tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-45433566543965192412024-03-17T02:55:04.849-05:00Adhi PotobaAdhi Potobahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07410548589656234414noreply@blogger.comBlogger103125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4543356654396519241.post-44558001102979270332014-03-20T07:14:00.002-05:002014-03-20T07:16:28.961-05:00Protein Packed Idli<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCu6QVhr0gG6jYyuklu7QbHsoOdH-0UPFq5q8gJY6mH61EDnJbjNz6psjTvPbFqNU-6prn2whe6fm-PNRYTZQbYbMTnqoY3QA78jqJeTNGkDpxwnhBw_G3yMvGGa2G0FYYy4wDZqT_zqn8/s1600/P1030178.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCu6QVhr0gG6jYyuklu7QbHsoOdH-0UPFq5q8gJY6mH61EDnJbjNz6psjTvPbFqNU-6prn2whe6fm-PNRYTZQbYbMTnqoY3QA78jqJeTNGkDpxwnhBw_G3yMvGGa2G0FYYy4wDZqT_zqn8/s1600/P1030178.JPG" height="237" width="320" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I have been away for a long time and a lot has happened while I was gone. Changed a few jobs, became an artist, an entrepreneur, got separated from my beloved wife and started eating healthy. With all the questions one might ask about the above list, I’ll talk about the most important, eating healthy. I’ve indulged in many unnecessary fads in the past couple of years—veganism, vegetarianism, gluten free diets, raw diets, not to mention excessive Instagramming, Facebooking and Twittering. The one thing I can proudly say is that I never became a Kardashian fan! I’m over all of it, at least on the diet front and back to the one diet that sticks—the desi diet! During the past couple of years, I did pick up quite a few new recipes and modified old ones to fit my diet. Idli’s although full of carbs have the potential to pack a major protein punch. Especially, when you modify the ingredients to include protein rich beans and reduce the amount of rice.<br /><br /><b>Ingredients </b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">3/4 cup Udad (black matpe bean)<br />3/4 cup Mung Bean<br />1 Cup Brown Basmati Rice<br />Salt to taste<br />Oil for greasing pan.<br /><br /><b>Method </b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Soak Urad and Mung in one container and Rice in another container overnight<br />Blend into a batter separately<br />Mix the two batters and allow to ferment overnight<br />Add salt next morning and mix thoroughly allowing the risen batter to fall<br />Grease idli or dhokla pans and pour batter generously allowing for enough space to rise<br />Steam for about 10 min<br />Remove from steamer<br />Serve with Tamarind or Coconut Chutney.</span><br />
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Adhi Potobahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07410548589656234414noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4543356654396519241.post-33719695896860085192010-04-08T11:15:00.003-05:002010-04-08T11:19:23.756-05:00Besan Dosa<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdLIHyr9qmapj4TXRkqmBQZRS14CJOpFO4IWUKUxfflUJd_eloNDgSpq1q-RqHYAOaoAfQyKY5iQBXgylsFNHWVU48zUS2DgEmqwxNo-p-KimiyvNhMBEtMu7HkaCIyCOR8rQM8IMLOWiK/s1600/besan+dosa.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdLIHyr9qmapj4TXRkqmBQZRS14CJOpFO4IWUKUxfflUJd_eloNDgSpq1q-RqHYAOaoAfQyKY5iQBXgylsFNHWVU48zUS2DgEmqwxNo-p-KimiyvNhMBEtMu7HkaCIyCOR8rQM8IMLOWiK/s320/besan+dosa.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457801646467751410" border="0" /></a><br /><br />In Pune you’re never more than a few hundred feet away from a place that serves a hot, crisp dosa. I, like many others I know, grew up getting my daily requirement of dosa from Hotel Vaishali. And for most of us Puneris, Vaishali will always remain the golden standard by which all dosas will be judged. When I returned to India a few years back for a brief visit, a friend of mine wanted to take me to a ‘hip’, new dosa joint, which in itself is an oxymoron. We arrived at a place called Dosa Hut, located on the corner where Bhandarkar Rd meets Jangli Maharaj Rd and housed in what used to be the old Café Sunrise. It had just opened when I first visited. The abmience was a little overwhelming for a restaurant that made it’s living by selling dosas. I kept an open mind; that was until the menu arrived. Veg Jaipuri Dosa, Paneer Bhurji Dosa and the killer, I kid you not, Chicken Manchurian Dosa. I understand the need to be different in a saturated marked, but this was just insane (not to mention 40% more expensive than the best dosa in Pune). I looked at the menu once again, because it deserved a second look. My first question was, “why?” So did you just take the ‘masala out of the dosa and just replace it with generic Punjabi and desi Chinese dishes? Or was this an ill-conceived plot to overthrow the almighty naan? Was there any point to completely ruining two good dishes to create one disastrous hybrid? All for the sake of being different. I can’t really remember what I ordered there and but I do remember leaving the place rather confused. And I am not sure if the restaurant is still there either. If one wishes to go against the grain using the dosa, then why not change the dosa itself? I have seen so many recipes from food bloggers that have completely redefined the dosa using new ingredients from oatmeal to ladyfingers. Here’s one of my favourites.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Ingredients</span><br /><ul><li>2 cups of Besan Flour (Chickpea)</li><li>½ tsp Cumin powder</li><li>¼ tsp Turmeric</li><li>¼ tsp Chili Powder</li><li>1 Chili grated</li><li>¾ tsp Grated Ginger</li><li>½ tsp Cilantro finely chopped</li><li>Salt to taste</li><li>Water</li></ul><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Method</span><br /><ul><li>In a bowl, mix the flour, cumin, turmeric, chili powder and salt</li><li>Add water to the mixture and mix till you achieve a dosa batter like consistency</li><li>Add the remaining herbs and mix thoroughly</li><li>Heat a skillet or Tawa and pour a ladel of batter on it</li><li>Spread the dosa thin using a large spoon. (Watch the video below)</li><li>Serve with fresh coconut chutney</li></ul><object height="385" width="480"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/56UFhVUEbhM&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/56UFhVUEbhM&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="385" width="480"></embed></object>Adhi Potobahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07410548589656234414noreply@blogger.com34tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4543356654396519241.post-87986488084120219312010-03-11T11:32:00.009-05:002010-03-16T11:50:55.575-05:00Vegan Hot and Sour Soup<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjZ7vwd-ER_KNB5K62P_VwC87qipTM6YLWPAUOSny1yK71d1wLv2nuimcOzJLqqiL6BvuVw1ZttZVhs3LOXywn-qoFNdZxQXIFnvfpAPMJ602KFoGMwZPgRdq5ddKFBt9MdsSKlWKZSXPg/s1600-h/Veg+Hot+and+Sour+Soup.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 275px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjZ7vwd-ER_KNB5K62P_VwC87qipTM6YLWPAUOSny1yK71d1wLv2nuimcOzJLqqiL6BvuVw1ZttZVhs3LOXywn-qoFNdZxQXIFnvfpAPMJ602KFoGMwZPgRdq5ddKFBt9MdsSKlWKZSXPg/s320/Veg+Hot+and+Sour+Soup.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447556119564387138" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://www.facebook.com/search/?q=Teja+main+hoon%2C+mark+idhar+hai.&init=quick#%21/group.php?gid=94761089762&ref=search&sid=782222728.2718091046..1">“<i>Teja main hoon, mark idhar hai.