Showing posts with label Desi Pundit. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Desi Pundit. Show all posts

Friday, June 06, 2014

Beguni -- ar Ashare Goppo




Eggplant coated in a batter of chickpea flour and deep fried

This post was first posted in 2010. It is being reposted.

The rain had started out strong, not meek like other days. Huge blobs of water, hit the warm earth rapidly, with an urgency to quench out its parched dryness. The rain was now hitting down hard on her window, with that drumming sound, she loved about rains.

Outside the windows, the world seemed painted by Monet. She could hardly make out anything, even the Krishnachura by Bubai's house with all its red flowers was barely discernible. She sighed and returned to the open pages of the Resnick-Halliday, trying to figure out the resonant frequency of some stupid string of length L while the rain drummed on merrily on her windows.

"I will put these up for drying in your room", Ma said, a pile of still wet clothes on her arm, droplets of water clinging on to her jet black strands. Not waiting for a response, Ma started putting up a makeshift clothes line, right above her study desk. As the fan whirred slowly trying to dry out the clothes she sat beneath Dada's dancing pajama legs still trying to figure out the string.

She could hear Ma in the kitchen now, the pots clinging, the whoosh of water down the sink. And then she could feel the sharp smell of Mustard up her nostrils. The hot oil now hissed as something hit and then there was the familiar sound of "chyank-chok", repetitive it went, the same rhythm, a "chyank" followed by a "chonk". Ma was making Beguni, brinjal slices dipped in a chickpea flour batter and fried crisp. There would be Khichuri and Beguni for lunch, a rainy day staple. She hated brinjal and didn't care much for a Khichuri. But Ma would make an omlette for her, even one for Dada, she knew and smiled to herself.

"PING"!! The sound startled her.

She looked up and outside the huge glass window, the rain had trickled down to a drizzle now. The lights on the Empire State building glowed against the gray slated sky.
She looked back at her computer. Her husband was on the IM.

He wrote, " So shall I get some eggplants? what about Beguni and Khichuri tonight ?"

Smiling she gathered her laptop and her belongings. She didn't want to miss the 6:15 subway home.

***********


This is my first attempt at Food Fiction inspired by the fantastic tales of Kalyan@Finely Chopped. I often write about the past in my posts. The past is not perfect, the present more not so. While I write my regular posts, I stick to the reality, the truth, I don't transcend the fine line from reality to fiction. But this category of Food Fiction, lets me mingle my memories with bits of imagination, so the emotions and the nostalgia is still there but also there is a little bit of the author's creative mind in play.

*Ashare Goppo == Monsoon Tales.Depending on its usage it also means "made up tales"




Beguni or eggplant slices dipped in a chickpea flour batter and then deep fried is a long time Bengali favorite. Actually anything deep fried is a popular Bengali or for that matter popular Indian snack. With Bongs, the thing is they adore their eggplants and so not being satisfied by Begun Bhaja alone they go a step ahead to make Beguni.

The Beguni is a popular side kick to the Khichuri on rainy days and that is how we had it last week amidst pouring rain. If it is a high-dry day and no one wants Khichuri, Beguni is still very much welcome as an evening snack with muri aka Puffed Rice or as one of the fried veggies accompanying Dal for Lunch.



Read more...






Beguni -- Batter coated eggplant fritters


Makes about 20 small begunis

What You Need

Eggplant ~ Eggplant chopped in thin rounds or semi circles. Depending on the kind of eggplant you are using, chop about 20-25 mini rounds and semicircles

Chickpea Flour/Besan ~ 1 cup
Water ~ 3/4 cup
Baking Powder ~ 1/4 tsp
Red Chili Powder ~ 1/2 tsp
Rice Flour ~ 1 tbsp
Salt ~ to taste

Chaat masala -- for sprinkling on the fritters(optional)

Oil ~ for deep Frying

Update: As one of the readers said, instead of Rice Flour you can also add 1-2 tsp of poppy seeds to the batter for a crunch. Also a little Kalonji/Nigella seeds in the batter may be added for an alternate version.

How I Did It

Wash the eggplant well and chop in thin rounds or semi circle. Smear with turmeric and salt and keep aside for 10 -15 mins




Make a batter of chickpea flour with all the ingredients listed under batter. Add water gradually to make a batter as thick as a Pakoda batter.

