Indians eat over ten (twenty?) types of daals, a mixture of them, individually, boiled, sprouted, steamed, cooked with curry leaves, with coriander leaves, with or without cream, with or without lime (and lemon), +/- ginger, with deep fried onions (or not), with tomatoes, with meat, with vegetables...you get the idea. The obsession is almost similar our obsession with mangoes, but that's a different topic. Back to daal.
  When I was in India, a 100 years ago, Ma cooked and I ate. Those were the roles assigned, and we didn't deviate. Imagine my surprise upon landing in New York, with my trusty suitcases, packets of chaat masala, cumin seeds, and Indian outfits that would remain in their pristine, starched form for years, and I realize, not only do I have to study, stay in school, do the dishes, pay my rent, balance my checkbook, have money in the bank to survive & pay bills but I also have to cook! Cook enough and cook edible. For the first year and a half I survived on butter chicken (there's only so much butter chicken you can eat every week, I realized that on month 3), half-thawed vegetables sautéed with almost raw coriander and cumin powder (I still can't buy those frozen packs, the trauma was well...traumatic), mushed rice from the rice cooker, cereal and milk (my lifesaver). Twenty pounds and a dress size (or two) later, I returned home to a crash course on cooking--especially daal. This time I was back in New York with every Indian grad student's favorite cookware, a Prestige pressure cooker. Since then, I've acquired three more cookers, and I have no idea how I lived without them or without lentils for so long. Urad, Moong, Masoor, Rajma, Choley, Toor..you name it. The world of daals opened up for me--a really heavenly experience, with the church music and halo lights around my pressure cooker...well, not quite that dramatic. But I even acquired a few cookbooks. That's how I started over a decade and a half ago. No, wait, a 100 years ago.
And this was my first daal I made, it's my sister's recipe. She's of course, the best cook in the world, and here's my attempt.
Note: If you don't understand the hindi names of these lentils, go to any Indian store, and they'll help you out. Promise.
Daal Makhani
Ingredients
1 cup उरद urad daal (चिल्का (chilka), unpeeled)
1/2 cup चना chana daal
1/2 cup kidney beans (राजमा rajma daal)
1/2 inch ginger, grated
2 cloves garlic
3 medium tomatoes, diced
1 tsp garam masala
1/2 tsp tumeric powder
4 tbsp yogurt
or 2 tbsp yogurt and 2 tbsp heavy cream
2 medium green chilies, chopped
coriander leaves for garnish
salt to taste
2 tbsp clarified butter, घी
Recipe

• Pressure cook the lentils with ginger, garlic, घी (ghee), chilies and tumeric powder
• Remove lid, and slow cook the same till the lentils blend with the spices
• Add cream/yogurt and cook some more before removing from the flame
• In a separate pan, heat ghee, ginger, tomatoes, green chilies, garam masala and salt
• Add the daal to this, and mix
• Add more cream if you want it richer (you've added tons of घी (ghee) and cream already, so stop!)
• Garnish with coriander leaves
• Serve with rice or रोटी rotis

This really should work. If it doesn't, let me know. But if a novice cookbook reader can make it, you can too. And it should look somewhat like this:

 Enjoy!

A Lazy Day at the Farmers' Market

This weekend was perfect—lazy, sunny, and I had absolutely no plans. Don’t know about you, but that’s what a perfect weekend is to me. Does say a lot about how much I value sleep, eh? When we moved to San Diego, everyone cautioned us that the sun will soften our brains and we’ll become laidback. I’m glad that happened the minute I landed here! There’s something about southern California sunshine, it’s just pure, fresh and bright. Really. If you’re from here, you know what I mean. If you’re not, visit this place, you’ll know what I mean.

A direct effect of this abundant sunshine (though we do have cloudy days, mind you), is the presence of weekend farmers’ markets. You’d find the most friendly and most hardworking people selling their produce. This weekend, Sanjay and I went to our neighborhood one in Del Mar. Do you see the color on the tomatoes? Come on, you’ve got to love this. Heirlooms abound. Drizzled with balsamic vinegar, mixed with fresh mozzarella, parsley and grated garlic, it’s a great appetizer. 
But back to the Del Mar farmers’ market—color was the name of the game, and it wasn’t just red from the tomatoes. Look at the squashes, and zucchini—I mean, come on, they’re gorgeous. Fall/winter brings the squash varieties back, and you can bet on quite a few dinners of roasted veggies with rotis.

Besides the customary tamales, mango and watermelon stands along with fish, flower and fruit stands, there’s even a cactus plant stand, the owner did scare me though—said, you need to come here every weekend (which I don’t, since I’m lazy), and so I lied and said, yes, yes, ma’am, I do and I will. And since I can’t lie that well, I guess I obligated to go every weekend now. Here's her cactus:

But the fun stand is the oranges one. The lady in the pineapple shirt has been there ever since I can remember. From blood oranges to Valencia’s, she has them all. She doesn’t talk much, but I have a feeling she loves oranges (and maybe pineapples). What do you think? I really should stop making up stories about farmers in pineapple shirts selling oranges….

  

Anyway, hope your weekend was fun too. More recipes to follow, but till then, enjoy the rest of what’s left of this weekend. Really, enjoy!