Sunday Night Kitchen Post

It has been almost two months since we left our old kitchen and moved into the current one and slowly I am settling into its ways. I still get confused that the cutlery drawer is not to my right when I am making tea but on the left. On the right is the spice drawer which I keep opening absent minded looking for the odd spoon.

Also the sink faucet is the exact opposite of the standard for hot and cold. We can change it but haven't yet and once in a while I am thrown off by the left which is cold while right is hot ! This has helped me get further confused when I am visiting friend's where the faucet has the standard setting. So officially my brain is addled with which is which and now I can never trust myself to open a faucet and get water at the temperature I want.

But there are things I love about this new kitchen. The first is of course the sun, the sun which this side of the house gets in plenty, all through the day. Next is the lazy susan in the corner cabinet.I have always loved that arrangement in other homes and I really like it filled with all my spices.Also the fact that now I have an ample pantry right in the kitchen is a big bonus.

The kitchen as always is not entirely mine and shared by everyone. The girls do their homework and painting/coloring on the kitchen island all the time. I had this blank wall which I thought I would set up as a display of the girls' art work. Whatever picture they draw can be put into those frames and we can have fresh new art on the wall every week almost.Don't you think that is a great idea ? I am planning to do the same for their bedroom too. Earlier I had a cork board and the refrigerator was the major place for all art display. But the framing fills my walls and so serves double purpose.

As we put in our own touches and cook more I will post more pictures and I am sure you will grow to love this kitchen as will I.

Leaving you today with some links to enjoy

I loved this post of Pia's so much that her statement "Creativity is Subtraction" is etched in my mind.

This holiday I want to try my hand at baking cookies, simple ones, even probably nankhatai or nankatai. We will see.

A friend who is a talented designer, has worked with the weavers of South 24 Parganas to design and create a new line of sarees. Each of those pieces are so beautiful and the color palette is so rich and striking that you must take a look at her Facebook Page. Since the sarees are designed by her, each is a unique piece. You can e-mail her with questions about the sarees.

See you all soon with an easy Tomato soup just right for the cold weather here.

Thank You My Kitchen

This has been my kitchen for the longest time.8 years and 7 months to be precise.To be round and fair we can also say 9 years, given the few months that we had taken to close and move.

As a kid we moved houses and hence kitchens every 3-4 years. My father's job was as they said "transferable one" and we moved with the call of his duty. Since kitchen was not on the top 15 of my priorities those days it was amongst the things I missed least when we moved. I am sure my Ma had her own woeful stories about moving from large kitchens with huge windows to galley ones but of course then I never paid attention.

Now when I am the master of my own food, I can no longer say the same. I  remember distinctly the huge kitchen of the 1BR apartment I shared in Mumbai, the one in Bangalore which had a separate faucet for Cauvery water, the ample kitchens in the apartments in the US where I was thrilled to find the gas stove light up without a match stick. But of all these I love my current kitchen the best; the one that has survived me for all of 9 years, well almost. When I look back and count the years on my fingers this is the longest time I have cooked at a stretch and this is the longest time that this kitchen has been there to support me.

For 9 years or 8 years and 7 months to be exact, almost every morning I have been standing at the same spot, facing west towards the back splash that D had put up, making my tea. Some mornings it is so early that that the sky outside my window is still a slate gray and I have the kitchen lights on. On others, sunlight is streaming through the large windows facing south, bathing my little kitchen in light. I am always there at the same exact spot, the frayed red rug soft and almost tattered under my feet, the saucepan bubbling on the front burner of my gas stove.

In this kitchen I can close my eyes and reach out for spices and masalas in the wooden cabinets that abound. I know each of them personally. The liners on each of these shelves were cut and arranged by a dear friend 9 years ago and they still work well. The shelves were filled with jars, pots, stacks of  empty Yogurt containers exactly so with help of another and I have dared  not to change the order though I have had to throw out the yogurt containers on their insistence.Psssst...secret I still have some of them.

That cabinet, the one just above the sink hold my knick knacks that I use as props for the blog, the odd plate, the scalloped bowl, the lonely table mat. The bottom cabinet, the one right of the stove has colored plastic cups, lots of them, from IKEA. Those are the ones LS uses to make a juice stand or a coffee shop.

By the window, the breakfast nook as they say, is the table, a round wood top bought 12 years ago from K-mart. One of the first piece of furniture I owned in this country. We have had umpteen meals on that table for four. We have brought in extra chairs, rubbed shoulders and sat around it even when we had more than that for company. We have cut many cakes, lighted candles, arranged gifts and served buffet lunches and dinners right there. On most days I have arranged food on it and clicked pictures for the blog. And when we have been done with food, Big Sis has finished her homework on that same table while Little Sis has scribbled and made crayon marks on its surface.