Heat Oil for deep frying in a Kadhai









Dip the eggplant slices in the chickpea flour batter so that it is uniformly coated and then gently slide into the hot oil. Fry till golden brown on both sides. Remove with a slotted spoon and drain on a paper towel.

Sprinkle some Chaat Masala on the Beguni for that additional zing.

Similar Recipes:

Alur Chop ar Muri -- also has a khichuri recipe in there

Thursday, June 10, 2010

Chocolate Brownies for a BirthDay





Tomorrow is Anu's birthday. Anu, her first born. It has been 8 years since that snowy day in Boston.The snow had been heavy that day, almost 4 inches had accumulated by noon. Her doctor, Dr.Richardson, could make it only 3 hours after the scheduled time of her C-section. Three whole hours after the time her Mother-in-law had deemed the most auspicious.

It didn't matter though. Nothing did except that a baby was arriving in their life that day, albeit three hours late.




She started taking out the flour, the eggs, the butter to melt, the brown sugar


When the Doctor finally congratulated and the nurse brought the wailing baby wrapped in a white hospital blanket with blue borders all she had felt was relief, a culmination of the journey she and her husband had undertaken over the years. Yes, that is what it was, relieved, tired and nauseous is what she had felt even later in that bright wallpapered room. When had the love come in, the worry, the protectiveness, the eagerness to change a diaper, wipe a snot, the enthusiasm to drive to a swim class and then the ballet ? She wasn't sure, they had just crept in as she folded the laundry, she guessed.




She took out Anu's favorite chocolate sprinkles and the Hershey Cocoa Powder


"Rrrrrrring", the phone went, in the monotonous tone, jolting her out of her reverie. She ignored it, thinking of the pile of work needed to be done before her husband and daughter came back from the piano class.




The sugar goes into the melted butter, mixed to be together


The phone went "Rrrrrrrrring" again. It was Ma, she was sure. Even after a decade Ma could never keep track of the time difference between the far east and west. She must be calling to wish Anu a day early. If told she would say, "Aaajkei to unish, ekhankar hisebe or jomnodin hoye geche" (Today is the 19th here, it is already her birth date in my part of the world")




Two eggs into the wet mix. A tsp of vanilla for the sweet smell


"Hello AnuMoni, aaj tomar jonmodin (Hello Anu Moni, today is your Birthday)", Ma said, without even waiting to hear the voice on the other end.

"This is me Ma, Anu is out and it is not even her birthday today, not until tomorrow", she said.

"Amader ekhane unish hoye geche (It is already the 19th here)", Ma continued, obstinacy and hurt in her voice. Ma had wanted to be there, to welcome her first granddaughter 8 years ago. But the straw haired, pale faced officer at the US Consulate in Kolkata thought otherwise. He refused Ma a visa. One stamp and a grandmother was denied the happiness of being united with her first grandchild.Ma still carried that grievance and some more.




The Flour, the coccoa powder, the baking powder and a pinch of salt. Dry into wet


"Paayesh ta baniye rekhechis? Kal to ar shomoy pabi na"(Did you make the Paayesh, you won't get time tomorrow), Ma asked.

"You know Anu doesn't even like Paayesh. What is the point ? I am sending cupcakes for her school tomorrow and at home I will make some chocolate brownies", she said

"Jonmodin e ektu paayesh banabi na. Paayesh ta shubho ( Paayesh brings good luck. Won't you make even a little on her birthday)", she could imagine her Ma sitting by the black telephone, a cup of tea in hand, her brows furrowed while the maid swept around the morning dust with a broom. Her Ma trying to send across good wishes over the oceans, trying to maintain the age old traditions, she steadfastly refused.

"Dekhbo (I will see)", she said. She didn't want to argue any more. There was no time really. She wouldn't make the paayesh, she didn't have hours to stir and thicken milk, to make a dessert her daughter would not even touch.




Mix till each component loses its own identity to be one


Busily she started taking out the flour, the eggs, the butter to melt, the Hershey cocoa powder. This was an easy recipe, the brownies would be in the oven by the time Anu was back.

She melted the butter and added the fine sugar, stirring with a steady hand, willing the sugar to dissolve.




