G is for Gota Seddho, Ghugni, Ghonto, Goalondo Murgi and Gokul Pithey

When I asked for suggestions on the letter "G" in the series A-Z of Bengali Cuisine, a lot of ideas came pouring in. From Ghugni, Ghonto to Golaap Jam, Gokul Pithe the names were endless. I went into deep thought over all the suggestions and in the process found two amazing recipes for Goalondo Murgi and Ghugni. I steeled my heart and skipped "Golda Chingrir Malaikari" as we already had "Chingri Malaikari" while in C.

Finally after much dilemma(as if), the dishes that I felt could truly represent the Bengali Cuisine are here. If I am totally honest, I must admit that I skipped stuff like GolaapJaam because I had no idea how to make it.

Gokul Pithey -- Pithey is a very Bengali sweet made during the harvest festival of Poush Parbon, celebrated during Makar Sankranti in the cold months of January. Pithey was a typical home-made sweet made with basic agrarian ingredients of the region like rice, date palm etc. Many kinds of pithey were made and Gokul Pithey is a particular kind of pithey where a flat disc made of coconut and khoya is dipped in a batter of wheat flour, deep fried in hot oil and then soaked in a syrup of sugar or jaggery.

Gota Seddho -- "Ma said, "The day after Saraswati Pujo is Sheetol Shoshti. Shoshthi is the goddess of fertility and worshiped by Mothers as a guardian angel of their offspring. Sheetol==Cool. And on the day of sheetol shoshthi, cold gota sheddho that had been cooked the previous day, is to be had by Mothers worshipping Ma Shoshthi.

The way your Dida made Gota Sheddho was by boiling kali urad(the urad dal with skin) known as maashkolai in Bengali with five different vegetables in season which were to be added whole, little salt, sugar to taste, some pieces of ginger and drizzle of raw mustard oil to finish off. The vegetables most commonly used were small red potatoes, small eggplant, sheem, whole green peas in their pod and baby spinach."

Ghonto -- Ghonto is a typical Bengali dish which means a mishmash of different things, primarily vegetables. I guess it comes from the word "ghanta" which means to mix. Typically therefore a Ghonto will have vegetables which are softer and so will easily become a mishmash. Vegetables like pumkin, eggplant and greens are therefore almost always a must in a Ghonto. Of course a Bengali will have a fish version of everything and to abide to that theory, there is Muri Ghonto made with fish head and potatoes.

Ghugni -- Ghugni or Ghoognee is a very very popular snack in Bengal and in parts of Bihar and Orissa. It is made with dried white peas and cooked with myriad spices including Bhaja Masla.While the Northern India has its Chhole, Bengal has its Ghugni.

Goalondo Steamer Fowl Curry or Goalondo Murgi -- A rustic curry cooked by the Sylheti boatmen on the steamer that plied the river Padma, from Goalondo Ghat to the interiors of towns in Bangladesh.

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Somnath's Raasta'r Ghugni -- Ghugni from the street

Bengali Ghugni

Ghugni or Ghoognee is a very very popular snack in Bengal and in parts of Bihar and Orissa. It is made with dried white peas and cooked with myriad spices including Bhaja Masla.While the Northern India has its Chhole, Bengal has its Ghugni.

But as a child growing up in a Bengali home, I never liked Ghugni much. Our neighbor Jain Auntie's deep brown Chhole is what I salivated over. Though Ghugni was not made very often in our home it was a staple item in our neighborhood, served without fail by the para'r kakimas on Bijoya, at the culmination of Durga Pujo. My heart would go into a nosedive the moment I saw the steel bowl of ghugni accompanying two brown narus and one spongy roshogolla on a plate after the customary Bijoya'r pronaam. There was not a single homemade Ghugni that could woo me in its spicy deliciousness. Of course there were the myriad ghugniwala's outside school gates and at the street corner selling lip-smacking ghoogni in dubious steel plates which I never got to taste because of the mater.

As I grew older I realized I could not ignore the fact that Ghugni is an integral part of being a Bengali. If I was going to be a Bangali, not that I had a choice, I better know how to make Ghugni.

Before I write anything further let me make a honest confession. I suck at boiling the Ghugni motor. I know it is kind of silly but either I over boil it until the paper thin like skin floats around or under boil it. If I under boil it, then to cook it to softness, I again over boil it. Cooking Ghugni Motor to perfection is a chore I dread. So I mostly made my Ghugni with chickpeas!

However an authentic Ghugni is made only with Motor or White Peas(sold as White or Yellow Vatana in Indian grocery stores). So this time around I ditched the Pressure Cooker and cooked it in a open pot and watched with hawk eyes. After all I was making Somanth Roychoudhury's Father's Ghugni. I couldn't falter. I am not the kind of person who easily makes friends on social media but I must say that I have met loads of people whom I admire via facebook. Somnath, is one of them. His zest for food enthralls me and his ability to dig out local food stalls and sample street food has me in the throes of jealousy. You can follow him on his Facebook page The Street Gobbler. Or on Instagram

Ghugni at the roadside -- pic courtesy Somnath

When I was looking for a soul-punching "Rasta'r Ghugni" recipe, the spicy kind served at the street corner, I knew I had to ask Somnath. He not only shared his Father's recipe but also answered my questions and shared his pics of street-side Ghugniu wala. This is what I call a Food Connoisseur.