My kitchen is more than a kitchen. For almost 9 years, it is the place which has seen my daughters grow, my friends come together to rejoice happy occasions and to share the not so happy ones, my mother and my ma-in-law cook their best dishes for their granddaughters. It has seen my Baba brewing the afternoon tea and my Father-in-law chopping vegetables. It has seen the husband man packing lunches for the girls and making scrumptious breakfast on the weekend. It has seen me and him fight, make up and argue.It has seen us admonish the girls, them speaking back and then saying sorry. It has seen spartan salads, rich mutton curries laced in elaichi and zafran, simple dals bubbling in stainless steel pots, turmeric stains from fragrant Ilish jhol, brown rice, white rice, sugary gokul pithe, puffed up and the ones that refused to puff white luchi, endless days of different varieties of pasta and lots and lots of pureed, mashed baby food.And it has seen me always.

Six years ago on a Fall evening it was here, standing in this kitchen, that I had resolved to start a blog. A food blog.

In a culture and environment ,where writing a blog, that too a food one is at the best considered a hobby, and any writing that does not come close to Marquez, Ghosh, Bibhutibhushan, Shibram or even Archer is considered frivolous; there have been times when writing up anecdotes and recipes with the hope that "someday when my daughter turns 22 will cook this " has seemed too far fetching. When I have waited for the girls to go to bed and yet again missed an episode of "Big Bang Theory" just so that I can take one more pic of Gajar Halwa, the whole process has seemed futile.

But then every time when I am back in my kitchen, trying to make even a simple Khichuri and screwing it up, I have felt the excitement, the beat of the food, the urge to blog. Even when the dish is mundane and there is nothing exemplary about the aroma, I have enjoyed the process. I have loved to put in words, the food I cook and eat. I am not really a very outgoing person but I have loved to interact with everyone, (barring the ones who want to sell me viagara), who reads this blog. I have loved writing the book as much as I love this blog.And I have realized I have stuck to this whole goddamn thing for the simple reason that I love doing it.This love.I owe it to my kitchen.

And next week I will miss my current muse. Next programming for "Bong Mom's CookBook" will be from a different kitchen in a different home . Hope the new kitchen adapts me, nurtures me, makes me her own and brings the same joy to my family and friends as this one did.

Thank You My Kitchen. You will always have a special place in my life.

PatiShapta on Sankranti -- with a touch of Nutella and Maple Syrup

I really had no intention to make a dessert again today. Sankranti, Columbus Day, Republic Day -- no, I wasn't going to celebrate them by making anything sweet. Enough !! My Ma though had other ideas. She had already made the coconut-kheer stuffing and was all ready to launch into Poush-Parbon frenzy.

"Nah, no more sweets. Do you realize how much of sugar we have consumed all through December?"

My Ma, a very sparse eater herself of course did not consume all that.But I was quiet adamant. Then she said she would make some moog-samali. I of course had no idea, what that was. She wanted to do a savory version of it which needed green peas.We had no green peas.

Then this happened. Late yesterday night, Poli sent a mail asking for a Pati Shapta recipe for her boys. I was filled with guilt. My girls deserved something sweet on Sankranti, I thought. And so do my parents. And well the husband. And maybe me too, a tiny bite. What is a tiny bite in fact in the bigger scheme of Poush Parbon.

The recipe is same as my old one. No rice flour this time. If you scroll down there I have updated the batter recipe.

Also I have smeared with nutella the inside of the pati-shapta because the kids love nutella more than the coconut-kheer thingy. Drizzled with some maple syrup these were soft, sweet delights for the new beginnings of a new season. Never mind that is just cold, winter here.

Pati Shapta Recipe


Gokul Pithe Recipe

Vegetable Chop or Bhejetebil Chop

Vegetable Chop or Bhejtebil Chop(sic!) is another popular snack from streets of Kolkata

My Mother having grown up in the mofussils, where everything from rosogolla to chingri'r chop(shrimp cutlet) was made at home, had an uncanny fear of Kolkata street food. Actually any street food.

All through the 80's, she stymied my attempts at street food with a vengeance that matched a NRI mother who washes her hands with Bisleri and rubs Purell before a meal at Flury's. She thought anything cooked and served along the streets could bring nothing but cholera, jaundice and disaster. My school days were thus spent, longingly watching the alu-tikki and chole chaatwala serving myriad of school girls in badly washed steel plates. All I was allowed to buy, once a month, was a packet of spiced up potato chips in a transparent plastic packet or a bar of Golden ice cream from the yellow ice cream cart.

It was her good fortune that we did not live in Kolkata or its suburbs where phuchka and telebhaja(fried stuff) by the road side was easier to find than a S23( a bus) in service. On our annual visits to my Dida's home in Kolkata, my Ma would ease a little and allow an alur chop here and a phuchka there. Those brief sojourns were so rare that the taste of those treats ached my memory until we came back to visit Dida next year.

My Ma however compensated for this behavior of hers by cooking a lot of those things which we were denied outside at home. She would make shingara, dim er devil, khasta kochuri and bhejetebil chop all through winter.