</i>”</a> The most memorable dialogue from what was possibly one of the funniest films to come out of Bombay and one that steered clear of the usual <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bollywood">Bollywood</a> formula. Never before had a Hindi movie so brilliantly paid homage to the fine art of buffoonery. One rarely sees a movie anymore where each of the characters has a perfectly measured role that lends so well to the movie; right from <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tiku_Talsania">Tiku Talsania</a>’s jittery inspector to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shakti_Kapoor">Shakti Kapoor</a>’s “<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Andaz_Apna_Apna">Crime Master Gogo</a>”. I remember the movie had opened at the newly redone West End theatre on Main Street, Camp, in 1994 and a small group of 24 of my closest friends had gone to see it, first day, first show style. I had been robbed before of what little pocket money I had by Bollywood’s lame attempts at being funny and I didn’t expect anything more from this one. But as soon as I saw <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aamir_Khan">Amir Khan</a> pedal his bike in the dream sequence, it felt promising. <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0109117/">Andaz Apna Apna</a> was an <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0109117/usercomments?start=10">instant classic</a>, and the kind that I watched over and over till the VHS tape was too scratched to play any more. Watching really great Bollywood movie, an extremely rare event, is a thoroughly satisfying event in itself (especially, having watched the other atrocities this public was part of for the better part of their careers). However the trend set by the movie continued into the night. Right after the movie our small group of two-dozen made it to the <a href="http://snsvo2.seekandsource.com/chineseroom/">Chinese Room</a> on East Street, two blocks away. A great evening should always end with great food. And at that point, there was no place in camp, which could beat the place that brought <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Indian_Chinese_cuisine">Chinese food</a> to Pune. The movie high was transferred to a foodie high instantly as a long table was populated with various combinations of <a href="http://www.khanakhazana.com/recipes/view.aspx?id=627">manchurians</a>, spring rolls, soups, fried rice and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/American_chop_suey">chopsueys</a>. As the night ended the victorious got on their scooters and returned to their respective quarters, hearts filled with content and bellies filled with assorted meats.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Ingredients:</span><br /><ul><li>½ cup Carrots chopped</li><li>½ cup Mushrooms sliced</li><li>½ cup Green Peas</li><li>½ cup Corn</li><li>¼ cup Spring Onion</li><li>¼ cup Green Beans julienne cut</li><li>1 tsp Lemon Juice</li><li>2 tsp crushed Garlic</li><li>2 tbsp Ginger finely chopped</li><li>1 ½ tbsp Sesame Seed Oil</li><li>1 tsp Chili Oil</li><li>5 Vegan / Vegetarian Bullion Cubes (adjust according to flavour)</li><li>8 cups Water</li></ul><span style="font-weight: bold;">Method</span><br /><ol><li>Heat a large pot and add sesame seed oil to it</li><li>Add garlic, ginger and chilli flakes while oil is still cool</li><li>Once the garlic/ginger begin to splatter, add vegetables (carrots, mushrooms, peas, corn, beans, spring onion) and sauté</li><li>Add water and bullion cubes and allow it to cook on high for 15 min and then reduce heat to medium for another 15 minutes</li><li>Add Lemon juice and chili oil, stir and turn heat off</li><li>Serve hot</li></ol>Adhi Potobahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07410548589656234414noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4543356654396519241.post-58327559102559682062010-01-31T22:08:00.005-05:002010-12-11T11:39:39.165-05:00Cauliflower Pakora<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB3zCmpl_s1U8sO2jVpB-EIQRYL0H6yymXEo99XYK8MHpOBmfLMh7NVfXgNwjwiptdmlB_Ay5tNDEXJaF1tAXddOR0dIyhIvicvYZsUiSQ0MfUTengzXQ1Zij29LplzYJTiZ0PjgbsHfYV/s1600-h/Cauliflower+Pakora.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 278px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB3zCmpl_s1U8sO2jVpB-EIQRYL0H6yymXEo99XYK8MHpOBmfLMh7NVfXgNwjwiptdmlB_Ay5tNDEXJaF1tAXddOR0dIyhIvicvYZsUiSQ0MfUTengzXQ1Zij29LplzYJTiZ0PjgbsHfYV/s320/Cauliflower+Pakora.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433106968531494498" /></a><br /><!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Following my wedding on my last trip, I decided to take my firang wife to a city that offers a little more of the India that is promised in travel books than what Pune can offer. And after an impromptu flight to Jaipur, we settled in a generic hotel, the name of which escapes me at the moment. It was a quaint little place and by quaint I mean management had absolutely no interest in managing the it. It was the kind that makes your local lodge look like a 5 star hotel. The restaurant part of the hotel consisted of 7 tables haphazardly huddled into a room attached to a kitchen. The food however was spectacular. They had some pretty good pakoras, the likes of which I have never had before. Their cauliflower pakoras were especially memorable. My most memorable moment in said restaurant, however, was when I asked for some sugar to go with my coffee. I discovered some ants in my sugar and summoned the waiter immediately. As I referred him the ants in my sugar he gave me a look that suggested disappointment more than disgust. He picked up the bowl, blew on it as hard as he could and placed it back on the table. Sure enough the ants were gone. That was the moment I realized that the fault was my own, for in the motherland ants in your food is not an issue, just a minor detail. And after living in the US for over a decade I had forgotten the most important lesson growing up in India has taught me—If life hands you lemons, you f-ing deal with it without making an issue and move on with life. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;color:#333333;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Ingredients</span></b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:arial, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Florets from 1 Cauliflower</span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">1 cup </span></span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Besan"><span style="text-decoration:none;text-underline:nonecolor:#6288A5;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">besan</span></span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> (chick pea flour)</span></span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:arial, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">1 cup Water</span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:arial, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">1 tsp Cumin powder</span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:arial, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">1 tsp Chilli powder</span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:arial, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">1 tsp Turmeric powder</span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:arial, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Pinch of baking soda</span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:arial, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Salt to taste.</span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:arial, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Oil for frying</span></span></li></ul><p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Method</span></span></b></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"></p><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:arial, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Mix besan, cumin, chilli. turmeric, soda and salt in a bowl</span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:arial, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Add water slowly and stir the mixture as you do.</span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:arial, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Add water till water turns to a runny paste.</span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:arial, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Heat the oil in a wok. Turn flame to medium heat once oil is hot.