She cranked up the oven to 350F. Greased and floured an 8 inch square pan and lined with butter paper. Poured the batter into the baking dish, smoothing out the top. Slivers of almonds placed gingerly on the surface would look lovely but Anu hated almonds



On her birthday and Dada's, Ma would be up early, very early. The Milkman would be there early too. Ma would have told him to get an extra liter of milk, with a special request to keep it water free because paayesh had to be made, there was a birthday to be celebrated. The maid would have scrubbed and washed the deep bottomed brass pot, the day before. It would be on the stove, gleaming as it caught first rays of the morning sun.




The brownies baked in preheated oven for 30 minutes.


Ma would pour out the pristine white milk, still warm, into the pot. A few tej pata and fragrant whole green cardamom would be thrown in. And then Ma would stir and stir, careful so that the milk did not boil over, careful so as to not scald the bottom of the pan. She wouldn't utter a word as she did so. For this was sacred, the paayesh would be first offered to the Gods, requesting blessing for the birthday child from the unknown.

As the milk thickened, she would put in a handful of gobindo bhog chaal, the short grained rice, smeared in ghee. The rice spread its fragrance as it cooked. Everything else in the house would stop that morning. Baba did not get his tea, breakfast got delayed and the maid was asked to come back later as the paayesh simmered on the stove and Ma stood watchful over it.

It would take more than an hour for the payyesh to come to the right thickness. And then Ma would take it off the heat and add the patali, the khejur gur, fresh and deep brown if it was dada's birthday in winter. The whole house would be infused with that rich, sweet smell, that reminded you of cold winter mornings and dew drops clinging on to the leaves. The thick paayesh studded with golden raisins would be kept in the Puja room till the Gods had their fill. And then Ma would bring in bowlfuls for her and Dada in silver bowls, scalloped along the edges, saved for special occasions.

She never liked Paayesh, she didn't like anything sweet, she would refuse to have more than a spoonful of that dedicated love. Dada would gorge on it.





Suddenly she craved some of her Ma's paayesh, bowlful of sweet creamy paayesh with plump golden raisins made perfect with time. The warm, chocolate smell of the brownie did nothing to satisfy that craving.Sighing she took out the milk and last of her patali from the refrigerator. Maybe two decades later, Anu would crave paayesh some day. Till then she would just keep the house smelling fragrant on this special winter evening.The blessings from her forefathers would pass on.

This is a part of my Food Fiction series. Anu is not my daughter, it is NOT my daughter's birthday, this IS fiction. It might seem strange but it is the simplest food that has all the fiction entwined around it. This post goes to Of Chalks and Chopsticks -- 2nd Edition an event started by Aqua and this time hosted by Me. What is your Food Story ? I won't be doing round up until Sunday, so if you are running late, send me your entry, I am waiting.


******************




Read more...







Here is the recipe for Khejur Gur er Paayesh

Here is Paayesh with Sugar

Today's dark, decadent, delicious chocolate brownies are from Sailu's Kitchen. Thanks Sailaja.
BS, deserves a special mention for this one, since she not only helped me bake, she also helped me take the pictures. We baked yesterday night and since I have no night time lighting equipment, BS held a flashlight, so that I could take my pics.

Chocolate Brownies



What You Need


All Purpose Flour ~ 1/2 cup
Unsweetened Cocoa Powder ~ 1/3 cup
Baking Powder ~ 1/4 tsp
Salt ~ 1/4 tsp or a pinch

Butter ~ 1/2 cup i.e. 1 stick
Brown sugar ~ 1/2 cup
Regular Fine Sugar ~ 1/2 cup


Eggs ~ 2
Vanilla extract ~ 1 tsp

Milk ~ 2 tsp(if needed)

How I Did It

Preheat oven to 350F. Grease and flour an 8 inch square pan and line with butter paper. I placed an aluminum foil inside my square pan and greased it.

Put butter in a microwave safe bowl and zap it for a minute so that it softens. Stir in the sugar. Mix with a whisk for 2-3 minutes.

Whisk in eggs, one after the other and add the vanilla essence. Beat with whisk or hand mixer.

Add the dry ingreds i.e. cocoa, flour, salt and baking powder into the wet mix until no trace of flour is left. Mix using a spatula. I had to add 2 tsp of milk at this point as my batter was very thick.

