Multicultural raita

Pumpkin Raita

In the brave new world of their choice, many migrants often cling to their past and roots like captives in amber gems. Some surrender themselves to the ‘melting pot’ to become harmonious with the dominant culture. Yet others, and happily a growing majority, assert that cultural differences within a multicultural society are to be treasured and preserved. They choose to embrace the metaphor of a rich tapestry or a hearty salad bowl to denote a culturally and racially diverse society where people from different cultures mix, yet maintain their identity in their new domicile.

Last Sunday’s Superbowl was an exemplar of how so many of my Indian friends have embraced the traditions of their chosen homeland. My FB news feeds kept turning rapidly with friends, men and women alike, posting a minute-by-minute account of the happenings with enthusiasm and energy.

Also interesting was how my foodie friends on FB and in the blog sphere posted dishes from their own culture that they had cooked for their very American tailgating parties.

Tailgating parties I learnt, are usually held at the sporting venues, in the parking lots, with the tailgate of the SUVs drawn out and used as a counter to place the food. They are also held in people’s homes. The dishes are usually pooled in like in a potluck and are more often that not finger food with dips.

Learning about the culture of the game, the associated revelry and the good-natured rivalry, the food and drink connection and recipes specific to this game was fun, but what made a lasting impression was how Indian dishes fitted in- not melted in- but companionably rubbing shoulders with dips and buffalo wings.

Flipping through tailgating party recipes I came across a pumpkin dip with ground cumin, yoghurt and peanut butter and was struck by its similarity with the Maharashtrian pumpkin raita. 

I didn’t waste any time making this raita for an event by my friend Preeti Deo, herself a migrant. Her event,  the Ruchira Give Away  features Marathi dishes presented on a modern table, or Marathi dishes created and styled to resemble another dish in a different cuisine.

An Indian migrant blogger in Australia discovers a dip similar to a raita while studying a very American game’s culture and decides to make it as an entry for an event featuring Marathi dishes hosted by another Indian migrant blogger from the UK.  

It can’t get more multicultural, can it? 

Pumpkin Raita

Raitas are condiments, which have been prepared by whisking raw rai or mustard powder into the yoghurt dressing.

Ingredients

1½ cup cooked and roughly mashed pumpkin- microwaved butternut is the best

1 cup creamy and slightly tart yoghurt

2 tablespoons grated fresh or desiccated coconut

½ teaspoon fresh ginger paste

2 tablespoons roasted and roughly ground peanuts (optional)

½ teaspoon freshly ground mustard (increase the quantity if you like it!)

½ teaspoon roasted jeera powder

A tablespoon of chopped green coriander

A pinch of red chilli powder

Salt to taste

½ teaspoon sugar or substitute if the pumpkin is not quite sweet, to balance the sourness of the yoghurt

For the tempering (this is optional – I haven’t used it in this raita)

1 tablespoon oil/ghee

½ teaspoon of mustard seeds

½ teaspoon of jeera

A few curry leaves

A generous pinch of hing

1 or 2 green chillies, cut into small pieces, depending on how hot you want it!

Method

Mix the cooked and roughly mashed pumpkin, grated coconut, crushed peanuts, ginger paste, roasted jeera powder, chilli powder, salt and sugar together. In another small bowl, vigorously mix the mustard powder and some of the yoghurt so that the mustard lets out its flavour. Add the yoghurt mixture and the rest of the yoghurt to the pumpkin mixture.

In a small pan, heat the oil and add the mustard seeds and jeera seeds. When the seeds start spluttering, add the chillies, curry leaves and hing. Pour it on top of the raita and garnish with the chopped coriander leaves. (As I said, this is optional.)

It’s a very easy dish and can be served as a side dish with practically any mains and rice or rotis.

Unforgettable lessons

Tzatziki 

A Marathi adage calls a time when mothers eat before feeding their children an apocalypse or the mythical kalyug - the “age of downfall”. Our mothers (and their mothers before them) have reinforced this tradition of feeding the family first in their very giving and nurturing ways.  To this day, since in her old age she needs to eat early, Mother feels remorseful that she has eaten before her kids.

