Clive, curry and Maugham

Vegetarian Singapore Noodles

For someone who cooks so voluminously and variedly all the time, I struggled for a long time to figure out what was meant by “curry powder” or “Madras”. 

I mean, we are well acquainted with garam/sambar/rasam/goda/ chole/pav bhaji/and what not masalas.But what’s a curry powder? 

Must be garam masala of sorts… I would think.

On one of our first outings in Australia, up the beautiful Dandenong ranges, we ordered what looked like heartwarming homemade curry pasties (curry puffs) in a quaint little restaurant. 

Why are vege options almost always only "curry" or "spinach and ricotta"? 

I expected the curry puffs to have that wonderful garam masala flavour that  curry puffs from Banglore Iyengar Bakery have. 

Instead, they had a distinct taste of sambar with a hint of  - was it saunf (fennel)?

The charming lady who ran the restaurant looked at me in disbelief when asked what the seasoning was – don’t you know- it’s curry powder!

So now we know better – anything that says curry, tastes like sambar (with saunf/anise) okay, I will grudge a whiff of garam masala at times, but I am dogmatic that essentially it is a drab version of sambar powder…

Stereotyping or synecdoche, it’s true that the colonialists took away Indian spices in their myriad fragrant flavours, only to institutionalise them into one generic khaki powder.

But then, it’s quite droll and retributive for an Indian that a tin with the grim and foreboding countenance of bob-wigged Bobby Clive (Clive of India brand curry powder) actually packs a quotidian sambar powder like spice mix….

It’s this very curry powder that makes these stir fried noodles “Singapore”.

Is Somerset Maugham our antidote for Clive?

Vegetarian Singapore Noodles

Ingredients

225g egg noodles (or rice noodles - but you'll have to cook them differently)

2 tbsp light soy sauce

2 tbsp rice vinegar

2  (or more) cups sliced/julienned vegetables (cabbage, carrot, red and green peppers, snow peas, mushroom (reserve some shredded cabbage for garnishing)

2 spring onions, sliced diagonally (reserve some for garnishing)

2 tbs vegetable oil, plus extra for noodles

1 tbsp sesame oil

1 tbsp crushed garlic

1 tbsp grated ginger

2 tbs curry powder

1 tsp brown sugar

Crushed dried red chillies/ sliced red chillies - to taste

Salt and pepper to taste

Fresh coriander leaves, to garnish

Boil a large pot of water, add salt and a spoon of oil and cook noodles el dente. Drain and refresh with cold water. Keep aside.

Heat the oil in a large wok and add the sliced spring onion, garlic and ginger. Then add the other vegetables one by one according to their cooking times, keep stirring all the time. Add the soy sauce, rice vinegar, brown sugar, pepper, curry powder and continue to stir fry the vegetables for a few seconds and add the sesame oil. Add the noodles now and cook for another minute or so. Check the salt and add per taste.

Serve piping hot garnished with coriander and some of the shredded cabbage and spring onions.

Cheesy Choices

Cheese Mysore Bonda

 

Some of you may share my disdain for things like cheese dosa, paneer dosa, baby corn dosa, cheese Mysore masala dosa, cheese pav bhaji, cheese dabheli – such fusion in foods sounds a tad cheesy and almost wannbe…

Why is there a need to add cheese, baby corn and paneer to regional dishes that don’t really need this added embellishment?

Do the restaurants really adjust ingredients to justify the claims – or just chuck in a handful of Amul cheese and wilting ageing baby corn – to make it “special”?

Does this far-fetched addition of foreign stuff warrant the substantial difference in the price?

Is this a stratagem to make these traditional dishes more attractive to younger people?

Does this attempt at modernisation delude diners into thinking they are patronising a  “progressive and trendy” eatery?

Okay… granted, I am a little crabby that a most fantastic long weekend has come to an end… reckon I am restive tonight – it’s past midnight; accept I will be busy meeting a mid-week work deadline… and won’t be able to indulge in writing or cooking…

Hmmm, so cheese, paneer and baby corn in these dishes may have some merit. If nothing, only to mitigate the inordinate levels of heat introduced in restaurant foods these days…

Thinking about the dish I am describing - remembering how the flour and cheese were a perfect match - my grudging grumpiness is melting, just like the cheese in the bondas  – and diminishing just like the spongy bondas disappeared in no time…

Cheese Mysore Bonda

This is a perfect snack attack dish - a tad oily, so reserve it for a real special day when you come home hungry on a rainy Friday, after driving for an hour through treacle traffic ... like I did the other day!