Spread batter into prepared pan. Smooth out the top. Add the chocolate sprinkles if you want.

Bake in preheated oven for 30 minutes. Do not overcook. After 25-30 mins, put in a knife to see if the brownies are done.

Cool on a wire rack. Cut into squares at room temperature and serve with cold ice cream. Store in an airtight container. Warm while serving.

Tuesday, June 08, 2010

Quick Egg Pulao





If you have noticed I am on Twitter. But I don't Tweet all that much.

I want to. But I can't. Every morning I try to think something intelligent, or witty, or intelligent and witty, so that I can tweet it. But I can't. Nothing remotely clever pops up in my mind.

All I can think of is things like "I washed my hair today. It smells nice". But I don't tweet that. Why would anyone want to know, I think. Why, even the husband does not have time to stop and smell my hair, how can I expect 75 million Twitterers to be enlightened by that piece of news.

I can say how my morning was, how I drank my tea with two multigrain nabisco crackers, crackers because my stash of Marie and Parle G is depleted, depleted as in it is zero now. So until I go to the Indian Grocers and get my next supply of Britannia Marie and Parle G, I am stuck with multigrain crackers,which taste like cardboard but not as bad as cardboard, they are easily digestible, cardboard is not.

There, a vital piece of my personal life could be out there but twitter does not allow more than 140 characters. I am sure Twitter's founder Dorsey was scarred for life by a child like BS. You ask BS how her day was and you are stuck for the next hour, listening to how many times she scrubbed her hand with Purell in school.

"Keep it short", I tell her. "Give me the central idea", I say. "You will never be able to Tweet. People have no time these days to listen to long prattles. They spend it describing life in several 140 character snippets", I want to say.

LS, I think would make a good Tweeterer. Her sentences are short, 3 words at the most, rest is action, she can do video tweets.





So I thought I will ask a question instead, on tweeter and here. A simple 10 word question.

"Why does my rice tend to break in a Pulao?"

Why, even if the Pulao turns out tasting really good, some of the rice grains break. Why, my Dad asks, how I managed to break the rice grains as he thinks that is what made the Pulao tasty.

Is it something to do with the brand of rice I buy, for it is one of the cheaper ones. I think I have clinched a deal or something if I pick up a cheaper brand of rice, the kinds which say "Buy 1, get 2 free".

But if it is the brand, how come the grains remain perfect when my Mom makes a Pulao. I could ask her this question but I want to get as many opinions as possible. I also want to Tweet.

So please tell me here or on Twitter, "Why does my rice tend to break in a Pulao?"

After you are done, you won't have much time, so make this quick Egg Pulao, which is easy and totally delicious, broken rice or not. Kids will love this one, for once BS does. Ok, and she also makes a great Raita to go with it.


Read more...





Quick Egg Pulao



Make a paste of

1 medium onion
4 cloves of garlic
1" peeled and chopped ginger
1/2 cup of corriander
8-10 mint leaves
Note: Add very little water while making this paste, maybe 1-2 tsp

Wash 2 & 1/2 cups of rice in several changes of water and spread out to dry. This is my Mom's tip, I usually have no patience to dry the rice. But she says that the rice needs to be dry else it will break.

Heat Oil + 1/2 tsp Ghee in a flat, heavy bottomed pan

Temper the oil with 4 cloves, 5 cardamom, 2" cinnamon stick and 2 small bay leaves

Add the paste you made and fry till the masala is cooked. Any excess water should be evaporated and there will be oil seeping out of the edges of the masala

Add 1 cup of chopped mixed vegetables. It can be beans, carrots, peas etc. I added 1 cup of frozen corn, carrots and peas. Fry the vegetables for 3-4 minutes.

Add 1 tsp of Corriander Powder, 1/2 tsp of Garam masala powder and fry for a minute or so

Add the rice and fry for the next couple of minutes

Add 41/2-5 cups of water for 2&1/2 cups of rice. Add salt to taste. Let the water come to a boil. Once the water has come to a boil, reduce heat to low and cover and cook the rice.