</span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:arial, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Dip a cauliflower floret in the besan mixture till it is completely coated and fry the potato.</span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:arial, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Be careful not to over crowd the wok. You can put 5-6 pakoras in at a time.</span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Serve with </span></span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tamarind"><span style="text-decoration:none;text-underline:nonecolor:#6288A5;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">tamarind</span></span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> & date or mint chutney</span></span></span></li></ul><p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><o:p></o:p></p> <!--EndFragment-->Adhi Potobahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07410548589656234414noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4543356654396519241.post-86729133904944548732010-01-02T15:53:00.004-05:002010-01-02T16:35:46.943-05:00Vada Pav<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmZ8kcqmj8zSCantzOsw166Hy2bg4eH8xA9g9Kyx4o5hjDywzqz2b96FAiDl8qVtA4-hhAB7hhZ2T3BZqc1G1uUlSunju_zeUgNmHGdfeCxLwg_NR7NAZzAs4QRpiH5zqvJex-EUjcM7yq/s1600-h/vada+pav.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 271px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmZ8kcqmj8zSCantzOsw166Hy2bg4eH8xA9g9Kyx4o5hjDywzqz2b96FAiDl8qVtA4-hhAB7hhZ2T3BZqc1G1uUlSunju_zeUgNmHGdfeCxLwg_NR7NAZzAs4QRpiH5zqvJex-EUjcM7yq/s320/vada+pav.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422249303399669970" /></a><!--StartFragment--><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">To a Puneite living abroad, especially the US, the worst part of the journey home isn’t the eighteen-plus hour plane ride home, it’s the miserable three and a half hour car ride to Pune after landing in Bombay. It goes something like this. After careful calculation of vacation days the momentous decision to visit home is reached a couple of months before the actual journey and thus begins the saga of finding the perfect (cheapest) ticket. Browsing through many sites, with multiple windows open at one time, carefully considering the layovers, and chat consultations with fellow desis, all done in office time, a purchase is made. No sooner does the itinerary hit the inbox, it is forwarded to at least 4 family members and 8 friends. And if you’re lucky, they won’t all show up to pick you up at the airport in one car. The day of the journey arrives and the sojourner leaves for the airport with maximum allowable baggage and a list of explanations for Indian customs about how it is all within the allowance. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">After an 18-hour journey and up to 6 award-winning airline meals (I don’t know of a single airline that doesn’t claim that their food isn’t award-winning) the jumbo jet touches the motherland. After the gastro-intestinal assault, it’s time for olfactory annihilation, and the Mumbai air is only happy to oblige. Thus arrives the prodigal son (or daughter) to the motherland weary, chaffed and slightly constipated. No matter what fly-by-night operator you use, a trip originating from the US somehow ends up reaching Bombay around midnight. Once out of the plane your first greeting is the indifference of the immigration officer at CST, the delay in anything appearing on the luggage conveyor and the harassment by customs. These are all just mere hurdles between you and the warm hug that you’ll receive from your posse waiting for you outside the airport if you know where the exit is. Life would be so much simpler if CST airport didn’t change so damn much every 12 months. The last leg of the journey to Punyanagri thus starts.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> This time around, I had the pleasure of taking the Bombay-Pune midnight express twice as my wife and I arrived in Pune a week apart and I had to go back to bring her to Pune. Her flight arrived at 2:30 a.m. and after one Akshay Kumar brought the airport to a standstill for an hour, she emerged out of the door at around 4:00 a.m. We started for Pune with one of my dearest friends. Over the bridges and through poorly designed signage, unnecessary construction and everything Bombay can throw at you we finally made it to the express highway. This journey is truly awful, but there are some bright spots along the way like the Khandala Ghat and the new truck stops that are for some reason called malls. We stopped at one such mall, the one before Khandala Ghat starts. I would say that I can’t remember the name, but the truth is that at 5:45 a.m., I really didn’t care what the name of that place was. It wasn’t as busy as it would be during the day, but at a quarter to six, what place really is. My firang wife pointed to the glass case filled with the “orange potato dumplings”. And against my better judgment, we all had the orange potato dumplings. Two sandwiched in buns with green chilies and one without. My wife didn’t think deep-fried potato sandwiched in white bread was a healthy option. That was until she saw the culinary delight known as the bread pakora. It wasn’t the greatest Vada-Pav I have had, but it was definitely the first one I had just before sunrise, and after a night of no sleep and 250 km, it tasted pretty darn good with a cup of chai in a flimsy plastic cup.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-weight: bold; font-family:Georgia-Bold, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Ingredients</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-weight: bold; font-family:Georgia-Bold, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">For stuffing</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"></p><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">4 Potatoes boiled and peeled</span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">1 Onion finely chopped (optional)</span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">6 Chillis finely chopped</span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">6 Garlic cloves crushed</span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">2 tbsp Ginger grated or paste</span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">1 Lemon juiced</span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">1/2 cup Cilantro / Coriander finely chopped</span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">1 tsp salt</span></span></li></ul><p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-weight: bold; font-family:Georgia-Bold, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">For batter</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"></p><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">2 cups Besan (Chickpea flour)</span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">1 tsp Chili powder</span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">1 tsp Turmeric</span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">1/2 tsp Cumin Powder</span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">1/4 tsp Baking soda</span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">1 tsp Salt</span></span></li></ul><p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-weight: bold; font-family:Georgia-Bold, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Method</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"></p><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">In a pan mash potatoes, onion, chilis, garlic, ginger, lemon, coriander and salt into a solid mixture making sure that the potatoes don't have any large lumps.