Ingredients

1½ cups self-raising flour

½ cup rice flour

¾ cup sour yoghurt

1 onion, chopped

1 tbsp fresh ginger, chopped fine

2-3 green chillies, finely chopped

1 tbsp coriander leaves finely chopped

A few curry leaves, chopped fine

1 tsp cumin seeds

4-5 tbsp grated mozzarella cheese

Salt to taste

Oil to deep fry

Method

Make a thick batter of the flours, chopped onions, chopped green chillies, chopped curry leaves, chopped ginger, cumin seeds, coriander leaves and the yoghurt. Add some water to adjust the consistency to resemble that of a thick pakora batter. Make sure there are no lumps. Add the grated mozzarella cheese and then the salt accordingly. 

Heat oil in a wok and drop spoonfuls into hot oil. Fry the bondas till they are golden brown and remove them on a kitchen paper to drain excess oil.

When you fry in a large quantity of oil, the bondas come out round – but I usually use small amounts of oil, hence the flatter shape.

Serve hot with tomato sauce and mustard sauce.

Good (Woman) Friday

Hot Cross Buns

Photos by Amruta Nargundkar 

Good Friday used to be a big day for Baby, my Woman Friday, my help, my saviour… Her usually vivacious and happy persona underwent a dramatic change on the day, but there was a distinct theatricality even to her mourning. 

She would grieve for the “one who paid for the sins of the world”.  She would fast and not even drink any water. She would reminisce about how her mother would fast throughout the lent period and on Good Friday dress her brood in their church clothes and get them to church at dawn and then again at the vespers.

Baby would then light heartedly remark that it wasn’t difficult to fast, as they were used to going hungry. Moreover, it also meant they saved on food bills. But over Easter her mother would make sure they ate well. 

On a Good Friday morning more than fifteen years ago, I was driving Baby to church (taxis were not safe for women). Sitting in the air-conditioned comfort of my car, wearing a new white dress I had bought her (in a very filmy way she ensured she had one white dress for Good Friday every year), Baby’s nostalgic tone while describing for the umpteenth time how this holiday was spent in her village betrayed her homesickness.

I suspected she, and the thousands of her tribe in the Middle East, used their day off from work congregating at the local church and later flocking together in the churchyard to vent all their homesickness and frustrations - an unwitting attempt to purge their negative feelings.

It didn’t matter if they were Philippina, Sirlankan or Indian; they were in the same situation in this land of opportunity – martyrs for their family’s needs, repatriating all their income and enduring a “morning to evening, seven day work week”. They would talk about their loved ones in far away countries and how much they missed them. They would discuss their employers – sympathising with those that suffered at their hands and envying the more fortunate who boasted about their working conditions and perks.

“So did you crib about me?” I would tease her…

“Ayyoo! Kyaa mayydem! Nai mayydem! I am enjoying life here, our house is so comfortable, you are like my amma and this is myyy fyamily, and I have a room of my own, with plenty of food to eat…”

Baby would embarrass me…

While enjoying the luxury of domestic help, very few of us - more privileged expatriates ourselves- and the locals, spare a thought to the situation that migrant labour puts these women in. 

Being poor and largely unskilled, this is the best source of income for their families. More often than not, these women are the principal breadwinners for their families- families that get opportunistically extended to include near and distant relatives and needy ones.

The recruitment agent’s fee, travel expenses and other costs and the debts they had incurred to meet the costs offset the money they earn in a big way. The repatriated funds are invariably all but spent by the time they return home. It doesn’t help that these women cut a poor societal image because of stories of “misconduct” by some women.

Do people forget that the sadness and stress of being away from their families for so long and the burden of trying to keep their jobs and stay safe corrode these women’s will to fight for their rights?

When I picked Baby up from the church late that afternoon and she was all agog, chattering about her friends, gossiping a little and invariably some sad stories crept in - Flavy was accused of stealing, Maricel was deported to Cebu when she refused her employer’s advances, Nipuni’s mother died in Negambo and she wasn’t told for over six months as her family feared she would return home…

Just then, we reached Modern Oman Bakery – much to my relief, for the stories were getting gloomier than those from the morning.