While the rice is cooking boil 4 eggs in a separate pan. When eggs are boiled, cool and peel them. Cut egg in slices. Heat a little oil in a pan. Add 1/4 cup of chopped onions and fry till onion is brown. Add the egg slices, 1/2 tsp of Kashmiri Mirch, little salt and fry the egg slices for 2-3 minutes

Once the rice is done, add the fried egg mix on top and mix gently. Sprinkle some chopped coriander leaves and 1/2 tsp of Garam Masala powder. Cover and let it sit till you serve with a raita.

Similar Recipes:

Soy Peas Pulao

Soy Mushroom Pulao

Mint Rice -- Brown Rice


Daliya Pulao


Trivia: Here are some pictures from the book Hungry Planet, that I thought I would share with you. Click here to see What The World Eats.

Monday, May 17, 2010

Daler Bora -- Lentil Fritters




Has anyone been following "Along the Grand Trunk Road" on NPR ? It was last week that I heard first of the series when Philip Reeves started out on his journey from Calcutta and spent a good few hours searching for the start of the road, with a banter typical of Calcutta on the background.

For a route of such enormous historical stature, the Grand Trunk Road makes a surprisingly modest start to its journey across the breadth of northern India, through Pakistan to the Hindu Kush.

Maps suggest that the road sprouts out of the heart of India's great eastern city, Calcutta (also known as Kolkata), not far from the banks of the mighty Hooghly River, a distributary of the Ganges.

But if you go there -- as NPR did, at the outset of our trip along this ancient highway -- the starting point is not particularly easy to find.

Residents of Calcutta love nothing better than a good debate; the city's famous for its militant left-wing political activism.

Stop in the street and ask local residents where the road begins, and they will happily launch into a lengthy argument on the subject.

We were finally directed to a large banyan tree, beside a railway crossing, where a small throng of truck drivers were sitting in the shade, drinking tea out of clay cups, and playing cards. There was a consensus among the drivers that we had found the right place -- the spot where the Grand Trunk Road began during British colonial rule when Calcutta was the imperial capital.


I couldn't follow the series on the air waves thereafter but I am reading it on their site.

On May 14, NPR was at the city of Aligarh along the G.T Road and they threw a very pertinent question. In India, Can Schools offer a path out of Poverty ? Millions of Indians definitely think so and education is highly rated amongst the mass but the Government obviously thinks otherwise and very little thought is given to public education.



India has some stellar educational institutions. The government-supported Indian Institutes of Technology churn out thousands of world-class engineers every year.

The fields of medicine and business have similar elite colleges. Hundreds of thousands more young men and women graduate from colleges and universities just a rung or two below in terms of excellence.

Yet as students toil in classrooms and coaching centers, desperate to get into these elite institutes, even larger numbers of Indian youths barely get a start. Last year, UNICEF estimated that about 8 million Indian children between the ages of 6 and 14 were not in school.

And those that do attend are educated at government-run primary schools like the one in Nandpur Pala, a village just outside the city of Aligarh on the Grand Trunk Road. We visited the school as part of NPR's series of stories on the lives of people living along the route that crosses India and Pakistan


Isn't that so true ? In a country where education holds such high esteem, it seems abstruse that literacy rate is so low . And even getting a primary education when you can modestly afford it, is not easy either.

The other day someone in the family who lives in the technology hub in the southern part of India was discussing the lengths they had to go to get their two year old admitted to a reputed school. The reputed school is one of the few which do not demand huge sums of donation and so has a stringent entry policy. The two year old was interviewed by a posse of 4 teachers to be admitted into what but a 2 hours play class.

I am sure my kids would be illiterate if they were in present day India.No way would I allow 2 year olds be asked questions on color, creed, alphabet or animals. Yeah, I might grill them on such things but not any stranger throwing such stuff at innocent minds, thank you.

Follow the series here, I am sure there will be some very nice moments along the road.

********



There is nothing great about Daler Bora or Lentil fritters. Every cuisine has its own version of it. Simple delights to tide you on rough days.





What is different about today's dal bora is how I made them, using a strange contraption that looks like an instrument used by aliens in 6000BC and later excavated from Harappa. It was this, this and this and this that played a major role in me ordering this strange stuff for only $10 on the internet. Yeah, they sell such relics from the past on the internet and call it Dutch with a still stranger name, ebelskeiver pan.

You would think there is a link between the Dravidians and the Dutch, yeah more similarity than the "D", for this same Ebelskeiver pan is popular in Southern India as the Appe pan or the Paniyaram Pan( a staple in the South Indian kitchen as my friend indosungod says).