1. You are a street food connoisseur. List Kolkata street food in order of 1 to 5

I am not a connoisseur at all. Street food is a vastly spread out subject. I am just learning about them every day. It is really tough to make a list of best street food of kolkata. Everyone has different choice and their own favorites.

I always categorize street food in several groups of which the two major ones are Snacks and Meals, depending the time of the day when it is mostly consumed.

Afternoon Snack

1) Fuchka or Phuchka
2) Alur chop/ Beguni/ Fuluri
3) Egg Roll /Chicken Roll /Mutton rolls
4) Kochuri with assorted sabjees -- kochuris with different fillings among which the most popular is motordaal-sattu combination , Hing-chholardaal , Koraishuti (mostly in winter) and some more which are served with daal/alu torkari/alukumro torkari.
5)Jhaalmuri / Moshla Muri / Alukabli / Ghughnee

Meals or Street Foods available all day

1)Ruti Shobji - Ruti/Roti with a side dish of curried vegetables. Yes this combo is slowly winning over our maach bhaat / shobjee bhaat / pore bhaat which at one time used to be popular in the small bhaater hotel or paise hotels. It is sad to see Bengalis eating ruti for lunch but I guess it makes more practical sense in today's faster lifestyle.
Kolkata makes over a 100 thousand rutis every day and those are consumed by pedestrians throughout the day.You will always find garam ruti with various options of shobji be it day or night.
2) Poori Shobji/Luchi torkari/ with mini bhatura
3) Dosa / Idli / Vadas
4) Deem Toast / Butter Toast / Jelly toast
5) Chow-chili chicken
6) Litti -- chokha

2. In your search of street food, I see you sample many kinds at different locales. Any interesting experience?

There are so many of interesting experiences in my trail on Kolkata roads for street food... most of them are amazing. Telling about you one in recent days. Few weeks back myself and Soma Chowdhury (from blog Spices and Pisces) were craving for this very elementary beef haleem at Esplanade (in front of Nizaam).As there were some official program around there, police wasn't allowing the thela owner to put up his shop on time.We were getting restless.So both of us literally pushed the cart to its right place and helped the person in setting it up. He got irritated at us at first but then he smiled, seeing us crazy for Haleem, and served the food with a smile. It was awesome in taste and the experience is also memorable.

3. Where do you get best Ghugni on Kolkata streets?

The toughest question in this row. There are many kind of ghughnees available all over, on railway platform, on running train, on tea stalls and yes of course the stand alone ghughnee sellers. I prefer the stand alone ghughnee sellers the most. Two places I must mention.

Ghugni at the station -- pic courtesy Somnath

1. The sealdah south section platform no 12. there are few vendors who comes with a handi with cooked ghughni in it. They serve with chopped onions green chilli and few drops of tamarind pulp water aka Tetul jol.

2. One (not so)old man in behala, near behala tram depot.. I am having ghughnee from him for last 2 and half decades. The best part is the unchanged taste...serve with just sliced cucumber and tetul jol.

This recipe of ghugni is from Somnath's father. Somnath says his Father picked up cooking from his grandmother and though he cooks only a few items, he does them well. I took the recipe Somnath gave and matched it with what my Mother does(she cooks Ghugni on rare occasions) and voila the result was fantastic. The husband-man who has always turned up his nose at my Ghugnis said "Ekdom rasta'r taste esheche"(tastes just like the Ghugni from street side). Hope he meant well.

And oh yeah, inspired by one of Somnath's pictures, I added boiled eggs to my Ghugni. I am not going back.

Savory Puff Tartlets for snack -- on Spring break

I don't think I have ever written here about the trips, travels or vacations we take as a family. I don't fancy myself as a travelogue writer. I am never going to be in that high echelon. I haven't even read any travelogues in the recent years. If you have, can you recommend some?

Most of our vacations these days are planned around what people are saying on TripAdvisor. The times when the husband-man and me would pore over the Rand McNally to chalk the routes on a road trip and flip through AAA travel guides to narrow down on hotels and restaurants seems like from another era. Then there was surprise and an aura of adventure at every bend. Now we set out with a fair idea about what to expect. Down to the color of the carpet at the hotel.

These days the TripAdvisor is my travelogue fix where I can hear real people wax eloquent about a hotel's bed or grumble about lack of bacon at Quality Inn's promised breakfast. I love hanging around there and narrowing down my choices. Even if I don't have a choice, I sometimes hang around there, planning vacations I will never take. So anyway all this hanging around results in some sort of planning, and I felt it would help someone or even me in future, if I write a bit about our trips and vacations.

Now, I have forgotten most of the details that went into planning our former trips and so I will start off with our most recent trip down to Virginia and then Outer Banks, North Carolina. This trip however needed no planning. We were visiting friends who lived near Virginia Beach and then going to Outer Banks with them. They knew the area well and so I didn't have much to do really except RELAX.

Goalondo Murgi -- Steamer Fowl Curry

I have never had a Goalondo Murgi in all my childhood.