Once the Northern winds started blowing and it was time to take out the napthalene scented hand-knit sweaters and Kashmiri shawls; the deep red beet, flame orange carrots and green peas flooded the vegetable market.Those were the days my Mother made vegetable chop, lots of it. With the freshest and sweetest of beet and carrots, those chops would be delicious. If I am allowed to be totally honest, I will say that I still missed the chops fried in stale oil, dusted with grime and carrying the germs of cholera but my Mother's vegetable chops were the best you can do in a clinically hygienic condition.

Now while I had the vegetable chop down to the last peanut theoretically, I have always made it when my Ma is visiting us. Only that means she cooks the beet, the carrots, the potatoes, makes the stuffing, fries the chop while I eat them. My Ma thinks they are good for the kids, a good way to make them eat veggies she will say and so makes them quiet frequently while she is here. Once she had boarded her flight, I just make a stew with the same vegetables.

Last week however I made vegetable chops just by myself. I did not even think "kids", I only thought about myself and okay a little about the husband and how it will be nice to have some vegetable chops for breakfast for a change.

It is pretty easy and though involves some frying in gallons of oil is not too bad for you. You are eating vegetables you see. Yeah, keep chanting that. With some planning you can cook the vegetables beforehand and make the croquettes and refrigerate them for 4-5 days. That way you can fry up some as needed and enjoy them with a cup of chai.


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Vegetable Chop

I think this recipe made about 24-30 vegetable chops but I can never be sure. Also my chops were smaller in size than standard

First lets make the Bhaja Masla

Cumin Seeds -- 1/2 tsp
Fennel seeds -- 1/2 tsp
Corriander seeds -- 1/2 tsp
Clove -- 6
Green Elaichi -- 3
Cinnamon -- 1/2" stick
Peppercorn -- 12
Red chili -- 2-3
Bay leaf -- tiny

Roast the above on stove pop, cool and then grind to a fine powder. Do not char. Note: If you are feeling extremely lazy pop in toaster oven instead of stove top roasting. You can store this powder in a air-tight jar for months.You can use it to sprinkle on chutneys and make more chops.

Second --- We will work with the veggies, good stuff here.

Now we will chop the following vegetables in chunks
2 medium beet ,
2 carrot (if carrot is the thin kind use 4 else 2 should be fine),
2 large potato

Cook the above vegetables till they are mash-able. I usually cook them in the pressure cooker. Note: Sometimes I grate the beet instead of boiling it and then cook it while making the stuffing.

Once cooked, drain water and mash the vegetables. It is okay if the texture is little grainy and not totally smooth
Note: My Mother used to grate the beet and have her veggies a bit coarsely mashed, there shouldn't be any bite-able veggies but they can be a notch lower smooth.

Now heat a little oil in a Kadhai/Frying Pan

Roast 1/4 cup of halved peanuts, remove and keep aside

In the same oil add
2 tbsp of minced or grated ginger
3-4 green chilli chopped in rounds

Next add
the mashed vegetables,
3 tsp of Bhaja masla,
1/4-1/2 tsp of red Chili Powder,
salt to taste
sugar if needed

Saute the mashed veggies, mixing with the masala till the excess water dries up and the veggies come together, leaving the sides. Add 1 tbsp of finely chopped coriander leaves/dhone pata if you wish.Also add the roasted peanuts. Check to see the spices are right.
Note: If needed add 1-2 tbsp of bread crumbs or maida for binding.

If you have grated your beet instead of boiling it, add the grated beet to the pan before adding the mashed carrots and potatoes. Once the beet is cooked, add the mashed carrots+ potatoes and spices and follow the previous step.

When this mixture cools, grease your palms and fashion croquettes out of them. Add a golden raisin to each.
The usual shape is oblong or oval but I have made small slightly flattened balls.

Third -- Lets do some Coating

Vegetarian Coating

Make a batter of 1/3 cup of chickpea flour/besan + 4-5 tbsp of water. The batter should be thin, thinner than the pakori batter.

Dip the croquette/chop in above Besan mix, roll in seasoned breadcrumbs. Refrigerate the croquettes/chops for an hour. You could refrigerate these for about 4-5 days in a closed container. Only don't forget about them and go on a vacation. They need to be used sooner than later.



Egg Coating

I prefer this breading more than the former. I dredged the balls in all-purpose flour, dipped them in egg wash(2 eggs beaten with a tsp of water) and rolled them in bread crumbs. I then refrigerated them for a few hours/overnight before frying

Finally -- Now is the Frying Time

In a Kadhai heat enough oil for frying. Once the oil is hot, check if it is right temperature by putting a tiny piece of bread in it.

Roll the croquettes lightly again in seasoned breadcrumbs and fry in hot oil till golden brown. Remove with slotted spoon and keep aside in a plate lined with paper towels to drain excess oil.
Note : If you had added besan as a binder you might get a scent of besan in the chop. In that case fry a little more at medium heat till it is cooked through.

Sprinkle some chat masala or beet noon and serve with some ketchup and a salad of onion, cucumber.

Notes: First time Vegetable chop makers please read the note

1. There is two kind of Bhaja Masla that Bongs make. The one in the recipe is how my Ma, her Ma, me etc. does it. The second kind is one where Cumin Seeds + Dry red Chili is roasted on stove top and then grind to a powder.

