ANZAC Kheer!

Barley Kheer

Photos by Amruta Nargundkar

26^th January 2013

Australia Day, Indian Republic Day

As I settle down to watch the morning news with a cup of tea, the hot topic for discussion on TV is the rising incidence of drinking and alcohol related violence on Australia Day in Australia.

If Australia Day is a celebration of our patriotism and national identity, the latest evidence suggests that we have a major problem on our hands. Research shows that more Australians get drunk and violent on Australia Day than on any other day of the year, says the panel.

Having a drink is often associated with being inherently Australian. You are un-Australian if you don’t drink. While most people celebrate in a safe and respectful way - many with a drink or two, it’s unfortunate that so many people think it is fashionable to binge drink on Australia Day.  Many get caught up in drunken aggressive behaviour and yet many get involved in accidents.

Others spend their Australia Day dealing with drunken idiots in hospitals or police lock-ups, or drunk drivers on our roads.

Is it just because the Australia Day weekend is the last long weekend before summer ends and people would like to let down their hair? And letting down one’s hair is always associated with drinking binges for many? Is the traditional barbecue inconceivable without the drinking? Is drinking an indispensable part of celebrations? Is it something that we can blame on the companies that manufacture alcohol and those that promote it so vigorously?
 

A public holiday on a festival or national day is meant to give you time to remember the reason for celebration, meet with like minded people and remember, redefine and relate the significance of these special occasions to our lives today…

Then we change channels and watch the Indian President address to the nation. Our rascally, irreverent hoots at his accented English gradually slowly dissipated, replaced by keen attention as the Rashtrapati candidly spoke about the recent tragedy in Delhi. His words made impact.

“It is time for the nation to reset its moral compass.”

 “The anxiety and restlessness of youth has to be channelized towards change with speed, dignity and order.”

And I remember Mother, who may well have spoken so.

When we were kids, Mother, a proud daughter of freedom fighter parents, always made something nice (and sweet) on national holidays.

“But this is not a festival like Diwali and Dasera”, we would say.  Mother would tell us these days were as significant, or perhaps more, as our traditional festivals, for they are more current and related to our immediate lives.

She would liken Dasera, celebrated to commemorate Ram’s victory over Ravan, the triumph of good over evil to the Indian Independence Day. Diwali marked the return of Ram and Sita to their kingdom, signifying the return of peace and sovereignty, quite like the Indian Republic Day.  In a few hundred years from now, Independence Day and Republic Day would also be observed like these two days. They will symbolise freedom from bondage of whatever is troubling the society at that time. They will entail a celebration of the establishment of the supreme law and governance of the land for the happiness and well being of the people of those times.

Some of this wisdom is recreated from memory and experience, for it must have been lost on us young kids.

Wow! We would think, as we fantasised how festivals would be celebrated in a futuristic society. Will they make sweets? Will they perform a puja? Will they buy new clothes and crackers?

As we settle down to watch the spectacular, larger than life celebrations at the Republic Day Parade on TV, the family asked “So what’s for lunch, Mum?”

I try to come up with a dish that would have elements of celebration and significance for both the countries so dear to us, one our 'janmabhoomi' and the other our 'karmabhoomi'. 

I think oats, coconut and brown sugar of the ANZAC biscuits that sustained diggers (troops) during the Great Wars. 

I remember the gavachi kheer, the wholesome sweet gruel made with wheat pearls and jaggery, a feast food in Marathwada.

I see oats or barley, coconut and jaggery. 

I say,  “ANZAC kheer!”

Barley Kheer

1 cup pearl barley

1 cup dates, chopped

½ cup chopped almonds

¾ cup fresh grated coconut (desiccated will do)

½ cup jaggery, grated (or sweetener)

1 tbsp poppy seeds, dry roasted

½ ts fennel seeds

½ tsp powdered cardamom

¼ tsp powdered nutmeg

Handful of chopped almonds to garnish

Handful of chopped dates to garnish

1 tbsp ghee

1 tbsp whole-wheat flour (atta)

2 cups full cream milk

Ghee to serve (optional)

Grind the coconut, roasted poppy seeds and fennel seeds together. Keep aside.