I do not know anyone in my family who has tasted this dish cooked by the boatmen on a Goalondo Steamer. That is kind of justified given that my family on the large is probashi bangali, meaning Bengalis settled outside of Bengal. Their ties to East Bengal might seem very very faint but quiet a few of my Baba's uncles spoke in a heavy "Bangal accent" and my Dad fondly remembers the single trip that he made to Dhaka as a young boy with his grandmother, who had her maternal family in that area. He did go on a steamer on his travel but he has never mentioned the Goalondo Steamer curry. I assume he did not taste it.

In the last couple of years the internet is however awash with the recipe of this rustic curry cooked by the Sylheti boatmen on the steamer that plied the Padma. A recipe with a story always intrigues me and this one had enough nostalgia and romanticism going for it. However I wasn't fully convinced  to cook it. Yet.

Goalondo Ghat is a small town on the southern banks of Padma, or rather the confluence of Padma and Brahmaputra, in Bangladesh. Way back in 1871, the Eastern railways established a train line from Kolkata to Goalondo. To go from Kolkata to Dhaka, one would take a train from Sealdah Station which would reach Goalondo ghaat after an overnight journey. There you would then change to a steamer which chugged on the waters of river Padma and traveled down to Naraynganj or Chandpur. Once at Narayanganj, you would then again take the train to Dhaka.

As we see, Goalondo was a major transport hub with daily service steamers connecting it to railway service in Narayanganj, Chandpur as well as to steamer services to the regions of Sylhet from where you could then proceed to the tea plantations in Assam.

A vivid picture of the journey is descirbed in this Handbook from 1913, "From the Hooghly to the Himalayas"
"From Goalundo to Narayanganj by steamer on the Padma, as the Ganges is called on its lower reaches, takes about seven hours, and as the boats are comfortable and the prospect always pleases, the journey is well worth making and serves as a introduction to the great system of waterways that is the main characteristic of this province. The amazing width of the river, the fights and shades reflected on its muddy waters, the vivid green of the fields of rice and jute that fringe the banks and recede into the mists of the far horizon across the flat alluvial plains, the thatched huts with hog's-back roofs - or huts modernized and ugly with the more water-proof iron tops—and the little clusters of palms and other trees - all this makes up a moving panorama that one may watch for hours untired."

I haven't been to Goalondo or on that steamer, but the stories and songs of these boatmen have been retold in many Bengali tales. Aided by literature and imagination, I can imagine the deckhands(also known as Khalasis) preparing their mid-day meal while singing Bhatiyali songs as the steamer plowed down the river. These were men probably from Sylhet or Chittagong, regions famous for their cooks. With sparse ingredients in hand they cooked a chicken and potato curry on the days they could buy dishi murgi or fowls at a bargain price. While they cooked with onion, garlic, mustard oil and lots of red chili ,the fragrance of steaming hot rice and the bubbling curry wafted around the boat, the flavors intensified by the boatmen's songs, songs of the joys and pains of the mighty river.

The life and curry that we romanticize now must have been a routine and mundane thing for those boatmen. As the curry gained popularity, the pise hotels around the ghaat started offering them to travelers. In those days murgi/chicken was taboo in most Hindu homes. For a long time, we weren't allowed to cook and eat murgi in my grandmother's home, though goat meat was allowed. So naturally the lure of the gorgore laal murgir jhol at these hotels and steamer was hard to resist.

Now I have tried two recipes of Goalondo Steamer Fowl Curry. One was guided by Pritha Sen's description of the curry as a "fiery, thin red curry with a layer of oil on top". She had done extensive research on the recipe and had deduced dry shrimp paste as the magic ingredient which the boatmen used.

Very logical, as dried fish(shukti) or dried shrimp paste was very popular among the Sylheti cooks and it was an inexpensive ingredient that could be carried on their boat journeys. I got a bottle of shrimp-chilli paste from the Asian Market but I am not sure if it is the right kind. I worked around what Pritha Di said but I am sure my Goalondo Fowl Curry was nowhere as good as hers.

The rest of the ingredients etc. was based on a recipe that Ahona Gupta gave me. She had found it on a cooking forum in FB and made it few years back. Her recipe asked for same ingredients but the shrimp paste. Other than that her recipe called for a more simpler method of cooking and also she advised against adding any water. However I did add water because you know what, the curry has to be a "thin red curry".

My curry was thin and tasted pretty good but didn't have the fiery red color, probably due to my skimping on the red chillies. Mine also tasted more or less like the Murgir Jhol my Mother or Mother-in-law cooks with the faint note of the shrimp paste adding a new layer. It has to be more about my cooking though as the recipes is perfect and I hope with more trials my murgir jhol gets the "gorgore laal" (fiery red) rustic flavor like that of the steamer fowl curry.


Method I


Start off with 1lb of bone-in chicken, skinned and cut in pieces

Make a paste of
5 fat cloves of garlic
1" of ginger
4-5 Dry red chilli that has been soaked for 15-20 mins(Note: My curry was medium hot, you need to use double the chilli to have a more spicy curry )

I made the paste using my mortar and pestle given that this was supposed to be a rustic curry. I am sure if the boatmen had an electric grinder they would have used that, so please take liberties and do your best.