I had never ever heard or seen such a thing in all my life in India and so though I bought it in December, it sat uptight and conscious waiting to be of any service.. And then this gave me the push and since then I have been on a roll. I have made pakodis and fritters and all kind of fried stuff that I would normally not make much.

With this pan my oil usage was way less. I did not have to heat a whole lot of oil for frying only to be thrown out after use. Also my pakodis/ boras/fritters were tiny and cute which meant we could eat more of them thinking we were doing portion control.

This time it was the very Bangali Dal er Bora made in the Southie Appe Pan, something like Mani Ratnam making a Tollywood(Bengal's Holywood) movie.


Read more...






Daler Bora/Lentil Fritters







Soak 1/2 cup of Matar Dal(split peas) & 1/2 cup of red Masoor Dal in water for half an hour. If you want only Musur Dal er bora, You can increase the masoor and decrease the Matar till Matar Dal becomes 0 cup. If you don't have matar dal use chana dal.

In the blender add

the soaked lentils
1" piece of peeled and chopped ginger
3-4 green chili
1/2 cup of water

and make a smooth paste.

Add salt to taste to this paste. If you wish add 1 tsp of roasted cumin powder . Since I was making niramish bora I did not add any onions. Ok to tell the truth I forgot and decided it was a niramish bora. But you can add 1/2 of an onion chopped fine.

As a reader "khabarpagol" says in the comments, finely chopped corriander leaves and a few nigella seeds in the batter makes the bora tastier. So go ahead and add that.

Beat the lentil paste with a fork till everything is well mixed up.





Now add oil to each of the round slots of the ebelskeiver pan and heat. Since my pan is cast iron, I add a little more oil(about 2tsp oil in each slot) for the first batch. For the next batch, I just add drops of oil along the edges.





Add a spoonful of lentil paste in each of those dark crevices and see the oil merrily bubbling around. Keep the heat at low medium. Once one side is golden brown with the help of a fork, a spoon or a skewer turn the other side and cook till both sides are brown and crisp.


If you do not have this pan, don't fret, you can always fry this the regular way.





Tomorrow I will tell you what I did with these daler bora or fritters, other than eating them just like that of course.

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

The Great Giveaway

In my last post I went on & on about how I am thankful to bloggers.

Today I need to Thank the most important half that keeps this blog running, THE READERS, as in you lurking human who is quickly marking my post as "Read" in your Google reader and jumping to next !!!! Whoa, you, come back here on my page, right now.

Now I am not really very bashful or dominating(tee-hee!!) and would never ever force someone to leave a comment. But sweetie(ok that is another thing I never ever say), today is a good day and a Wednesday, so would you be kind enough to stay put and drum something in with your fingers on that keyboard. It will do you good trust me.

And while you are at it will you pretty please pick an answer to the following, and leave your comment with your e-mail address, and make yourself a cup of tea and just relax because your life is going to change soon.

Here is the Million Dollar Question:

What would you like to see in this Blog in future

A. More Bengali recipes of all kind
B. More Bengali recipes of Traditional kind
C. Nothing, shut the blog and move
D. More Bengali Recipes of the new kind(??)
E. More Vegetarian recipes
F. Nothing, shut the blog and move
G. More Non vegetarian recipes
.
.
.
Z. Nothing, shut the blog and move


Now here is the deal. Some time back CSN Stores contacted me to do a giveaway at my blog. They have this cool place where they sell everything from Housewares, Home Decor, Track Lighting to Furniture. Check out their site for their amazing collection.

The winner of the giveaway gets a $80 gift cert which they can use for any product that catches their fancy at CSN Stores.

Hand Stand Mixers...


Slow Cookers...


Pressure Cookers...


even Track Lighting for the Kitchen...



Their collections is so good that if I were Goldman Sachs, I would have put in all the comments myself. But I am not going to do that because I have my morals intact and I love you guys. It is you readers who keep me going and motivate me and I owe this to you. However I am yet to make up my mind about people who will put in C, F and Z as their answers.

To win this giveaway of $80 gift certificate do the following:

1. Answer the Question I have above.

2. Leave a comment with your answer and e-mail id. Of course you can also voice your opinion on the Financial Reform Bill, Synthetic CDO's, the Nature, etc. but that is not necessary. And yes I heard about Synthetic CDOs only yesterday and am throwing it around out of context because it is such a scam with a complex name.