2.The besan coating for the chop should be a VERY thin coating. It SHOULD NOT be thick as in a Alu Bonda/Vada.

3. If you do not like besan coating you can make a thin batter of white flour + water. You can also do dip in egg wash and then roll in breadcrumbs like here in Maacher Chop

4.My Ma-in-law grates the beet instead of boiling and mashing all veggies, that gives a nice texture to the chop.

5.Many people say that drying the mashed vegetables takes considerable amount of time. To avoid this, drain the carrots, beet and potatoes well and only then mash it when they cool a little

Updated on May15th, 2013: -- Recently I made a version of this same chop where I deviated from being completely niramish. To the mashed veggies I added some crispy fried onions(from a box). Also for the coating I dredged the balls in all-purpose flour, dipped them in egg wash(2 eggs beaten with a tsp of water) and rolled them in bread crumbs. I then refrigerated them for a few hours/overnight before frying. I clearly prefer this method.

Alu Seddho/Alu Bhaate -- Thanks for Mashed Potatoes

This Thanksgiving I am really thankful that BS does not have a Thanksgiving Feast at school.

Now don't get me wrong. Usually I have no problem with them, the feasts that is. Actually I love feasts more when they are hosted by a third party.

In all her pre-school years, the teacher would put up a sign up sheet behind the door a week before the party and the parents would pick anything from that list to get for the feast. The school was paranoid about food allergy in a good way and no cooked food from home was ever allowed. The list was always always made up of boxed or packaged items, juice, fruits and paper products. The school supplied the rest.

Her school since last year is no less paranoid about food and does not even accept home baked cake etc. for birthdays.

So last year when her teacher sent home a list a week before Thanksgiving with a tick and my name against Mashed Potatoes, I was flummoxed. With despair I looked at the Paper Products, Table Cloth, Juice boxes, Apple slices all there on the list but nary a tick for me on any of them but Mashed Potatoes.

Why me ? I said silently and soon after I said 20 "Hail Marys". I mean shouldn't I be thankful that after all it was only mashed potatoes and not a whole stuffed turkey.

And what after all is Mashed Potatoes ? Nothing but what in Bengali we call Alu Seddho and what I ate for breakfast with rice and ghee for the first eight years of my life until the doctor intervened.

Alu Seddho or Alu Bhaate with a hint of mustard oil, finely chopped red onion and green chili, served with steaming rice, light masoor dal and a spoonful of flavorful ghee is after all every Bengalis comfort food. My Ma could make it with her eyes closed. Why, even my Dad could make it with his eyes open and that speaks volumes about the ease of the dish.If I had doubts about mashed potatoes I would be putting my Bong upbringing to shame.

So I said "Hah" and promptly forgot all about it.

However as the day dawned near I started having my doubts. Logical doubts based on real life. Doubts like would BS's classmate take to mustard oil like fish takes to water ? Was it ok to put finely chopped raw red onion in food served to 20 odd kids, half of whom probably had never seen an onion in life ? What if their parents sued me because the green chili was too hot or the mustard oil caused them to sneeze ?

So, I sent her teacher a mail asking what kind of Mashed Potatoes they preferred, Asian-Indian or American-Indian ?

The teacher said I need not worry too much and I could pick any American recipe.

So, of course I googled and each recipe of mashed potato looked worse than the other. I mean, milk, heavy cream and cream cheese in your mashed potato ? Why would you need two sticks of butter to make a potato taste good, hello, who set up that rule? What was I doing here, trying to teach kids spell O-B-E-S-I-T-Y?

Chop potato in quarters. Boil in pressure cooker or in an open pan. You can also microwave. When the potatoes are done, cool and peel the skin. Mash the potatoes with a masher or your hands. Add few drops of mustard oil, very finely chopped red onion, very finely chopped green chili, salt to taste. Work everything together. Make uneven, rustic looking balls and serve with steaming rice and ghee.

So, there I am again, e-mailing the teacher, asking which exact recipe she wanted me to follow.

Was Alton Brown's mashed potatoes with garlic good enough ? Did she want cream cheese or just milk and butter was fine ? What potatoes did she think would cut the deal, Russet or Yukon Gold ? How many times should I wash my hand and was Bath & Body Anti-bacterial better than Purell ?Did she even know how much a bag of Yukon Gold cost ? I mean, what is wrong with Idaho, I make Alu Seddho with Idaho and they are very good.

At this point I am sure the teacher must have hollered a few choice words at me in confinement of her school's staff room. In a very polite mail, she suggested I just buy mashed potatoes at the super market and send it to school.

Trust me, till that time the e-mail arrived I did not know that they sold mashed potatoes in the Super Market. Yes, mashed potatoes in a tub or in a box, microwaveable and ready to eat. I could see before my eyes, Manju'r ma, my Ma's house help, losing an opportunity to be the next Martha Stewart simply because she did not know to package and market alu seddho. My eyes welled up at the opportunity lost and I cried fat tears right there at one of the aisles in the frozen section of Shop Rite or was it Wegman's.

