Eating in and around Kolkata -- part 1

It has been a while that I have logged in here and I am glad that I haven't forgotten my password!!! It has been so long that it feels like I blogged in my other life or something.

But if I tell you all that I did since November, you will know that there was a worthy reason for all that absence. In November we went to India for a three week vacation. Now, that itself is big enough, given we were traveling with two kids, who had neither valid visa nor passport, a fact we were oblivious of until we decided to book the tickets, which incidentally was about 10 days before the travel date. You see the dependency in there ? The multiple critical paths ?A slip at any point and we would not be going anywhere. But it did not slip. Thankfully.

Then we came back, right in time for the Christmas holidays, and so had to rush around getting the Christmas tree up and then buying at least a few presents for the kids if only to re-instill Little S's faith in Santa Claus. Throw in a birthday party for Big Sis where seven of her friends came over one evening to make their own pizza, sundae and to generally have fun. The girls were self sufficient and I hope had fun though Big Sis was vehement about not having a party this year.

We had one more party on the 24th, where I made only the appetizers and catered the main food. I made a roast pork in the oven which was really good and wanted to note down the recipe, which involved marinating the pork in roasted Indian spices and was kind of free flowing, but never got the time to do so. Next time, I guess.

Then my sis-in-law was visiting with her family and we did the usual Rockefeller tree visiting on Christmas day braving the insane city traffic for about 2 hours, before our car could land up anywhere near the tree. Next the whole family went to watch PK where, you wouldn't believe this, two back-to-back shows were all sold out. We had to go back the next day for a showing!!! Some perseverance. Soon after sis-in-law left  we drove across neighboring states to spend the New Year with another friend. Finally when we were back on the 3rd, endless days of school and work seemed more relaxing than the break we had.

So, you see, in this whole rigmarole, it is a miracle that I still managed to remember my blogger password.

I had originally intended to do the New Year post about a chocolate cake that BS had made for her birthday and whose recipe was given by my niece R, a dear friend's daughter. But out trip back home was so much fun this time that I thought of writing at least a little about it, along with a few pictures in this post. I think after many years, this was a trip, when I ventured out of the home most and also ate out a lot. The second is definitely a difficult task to achieve, given our short stay and the home cooked food that my Ma and Ma-in-law wants to feed us but I persevered and managed to sample a lot of the old favorites.

The day after we arrived, we were at Park Street to get some personal work done, and of course I had to visit Hot Kati Roll. The small store was packed as it was around lunch time and the owner was visibly irritated with my attempt at photography. The egg-chicken roll however was not what it used to be and left me a bit disappointed and at the same time happy that I was not missing out on anything in the US.

From Park Street, we went straight to College Street to buy our stash of Bangla  books, Amar Chitra Kathas and Enid Blytons. I know, I know, Starmark or Crossword is the place these days but a trip back home without going to College Street is incomplete for me.

Since on my last visit we had done the Coffee House, this time I decided to skip it. Also we had landed just the day before and I had already consumed an egg roll. For old times sake, I walked around college Square to get a glimpse of Paramount. Again was a bit skeptical of going in and I opted for a fresh daab er jwol from the roadside. See, what age and staying outside the country has done to me. I am ashamed of myself.

However the sadness of not eating a kobiraji or drinking a chocolate malai sherbet was swept away by the sight of books jumping out of every bend and corner. If I had to define "happy" at that point, it would be to roam College street with the sole aim of buying books of fiction for pure pleasure. No tension of shouting for a Maiti-Ghosh or Tannenbaum. What relief.

After strolling a bit, I went to the old trusted bookstore of Dasgupta & Co., where a chai-wallah had come with his huge aluminum kettle and stack of earthen cups to deliver the bikel er cha. I started so longingly at the khuris(terracotta tea cups) that the the book sellers finally relented and offered me a cup. After a cup of tea, Lila Majumdar Rachanaboli, and "Aro Satyajit" we were out to face the booksellers on the pavement shouting out "Didi, ki boi chai, ki boi?" It is such a warm, fuzzy feeling to be in a street where all people ask is which book you want.

The next day, was at Flury's with the whole family. My dad felt it was a place fit for his grand daughters and so wanted to treat them there. Around noon, it was totally empty and the servers hovered around us constantly which made me feel a tad nervous as I like to be left alone when I am making up my mind about what to eat and then actually eating it. But they were only doing there job with too much enthusiasm and I shouldn't blame them for that. The ladies at the pastry counter were opposite of enthusiastic though and I figured had not much idea as I asked about the various kinds and the differences between two very similar ones.