</span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Make small balls the size of a golf ball</span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Place aside</span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Mix besan, chilli powder, turmeric, cumin, baking soda and salt in a bowl</span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Add water and mix till it turns into a thick batter</span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Heat oil in a wok</span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Dip the potato balls in the batter and deep fry till golden</span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Take a Pav and tear it open keeping them together at one edge</span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Place one hot Vada in the Pav and serve with deep fried green chilies on the side</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "> </span></span></li></ul><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <!--EndFragment-->Adhi Potobahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07410548589656234414noreply@blogger.com28tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4543356654396519241.post-80579358687106575592009-12-05T20:21:00.003-05:002009-12-05T20:26:07.092-05:00Homemade Potato Chips<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFmzJ_5ig-ItXDZMP60wiH9uRz930NJQGWvfpoYP36fWFYES0cYwbDk_EZwmDO-6QMsziNW2v8AnwaPl7JSQmZYkQ9y6J2Yo4QeiPQZwzAiFIdgQcnE_E_gJ3CRNxPNLOnj25786X8xVwD/s1600-h/Wafers.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 199px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFmzJ_5ig-ItXDZMP60wiH9uRz930NJQGWvfpoYP36fWFYES0cYwbDk_EZwmDO-6QMsziNW2v8AnwaPl7JSQmZYkQ9y6J2Yo4QeiPQZwzAiFIdgQcnE_E_gJ3CRNxPNLOnj25786X8xVwD/s320/Wafers.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411928009245550338" /></a><p class="MsoNormal">The month of May in Pune is a time for summer vacation, over-chlorinated swimming pools, Alphonso mangoes and 40º C plus temperatures. It is also time for the industrious Puneri housewife to make homemade kurdai, papadi and potato chips. There isn’t a Puneri worth his salt that hasn’t slipped on or walked over a sheet full of sticky sabudana papad freshly laid out to dehydrate in the scorching summer sun. One of the most common sights of the Maharashtrian summer is an assortment of papads spread over sheets of tarp on roofs, terraces, courtyards and any flat surface that had the potential for catching a bit of the sun, irrespective of its inconvenience to the passerby. I always wondered “Why would you toil for a whole day making the batter, spend another couple of hours laying them in the sun, employ the area kids to make sure the birds aren’t stealing them and in a week you’d have a substandard side-dish that one can totally live without?” Not to mention these are readily available at any neighbourhood store—and really cheap, too. Although I must say, my cricket skills would have been even more lacklustre, if I didn’t have to submit to the rule that if the ball were to land directly on any of Mrs. Natoo’s papads, you’re out!! And as if that wasn’t punishment enough, an addendum to the rule stated that the retrieval of said ball would become the sole responsibility of the batsman.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b> Ingredients</b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><o:p></o:p></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"></p><ul><li>2 Whole boiled Potatoes</li><li>Chili powder</li><li>Salt to taste</li><li>Oil for deep frying</li></ul><o:p></o:p><p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b>Method</b><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"></p><ul><li>Using a slicer make thin slices of the potatoes over a sheet of plastic making sure the potatoes do not overlap</li><li>Place the sheet directly in the sun (or better yet, start the slicing outdoors in the sun) and allow the potatoes to dehydrate for a day or two</li><li>When completely dehydrated, they’re ready to fry</li><li>In a wok, take enough oil for deep-frying</li><li>Put 7-8 slices at a time</li><li>When slices puff up, remove and place over an absorbing sheet (like a newspaper or tissue)</li><li>Drizzle chili powder and salt over chips as per taste</li><li>Serve without guilt</li></ul><o:p></o:p><p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <!--EndFragment-->Adhi Potobahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07410548589656234414noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4543356654396519241.post-5658272116478059262009-11-21T23:42:00.004-05:002010-12-11T20:12:25.373-05:00Bhutta (Fire Roasted Corn on the Cob)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4QUeHyX55t-nq1N4vw9ol-XjAHInfXkyNDmeSmPOdbENkY_reZVC4O-kOfku4wqDomXYx9K0UwFGEmAwBx2FUc0F5zKk-6lYrb9M2-6D-TCKYnP1HmTlZxQv-vExESmzsxWq5iAcFj6PT/s1600/Bhutta.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4QUeHyX55t-nq1N4vw9ol-XjAHInfXkyNDmeSmPOdbENkY_reZVC4O-kOfku4wqDomXYx9K0UwFGEmAwBx2FUc0F5zKk-6lYrb9M2-6D-TCKYnP1HmTlZxQv-vExESmzsxWq5iAcFj6PT/s320/Bhutta.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406784274526142082" border="0" /></a><br />The year was 1988 and my mediocre performance in the SSC exams was followed by successful admission to the science stream at the prestigious Fergusson College with little help from my dear aunt who headed the Dept. of Physics. A decision she no doubt came to regret after going over my attendance record and my report card. As it is common knowledge, junior college is best attended as a casual student and yours truly took that piece of advice to heart. As a result, most of my time at Fergusson was spent either in deep, 'scholastic' discussions at <a href="http://www.vaishalihotel.in/">Vaishali</a> or under the eight odd tin sheds outside the main gate that served as two-wheeler parking. The bicycle stand was an excellent alternative to attending class, except for one problem — there wasn't any food readily available. However, all was not bleak among the Hero Hondas! Stationed right outside the gate of the ladies was a <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/vivekthakyal/3762347994/">bhuttawala</a>. With a pyramid of corn and a large bowl of live coals and the right combination of lemon, salt and chili, his corn hit the spot for many bicycle shed dwellers. The FC road bhuttawala provided the much needed 3:00 p.m. comfort as well as a reason to carry dental floss in the glove compartment of my Kinetic Honda.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Ingredients:</span><br /><ul><li>1 ear of Corn</li><li>1 tsp Salt</li><li>1 tsp Chili</li><li>1 tsp Ghee</li><li>1/2 Lemon</li></ul><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Method</span><br /><ol><li>Roast the corn over an open flame till it has blackened evenly</li><li>While still hot take some ghee in your hands and rub all over the corn</li><li>Mix the chili and salt</li><li>Dip lemon in the mixture and rub it on the corn while gently squeezing it making sure that the salt, chili and lemon juice are evenly coated on the corn</li></ol>Enjoy hot, ideally on a two-wheeler under a treeAdhi Potobahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07410548589656234414noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4543356654396519241.post-19859797257804863142009-11-15T12:59:00.008-05:002009-11-21T23:46:17.434-05:00Kheema Pattice<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyQhidWrXiiDbxSef1GdINuJx52ysoJcgKXq73zhdEikUO_HgO-391kNy4k01ZS64nPwrsx7dyujsD2XT2KkrRxzMXic7JjcPU_UyfCwXEU5tFYdcIXZMO4mV5Us5q-1w9sdPTfR5EZQaI/s1600-h/keema+pattice.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyQhidWrXiiDbxSef1GdINuJx52ysoJcgKXq73zhdEikUO_HgO-391kNy4k01ZS64nPwrsx7dyujsD2XT2KkrRxzMXic7JjcPU_UyfCwXEU5tFYdcIXZMO4mV5Us5q-1w9sdPTfR5EZQaI/s320/keema+pattice.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404398672476391778" border="0" /></a><br /><!--StartFragment--> <!