When she (and we) were much younger, Mother would always place herself the last in the pecking order – only in its strictest and most literal sense, mind you! But I also remember that one time when my brother and I were once very surprised- no, make it shocked- when we chanced upon Mother delicately sipping at a lovely bright green coloured drink. Our first reaction was to demand to know what she was drinking and protest why she hadn’t offered us any. But she refused to give us even a nip, while sporting a very mysterious, mischievous smile. 

The more we pestered mother, the more resolutely, but pleasantly she denied us.

We were baffled. This was so uncharacteristic of her. Wasn’t she supposed to be the epitome of sacrifice and selflessness- it’s surprising how even as little kids, we have this expectation built into our genetic coding!  

When we wouldn’t give up, she agreed - though not without some hesitation and a by-now fast widening naughty smile. 

Exhilarated by our victory, blissfully oblivious to any possibility of foul play, we proceeded to partake the elixir. 

It was the bitterest briny brew ever! The juice of the bitter gourd, or bitter melon or karela that Mother had extracted from the vegetable with the help of plenty of salt, to relieve it of its bitterness before cooking. 

Before her guffaws and our squeals and rants and whines had subsided, we had learnt some very important lessons in the kitchen of life. 

Lesson No. 1 - Never discard the tender/edible seeds of vegetables like tomato, cucumber, bottle gourd and even bitter gourd (whose tough woody seeds are actually very tasty!). They add precious nutrition, roughage, texture and volume to the dishes. 

Lesson No. 2 –Ditto with edible peels of cucumber, potatoes, tomatoes, and the gourds, for their rich coloured skins can provide so much fibre, colour, and crispness apart from food values, and don’t taste bad at all? 

Lesson No. 3 – Ditto again with squeezing out the juice of vegetables. In case you have to squeeze the juice out for you don’t have the guts to go against the recipe, why throw it away? You can always use the essence elsewhere – cucumber juice can go into your sambar, whey from hung curd and paneer can go into a kadhi or used to knead dough, peels can be made into chutneys and condiments…

P.S.  Bitter gourd juice can be used to teach your children these lessons.

Tzatziki

Tzatziki is a sauce or dip used in Greek and Turkish cuisine as meze or appetiser. It is made with hung curd (usually from sheep or goat milk) and mixed with peeled, grated or finely chopped and squeezed cucumbers, garlic, salt, olive oil and lemon juice.  Dill, mint or parsley are some of the herbs that season it. 

The tzatziki is well within our Indian comfort zone - for it is a second cousin of the kheerey ka raita and kakadichi koshimbir.

I have used all the ingredients without straining whey, peeling skins, discarding seeds and squeezing out juice. 

Remember the unforgettable lessons?

Ingredients 

1 ½ cups regular yoghurt (You could use Greek yogurt if you don’t want the whey on your hands!) 
2 Lebanese cucumbers or kheera, grated (Don’t you dare discard the peels and seeds!) 
2 garlic cloves, crushed finely
1 tbsp lemon juice (or less if the yoghurt is quite sour)
1 tbsp olive oil
Salt to taste
Ground white pepper to taste
Rocket leaves to garnish

(You can add mint, dill parsley or coriander if you like - I added some rocket as that was the only fresh green thingie in the fridge for dolling up the dish for the photo!)

Method

Combine yoghurt, cucumber, garlic, lemon juice, white pepper and salt in a bowl. Cover and refrigerate for a while.

Serve as a dip with pita crisps or warm toasted Turkish bread drizzled with olive oil, crackers and crudités (mind you- no peels to be removed!). You can even or pour it as a sauce on pita pockets filled with falafels. 

If you want to extrapolate and take away learning points other than those bitter lessons, add garlic to your "dahi ani kakadichi koshimbir".

This is my first entry for my blogger friend Preeti Deo's Ruchira giveaway event.