The girls thoroughly enjoyed their pastries and ordered a pasta which they loved. My club sandwich was totally delicious and I will forgive the over zealous servers for it.

Our Biriyani quest started with Aminia, the one at New Town, and it went down with a whimper. Next since everyone was raving about Arsalan, we decided to give it a try too. I had never heard of Arsalan before so it was a brave move. I thought the biriyani was good but the pieces of meat in the Biriyani was really disappointing. Also in the US, we get really good Hyderabadi Biriyanis and again I felt that I wasn't really missing much.

All that changed of course, the moment we walked into Shiraz. The fragrance itself put me in place. It was 11 in the morning. I was there after a full breakfast of luchi-torkari and yet my heart trembled with what was to come. We ordered a Biriyani, mutton chaanp and roomali ruti. My words fail me at what I felt at the first spoonful of the Biriyani. The roomali roti, soft as cloud was like a whiff of warm air in our mouth enveloping the soft morsels of meat in the chaanp. The tender meat seemed to have cooked in the spices for a relaxingly long time to achieve that perfect taste. I hate to admit but the chaanp that I had attempted at home was not even a distant cousin of this miracle. 

Since we were running short of time, the plan was to do Shiraz and Peter Cat on the same morning. A difficult task bur had to be done. So after the 11 am Birriyani at Shiraz, we spent about 2 hours in and around New Market for the sole purpose of eating again at Peter Cat. Only a Bangali will do that. Hang around  for food like that

The 2 hour gap was not enough to induce hunger and only a single plate of chelo kabab was ordered to be shared by D and me. The taste was exactly like I remembered, the rice moist and rich with butter and a poached egg on top, and the succulent kababs. I don't care much for the chicken kababs but the buttery rice and the skewered lamb kabab is out of the world. I have to get the recipe of a chelo kabab and try to make it at home soon or I could just eat generously buttered rice. I think the second option will make me equally happy.

And then of course there was Oh!Calcutta. I had decided that come what may I would make sure to visit the restaurant on this trip. So even when folks on FB suggested Bhojohori Manna or some other place, I went ahead to Oh!Calcutta with a steely determination.

The ambiance was excellent and I was really happy to see apun ka Bengali food being served in such an atmosphere. However US has spoiled us and being used to large portions of food in restaurants , I was bit taken aback by the small portions. The price too I felt was exorbitant given the portions. The food was good if not great and loved the fried boris they served along with myriad chutneys. Little Sis loved her plate of bhaja with Gobindobhog bhaat. The Gondhoraj Bhetki too was delicious. We also had daab chingri, railway mutton curry, kaanchalonka murgi and another bhetki dish. The star was however the Nolen Gur er ice cream, it was totally out  of the world and even my parents, who were not impressed by any of the other dishes, agreed that the ice cream was really something.

(Part 2 coming soon...)


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Phuchka na Fuchka -- street food in the house

The House usually lies empty at ten in the morning.
Quiet.
Except for the sounds that the house makes.

Creak of the wood frames.
Squeaks in the attic.
Hiss of the heating pipes that run unseen.
Rattle of the shingles.
Murmur of the wind across the glass window panes.

Ten is a time for the house to be by itself, to do as it pleases. Probably it soaks itself in the winter sun, stretches its limbs, relaxes and drinks a cup of tea in leisure.Maybe it turns on the TV and watches "Real Housewives of LA" in the glare of the sun.I don't know if it throws pakori and chai parties on days when the sky is grey and there is rain drumming on the windows but I have a hunch that on particularly cold days, when the sun is toasty and warm, it probably takes a nap.

As the sun shifts, throwing shadows from this room to that, circling the house, peeking in through one bedroom window and then another, the house dances, plays music and patiently waits.

And then the shadows get longer. The house shifts, wraps up the sun soaked throws, plumps up the cushions and gets ready. The creaks and the murmurs quieten. They know the house will no longer be by itself. With the yellow bus rolling to a stop at the curb, footsteps will run through the garage and voices will fill the house.

Today I was there with the house. It behaved very well, polite and well-mannered. No raucous parties. No tantrums. I soaked up the sun, took a nap, and  kept thinking how lucky the house was.