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoBodyText">Long before Tendulkar and somewhere between <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mohammad_Azharuddin">Azhar</a> making his debut and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ravi_Shastri">Ravi Shastri</a> being declared '<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ravi_Shastri#The_.27Champion_of_Champions.27">Champion of Champions</a>' India decided that the time was to introduce some Western <i>ishtyle</i> fast food. The result — Big Bite, a culinary hodge-podge that was a cross between a burger and a pita. A small, oblong, <span style=""> </span>lightly-spiced<span style=""> </span>meat or vegetable patty microwaved and stuffed inside a half egg-shaped bun along with onion slices and a generous squirt of <a href="http://www.kissanfood.com/">Kissan</a> tomato sauce. It tasted every bit as bad as it sounds. The Big Bite logo, too, was a winner. It consisted of the words Big Bite in Times Roman sandwiched between two luscious red lips with a giant highlight. It looked more like an X-rated venture more than anything to do with food. In Pune, the most forward thinking and modern of all politicians, <span style=""> </span>one 'honourable' <a href="http://www.sureshkalmadi.org/">Mr. Suresh Kalmadi</a>, in all his bearded wisdom, tried to cash in on this 'thing' all the youngsters seemed to be into. He immediately carved a piece out of his Poona Coffee House restaurant and converted it into the cool place where supposedly all the kids influenced by the Break Dance movies would then hang out. Big Bite was a national chain supported by a strong media presence and a good advertising campaign. But the old advertising slogan "Nothing kills a bad product faster than good advertising" held true and Big Bite lost steam faster than it took to microwave the lame meat patties. I guess the answer to the question posed at the end of every Big Bite ad "Don't you feel like a Big Bite now?" was pretty evident. About 50 ft down the same block from Big Bite in Pune, our friends at Borawke's completely ignorant of the competition were doing what they did best — grilling and frying meats. The mutton pattice they served was one of best foods I have ever tasted, and had Big-Bite served that instead, maybe they would still be around.</p> <!--EndFragment--> <p></p><p class="MsoBodyText"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Ingredients:</span></p><span style="font-weight: bold;">For filling:</span><br /><ul><li>1 lb lamb extra-lean kheema (minced)</li><li>2 large onions finely chopped</li><li>2 large tomatoes finely chopped</li><li>5 cloves of garlic crushed or 1 tsp paste</li><li>1 tsp ginger paste</li><li>1 tsp ginger-garlic paste</li><li>4 tsp chopped cilantro</li><li>1 lemon</li><li>2 tsp chili powder</li><li>2 tsp turmeric powder</li><li>2 tsp garam-masala</li><li>Salt (or according to taste)</li><li>2 cups water</li><li>1/2 cup oil</li></ul><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">For Shell:</span><br /><ul><li>4 Potatoes boiled and mashed</li><li>2 beaten eggs</li><li>2 cups bread crumbs</li></ul><div><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />Method:</span><br /><ol><li>In a large pot heat oil on high and add ginger and garlic.</li><li>When the garlic starts to splatter add chopped onion</li><li>Once the onion browns on the edges, add tomato and stir</li><li>Allow it to cook for 5 min</li><li>Then add chili, turmeric and garam masala</li><li>Allow it to cook for a few minutes</li><li>Add one cup of water to make it loose and reduce flame to medium heat</li><li>Add the lamb gently and separate it making sure it is completely mixed with the spices</li><li>Gently stir and allow it to cook for a couple of minutes till the meatballs are firm</li><li>Add rest of the water and stir mixing thoroughly</li><li>Turn up heat between medium and high</li><li>Allow to cook till it water is completely reduced and only a thick mass of kheema remains</li><li>Place aside for 6-8 hours so the spices are absorbed well in the meat</li></ol><b><br /></b></div><div><b>To make Patties</b><br /><ol><li>Take a lemon-sized ball of the potato and flatten it</li><li>Place a tablespoon of Kheem at the center and fold the potato over it making sure that the filling is completely sealed</li><li>Pat is slightly to make shaped like a patty</li><li>Beat the eggs in a bowl</li><li>Dip the patty making sure all of it is coated with the egg</li><li>Then dredge the patty in the bread crumbs</li></ol><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Frying:</span><br /><ol><li>In a wok, heat enough oil for frying 2-3 patties at a time</li><li>When oil is hot turn the flame between medium and high</li><li>Fry the patties gently (remember these are very delicate and tend to break in the oil if not careful. Also this is another reason to make sure all the water from the kheema is gone)</li><li>When the patties are golden brown, remove from the wok</li></ol><br />Serve with tamarind or mint chutney</div>Adhi Potobahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07410548589656234414noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4543356654396519241.post-80042471050132127092009-11-08T15:36:00.003-05:002010-12-11T11:44:32.982-05:00Guava Raita<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRK7WFhGC1hC-bhF2SjXudho3DBJJg18LaCqdCyccZRkCQkya-06Ro1ZBHgZyzNHvpQ03nWIceZRx7fFVvAKI-QWAspAtsxtDxmO8zJvf3KepsBANDQTFOXvQR9jKBDC6v3OdglBesDM1m/s1600-h/Guaava+Raita.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRK7WFhGC1hC-bhF2SjXudho3DBJJg18LaCqdCyccZRkCQkya-06Ro1ZBHgZyzNHvpQ03nWIceZRx7fFVvAKI-QWAspAtsxtDxmO8zJvf3KepsBANDQTFOXvQR9jKBDC6v3OdglBesDM1m/s320/Guaava+Raita.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401834791624525954" border="0" /></a><br />There are certain things that schools in India guarantee — a good education, lifelong friendships and a <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/amoeda/461248379/sizes/o/">peruwala</a> outside every school gate. For those of you who didn’t go to school in India, a peruwala is a guava vendor and there’s one situated outside each school gate with a black <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/miteymiss/3651727430/sizes/l/">Atlas bicycle</a> and flat cane basket tied to the “carrier” over the rear wheel. The basket lined with grass is quartered with rope to separate the guavas by size and price. In my days, 75 paise (roughly 15¢ in 1988) would fetch you the biggest guava on the cart. It was harmless and inexpensive treat that made recess just that much sweeter. Cut into 4 quarters, each guava would then be filled with chili and salt — the thought of which freaks my firang wife out to this day. The guavawalla is a phenomenon I couldn’t quite understand. Why are there only peruwalas outside school? There’s never an apple cart or even an orange cart. Either way, memories of my post-lunch guava with friends are something I cherish to this day.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Ingredients</span><br />20 Monaco biscuits (or salty crackers)<br />2 ripe Guavas chopped<br />1 tsp finely chopped Coriander<br />1 cup Yogurt<br />4 tsp ground Peanuts<br />1/2 tsp Sugar<br />Salt to taste<br />1 tbsp Olive Oil<br />1/4 tsp Mustard seeds<br />1/2 tsp Cumin seeds<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Method</span><br />Beat yogurt in a bowl till it is a thick liquid<br />Mix coriander, peanuts, sugar and salt into the yogurt<br />Gently add the chopped guava into the bowl<br />Heat oil in a small pot<br />When the oil is hot add mustard and cumin seeds<br />When the seeds start to splatter reduce heat and pour the tempered mixture over the guavas<br />Mix well<br />Lay out the crackers and place a little dollop of the raita on each crackerAdhi Potobahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07410548589656234414noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4543356654396519241.post-43969028643305130232009-08-30T10:38:00.003-05:002009-08-30T10:47:53.811-05:00Watermelon Salad<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWWwcMreyFVxg6Z8DZGXl7MPlx8a5woMQ6LCX3KDRRhPZAbaFvCsfuon89JcTl8cpjaAHlMXm1t7gejpbIA4pGm7kRWyyFBaErEsAkYCkYJB-hzYtraBCnsQgLnW7g04xDCWofpAFxSfWq/s1600-h/DSC_0021.