Now grate 3/4th of a red onion and keep aside. I was lazy to grate and so boiled and then made a paste of the Onion. Also the onions I get here are really big in size, so 3/4th of my big onion would amount to 2 small onion.

Chop 1 potato in 4 quarters

Now wash and clean the chicken pieces. Marinate the chicken and potatoes with
half of the garlic-chilli paste
2 tbsp of Mustard oil
half of the onion paste
generous sprinkle of turmeric
little salt
Keep aside for 30 minutes to an hour.
Note: If I am not wrong, Pritha Di had asked for a little fish sauce in the chicken marinade which I skipped.

Heat Mustard Oil in a Kadhai/Wok. Be generous with your mustard oil

When the oil is hot, add
the rest of the onion paste
rest of the chilli-garlic paste
about 1/2 tsp of this dry Shrimp paste/dry Shrimp powder.
Saute the onion and spices until starts turning brown.

Add the potatoes and the chicken and saute for about 5-6 minutes.When the potatoes start getting a touch of color and the chicken has lost its raw coloring, add about 1 cup of water. Add salt to taste.

Let the curry come to a simmer. Now reduce the heat, cover the wok/kadhai and let the chicken cook in low heat. After 20-25 mins or so, lift the lid and there is a fair chance that you will see a slick layer of oil floating on the top.

Now open the lid and cook for 4-5 minutes more until the chicken and potatoes are cooked.


Method II


I marinated 1lb chicken and the potatoes with all the ingredients as above(i.e. grated onion, garlic-chili-ginger paste, mustard oil,, salt, turmeric powder)

Now heat mustard oil in a wok/kadhai.

Add the marinated chicken and potatoes. Saute for 8-10 minutes. Now cover, add a little water, salt to taste and let it cook until a layer of oil floats on top and everything is cooked.

Serve this thin curry with steaming hot rice, red onions slices and a twist of lime.




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Fuluri or Phuluri ~ on the trail of a fried snack

Let me jog your memory and remind you of the A-Z of Bengali Cuisine that I have been half-heartedly attempting since last year. I mean my heart is fully into it but I keep falling back in chronicling the recipes.

Anyway,let me remind you that around November last year, we were stuck at the Letter "F". Not the word, the letter. The reader's choice popular awards demanded "F for Fuchka", "F for Fish Orly" and "F for Fish Fry".

However what was stuck in the grooves of my brain was steeped in memory, nostalgia and zero real life experience. F for "Fuluri".

A few yards away from my maternal grandmother's home in northern parts of Kolkata, right behind a small temple that was built upon faith and an old banyan tree, there was a narrow lane. This narrow lane was one of the many, many narrow lanes that crisscrossed that part of the city.Those days cars and buses were few and they for the most part stuck to the main roads. Bicycles, rickshaws and mostly people on foot plied the narrow gallis. Even then the by-lanes were a quiet, peaceful haven where you could chalk the time of the day by observing the thoroughfare.

Early morning as the eastern sky turned pink, you could hear the trill of the bicycle bells of the doodhwallah, the thwack of the newspaper guy who brought news on his bicycle and the faint All India Radio signature tune of "Vande Mataram" from the houses along the lane who stirred and woke up from deep slumber. Little later the lane would resound with high pitched voices of kids in school uniform, the tiny ones with sleep in their eyes and their small fingers wrapped around their mother's, the older ones huddled close with their friends, walking towards the school bus stop. Almost the same time as the school crowd there would be the "bajaar goers", middle aged men, sometimes women, purposefully striding towards the morning market to get the best fish for the day. This was when the lane would get really busy and you would know the small hand of clock was somewhere around 8 and 9 in the morning.

By the time the sun had risen further and the shadows stretched long and thin from one end of the lane to the other, office goers with their briefcase, three tiered tiffin carrier and a small box of paan, marched along the lane, to wait for their crowded bus at the corner where the narrow lane met the main road.

Soon after, with the sun high up in the sky, the lane would turn hushed, sleepy, interrupted only by sounds of a pressure cooker whistle or the hiss and sputter of mustard oil. Elderly men would sit out on the porch and maids with slim waist bang doors as they rushed from one home to another.

Sometime around 5 in the evening, in this very ordinary lane, a small shop would open its shutters. The shop was nearer to the main road and closer to the temple. A very strategic location.

And in this shop, there would be an old woman, sitting behind a huge black kadhai that rested on a unoon, a coal fire stove. Great amount of oil sizzled in this Kadhai. The old woman swirled her bony wrists and poured dollops of chickpea and various other batter into the hot oil. The oil bubbled and sputtered angrily, magically turning the batter into golden balls, which she then took out with a slotted spoon, and served to her customers in paper cones made of day old newspaper. Her small store front would be so crowded with cries of "Chaar te Chingrir Chop", "Duto Beguni", "Dash ta Fuluri", that you had to stand sideways and push with your shoulder to get an entry. By mid evening pools of yellow light gathered under the street lamps and the lane was redolent with heavenly smell of deep fried food. This was "Buri'r telebhajar dokaan"(the old woman's fritter shop) from where my uncles got beguni, aloor chop and fuluri, wrapped in newspaper, on rare evenings.