And then I made myself some Phuchka.

A very different ambiance to have Phuchka, I must say. I don't know how the "phuchka" felt in this ultra sterile and quiet environment. It probably missed the giggling young girls with their long and short plaits, their hearts yet to see disappointments, standing in a circle around the "phuckawallah", asking for more tamarind water, begging for a "fau". Sitting there, the phuchka probably gloated with pride and self-importance, its chest pumped high with all the attention.

Today I am sure it was bored, serving a middle aged woman , in a squeaky clean home with no sweat or dirt in site. It probably complained to the house. I couldn't hear them talk but I did hear them whisper.

It didn't bother me.I stood by the kitchen island, shoving my phuchka with the potato stuffing and then dunking it in tamarind water. Popping each ball in my mouth it crossed my mind that I will probably never stand in a circle around the phuchkawallah, with a posse of girls, begging for a fau again. Those days lie far behind. The burst of the sour "tentul jwol" in my mouth is something I will always enjoy though.

A few days ago I had made phuchka for Big Sis and few of her friends who had come over for a movie and pizza evening. They watched "The Fault in our Stars" and I hesitantly served them phuchka  to start off.  The girls were super excited at the mere mention of "golgappa". They weren't cynical enough to distinguish between phuchka, panipuri and Golgappa, so all was good. I had toned down the spices that day and some of them vouched that they can handle more "hot spice" than this.

Today for only myself, I upped the green chillies though. I have no measurements and I tasted and adjusted the spices. It is very simple so I am sure you can do the same. I used ready made puris but if you want to make your own KichuKhon has the recipe.

Tentul Jol or Tamarind Water

To make the tamarind water, soak a ball of seedless tamarind in about 2 cups of warm water for 15 minutes. After the tamarind softens, rub with your fingers to extract the tamarind pulp and mix it with the water.

Now strain this mixture into another bowl to get the tamarind water without any pulp

To the strained water add
Rock Salt/Kala Namak or Pink Salt
Bhaja Masla (Toast cumin seeds and red chilli and then grind to powder)
paste of 2 green chillies
little sugar
little lime juice
Chat masala
few coriander leaves finely chopped
Taste and adjust the above

Mix well and add about 1 cup more water.

For the Potatoes

Boil and mash Potatoes

Separately boil some yellow peas

To the potatoes add
Rock Salt/Kala Namak or Pink Salt
Bhaja Masla (Toast cumin seeds and red chilli and then grind to powder)
Chopped green chilli
Red chilli powder
few tsp of the tamarind water

Taste and adjust the spices in the mashed potatoes

Now add the yellow peas to the potatoes and mix well.

For the final Phuchka

Buy a packet of ready made panipuri

Toast them a little in the oven for you don't know how long they have been sitting at the grocers

Tap the puri at the center. Fill with potatoes. Dunk in tamarind water. Pop into your mouth

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Fish Batter Fry or Fish Orly -- Bengali Style

I think I have said a million times on my blog, that I have spent a big chunk of my growing up years outside Kolkata. And by outside, I do not mean merely the suburbs, the once quiet localities where now the city has encroached with malls et al. But I talk about  places still further, where if you boarded the express train at night after dinner, you would wake up just outside Kolkata with the morning sounds of "Cha-Gorom Cha-Cha Gorom" from the chaiwallahs. This is just to make clear that even though I have lived later in Calcutta later, I am not as familiar with the so-called institutions of Kolkata as many of you are.

For a large part of my childhood, Kolkata, remained the city of winter vacations,wrapped in embroidered Kashmiri shawls and smelling of rich brown fruit cakes. December was the only time of the year when we would be spending one whole month at my Dida's home, eating, lazing and generally having the kind of time which memories are made of. Somewhere nestled among the sun soaked winter afternoons in Alipore zoo, escalator rides at RBI and the Birla museum, there were also "biyebaris",  weddings of several removed cousins of my Mother's and the wedding feast catered during the occasion.

The menu at these biyebaris scored high above those in our mofussil towns and the one thing I liked most about them was the "fish fry" served with slivers of purple onion and mustard at the start of the meal. Fillet of fish, usually Bhetki, was rolled in a coating of eggs and breadcrumb and then deep fried, to make the brown, crunchy fish fry. This technique, I later learned, is called "breading". One bite in the the crunchy outer layer, revealed the sweet fish inside, taking you straight to food heaven.