I asked Baby if she had eaten and sure enough she hadn’t. We then picked up some fresh hot cross buns and returning home feasted on buttered warm buns and tea.

Just as we feasted on homemade hot cross buns at teatime today.

All of us had had a light lunch in anticipation of this treat. The light lunch was all but digested from the trips to the kitchen to see if the dough was rising and if the buns were proved.

Conferring, discussing, disagreeing, arguing, giggling and drawing on each others knowledge of baking and skills of research on Google, Amruta and I finally managed to get the buns into the oven in the baking mode. 

We were lying in wait - the table laid, the butter softened, the kettle boiling…

Ten minutes out of the oven and the buns had been photographed and demolished.

I am so gorged and full - I wish Baby were here to clear the mess in the kitchen…

HOT CROSS BUNS

Amruta and I conferred and used flax seed meal whisked with water as a substitute for egg (there were no eggs at home and no store was open) but did we have amazing results!

INGREDIENTS

4 cups plain flour + plus a little extra to dust

½ tsp salt

½ tsp cinnamon powder

A large pinch of nutmeg powder

1 clove crushed fine

14 g dried yeast (2 sachets)

½ cup packed cup brown sugar

350 ml lukewarm milk

2 tbsp flax seed meal whisked with 6 tbsp water

2 tbsp oil to knead the dough

¾ cup sultanas

FOR THE CROSSES

¼ cup plain flour

¼ cup water

FOR THE GLAZE 

1 tbsp sugar

3 tbsp water

1 tbsp apricot jam (I used sugar free apricot jam)

METHOD

Mix the sifted flour and spices with the yeast, salt and sugar in a large bowl. Add warm milk and the flaxseed mixture to the flour mixture. Mix until it forms into a rough dough.

Add the raisins and knead the dough on a floured board until smooth and elastic. Return the dough to the bowl and cover with plastic wrap and leave in a warm place for an hour or until doubled in size.

Knock back the dough to its original size. Knead until smooth then divide the dough into 12-14 portions. Shape each portion into a ball, then place onto a greased tray about 1cm apart.

Cover with plastic wrap. Set aside in a warm place for 30 minutes or until buns double in size.

CROSSES

Mix flour and water together in a small bowl until smooth, adding a little more water if paste is too thick.

Spoon the flour paste into a small plastic zip lock bag and seal it. Snip off a corner of the bag to make a small hole. Pipe the paste over tops of the buns to form crosses.

Bake in a moderately hot oven 200°C for 15-20 minutes or until cooked when tested.

Allow to cool a little on a wire rack.

GLAZING

Combine the sugar, jam and water in a small saucepan and stir until the sugar dissolves. Bring to the boil and simmer for minute. Cool a little and then brush the warm glaze over warm hot cross buns.

Serve warm with a generous slap of butter. Don’t forget that cup of tea.

If you are serving the buns after they are completely cooled, toast the buns a little and serve with butter.

The laddoo of our lives!

Boondi Laddoo /बुंदी चा लाडू/ బూంది లడ్డు 

Photos by Amruta Nargundkar

It’s fascinating to watch those large platters of the golden globes of the boondi laddoos – in front of Lord Ganesh in calendar art; in the hands of random people dexterously rushing from here to there in a wedding scene in Hindi films; in pooja thalis of filmy mums returning from prayers at the temple or performing an arati on homecoming or war bound heroes (always wonder why they have to have so many laddoos, for they break off only a small piece to stuff in the blessed hero’s mouth and the rest gets forgotten when the shot is cut)…

Then there are laddoos lying flush and snug in a traditional red “tie-and-die” or bandhni print mithai box or a modern bejeweled casket during festive seasons; laddoos filling deep and huge yellow-red cellophane- wrapped baskets atop the shoulders of a train of turbaned gift bearers; laddoos in a pyramid pile at the mithai wala; bright yellow (almost fluorescent yellow) laddoos crammed inside general store candy jars; laddoos in a white or brown paper packet distributed in schools on Republic Day; laddoos that need replenishment just before the server reaches you at a sit down meal (not to mention that for some reason the servers recommence after replenishing starting from the person beside you)…

Motichoor, Tirupati prasad, shaadi key laddoo; laddoos in thanksgiving and those for celebration, hard ones and soft ones, big boondis and small boondis, laddoos orange, yellow, speckled with green and red, dotted with sugar crystals, seeds and nuts and dried fruit; flavoured with camphor, cardamom, cloves, saffron or occasionally chocolate and vanilla; pure ghee laddoos and oil fried ones – occasionally one made in a trans-fat medium (dalda!)…

The laddoo is as primordial an orb as the earth, and as celestial a body as the moon.