Ok, I actually cried because there were so much to choose from. I came home with tons of mashed potato boxes, some with sweet potatoes, some with garlic and chive, some plain, some organic, some in tubs while others in flat boxes. The hubby not trusting my choices had made his own detour and came home with boxes which had dehydrated mashed potato flakes. Where do they need that now ? NASA maybe ?

Our dinner table overflowed with boxes of mashed potatoes of all kinds. We finally narrowed down to the kind we thought would serve the school right it's purpose and returned the others. Some for which we lost the receipt stayed in the pantry for the next 6 months till expiration date. Some stayed in the freezer and my Mom made delicious Alu'r chop with them.

And BS claimed she loved mashed potatoes the way her Didun made.

This year I don't remember the exact brand which we had sent to school and I would have to start all over again. But the school authorities had enough of my mails last year and this year second graders are not having a Thanksgiving feast.

Honestly, it is not my fault.

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Ok, and today, at around midnight, I baked this zebra cake from this wonderful blog. The midnight part is not as important as the "I baked" part. It was an easy cake to bake and was quiet good to eat too. I found it a little less sweet for the kids liking so next time I am going to up the sugar. For now I did a cream cheese and chocolate frosting to enhance the sweetness.

Happy ThanksGiving folks, if you are celebrating. If not, just be thankful.

What or Who is a Bong ?

Today, I did not want to write this post. I did not want to steal the light from The President's Health Care bill or from Apple who intend to end economic woes by bumping iPhones with the rich & famous. But then I am pro choice and if my readers choose to know "What is a Bong", or "Why I am a Bong", so be it.

In my 3& 1/2 years of blogging I have got several spam comments asking the same question, I have got e-mails which I have already answered and I have seen this blog being mentioned with "not what you are thinking" within quotes. I had decided to lie low and not come up with a clarification as to Why a "Bong Mom's Cookbook". But I think the time has come for you to know that I am NOT a hookah smoking, dopey Mom who cooks when she is not high and writes when she is. You might be disappointed by the truth but I can't help it.

To satisfy your curiosity my readers, this is a sketchy guide to a Bong, as known in the Indian parlance

Scientific Definition

Bong commonly refers to the Bengali Homo Sapiens (Latin: "wise man" or "knowing man"), the only extant member of the Homo genus of bipedal primates in Hominidae, the great ape family, native to the historic region of Bengal (now divided between Bangladesh and India) in South Asia.

They are considered an Indo-Aryan people although they are also descended from Mongolo-Dravidians, closely related to Austro-Asiatic, Dravidian, Assamese, Sinhalese and Munda peoples. As such, Bengalis are a homogeneous but considerably diverse ethnic group with heterogeneous origins.

Yeah, that helps a lot. If still interested please read this.

Why Bong and Not Bangali or Bengali ?

A Bangali used to be proud of being a Bangali and called himself thus in the times of Satyajit Ray, Chuni Goswami and even Tapas Pal.

With the Dot Com boom and bust, call center gimmick, Dadagiri and Bipasha Basu, The Bangali got westernized and decided to call themselves Bongs. This I think happened only with the people native to West Bengal. The people of Bangladesh still prefer to call themselves Bangali.

What do Bongs eat ?

Anything and everything as long as it is being followed up by Gelusil, Pudin Hara, Joan er Aarak or Nux Vom 30.

To know more about a Bong's staple diet you should visit a traditional Bong home on weekday morning between 7:00AM to 9:00AM. The Bong Male is forced to eat garam bhaat, dal, alu seddho, uchche bhaja and maach er jhol all hot off the stove before he leaves for opish. That is supposed to be the Bong's staple diet and it is a sacrilege if the earning member of the house leaves home without being fortified with this diet.

At all other times you can see this species grazing on phuchka, alu kabli, egg roll and tele bhaja.

How would I know if the middle aged Homo Sapien male I met today morning is a Bong (or a Bangali if you so prefer) ?

If any of the following is true, you have met The Bong

(a)This species was at your local fish market where he was very carefully analyzing the anatomy of various fishes through thick rimmed glasses

(b)The species on his first encounter regaled you with stories about his ambol(acid reflux) and choan dhekur( more reflux) all the while munching on the greasy egg roll that he just bought from a roadside cart.

(c) After being done with the fish or the egg roll as the case maybe, the species proceeds to enlighten you about the current state of Politiks in his state and discusses how Obama's healthcare bill is going to solve water problem in Midnapore. He might also point out how Mamata is going to protest against this with a Bangla Bandh.

How would I know if the middle aged Homo Sapien female I met at my daughter's school is a Bong (or a Bangali if you so prefer) ?

If any of the following is true, you have met The Bong Moms

(a)On first day of the kid's school and even later, this species was at the school an hour early for pickup or rather she was standing there from morning, waiting for school to get over looking harried, worried and visibly distressed.