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 273px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWWwcMreyFVxg6Z8DZGXl7MPlx8a5woMQ6LCX3KDRRhPZAbaFvCsfuon89JcTl8cpjaAHlMXm1t7gejpbIA4pGm7kRWyyFBaErEsAkYCkYJB-hzYtraBCnsQgLnW7g04xDCWofpAFxSfWq/s320/DSC_0021.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375781842831764098" border="0" /></a>As April approaches, temperatures in Pune begin flirting the 40º C mark. But the sweltering heat also brings with it some very familiar sights. There are mango stalls on every corner, as are the “barf gola” people. Naral Pani walas are everywhere. And my favourite of them all, foothpaths and roadsides lined with mountains of watermelon. When I was in art school in Pune, college used to let out at 1:15 p.m. A sweet spot during the day in the summer months when the tar on the roads has just begun to melt, but it’s nowhere are hot as it’ll be at 4:00 p.m. As I traveled from my college on Tilak Rd to my residence on Law College Rd, I passed MES college on Karve Rd. Outside MES college was a watermelon vendor with atl east a 25 metre long wall of melons lined up against the college walls all the way up to the main gate. And just next to the main gate stood his watermelon slice cart. A small cart with blocks of ice that was stacked in steps which were in turn lined with red rexine cloth. The top of the steps was reserved for a photo of Balkrishna that had clearly seen better days. 3 remaining tiers were lined with wedges of juicy red watermelon in ascending order. Rs 1.50 would fetch you the biggest wedge, which at times was as big as the wheel of a scooter. It was just what was needed on a summer day as a buffer between college and a nice home cooked lunch. Sliced into pieces and served on a weathered plastic plate it really hit the spot. And as if that wasn’t enough, it was dusted lightly with pepper and salt. And of course, you could always take home a whole melon if you so desired. Simple pleasures, good times!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Ingredients</span><br />2 cups Seedless Watermelon cubed, preferably cold<br />1 Tsp Feta Cheese<br />6 Black Olives sliced<br />10 Mint leaves crushed<br />1 tsp Orange Zest<br />1 tsp extra virgin Olive oil<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Method</span><br />Place all ingredients except cheese and oil in a bowl<br />Sprinkle the cheese and drizzle the oil over it<br />Toss the salad gently and serve.Adhi Potobahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07410548589656234414noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4543356654396519241.post-21256027211498434962009-08-02T08:51:00.002-05:002009-08-02T08:54:44.569-05:00Sev Batata Dahi Puri (SBDP)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ2py-0KIXBmZYaDPuGkrLzU4B5gHjAOCQPgQJSfvfm_wIvWcjpttzs1X_dhe8AZS3JEd8krk2xPQ-9zSXQxLhZFQPi5WGur5QH9_ziVbL9HS4L1g9ifXv0EYlnc9xLEEYJhElb_K8Wad4/s1600-h/spdp.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 229px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ2py-0KIXBmZYaDPuGkrLzU4B5gHjAOCQPgQJSfvfm_wIvWcjpttzs1X_dhe8AZS3JEd8krk2xPQ-9zSXQxLhZFQPi5WGur5QH9_ziVbL9HS4L1g9ifXv0EYlnc9xLEEYJhElb_K8Wad4/s320/spdp.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365364526833209330" border="0" /></a><br />I can admit without any resentment that I have spent the better part of the mornings of growing years at <a href="http://www.vaishalihotel.in/">Hotel Vaishali.</a> There’s no other place that embodies the slow paced, there’s-always-tomorrow sprit of Pune city more than Hotel Vaishali. Any regular visitor can tell you with their eyes closed what the scene at Vaishali is like in the mornings. Sadly, they can also name the people who will be there at any given time and the area in which they might be sitting. I first started visiting Vaishali for the food. I have yet to find a single thing or item on the menu to complain about. However, years went by, and although the food never took a back seat, mornings at Vaishali became more of a social event than a strictly culinary visit. Although, as fun as the mornings at Vaishali were, evenings at Vaishali just as awesome. And the one thing that made that possible was that the Chaat bar would open at 4:30 p.m. And the crowning jewel of the Chaat bar was the hero of the evenings, the Sev Batata Dahi Puri known simply as “The SBDP”. I have eaten this dish pretty much all over the country, but none even comes close to the SBDP at Vaishali.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Ingredients</span><br />2 boiled Potatoes, cut into small cubes<br />1 finely chopped Onion<br />2 finely chopped Tomatoes<br />1/4 cup Cilantro finely chopped<br />1/4 cup Mint finely chopped<br />1 pack Chaat Puris<br />1 cup Yoghurt, slightly sweetened and whipped<br />1/2 cup Tamarind Pulp<br />1/2 cup Date pulp<br />2 tsp Jaggrey<br />1 cup Sev<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Method</span><br />In a pot boil 2 cups of water and add the jaggrey, date pulp and tamarind pulp stirring it to make sure it is a homogenous mixture<br />Reduce the mixture to half or till it is a thick liquid<br />Place aside and allow it to cool<br />On a plate place a few puris (if the puris are puffy, make a hole on one side and place with the hole facing up)<br />Place potato on the puris (or in)<br />Place the tomato and onion on the puris (in that order)<br />Using a teaspoon drizzle the Tamarind chutney over the puris so that each puri gets at least a spoonful<br />Drizzle some yoghurt over each of the puri (1/2 tsp per puri)<br />Top generously with Sev<br />Garnish with cilantro and mint<br />Serve immediately before puris get soggyAdhi Potobahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07410548589656234414noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4543356654396519241.post-84627615540038665492009-07-03T08:00:00.005-05:002009-07-05T08:01:06.415-05:00Kheema Meatball Curry<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3r-ZAU1YC1x_VO_A4NZdZWNqYlH58sLhcyAYt-qEhP9kasPgBGjRtwN5rdVCWv-nfORJkRUEIEBekPwjg_ZZU14jOjEyQ8vIRmE03e3WZewLxD_tBJOxrM_UJyku5Y7qSX3HVIquItdne/s1600-h/kheema+balls+curry.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 286px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3r-ZAU1YC1x_VO_A4NZdZWNqYlH58sLhcyAYt-qEhP9kasPgBGjRtwN5rdVCWv-nfORJkRUEIEBekPwjg_ZZU14jOjEyQ8vIRmE03e3WZewLxD_tBJOxrM_UJyku5Y7qSX3HVIquItdne/s320/kheema+balls+curry.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354298032989316626" /></a><br />Shivaji Market situated a few blocks to the south of Main Street, is the centre for all things meat in Pune and the central wholesale market for meat, poultry and seafood in the city. This is the place you’d go to if you wanted the freshest and the best meats. Most families serious about their non-veg get their meats from here and every family has their favourite vendor who apparently has the ‘best’ meat or fish. Getting is from someone else is tantamount to throwing money down the drain. Shivaji Market is probably one of the smelliest places in the city and not the prettiest of places. It has four major sections—poultry, meat (mostly lamb), fish and vegetable. It is very colourful, full of character (and characters) and a photographers dream. A late uncle of mine had an obsession with buying the freshest meat. The meat trucks delivered the meat around 7:00 p.m. He would go the market around 7:00 and hang out in the smelly <span style="font-style: italic;">gala</span> (stall) with our family butcher. He would then order some prime cuts of the freshest meats from the butcher making small talk about nothing. Of course, it’s another story that this meat would then sit in the freezer at home for many days, thus leaving it’s freshness redundant. This obsession with buying things fresh and then keeping them in the fridge runs through my extended family. The butcher did have the best mutton. Kheema (minced meat) is one of my favourite mutton dishes, although I would only eat it if the mutton was minced by hand and not by a machine. The meat minced by hand on a butcher’s block is much chunkier and thus tastier as compared to the machine cut version. And it stays really firm and juicy when making meatballs.