And this is the only place where I ever had "Fuluri". Rest were all Pakori.

Now, I always assumed "Fuluri" was same as "Pakora or Pakori". Whenever chickpea batter fritters were made at home, my Mother used the term "Pakora" and never "fuluri", but I though they both were basically the same. The husband-man who has stronger memories of Fuluri claimed that "Fuluri" has to be bigger, rounder and more air filled than Pakori. It doesn't have vegetable or onions which we tend to put in a pakori batter. He also insisted that in addition to besan(chickpea flour), "Fuluri" has to have some dal paste in the batter.

After all even "The word pakoṛā is derived from Sanskrit पक्ववट pakvavaṭa a compound of pakva 'cooked' and vaṭa 'a small lump' or its derivative vaṭaka 'a round cake made of pulse fried in ghee" -- source Wiki.

So what was after all Fuluri?

To verify the husband-man's claim, I scoured the internet for "Fuluri" and got pages and pages of Trinidad Pholouries. In Trinidad homes, pholourie is fried balls of a thick batter made from flour, yellow split-pea flour, turmeric and cumin (and other seasonings like garlic as well, depending on the cook).Clearly the Bangali Fuluri and Trinidad Phulourie were first cousins. It was more natural that it emigrated to Trinidad from Bihar where such fritters go by the name of "phulourie".

Next I turned to Progyasundari Devi's book, treasures gifted by my friend A. In there she has recipes of Fuluri which is made of only Besan just like pakori and she calls them "Besan er Fuluri". She also has recipes of Oriya Fuluri which uses dal paste in the batter.

To come to a conclusion, I then asked my trusted Encyclopedia Britannica of food, Pritha Sen. We debated a bit over whether dal paste should or should not go in a fuluri batter until she threw open the debate on her Facebook timeline. Somnath, another ardent food enthusiast got to work.This is what happened after that.

Straight from Pritha Di's Facebook post:

"Somnath Roychoudhury took matters into his own hands and went on a street food jaunt, talking to three Phuluri makers. Somnath said it was the fluffiness that led to the name -- Phuley otha besan bhaja (Fluffed up fried besan). He said that he doubted if any cook book writer ever mastered real streetfood. He said that there is a variety of besan you get in the market for commercial use. It's not as fine as the branded besan and that besan is a must for a good fuluri which tastes best if you eat it super hot. Somnath went across to Tyangra and two places in Behala, acorss the city and has this to say:

"According to the vendors I spoke to, there are two kinds of Phuluris -- one is hard and crusty with a soft fluffy inside, which is probably made from grainy and coarse besan mixed with different flavourings and fried the size of Rajbhog. The second has a softer outer layer with super fluffy inside made from fine powdered besan. No no daal paste business. Dalpaste is used in daal pokora or mixed with besan to make Daal bora."

His findings corroborated what some others had been saying. That a Phuluri is besan batter, beaten well with chopped green chillies and chilli powder and salt and bicarbonate of soda and deep fried into round fluffy balls and served with spiced salt sprinkled over it. To further prove his point he has pictures and a video of the Phuluri maker whipping the batter.

So Sandeepa, the conclusion was that when affluent Bengali homes recreated the Phuluri in their own kitchens, they did so with the ingredients they were used to making boras from, not having had the privilege to talk to the actual street food makers about how it was done. So a Phuluri is plain batter fried into fluffy balls and never has any vegetable in it."

Isn't it interesting how a simple thing like Fuluri can set you on a long trail ?

I decided to merge the recipe of Oriya Fuluri and the Besan Fuluri to make my own.  We liked the result. The inside was soft fluffy and the outside was more crunchy. Mine were almost like a pakori and didn't really look like round balls of Trinidad Pholourie. As Somnath said, you need some amount of street food expertise to make the perfect round balls.
*You can skip the chana dal paste and use only chickpea flour or besan to make your Fuluri.

Fuluri or Phuluri

Soak 1/2 Cup of Split Pea/Chana Dal for an hour.

With little water, grind this dal to a paste.

Now in a wide mouthed bowl pour the dal paste.
To it add
1/2 cp of Besan/Chickpea Flour
Salt to taste
1/2 tsp of baking soda
2 green chilli finely chopped

Adding little water, whip up the batter to make a thick smooth paste. Don't pour water all at once. Add water gradually until you get a smooth batter without any lumps.

Now heat enough oil for deep frying. Take a tsp of hot oil and mix it with the batter.

Now test if the oil is ready for frying. Put a drop of the batter in the oil. If it sinks, oil is not ready yet. If the drop of batter bubbles and floats back then oil is just right.

Drop in spoonfuls of batter in the hot oil and watch it swell and turn golden. With a slotted spoon gently move them around until the ball is golden brown.

Take the crispy golden brown balls out and let it drain on a paper towel. Sprinkle some rock salt/pink salt and serve.

Great with a cup of hot chai.

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Aloo Chingri PeyajKoli Chorchori -- those were the days

I don't know what has happened to my evening these days. With the kids getting older, you would expect that, my evenings would roll around like a glorious expanse of free time. Instead, there I am sitting at precisely 8:15 PM explaining place value to a six year old.