3. Blog, Tweet, Facebook about this giveaway. Leave a comment if you have done any and you will be entered twice

4. A lucky winner for the giveaway* will be chosen by random draw

* I do not get any compensation monetary or otherwise from this giveaway


This giveaway is open until May 4th, 2010, midnight EST. Unfortunately CSN stores ship only to US & Canada and I hope I can have something for readers from the other parts of the world in the near future. I will not be blogging or blog hopping until next week, this is time for family only and blog nirvana. See you again late next week when I post the winner. And Thanks for being here.



Sunday, April 25, 2010

Ek cup kara Cha -- a cup of strong Tea


Cha8


He had a slight built. His face was weathered. Fate had not been kind to him and it showed in those deep lines. His sparse hair around the temples were already turning white. They shouldn't have. He was Ma's younger brother, five years younger to her black dark hair.


Cha1

Bring water to boil


Almost every Saturday he stopped by at their home after the half day at office. Every Saturday Ma would keep aside the choicest piece of fish from the day's macher jhol, some tarkari and ladle-fulls of dal before she served lunch. Baromama never arrived in time.


Cha2

The water merrily bubbles


Ma would sit, waiting at the dining table long after everyone was done.Some days she would crane her neck out from the verandah at the lane now empty at noon, and finally go off to take her nap. Baba who generally was averse to the human race and found more kinship in The Statesman editorial than any mortal, would fold up the paper around three in the afternoon, declare, "Nah Khoka aaj ar elona" (No Khoka is not coming today) and retreat to his study. She still waited, occasionally glancing out of the window, beyond the football field, trying to locate the very familiar hunched figure with a battered briefcase in hand.


Cha3

The water boils furiously


It was strange that she and her other siblings liked him so much. You wouldn't think kids looked beyond the exterior, the materialistic outer cover, to the honest soul within. You wouldn't believe they preferred a warm heart to a cadbury's dairy milk.


Cha4

Spoonfuls of fragrant tea leaves


He would eventually come, much after lunch around tea time. Ma would get agitated, "Saradin kichu khas ni (You have not had any food almost whole day)", she would complain. He would smile sheepishly and mutter something about getting late. He didn't want lunch. Tea was all he wanted, tea was something he survived on. A cup of strong black tea was his lifeline. "Khali pete cha khas na, omlette kore dichi (Don't drink tea on an empty stomach, have an omlette)", Ma would say, trying to rejuvenate her young brother in that half day every week. Ma had this theory about the stomach being totally empty four hours after you ate anything at all.


Cha6

Getting ready to pour


She would make the omlette. Carefully breaking two eggs into a bowl and then beating the eggs with a fork. Sometimes she would add a tablespoon of Milk as she had read in Femina. She would beat vigorously, the fork making "ting-ting" noice against the bowl. She would add a handful of chopped onions and some chopped green chili. On the nonstick Trupti pan, she would spread the omlette and fold it, the center well done and the sides crisp.

Baromama would eagerly have the omlette amidst noisy sips of tea. He would praise her omlette making skills and launch on his favorite topic, his future dream project.


Cha7

They say you can see your future in tea leaves


There would be many more cups of tea that he and Baba would gulp down throughout the evening. There would be arguments, Ma would give advices, distant relatives would be discussed as the water boiled and tea leaves brewed.


Cha9


It has been more than a decade that she has missed such Saturdays. But she still waited for one of her trips back home, to snatch half a Saturday to see if Baromama still came home after half day at work. If Ma still waited for him at lunch.

That will not happen though. The early morning call across the oceans last Tuesday just confirmed, Baromama would not come home on the Saturdays she would visit Kolkata this summer, he would never come home again.

This is a part of my Food Fiction series. It might seem strange but it is the simplest food that has all the fiction entwined around it. This post goes to Aquadaze for Of Chalks and Chopsticks. What is your Food Story ? Send it over to Aqua.

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

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.