The word laddoo itself is so sweet – even Elmo from Sesame Street couldn’t stop saying ladduladduladduladduuuuu – don’t believe me? Do watch the episode titled Rakhi Road to see what I mean!

I made these laddoos for my darling daughter’s birthday today. As she wished.

And to think, there was a time, when as a gangly teenager, she suffered her (almost) greatest embarrassment at school on her birthday!

It so happened - the husband went to buy some sweets for his darling daughter’s special day, and on a whim, bought a few kilos of premium quality motichoors, thinking she would love to take them to school. What was he thinking!

I suppose I must have greatly added to her ignominy as well, when in my – everyone gives chocolates – you do something new - you shouldn’t be scared to be different - what’s so shameful about following your culture- why waste all these kilos of good mithai-poor people in India don’t get to eat even dry and stale bread – I coerced the fourteen year old to take the motichoors to distribute in class.

Now a lovely young lady who fortunately doesn’t mind being affectionately called “laddoo” and still adores laddoos, this child of ours has never forgiven us for this grave wrong.

But she does give us a bit of reprieve, when she tells us that she never let the huge box reach the class room – disposing of the uncool treats in several ingenious and not wasteful ways and places- one of them we are sure, being her own tummy!

Boondi Laddoo

As I have said enough above, the laddoo comes in various sizes, shapes, colours, textures and flavours. But our favourites are the Marathi laddoo and the Tirupati laddoo which is a little stiff and made with thicker syrup, as it is meant to last a while. It’s similar to the Tirupati prasad laddoo, in texture, but the latter has a distinct camphor flavour to it!

It has been my dream, shared by my enthusiastic girls, to make boondi laddoos at home. So much so that on my recent trip to India I even bought a boondi (jhara) ladle from Bharat Bhai (remember him?) And I also researched how to get the effect of the edible camphor and discovered that a mixture of ground cloves and black cardamom can achieve this flavour…

Here goes the boondi laddoo…

Ingredients

2 cups besan

1 cup and a little extra water

A pinch of soda bicarb

1 tbsp rice flour

1 tbsp oil

A few drops of yellow food colour

To deep fry

Oil +2-3 tbsp ghee (to cheat the flavour)

For the syrup

2 ½ cups sugar

1 ¼ cup water

For the garnish

2-3 tbsp chopped cashews

2 tbsp raisins (I didn’t use any- as one of my girls detests them)

2 tbsp misri or crystal sugar

 ½ tsp freshly ground green cardamom

1-2  ground cloves

Method

Sift the besan and mix in the rice flour, colour and the oil. Add the water gradually making a smooth paste making sure there are no lumps. Keep covered for about 15-20 minutes.

In another pan, add the sugar and water and let it come to a boil, then turn the heat down and let the syrup simmer till it almost reaches a one thread consistency. Turn the heat off and add the cardamom and clove powder to the syrup. Keep it warm.

In a flat kadhai or wok, heat the oil and add the ghee, to give it flavour.

Now add a pinch of soda bicarb to the batter and mix well.

Test the batter by dropping a few drops into hot oil. If the drops fall into little balls with tails, the batter is too thick. If the balls are too light and full of holes and is oily, the batter is too watery. The perfect batter will fall into drops into the oil and form round boondis that are light and crisp. Adjust the consistency of the batter and then hold the boondi ladle (jhara) over the hot oil and pour some batter into it. Gently tap the sides of the ladle with a spoon, nudging the drops to fall into the oil.

Fry the boondis, batch by batch, until golden and remove them from the oil using a perforated spoon and drain in a bowl lined with kitchen paper. Once the excess oil is drained, add the boondi to the sugar syrup.

Fry the cashews in a little ghee and add to the boondi and syrup mixture. Add the misri or crystal sugar and raisins.

Let the boondi soak in the syrup for about an hour or so, until it cools down completely and seems very dry and fluffed. Grease your hands with a little ghee and roll the mixture into uniform sized balls or laddooooos!

Store in an airtight box, if any remain to see the light of the day.