Wash and cook the pearl barley really soft with plenty of water. I pressure cooked it.

In a suitable heavy bottomed pan, melt the ghee and add the wheat flour and roast it well.  Remove into a small dish. Then to the same pot, add the cooked barley and some water to adjust the consistency. Add the coconut and poppy and fennel seeds ground together, the chopped dates, chopped almonds and some jaggery or sweetener to adjust the sweetness. When it comes to a boil, slowly mix in the roux or roasted atta. Add the milk and bring it back to a simmer. Adjust the consistency. Add the cardamom and nutmeg. Keep on adjusting the consistency till you get a thick creamy gruel.

Serve warm, garnished with some almonds and chopped dates and topped  with some melted ghee.

This kheer is like the gavhachi kheer made in Maharashtra and Karnataka. 

Open Sesame!

Gul Poli (black sesame and jaggery stuffed pastry)

Pilao, pilao! Dheel! Dheel! Dheel! Arreyreyrey! Khinch…khinnnch! Kaaat!! Yayyy!

Every rooftop terrace resounded with the jubilant or protesting cries, whistles, party horns and drum rolls from friendly rivals flying and contesting kites in a “pench”. Everything was fair in this war, from hurling friendly insults, the squabbling over ownership of kites, the pedestrian rights of the terraces to running after the wayward defeated kites with poles in hand to claim the bounty.

The crisp and azure winter sky of my childhood came to life with hundreds of paper kites of myriad colours and designs soaring and plummeting, their tails saucily dancing after them. From dawn to dusk on the two days of Makar Sankranti, people of all ages gathered on their rooftops terraces known as chandnis or gacchis. Flying and fighting kites in the feisty winds of the winter solstice, their spirits rose and fell and rose again with the fates of the kites in duel.

The kite flying or “patang pilana” would actually start much earlier, with kids and younger folk doing a recce of the local kite stalls, staring in wonderment and longing at the lovely kites in so many shapes and sizes and the huge pastel coloured bobbins of “manja” cutting edge lines and the much larger snow white spools of the “sadha” cotton twine hanging in the front of the shops, waiting to be unravelled and measured out by the hand breadths or lacchas. Every shopkeeper had their own formula that was supposedly the wickedest, for an aggressive or potent manja played a key role in the success of the kites flying. It had to be of a good strength, suitable ply, sharpness and stiffness, but light in weight.

The kids eyed the kites they coveted, boasting to one another how they would be getting the bigger fighter kites and manjas on the days of the festival and hurried back to their pads, hugging to their chests the smaller kites and the shorter fan shaped lacchas of manja held preciously in their hands.

One Sankranti season Dada, my brother and his friends had even made their own manja, stringing cotton thread between two poles and walking up and down rubbing the length of thread with a deadly gooey paste of rice, colour and finely crushed glass! I was the hanger-on and was allowed to crew on this daring mission only because I was sworn to secrecy.

Back on the terrace, some kids were leaders and others like me, were followers and caddies. Sport of most sorts not being my forte, I was happy to faithfully tag along Dada. He was an ace sportsman, cricketer and kite flier and I was his Sancho Panza, releasing or launching the kite and then running hurriedly to take my position carrying the charak or the spool.

In between these tasks, I had to play the water carrier for the thirsty lot. I also had this critical task, which I fulfilled bursting with self-importance, of making forays downstairs to raid and smuggle some of the til gul laddus or gul polis, candied sesame seed halwa, revadis and chikkis for the warriors.

Once our nefarious activity was detected and stopped, the gang was happy to feast on some of the less sinful and more freely available plenties like the skinned sugar cane pieces, bers (jujubes) hari boot (green garbanzo beans), gengulu (Palmyra sprouts), red - not orange- carrots and pieces of “gulacha face”- the froth from jaggery boiling captured in its foamy lightness along with peanuts, roast gram dal and small pieces of copra.