Wednesday, March 03, 2010

Condensed Milk Pound Cake with Chocolate Swirls





Driving back home yesterday, I switched from my favorite Public Radio to a CD on the Player.A CD containing literally 100's of songs, Hindi Movie Songs from the late 80's and 90's compiled by someone for someone else. At a moment's whim I had copied them all and there it was playing on my car stereo while I maneuvered traffic on the highway.

While I listened mindlessly to most, this one (Aaye ho Mere Zindagi mein) caught my attention. I couldn't remember the movie or the actors playing out (and thank God for that) but I could faintly recall the song. I could hear it over the air waves, blaring from the loud speaker, seeping through the brick and cement walls and lashing over unsuspecting home stayers. These were days where the mornings started with potential signs that the day was going to be different. The loudspeaker, starting off with a crackling "Hello...Mike testing.. hello..1..2..3" just confirmed it.

It could be anything, religious festival ranging from ShivRatri to DurgaPujo, cultural ones like Rabindra Jayanti to Poila Baishakh or neighbor hood Chintu's Birthday if Chintu's bro or dad indirectly influenced the loudspeaker. The neighborhood youth, self appointed custodians of our cultural enrichment, pounced upon any opportunity to tie up a loudspeaker to the nearest tree and crank up the stereo, deluging the community with their choice of current hit Hindi(Bollywood) Songs and some Bengali ones.

My Dad not being a proponent of any Hindi Movie or it's song that had a release date in the 80's or 90's, the Hindi Songs busting the charts usually eluded us. The loudspeakers on festival days compensated for our lack of knowledge. As did Chitrahar on Wednesday evenings and Rangoli on Sunday mornings.

And then today this blog reminded me of Binaca Geetmala, what a coincidence, to be reminded of songs like "Dekha Hai Pehli Baar" and "Shayad Meri Shaadi ka Khayal", the kinds I would have never wanted to hear unless for the loudspeakers and yet whose beats reverberate deep somewhere.

I don't remember anything being played on Holi though or was it "Rang Barse" played whole day ? Did you have the neighborhood loudspeaker blaring on special days ?

Since I didn't consciously celebrate Holi this time, I forgot to wish anyone around here too. I am like 3 days late but so what, "Happy Holi"





Instead of the traditional Holi Sweets, I made this Condensed Milk Pound Cake from Nags last week. Her step-by-step recipes really helps me visualize what I am baking. The chocolate marbling idea is from here for a similar pound cake.

Everything was good about this cake except the timing which was way off for me & my oven. Since 180C does not convert to 325F I was a bit confused and I checked few more Condensed Milk Pound Cake recipe. Everyone said something different and I went with 325F. Forty minutes later, the cake top was turning golden but the inside was still very soft. So I raised to temp to 375, then 20 mins later the outside was getting very dark brown and inside was just a teeny soft. So I took it out and let it cool.

The cake turned out to be pretty good though and BSS enjoyed it the most. In fact she liked it enough to share her pretty tea set for my blog pictures. I should give this a try again but with that kind of butter and sugar I will wait a while.


Read more...






Condensed Milk Pound Cake



What you Need

All purpose flour ~ 1&1/3 cups
Sweetened condensed milk ~ 1 cup
Sugar ~ 3/4 cup
Unsalted butter at room temperature ~ 1 cup
Eggs ~ 2
Baking powder ~ 3/4 tsp
Vanilla essence ~ 1 tsp
Salt ~ 1/2 tsp

For Chocolate swirls:

Cocoa powder ~ 2tbsp

How I Made It

Sieve the flour, salt and baking powder until well combined.

Cream butter and sugar together until soft and fluffy with an electric mixer.

Add the eggs one at a time and beat until smooth.

Then add the condensed milk and vanilla essence and repeat for the same time, until well combined.

Add the flour to the wet mixture gradually (in 2 or 3 additions) and mix until batter is smooth.

For the chocolate swirl, take 4 tablespoon of the batter and mix it with 2 tbsp of dark coco powder. Pour half white batter in a greased cake tin or loaf pan. Top with the chocolate batter and finish with remaining white batter. Take a knife and make a few swirls to the batter.

Bake in a pre-heated oven at 180C/325F for 50-60 mins. Insert a toothpick at the center to test if the cake is done. Note: Nags says 30-35 mins but that didn't work for my oven so be sure to check at half an hour and prolong only if needed.

Cool and serve

Friday, February 12, 2010

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.


Read more...



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.