(b)The species on her first encounter regaled you with stories about how her daughter/son refuses every morsel of food that is offered and how hard it is to feed her/him.

(c) The species then proceeds to inquire whether your child learns Robindro Shongeet and takes Math tuition, both being high up in the Bong parenting realm.

How would I know a Bong Blog if I read one ?

If any of the following is true, you have met The Bong Blogs

(a) The blog will usually be about food, if not a food blog it will mention food, adda, politiks, phootboll , cricket and food in that order

(b) The blog will have a lot of bh-a-a-t, which means lots of talk in thin air, none of which is of any use to anyone

(c) It might look like this

For a more detailed explanation read this Complete Guide by Dhoomketu.

This post will be up there on the Right side bar and so please refer to it when ever you wish. For now satisfy yourselves that I am a regular Bengali Mom from India who lives and blogs from the US.

Update on 03/24/2010: I did not know about the fire at Park Street, Kolkata until late last night. My deepest condolences to those who lost their lives in the Stephen Court Fire.

Haat e Bajar e -- to the Market(The Roundup)

I am very happy with wonderful response that the Haat e Bajar e series got. My Dad is sure in seventh heaven that his pictures have been much appreciated. Thanks to all of You. Mucho Gracias to the few who took time to dig up pictures and archived posts of more colorful and vibrant local markets from different corners of India. If any of you have any more to share please drop me a line or leave a comment. I am particularly intrigued by the Allepey stores on water that Happy Cook had mentioned.

Read Part I & Part II of this series

Today will be a round up of the markets from my fellow bloggers and readers.


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We will start off with a lovely Guest Post and Pictures by Sra of When My Soup Came Alive. The local market she visited in Pune will come alive through her words and pics.

A few months ago, I was assigned to visit Pune for a day. It was a field visit, almost literally. Part of my job was to visit the wholesale market there. After a sumptuous meal the previous night, which consisted of endless platters of kababs and ended way past midnight, we were woken up early in the morning and taken to Gul Tekdi market yard.



As with most markets, it was bustling with activity even at that early hour of 7 a.m. Lorries full of produce, with brightly coloured tarpaulin on them, had already rolled in and were in various stages of unloading. Our hosts led us through to the office where our meeting was being held, but not before we took some time to look around the place. This is a typical Indian vegetable market, and for those who do not know what to expect, can be quite an assault on the senses at this scale. There is much dirt, many tomatoes squashed under the feet of those in a rush, hay, cabbage leaves, cauliflower stalks and other vegetable refuse strewn around. The elements act on all this to produce a pungent and acrid smell that can be quite unbearable.


Sometimes, you can smell the rain in the soil that clings to the roots and stalks of produce that just that morning has been wrested from the earth. For good measure, you can see cows feeding off mounds of this green debris, and where cows are, manure shall follow. Of course, the cows (and sheep and other animals) are not peculiar to markets, though. They are everywhere in our country. Many years ago a city bus driver, I seem to recall, sacrificed a few lives, maybe even his own, when he swerved sharply and fell into the river, trying to avoid hitting a member of the bovine breed that ambled onto the bridge, directly in his path. Like this. But I digress. The vegetables are spread in heaps on sacking, and merchants frown on customers picking and choosing good specimens. The wholesale customer from the neigbourhood markets spread across the city, or the buyers for the restaurants and hotels will not bother with that, but if it's you and I shopping there for a good deal, we will have to be content with only the financial advantage. Some sellers use the traditional balance, some use modern electronic weighing machines. Some dispense with the sacking for plastic crates.




Some vegetables do not get the courtesy of even a gunny bag on which they can be spread, they are piled on the ground, as you can see in this picture. The greens here include fenugreek (foreground), coriander at the far back, amaranth (green and magenta) and dill.



See the stacks of huge leaves in this picture . I think they are arbi (taro root/colocaesia) leaves, used to make the wonderful patra (patravade, patrode), a steamed and fried delicacy that consists of besan paste rolled up in these leaves, popular along the Konkan coast right up to Gujarat. I've only ever had it thrice, once inviting a rather serious glance when I asked for a third piece, and most recently, about eight months ago at a friend's place in Queens, bought from an Indian grocery in Jackson Heights, thawed and microwaved and eaten to heart's content.



You will also see people hauling loads on their heads, and vendors from around the city coming here with their carts, filling them up with a variety of vegetables which they will sell for a profit in other localities for the next few hours. In any Indian market, there will be much shrill and spirited bargaining. (next few images). In this particular Pune market, vegetables and fruit come in from a 100 km radius, and the early morning's din evens out to a more measured buzz by noon, when, I remember being told, the market is closed for the day.


Next is beautiful Pictures of Mysore Market from Asha of Foodies Hope



She says "When I was in India last year, I went to see the Mysore vegetable market as it holds many memories of childhood strolls there with my parents and that little bakery where I used to savory snacks and that little bookstore I used to run to buy story books". The Mysore Market sure looks clean and colorful, a place that I would have cherished similar memories of.