I have no clue how I landed in this morose place where six year olds need to be taught but apparently there is something called the common core curriculum, which is like going to make an Einstein out of each tiny tot who has ever passed through the holy grails of American Public School System. To step up to this whole new challenge, the fancy town we moved to because its schools if not best is better than many, has devised multitude of tests. These tests apparently test little children on things they know, things they do not know, things god-dang-six-year-olds could never know. You are not supposed to prep your kid for these tests but apparently everyone does. Except of course me who lives under the rock and some other hippie Mom who believes in karma.

And then I wander into one of LS's school classmate's birthday party and everyone is discussing how their first grader knows multiplication, division, decimals and what nots and I am like really, where was I all these years ? The hippie mom of course is peacefully exhaling and not taking part in this discussion about child prodigies, but she doesn't count. She has flat abs and amazing skin and her children eat flax-seed crackers.

Potato Carrot Bean Sausage Soup -- soupy days

As Big Sis and Little Sis grow older I have been trying to have them responsible for some simple chores around the house. Both are very helpful in their own ways but when it comes to chores we have not been very successful to maintain a regularity. Like say Big Sis is responsible for folding her clothes and then putting them away. She does this diligently. But, yes there is a but, when once in two weeks, I randomly open her dresser drawers, clothes jump on me and spill out in a manner they should not. Big Sis would rather make scrambled eggs than fold her clothes.

Little Sis is much more organized when it comes to folding and organizing her clothes drawer. However she does not do it in a regular manner. She would rather pull a step stool besides me in the kitchen and roll luchis. Which is wonderful but someone has to do the other work too.

To start her on a simple job routine, I asked her to clean up the shoes that lie cluttered in the laundry/mud room at the end of each week. She did it with enthusiasm for a few weeks. Mind you I do not pay them for these chores so there is no incentive other than that of a job well done. After the first few weeks, Little Sis started forgetting about her chore in a pretty regular manner. I kept thinking she would get back to it. Nothing happened. Finally after a month I decided to remind LS of the chore that she was supposed to do every week. I also decided to imaprt some gyaan.

"LS," I said, "a chore is something you are responsible for. You cannot just do it one time and think it is done. You are supposed to arrange the shoes every week but I have not seen you doing it even once in the last month. What happened?"

LS looked at me and said "But I cannot do it."

"Why?"

"I have been fired from the job. Now I cannot do it anymore!"

And with that she moved on to live a life of leisure.

I wish, I could have clear reasons like that to skip all my daily chores and sit down with a book. But that will not happen. And I will make soup.

Every winter I find a new soup recipe that we love. I still make the old ones but some are clearly cooked more often than the other. Like this Tomato Soup wins hands down every winter. Sometimes we add crusty bread to it. On other days some basil pesto makes it a tomato-basil soup.

Then there is this Noodle Soup in Coconut milk. I call it a Khao Soi but it is not exactly a Khao Soi. Whatever it is, it tastes glorious.

This winter we found a new soup to love. I have a book of soup recipes which I bought from the library sale many years back and every winter I spend a good amount of time poring over the book. I end up making only a couple of them every year.

This year I decided to make this Potato Bean Sausage Soup and it was the best thing that could have happened this winter. It is much loved and even when I am making other soups the girls request this again and again. It is easy and I can make it pretty quickly in the pressure cooker. With some bread it serves as the perfect one-pot meal.

I am sure you will love it too.

I have simplified and added variations to this soup for my own good.

Firs we need a few vegetables.

I have used
1 potato -- peeled and chopped in cubes
1 large-ish carrot --- peeled and chopped in cubes
half of an onion
half of a fennel bulb -- chopped fine
2 cloves of garlic

Next we need a can of red kidney beans and some vegetable or chicken stock. If you don't have stock, don't fret, you can use soup bouillons or just plain water.

The star of this soup is of course sausage. I have used andouille chicken sausages. About 4 of them. Defrost and cut up the sausages.

First heat a tbsp of Olive Oil in  a pressure cooker.

Add the sausages and saute until they are browned. Remove and keep aside.

Now to the same oil add 2 cloves of garlic minced and half-of-an onion chopped. Saute until the onion is soft.

Add a tsp of Tomato Paste.

Add the potatoes and carrots and saute for a minute. If you have fennel you will add some of the chopped fennel bulb now. Saute for a couple of minutes.

Next add enough stock or water so that the vegetables are immersed. Add salt to taste.

Close the pressure cooker lid and at full pressure cook for 3 minutes.

When the pressure is released, open the lid. Now add the kidney beans and the sausage. Adjust for salt and sugar. Simmer until the flavor is well blended.

Serve with some crusty bread.

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R's Best Chocolate Cake ever -- made by the kids

Around 14 years ago I was very riled up when the husband-man got me a bunch of roses on Valentine's Day. That very morning I had noticed that the nearest gas station was selling roses at double the usual price and I had wondered, "who are these fools who pay double the money to buy flowers on V Day". By evening I knew who they were. The husband-man has never got me flowers since. At least not on Valentine Day. I am more than happy.