Out in the sun the whole day, then moving to the shade when it stung, jumping up to squint at an interesting prize-fight, grazing, teasing, laughing and shouting ourselves hoarse, who would’ve imagined that our lives would enter another hemisphere, geographical and chronological in a southbound journey!

Gul poli

The gul-poli as this paratha is called is a traditional Marathi dish that is prepared during the Sankranti/ Lohri festival. This dish is particularly made during this season as traditionally the purpose was to eat heat-inducing foods during winter and also these ingredients are freshly harvested during this season. The accompanying dollops of ghee supposedly warm up the body. 

This year I made gul poli with black sesame seeds, for a change. Black sesame seeds are a bit more savoury and have lent this poli a nice bottom note of savouriness. The colour is courtesy the black sesame!

Ingredients

For the stuffing:

1 ½ cup grated soft kolhapuri gur

¾ cup black sesame seeds

¼ cup white sesame seeds
½ cup desiccated coconut (make sure it is not rancid)
½ cup roasted and powdered peanuts
1 tbsp poppy seeds (khus khus),
7-8 green cardamoms
A large pinch of nutmeg powder
1 tbsp ghee

For the dough:

1 cup wholewheat flour (atta)

1 cup plain flour

1 tbsp oil for shortening 

A pinch of salt
water for kneading

Method:

In a kadhai or pan toast the black sesame seeds very lightly (they become bitter if you toast them too much). Add poppy seeds to puff up slightly. Add the desiccated coconut towards the end of the toasting of the sesame seeds as coconut burns easily. Turn the heat off. Cool the roasted mixture and grind or pound all the ingredients for the stuffing except the gur. Mix the ground mixture with the grated gur and a tablespoon of ghee until it acquires an oily, moist crumbly texture that can be rolled into loose balls. 

Knead the flours, salt and oil into a smooth medium soft chapati like dough and let it rest covered for about 15 minutes. 

Make equal portions of the dough and the til-gur mixture and roll them into balls. Roll out the dough balls into small puris, with thin edges and thicker centres and place a loose ball of the til-gur mixture on it.  Fold the puri around it like a modak or a momo. Make sure to trim the excess dough peaks and then gently roll the stuffed dough ball in your hands making sure the filling has reached all over the inside of the ball. Then pat it gently into a roundel on a floured surface and sprinkle some sesame seeds on it  and roll out into a medium sized paratha, as thin as possible.

If you can see that the filling has not reached the sides during the rolling, trim the edges of the roti into a perfect round with a fluted pastry cutter. Dust the excess flour and then cook the polis on a medium hot griddle. Dot it with some oil and turn over to cook the other side and oil this side as well. 

Take care to use a spatula to turn them over as the roti can get very deceptively hot because of the gur.

Serve warm with cold ghee or cold with melted ghee.

These polis are served during the main meal during the festive season and not as a dessert, like so many Marathi sweets like shrikhand-puri, kheer-puri and puranpoli. The gul-polis stay well for a week or so (if one can stay away from them) and make a great snack, too! 

Tip

If you find rolling the crumbly stuffing in the dough difficult, add two tablespoons of besan, lightly roasted in a tablespoon of ghee (like a besan roux). This will help bind the mixture and tastes good, too! You could also try adding a tablespoon of khoya!

Double promotion

Gavhachi Kheer (broken wheat or wheat pearl porridge)

Satyamma the multi-purpose maid walks up to the teacher at her desk. Having finished all her work, the little observant girl has been looking around her and absorbing the goings on. She wills the two grown-ups to look at her – are they talking about her? Well, they are and they do!  Viju Bai, the teacher calls out to little Shruti. Her tiny heart thudding, Shruti walks to the front of the class.

“Well done, beta! You have got doubble promotion! You will now study in First standard! Go and collect your things, you need to go to your new class!” She says fondly.

“Chalo!” says Satyamma, slurping up the paan juices and leading me by gently pushing and poking me in the middle of the back.