Pictures of her home town local grocery seller from Swagata, a reader who took time to send me these photos by mail. Do you see the bicycle laden with tender coconuts in the second pic ? I love that one.








Kalyan of Finely Chopped shares his Mumbai Fish Market stories. He writes "Then I chanced upon Pushpa (barely visible behind a cutomer in the picture) and her mother (in the dark sari in the picture below) at one corner of the market. As they say, when it comes to fish it is all about finding the right woman. And I did! Pushpa and her mom sell some of the best fish that we have bought." Read his post for a thorough guide to buying fish in Mumbai. Some of his are pics here







A beautiful Photo Essay of a vegetable market from Kolhapur home of Nupur of One Hot Stove.She says about a smiling old lady posing with a cauliflower, "That beautiful, bright and huge cauliflower certainly deserves to be shown off! Selling vegetables is hard work and a business with a very low profit margin and no retirement plan; this lady is still working when she looks like she deserves to retire and get some rest." The post has some great pictures, head over to see what it looks like to be in a local market in the west coast of India.

Haat e Bajar e -- to the Market (II)

The Smiling Vegetable Seller

As we moved places the character of the haat changed, some places they were more sunny and open air, at others they were very clean and neat but their very basic underlying characteristics remained same. They also gave way to more local bazars, vegetable sellers sitting at residential road corners with their vegetables was a common sight.

Flowers for Prayer share a spot with Vegetables for Mankind

My Baba now preferred them than going to the haat. He would get everything he wanted right around the street corner. These small vendors did not have a complex supply chain system. The farmers in the nearby villages and suburbs took the early morning local train and brought their produce to a nearby train station. The neighborhood vegetable sellers sourced the produce directly from these farmers and sold it to the customers.


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The Not too Happy Fruit Seller

With the IT boom pushing middle class Indians towards more prosperity, the retail industry in India slowly started changing. Organized retailing, though late has started encroaching the Indian market and more and more air conditioned super markets selling grocery and vegetables are sprouting in the metros. Interestingly Nilgiri's Super Markets are the oldest retail chain in India, going back as far as 1904.

The Fish Guy by the Road

I myself hadn't seen an air conditioned grocery market until I moved to B'lore in the late nineties. I was so taken by them that I would go to Nilgiris or Food World just to pick up some small stuff. Vegetables there were too expensive by my standard but I loved their ambiance as did many of my generation. For the freshest of veggies we would make once a week trip to the Madiwala Bajar on weekends which had the same character and earthiness as the haat of my childhood but only in Kannada.

The Push Cart Vegetable Vendor or the Thela

Convenience shopping in the form of Supermarkets must surely be a boon for a lot of the urban Indian population who want to shop in luxury and comfort. They might not be the best thing for the small farmers, the kirana stores(local grocers) and the fruit & vegetable seller at the corner though. With big names coming in to the retail grocery chains they are able to support a more elaborate supply chain management system which pushes the customers still further away from the producer.

Following are some pics of a wholesale bazaar that Sra of When My Soup Came Alive sent me. Most of the vegetables sold here come from a 100km radius, she says.

Birds Eye View of the Market

In spite of the big names of the retail chains, my Dad and most of his generation will still think twice before paying for a bunch of Asparagus at Reliance fresh. He prefers the vegetable seller round the corner as do 60% of the Indian population living in suburbs and villages.

What do you prefer ?

Further Read on Organized Retailing in India

Photos courtesy of my Dad from India. I guess these are his favorite sellers.

Haat e Bajar e -- to the Market (I)

The early morning ritual on most days were very similar for middle class Bengali Men in the late 70's and 80's. A cup of tea, a quick browse through crackling pages of the Statesman or the limp ones of AnandaBazar and then a stroll to the nearby bajar for the fresh vegetables and fish of the day. Since we were not in Bengal at that time, it was a little different in our home. If I rewind to a morning back long long back, I see my Baba or Kaku or my Grandpa walking us to the school bus stop and then strolling on to the haat, see I said haat and not bajar, with two cloth bags and a reusable plastic bag for fish.

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The haat, if defined in words, is a weekly marketplace where producers and vendors bring in their produce or products, either directly or through intermediaries to sell to the customers. But that is just words. That is fancy enough to describe Dilli Haat. But there was a much more intense social aspect to haat which can not be defined and you need to go to one of the smaller towns and scour around for a real haat to understand.

Garlic and Dry Red Chili

The haat in my home town was not a weekly thing, it was an every day semi permanent affair. Most of the fish, fresh fruit and vegetable vendors would wrap up and go home when the sun went higher up and the customers were few. The more permanent ones like the potato seller or the one with garlic and mounds of dry red chilis lingered on till the late afternoon. They would take a quick nap on a jute bag laid out on concrete, play a round of cards if the heat hung heavy and humid for sleep, chat and wait, wait for people to come by.