However what with the kids and their celebrations at school, my outlook towards this day has mellowed to the point that now I accept this day as a big pink heart with a lollipop stuck to it. I actually look forward to getting the pink and red goody bags ready for the first grader who comes back with a candy loot after the V day party. Well some people have to do their business I guess.

Today I will share with you a Chocolate Cake which has a very close tie to Valentine's Day. This recipe was given to me a couple of years ago by my then seven year old niece, my friend R's daughter. She had made this cake with her mother and it was totally delicious. When I asked for the recipe, she had rattled off the exact recipe from memory and then told me that if I googled for "Hershey's Perfect Chocolate Cake", I would find it on internet. These kids are too smart I tell you.

Soon enough Big Sis too was hooked on to the cake. For LS's fifth birthday, both my niece R and Big Sis baked the cake. Usually they bake the cake as instructed in two 9" circles to make a two layer cake but since then they have made 3 layer cakes, a single layer large cake and even cup cakes with the same recipe. Big Sis has made it for my anniversary, for her sister's birthday and even for her own 11th birthday.

That smart 7 year old who shared this recipe with us turns nine on Valentine's Day this year. May she grow up to be as sweet and smart as she has always been and may her life be rich, moist and perfect like this cake.

The recipe is really simple and easy to follow with always delicious results. The cake is rich, moist and very chocolate-y. For most parts kids aged 7 and older can make this with some adult supervision. It does involve boiling water and using it, so that is the step when I would expect an adult to come in and grab the apron.

Eating in and around Kolkata -- Part 2

Though the title of this post is about "Eating in and around Kolkata", unlike the last one, this one is not about food at restaurants. It is more about the simple things, which were so much a part of life once but has now become blog worthy by their mere absence. I don't think the adage "Distance makes the heart grow fonder" applies to any relation so aptly as to our relation to food.

The one thing that was on my mind even while we booked our tickets to Kolkata was fish. I did not really want to gorge on Ilish or Golda Chingri. Instead my heart was set on "chara ponar jhol"(fresh baby rohu or katla cooked in a soupy gravy), "tyanga maacher jhaal" (tyangra fish in mustard gravy) and a very light gravy of winter vegetable like cauliflower, sweet peas, potatoes with fish and bori -- my Mother's speciality.

My parents and the husband man's parents however thought otherwise. Since their priority now days is the granddaughters and I come a very far third or maybe fourth, all the fish dishes planned were around them. Any small fish with head and bones were out. Fish like Bhetki and Prawns were in. Since the husband-man is not a big fish lover either, he was happy with my Mother's awesome dish of Bhetki in a cashew gravy, Bhetki Kalia and fish fries. The daughters of course refused to touch any fish and settled on paneer. I threw a tantrum. "Bhetki is not why I have travelled for 24 hourrs in a closed steel compartment where the air smelled like a mix of biriyani, sambar, dolce vita and flatulence", I cried.

The next morning I was out with my Baba to scour the neighborhood fish market. I didn't trust him. Left on his own, he would again concentrate on only those fish which he faintly hoped his granddaughters would love.

The very sight of "gleaming silver fish" in the neighborhood bajaar upped my spirits. I took out my phone and started clicking pictures. The fish sellers gave me an incredulous look.

An elderly Bengali gentleman standing nearby asked if I was really taking pictures. Another lady asked why. When I said I don't get such good fish where I live, they looked at me with sympathy and asked where I lived. Then one of them said their nephew lives in Oklahoma and if it was near where I lived. Another said that no one cooks in USA and every one eats microwaveable food. The fish seller trying to pull the conversation towards himself said that he was much used to pose for cameras. Every year many of his clients who live in foreign lands ask him to pose with his fish for photos. And then all of them make calendars with these pictures and send him the calendars on New year. Why, even German people have photographed him and made calendars.
"Dekhen giye, koto koto calendar amar baritey", he smirked.("Go and see, how many calendars with my photo are lying around"). I smiled politely and bought Tyangra. He was apparently my Baba's favorite fish seller.

The next few days, I gorged on "chara ponar jhol" and "tyangra maacher jhaal" cooked by Ma. She over did it and every meal overflowed with fish. Ma also made and an amazing "kaankrar jhaal", a crab curry, which unfortunately I did not have the patience to learn.

In a couple of days, we were off to visit the husband-man's parents who live in a town about 170km from Kolkata. My childhood is scattered over several such small towns and though my parents now live in the city, I re live my childhood days through the husband-man's hometown. The high point of the three hour bus journey is the JhaalMuri at Shaktigarh. Though Shaktigarh is famous for its lynagchas( a sweet akin to gulab jamun but elongated in shape), the shops along the Highway do not really have the best lyangchas in town and after several disappointing lyangchas I have now learned to trust only the jhaalmuri man.

Jhaalmuri, puffed rice with specks of onion, green chilli, bits of cucumber, fried peanuts, julienne of boiled potatoes and tossed in mustard oil, is a simple concoction which I love. When on the road and a few foods can be trusted, this really fast food seems to hit all the right spots. It is healthy, fresh, and if you ask the jhaalmuri man to skip the pickle oil of dubious origin or the onion which is not looking fresh cut, you have a perfectly wholesome snack in a minute.