The first grade classroom is but a few feet away, in another open huddle of little colorful wooden chairs and desks arranged like many others in the large hall of the Bhagini Mandal’s Shishu Vihar. I am taken there and pointed to a pink chair in the first row. A kindly Shobhana Bai smiles in welcome.

That’s it.

No fuss, no written rationale for considering double promotion on the basis of maturity level/age, high achievement or attendance, no parent interview, no counselors involved, no gifted students assessment, no grievance handling procedures…

But then I forget - this was when school was "Shishu Vihar" and teachers were fondly called Viju Bai and Shobhana Bai!

That afternoon, mother comes to know of this double promotion from an excited me romping in with the news. She smiles, pats me on the back, “Shabbassh!” and the matter rests there.

No concern whatsoever; no worries ever.

The only fuss ever made was at the time of every board exam, when I had to submit a certificate from the doctor that I was physically and mentally fit to appear for the board exam.

OK, I will admit I got teased invariably as “physically I was fit, but mentally… ?”

Years later I became a teacher and later a parent myself and re-entered the system.

All I can say is that things were much easier in those days. 

As easy as it is to make a kheer out of dalia or broken wheat, in place of the tediously de-husked wheat pearls. 

The other day, on a visit to Atul Sikand's famous Sikandalous Kitchen, I was given a choice at breakfast...

Avatar Singh : Pohe, upma?

Atul Sikand : Nah- she’s from the land of upma and pohe.

Avatar Singh: Sprouts?

Me: No, I can’t chew!

Avatar Singh: Dalia porridge?

Me: Oh yes! Have you got khus khus and jaggery? And some saunf and coconut? I will make gavhachi kheer!

Avatar Singh: Yes, memsaab…

(Goes out to fetch these things)

Atul Sikand:  Or home grown organic eggs

Me: Yes! I would love to eat the wholesome non-smelling eggs, please!

Avatar Singh comes back with some khus khus and gur, but is told we have abandoned the porridge and settled on the eggs.

Avatar gets busy preparing the eggs.

In that instant I realise I had given a double promotion to a Dalia porridge by euphemistically calling it “Gavhachi Kheer”! No fuss! How simple is that!

Gavhachi Kheer (wheat pearl kheer) or Dalia porridge

This dish is a delicacy in Maharashtra, Andhra Pradesh and Karnataka, where it is called “godama payasam” and “huggi”.

The process of de-husking the wheat to make pearls is very cumbersome. Wheat has to be soaked, drained and semi- dried. This process loosens the husk, which contains cellulose that can’t be digested. The wheat is then pounded and the husk loosened even more. Then it is dried thoroughly and the husk rubbed and chaff winnowed. The de-husked pearls are then stored and cooked soft to make the kheer.

I substitute, errr, give double promotion to broken wheat or dalia to go into this exotic dish. The addition of dates is also my take- a very delicious alternative to cane sugar!

Ingredients

1 cup broken wheat

A pinch of salt

1 cup deseeded and chopped dates

¾ cup fresh grated coconut

1 tbsp lightly roasted and powdered poppy seeds

½ cup or more grated gur or sweetener

2 tbsp ghee

½ tsp crushed cardamom

¾ tsp lightly roasted and crushed saunf (fennel seeds)

¼ tsp grated nutmeg 

2-3 tbsps slivered almonds, sliced cashews – fried in ghee

2 cups hot milk

1 cup hot/cold milk to serve

Ghee as required to top the kheer

Method

Roast the dalia in the ghee till it is golden brown and lets out the aroma. Add two-three cups boiling water, pinch of salt, and cook the dalia till almost done. You can pressure cook it as well and then mix it in the pressure cooker itself. Keep stirring the mixture and add the powdered poppy seeds, coconut, dates, gur or sweetener, saunf, cardamom, nutmeg and adjust the taste. Keep stirring occasionally and switch off the heat when you have a perfectly cooked homogeneous porridge or kheer.

Add two cups of hot milk to finish it.

To serve, add milk to loosen the mixture and serve warm topped with the fried nuts and dollops of hot ghee!