Dusty Potatoes

My Baba would occasionally take me to the haat, on weekends. I wouldn't say I enjoyed it a lot, it wasn't an open air haat and it was a bit dingy. Smells hung in cloisters. The sharp acidic smell of green lemon, the raw smell of squished tomatoes, smoky musty smell of dried turmeric and dry red chili mingled with the sweat and dust. It wasn't very clean either, with rotting leaves under the feet and squashed tomatoes on the pathway, you had to be careful about your step.

Brinjal Corner

Baba had his own choice set of sellers and he would proceed towards them, neglecting the cries of others, touting better cheaper produce. He had a relation set up with his potato seller and he wouldn't break the tie for such trifles.

Green Lemon

The haat was zonal, divided into zones according to the produce. The fresh vegetables were on the fringes, the fish sellers were all together, the dusty potatoes and onions were towards the center. It was hard competition since you were selling lemons as green and juicy as your rival sitting right there at your elbow. I still do not know how they survived and maintained a friendly relationship sitting close together and selling exactly similar products.

As we went around picking things, talking, discussing the days news with the sellers, the cloth bags would get fuller. Depending on the season, there would be tender drumsticks peeping out or fresh bunches of coriander. And then we would go home, not worrying about whether the vegetables had pesticide or their genes were modified by science but whether Ma would appreciate the days pick or scorn at our choices.

If you have a local Food Market, a bazaar or a haat near where you live, send me a pic or post on your own blog and leave a comment.


Pic Courtesy my Dad from the haat of my childhood hometown. All theses photos were taken by him

Shuddh Videshi Ghee ar Alu Sheddo

I made Ghee, at home, with my own hands. No I didn't milk the cow or anything and I used a shortcut, but if we put that aside, I made Ghee in bold letters.

With that I graduate from a regular Mom to the ubiquitous Aunty-ji. Pleez do consult me with all your gharelu(household) problems including mom-in-law , husband , bai and water shortage, and of course how to make ghee. That I can't make decent phulkas shall not be discussed in this post.

So I never made ghee @ home before. Never needed to. My ma and ma-in-law took it upon themselves to send home made shuddh desi ghee for Big Sis S till she turned 3. After that it was store bought which was used sparingly since we are not big time ghee eaters. Now Baby A has started on solids and it was time to introduce fat to her. There was no grandma around and Mom found out that making shuddh videshi ghee was not difficult at all, much easier than the cow's milk --> boil milk to gather the cream on top --> save the top cream from milk for days --> make desi ghee route

So this is what Baby A's Mom did to make glorious golden ghee


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Making Ghee

In a heavy bottomed pot/vessel/pan place 4 sticks of organic unsalted butter. At medium heat let the butter melt. There will be foaming and bubbling while the butter melts but soon this will subside. Reduce heat to low and simmer uncovered. Stir intermittently. Gradually you will see milk-solids turning from beige to brown and settling down at the bottom while a clear transparent golden liquid remains at top. Once the milk solids turn a deep shade of brown turn off the heat. Note: The point at which you turn off the heat is critical, too little or too much is not desired. Keep watch and don't burn the milk-solid. Also keep the heat at low and don't try to hasten the process by turning heat to high.

Do not disturb the vessel/pot/pan and let the milk solids settle down at the bottom while only the clear liquid remains at the top.

Decant the liquid by tipping the vessel gently and collecting the liquid in a clean dry glass jar. You can also use a cheese cloth or any clean cotton cloth for this purpose

The golden liquid that you just collected is precious ghee. Smell. Heaven.

Let the ghee come to room temperature. Close the jar tight and store at room temperature. If ghee is not made correctly i.e. cooked too little it tends to spoil or sour, but if made correctly it stores well at room temperature

Now we Bengalis do not throw away anything that is edible and the deep brown milk solids that remain at the end of the ghee making process are a delicacy for us. We call it cha(n)chi (ch as in chair and then a nasal sound for n) and eat it mixed with plain white rice, salt and mashed potatoes. Strangely while I do remember the smell of ghee from my childhood, more than the ghee I remember this rich brown "leftover" granules which we used to savor mixed with white rice.

So while the home was fragrant with the smell of ghee we enjoyed a rare dinner of rice, alu sheddo with finely chopped onions and green chillies and dollops of ghee & cha(n)chi.

To make alu sheddo(siddho), boil potatoes skin on till done. Hold under running water and peel the potato. Mash with back of a spatula. Add little mustard oil, finely chopped red onion, finely chopped green chilli and salt. Now with clean hands work all of this in the potato and make smooth rounds of mashed potato. Enjoy this with white rice and dollops of golden ghee.

According to Ayurveda, Ghee builds the aura, makes all the organs soft, builds up the internal juices of the body-Rasa, which are destroyed by aging and increases the most refined element of digestion-Shukra or Ojas, the underlying basis of all immunity and the “essence of all bodily tissues”. Ghee is known to increase intelligence--Dhi, refine the intellect-Buddhi and improve the memory-Smrti.

A little bit of ghee added to your food boosts the flavor and if that ghee is home made the taste triples. So like me if you do not use ghee as a cooking medium, occasionally add half a tsp of ghee just before finishing off your cooking and savor the goodness of ghee.