"Fish Fry" was a rage in the late 70's and early eighties in Kolkata and a wedding feast was not complete without them. Other than the weddings, fish fry was also sold at some restaurants and my uncles would often bring them home, packed in a paper bag with tell tale signs of oil spots and an aura of fried food around them. This delicacy was not available in the town we lived and so after a year's wait, the breaded fish fry in Calcutta seemed as magical as a snowflake to the child in the tropics.

When I asked my readers on Facebook, to nominate a Bengali dish to represent "F" in "A-Z of Bengali cuisine", a huge number said Fish Fry. Totally after my heart. This delightful and delicious example of the Anglo-Indian influence on Bengali cooking definitely deserves to be featured in "F".

The Anglo-Bangla Fish Fry

However I noticed that a substantial number of votes in the same thread went for "Fish Orly" Some were more specific and said "Bijoli Grill's Fish Orly". Now Fish Orly, is a batter fried fish preparation which I had never been particularly fond of. I am not a Kolkata veteran and the few times I have tried the "Bijoli Grill Fish Orly" at Nandan, I have not been blown off my feet. Maybe it is just me but I found "fish orly" greasy and not a match to the crunchy breaded "fish fry".I am sure, I ate fish orly at the wrong places all the time, and that is the reason never really appreciated this masterpiece.

At that time I had no idea what an "orly" was supposed to be, but cooking makes you learn a lot of things and only last week I learned that -- "À l'Orly is a French cooking term used to describe a preparation method usually used with fish fillets. The fish is usually a white fish such as sole, perch or cod.The fillets are skinned, battered and deep fried."

By the early 90's "fish orly" and "fish butter fry" (probably a mispronounced "fish batter fry") had shoved "fish fry" off the Bengali wedding menus. Bijoli Grill caterers were primarily responsible for introducing Fish Orly to the Bengali palate and most people loved it . They raved about it. The only thing I liked was the rolling of the french sounding name on my tongue. It made me feel oddly Parisian without an ounce of idea that "orly" was a French cooking term. I was clearly the square peg.

After the Facebook comments however, I decided to look up the hoo-haa over "Fish Orly". The technique sounded pretty simple. I had some swai filet in the freezer waiting to go in the oven. All else looked good, so instead of the oven, the fish's fate were decided in the orly. "If the Universe conspires and so forth..." .

I marinated the fish almost same as in a Fish Fry, a tad simpler actually. Then for the batter, I used an amalgamation of recipes on the internet for "batter fried fish". Some suggested corn flour but I skipped it. Flour, eggs, water, baking soda was it. Maybe a little more of the baking soda would have made the coating more airy but I decided to stick to a pinch. On a cold winter evening, the hot fried fish tasted pretty good. The girls loved it to the hilt. I still found it oily and realized that it tastes best when had right off the fryer.

Maybe that is why I never liked it in all those years ?

Fish Batter Fry or Fish Orly

I had fillets of Swai cut in 10 pieces. Each piece was about a 3"x 2" piece or smaller. You can use fillet of fish like Bhetki if in India or Cod, Tilapia when Bhetki is not available.

Make a paste of
2-3 fat cloves of garlic,
1 tbsp of peeled & chopped ginger,
2 green chili
with little vinegar. This is the paste that will be used to marinate the fish.

Alternately marinate with
1 tbsp of ginger paste(homemade)
1 tbsp garlic paste

Put the fish pieces in one single layer in a shallow bowl. Sprinkle salt and pepper to taste on them.

Marinade the fish pieces with
the paste from step 2,
1 tbsp of vinegar, 
squeeze of a quarter of lime
Make sure that all of the fish pieces are nicely coated with the marinade

Cover & refrigerate overnight. If in a hurry, half an hour to an hour is fine.

For the batter

In a bowl sift
1 Cup of All-Purpose Flour/Maida
a pinch of baking soda(approx. 1/4 tsp)
salt to taste
pepper powder to taste

To it add
1 egg beaten
1 Cup of  Water
1 tsp of vegetable oil

Whisk to make a smooth batter like you would for pancakes. Keep the batter aside for 10 minutes

Now heat enough oil for deep frying

Dip each piece of fish in the batter to coat and then deep fry in hot oil. Keep the heat to medium-high during frying. Fry each side for about 3 minutes each until the fish gets a golden coat.

Eat 'em hot.



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