I watched with hawk eyes as the jhaalmuri wala tossed the muri in a steel dabba. Since I have been hearing of the "muri mashla" packaged and sold, I asked this guy what was the spice he added at the very end. He declared it to be a simple "dhone-jire-shukno lonka bhaja masla"(coriander seeds-cumin seeds- red chilli dry roasted and powdered). If that is the trade secret, no need to buy the packaged moshla stores sell.

To offset the green chillis, we had "daaber jwol" or tender coconut water. When Big Sis was younger, she would call it "Dabba Juice". Surprisingly, bot the girls love the muri but do not appreciate the tender coconut water.

This was followed with "bharer cha" or cha in earthenware cups, the only way tea brewed along the highways is served.

At my in-law's place the meals are around local ingredients which are easily available. One was the "Bok Phool Bhaja" which I ate after years. These are flowers of the "Humming Bird Tree". In Bengali, these flowers are called "Bok Phool" or "Crane flowers" because of their resemblance to white cranes. The flowers are dipped in a batter of besan and rice flour and fried crisp. There was also "mulo shaak bata", radish greens paste which was delicious. When it came to fish, they had again defaulted to all kinds of Bhetki Kalia and Bhaja. This Bhetki was getting on my nerves by now!

But I like the little town with its sedentary life style so much that I drowned my Bhetki sorrow and compensated it with the little treasures around, like the "bread-biscuit wallah" who comes calling every morning around ten with his "chaand biscuit" and "madan katkati" and the "hannsher dim wallah" who sells duck eggs from his bicycle to the cries of "dim chai dim". My idea of a perfect life is lounging on a rocking chair in the warm winter sun in such a small town as life slowly crawls around me.

 Life literally crawls there, even the sun moves slow casting its shadows this way and that, peering in through the huge "Tej Patta" tree and playing hide and seek with the areca palm which stands tall and erect.

I know a lot of people go to retreats and meditation resorts to get away from their stressful city life but I think that stressful life is a choice you make. One takes that choice in return of the modern world luxury and material pleasures. But there are many who have chosen a slower paced life style for themselves, a life where you can live in the moment and not chalk your day by the minute. When I visit such small towns I often feel a tug in my heart for a life I could probably have had but thought too sedate and boring when the choices were doled out..

The husband-man's home is surrounded with a lot of trees and both Big Sis and Little Sis were very excited with "supuri" or areca nut but not really interested in tej pata.














The star of the stay was "Kodbel Makha"! Kod Bel or wood apple has a hard exterior and the pulp is sour and tangy. The pulp is scooped out and mashed with mustard oil, green chilli, salt and sugar.

When we were younger we would scoop it, mix and eat it right there on quiet winter afternoons, sitting on the terrace, the sound of our slurping piercing the quiet.Ideally it tastes better if sunned for a few hours or a day to reach that perfect balance in flavor and taste.

Back in Kolkata, I got my Phuchka fix at Dakhhinapan. The fact that I had it with a school friend whom I met after about 25 years and her daughter made it all the more memorable. I tried two kinds, the usual ones and one a tauk-jhaal-mishti which a lot of the younger generation around were asking for. I would suggest you to stick to the good old original one if you are not going to have it regularly. Apparently dahi Phuchka and Aloor Dum Phuchka at this stall is very popular but I didn't want to skitter away my few chances at eating Phuchka by deviating from the original.

Two more places we went out to eat was "Hakka" at City Centre 1. It was a pre-birthday treat for Big Sis from her grandparents. Since she adores Indian Chinese and this restaurant seemed to be quite popular we decided to go there. Both the girls loved the food. The chili chicken was just right and they politely suggested that the one I make at home is not as good. I guess it is because of the absence of ajinomoto in my dishes. Chilli Potatoes and a Lamb dish were also very good.

More Indian Chinese was had when I went out with a college friend, who again I met after many years. She treated me to a delicious lunch at the old favorite Bar-B-Q where we talked and ate and discussed about the very polite server who refused to budge from his English in spite of my severe Bengali requests. The Hakka noodles and the Chilli Chicken here were literally to die for. The days were so good that I really did not want to come back.

All the food that I was eating had to be heavily balanced with daily doses of "Hajmola" to eat more stuff at home. Even then I couldn't resist the things that I do not get here. Like "Jolpai" or Indian Olive. My Mother makes an amazing and very simple fresh chutney with this.

She cooks the olives in the pressure cooker with enough water for 1 whistle to make them soft. The water in which the olives are boiled is strained and the olives which are now soft but not totally mushy taken out and cooled. Then with her hand she presses them to separate the seed from the soft flesh. Once she has removed all the seeds, she adds mustard oil, finely chopped green chili, little sugar and salt to the jolpai and mashes it all up with her fingers. This mix when kept out in the winter sun for a couple of days tastes like heaven. This chaatni needs to be eaten within a day or two. For a longer shelf like, my Mother suggests to cook them in mustard oil tempered with Paanchphoron.

And then it was time to pack bags and get back with only a box of this to remind us of  that when you choose to make a home in two countries you learn to appreciate the sweet treasures that each one offers.



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