<br /><br />Another interesting story on <a href="http://thecookscottage.typepad.com/curry/2006/05/shivaji_market.html">Shivaji Market</a> by The Cook's Cottage<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Ingredients</span><br />I lb lamb extra-lean kheema (minced)<br />2 large onions finely chopped<br />2 large tomatoes finely chopped<br />5 cloves of garlic crushed or 1 tsp paste<br />1 tsp ginger paste<br />1 tsp ginger-garlic paste<br />4 tsp chopped cilantro<br />1 lemon<br />2 tsp chili powder<br />2 tsp turmeric powder<br />1 1/2 tsp garam-masala<br />Salt (or according to taste)<br />3 cups water<br />1/2 cup oil<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Method</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">For meat balls</span><br />In a bowl mix thoroughly the Kheema, ginger-garlic paste, cilantro and 1/2 tsp salt and juice of 1 lemon<br />With greased hands, make small balls 1” in diameter and place aside<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">For curry</span><br />In a large pot heat oil on high and add ginger and garlic.<br />When the garlic starts to splatter add chopped onion<br />Once the onion browns on the edges, add tomato and stir<br />Allow it to cook for 5 min<br />Then add chili, turmeric and garam masala<br />Allow it to cook for a few minutes<br />Add one cup water to make it loose and reduce flame to medium heat<br />Add the meatballs gently and making sure they are coated with the curry<br />Gently stir and allow it to cook for a couple of minutes till the meatballs are firm<br />Add rest of the water and stir gently taking care not to dissolve the meatballs<br />Turn up heat between medium and high<br />Allow to cook till it reduces by half and a thick gravy remains<br />Serve with chapatti or basmati rice.Adhi Potobahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07410548589656234414noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4543356654396519241.post-64738017821623058892009-05-19T19:45:00.004-05:002009-05-26T13:13:55.882-05:00Aaamras (Alphonso Mango Pulp)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiivyw4VJMW9d7G-Hbvuhcm1XCe0WUgE34u-lyPsNwza59l96uv-DvTUNM0Htx-vYNVsABsxmUfO_xq99Lcfe0VsRSfZQ52E68HPTSpwg551HJooKjVRhXyYLM5W4FPoR_LOwy_VintT4Rc/s1600-h/aamras.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 255px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiivyw4VJMW9d7G-Hbvuhcm1XCe0WUgE34u-lyPsNwza59l96uv-DvTUNM0Htx-vYNVsABsxmUfO_xq99Lcfe0VsRSfZQ52E68HPTSpwg551HJooKjVRhXyYLM5W4FPoR_LOwy_VintT4Rc/s320/aamras.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337701208852672930" border="0" /></a>When I was young the Deccan Gymkhana area was filled with Brahmins who crossed the river from the old city and settled in and around what is now Erandwane. We had one such senior Puneite who lived in our lane. He was by all means a sweet and kind old man with some solid 60s fashion. He was a very close friend of the family as well and he taught us many useless things that only old people can. My fondest memory of him is watching him eat his daily alphonso during mango season. Every afternoon after his lunch he would lay a newspaper on the ota (stone platform) outside his house. He would then sit with a ripe alphonso mango, a glass of water wearing and a pair of scissors wearing his striped blue pajamas and a sleeveless t-shirt that was once white. Slowly he would begin devouring the alphonso, enjoying every bite to the fullest till he reached the pit. He would then proceed to suck it dry till it could be sucked no more. This is when it got interesting. He would then place the mango on the newspaper and proceed to remove whatever yellow matter may still be left from the little grooves of the pit using his fingernails. Once satisfied, he would then cut the fibers of the pit and eat them. And finally, a dip in the glass of water to make sure every last bit of mango has come off completely would end this unequal struggle between him and the mango. And anyone who has ever had an aplhonso will agree, it is that good!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Ingredients</span><br />2 ripe Alphonso Mangoes<br />1/4 cup Milk<br />1 Tsp sugar<br />Pinch of Saffron (optional)<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Method</span><br />Soften the mango using fingers<br />Squeeze out all the pulp of the mango<br />Add milk, sugar and saffron and mix it thoroughly<br />Serve cold with hot fluffy pooris<br /><br /><br><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://cooking4allseasons.blogspot.com/2009/05/announcing-mango-mela.html"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgENjmFStmvxEIoqxmOsEJgRdfulvhwqgeaJLCsUO58z0gMcCQVY_aUVMHe4Wv3YN4DrJEiGw7nhzUQIHAPYkKr1I3RE3G1a5Fvzi0aqglq_buhT0JiRXHvEfpvcZJIfaXanVevKeSWRvMY/s320/Mango+Mela.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340197353939679826" border="0" /></a>Adhi Potobahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07410548589656234414noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4543356654396519241.post-58051691614405120792009-04-28T18:32:00.003-05:002009-04-28T18:36:03.376-05:00Hummus Cauliflower Sandwich<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOePxJZVMh9ilDVjmn1cpuwNJwn7xUYeFm21e56dkiDRDeogXUS37gPI9cd58h8cnyOL5vhx99Zf6m2yVsDxbtkwANaDLs8yFihyQQd05-yG3kX0_EC9gfF-A9UWk3qDR2fmpRgPpRbAC2/s1600-h/Cauliflower+Sandwich.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 238px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOePxJZVMh9ilDVjmn1cpuwNJwn7xUYeFm21e56dkiDRDeogXUS37gPI9cd58h8cnyOL5vhx99Zf6m2yVsDxbtkwANaDLs8yFihyQQd05-yG3kX0_EC9gfF-A9UWk3qDR2fmpRgPpRbAC2/s320/Cauliflower+Sandwich.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329889794075148754" border="0" /></a>In my entire time in Pune city, the only place that came close to delivering a delicious mouth-watering sandwich that could rival Marzorin, was Jaws. Anyone who has lived in Pune in the 90s can remember Jaws. If you weren’t a vegetarian, you couldn’t go to Camp without at least considering if there was a possibility of a sandwich at Jaws. Jaws was famous for being the first place in Pune that served a real grilled beef burger. It was run by a couple of fresh graduates in an old British Raj style bungalow that looked like it was once army property. The restaurant wasn’t really part of the bungalow and was situated in the verandah. The seating was on concrete benches haphazardly scattered across the dusty parking area, Western music playing on loudspeakers that clearly couldn’t handle the sound. There was a room with a table tennis table where one could play for a token fee although no one went there to play. It was all about the burgers and the best chicken roll you ever had. Great burgers, Frankies, rolls and shakes made from the simplest recipes and ingredients. Food for the young, made and sold by the young. It was the cool place to be, although nothing about the place itself was cool. The sad part about Jaws however was that they didn’t have anything in the way of vegetarian foods except for an alu Frankie and that would be a problem in a mixed group. Hanging out at Jaws has definitely been one of the childhood memories of my college days. Jaws disappeared as the guys who ran it found real careers. It was one of the best places to eat and to be in Pune and sadly, it’s a thing of the past.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Ingredients:</span><br />1 cup Hummus (<a href="http://potoba.blogspot.com/2007/05/vegetarian-hummus-sandwich.html">Click here</a> for hummus recipe)<br />10 slices of Wheat Sourdough Bread<br />1 Cauliflower finely chopped<br />2 tbsp Olive oil<br />1 tsp fresh cracked pepper<br />Salt to taste<br />1 sliced tomato<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Method:</span><br />Heat the oil in a pot and add black pepper to it<br />Once the pepper starts to splatter add cauliflower and salt<br />Stir and close lid<br />Cook for 15-20 min till the Cauliflower is soft and slightly browned on some flowerets<br />Allow it to cool<br />Take two slices of bread and apply hummus on the inner sides generously<br />On one of the slices add a layer of cauliflower<br />Top it with a couple slices of tomato<br />Place the other slice of bread with the hummus side inside<br />Press to make the sandwich firm<br />Serve as a snackAdhi Potobahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07410548589656234414noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4543356654396519241.post-90601682130232913432009-04-26T08:11:00.004-05:002010-12-11T11:47:13.142-05:00Chana Saag<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN0dLYeovQaqe6nCpMHechZwjyoOazJb3c3U9zUMuTi9szvyuvA0fpxJvSkhy1J2FpEfqlQv8shWSRt1ypQ4-RJX0e6jV2wDGmjndjSPpt9-RLHEwGgL6bdU-oyjE6fzKYaIrn0XmS7lJK/s1600-h/Chana_Saag.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN0dLYeovQaqe6nCpMHechZwjyoOazJb3c3U9zUMuTi9szvyuvA0fpxJvSkhy1J2FpEfqlQv8shWSRt1ypQ4-RJX0e6jV2wDGmjndjSPpt9-RLHEwGgL6bdU-oyjE6fzKYaIrn0XmS7lJK/s320/Chana_Saag.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328987256409512594" border="0" /></a><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pune"><br /><br />Pune</a> being the educational capital of India, everyone had in their friend’s circle a group of out station students who had come to for a better education, especially during their college years. Of course choosing my group of friends to hang out with proved that no amount of education can improve poor judgment. Most of my out station friends were as good in the kitchen as <a href="http://content.cricinfo.com/india/content/player/30923.html">Maninder Singh</a> in his early years with the bat. On the positive side, you’d always have a group ready to go on a culinary adventure. Although, these kids mostly had their list of staples they’d visit and order the same thing day after day. On <a href="http://www.deccangymkhana.co.in/">Deccan Gymnkhana</a>, behind <a href="http://www.karachisweets.com/">Karachi Sweet Mart</a> and a few waves short of being immersed in the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mutha_River">Mutha river</a>, there was restaurant by the name on <a href="http://www.mouthshut.com/product-reviews/Purab_Restaurant_-_Pune-925038039.html">Purab</a>. A basically non-descript restaurant that served Punjabi as well as South Indian foods. Purab was a favourite of one of my friends and he had a standard order—Paneer Bhurji with 3 rotis. I remember sitting across the table and watch him eat the same week for weeks at a time. Enough to make you never want to eat it again, but that never affected him. Purab had the standard Punjabi menu. Although I avoided most things with Palak in it, the waiter once mistakenly brought me Chana Saag instead of plain Chana. And much to my surprise it was not only edible, but quite delicious, too. Ever since, I have used Chana Saag to help me get my much-needed serving of greens.<br /><br />Ingredients<br />1 can Chickpeas (cooked)<br />2 bags Baby Spinach<br />1 large Onion finely chopped<br />2 tsp Tomato paste<br />1 tsp Garlic paste<br />1/2 tsp grated Ginger<br />1/2 cup heavy Cream<br />5 Green Chilies chopped<br />1 tsp Turmeric<br />2 tsp Garam Masala<br />2 tbsp chopped Coriander<br />Salt to taste<br />3 tbsp Cooking Oil<br /><br />In a pot heat the oil on medium heat and add garlic, ginger and chilies and stir<br />As they start to splatter, add onions and stir and allow it to cook till golden brown on the edges<br />Add tomato paste and coriander and allow it to cook for a couple of minutes<br />Add turmeric and garam masala and mix it thoroughly<br />Add spinach, stir, reduce heat and place lid on the pot<br />Keep stirring occasionally even after spinach has reduced completely<br />Remove from heat and allow it to cool<br />Once cool blend the cooked spinach with heavy cream<br />Pour it back into the pot and add chickpeas<br />Allow it to simmer for 20 min on medium heat with the lid on<br />Serve with breadAdhi Potobahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07410548589656234414noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4543356654396519241.post-15198929252159041192009-03-28T13:15:00.003-05:002010-12-11T11:50:41.911-05:00Kala Chana Usal (Stir Fried Bengal Lentils)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjasg1KzECbbVxKFEFJndulNnmarKB8KWj_1SJbArI2GzgDW_xYAaj9Rgu7C8SWxbmvoc9yaL-sRYMgToC29BrmfIuHq0WvxoRkvPDEFiDggHaPQQ58dHpy44b9ZAA1Gf4XDrBFufkOTAHh/s1600-h/Kala_Chana.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 254px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjasg1KzECbbVxKFEFJndulNnmarKB8KWj_1SJbArI2GzgDW_xYAaj9Rgu7C8SWxbmvoc9yaL-sRYMgToC29BrmfIuHq0WvxoRkvPDEFiDggHaPQQ58dHpy44b9ZAA1Gf4XDrBFufkOTAHh/s320/Kala_Chana.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318304301968135330" border="0" /></a><br />I grew up on Prabhat Road in nicer times; when the air SPM index was way below 100. Breathing was easier, washing hands didn’t make the sink muddy and Deccan Gymnkhana was the shopping area for fresh fruit and vegetables in addition to sundries. Vegetable shops ranged from huge fruit and vegetable stalls to small ones, like women sitting on a damp jute rag with small portions of cilantro or pieces of young coconut for 25 Paise each. The most interesting shops were on the side where Karve Rd met Prabhat Rd. There were 3 levels of shops / vendors on this street. The concrete shops starting with the Oil Depot at the apex, Vrindavan which was once a tea house, the school (Shishu Vihar) in the middle of nowhere, followed again by some oil depots, grain shops and then the Central Book House which never sold a book you actually could use. After the concrete shops was a layer of semi-permanent low-level shops that sold anything from bangles to brooms to poorly made plastic items. On the next level were the small herb and spice vendors that would have just one or two things to sell. One such lady sat outside the Latay Oil Depot and sold sprouts. It was the only one of its kind and in spite of being so small, was the place to go for fresh sprouts. I don’t quite know why no one else had sprouts. The sprout lady had become a landmark on that street although she occupied less that a 3 feet X 3 feet area. Anyone who has ever shopped there definitely knows who this person is. The last time I visited Pune, the pollution had gone from bad to worse, especially near Deccan Gymnkhana. And these small vendors sit at street level right next to the main Deccan traffic light where hoards of poorly maintained vehicles spew petrol and diesel fumes. It would be a shame to see this little market go away. And although I can claim that 90% of the sprouts I ate in Pune came from this frail lady, I hope for her sake that she along with her friends has relocated. Or better yet, retired, breathing some cleaner air in her village and munching on some nutritious sprouts.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Ingredients</span><br />1 lb fresh Green Bengal Lentils (not dried)<br />1 tbsp oil<br />1 twig Curry Leaves (around 10)<br />1/2 tsp Chili Powder<br />1/2 tsp Turmeric<br />1/2 tsp Maharashtrian Goda Masala<br />1/4 tsp Mustard Seeds<br />1/2 tsp Asafoetida (Hing)<br />Salt to taste<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Method</span><br />In a wok, heat the oil.<br />Add curry leaves, mustard seeds and asafoetida<br />As the mustard seeds start to splatter add the chili, turmeric and goda masala<br />Once the spices start to froth, add the lentils and stir so that they’re all coated with the spices<br />Allow it to cook covered for a few minutes stirring occasionally<br />Garnish with lemon and cilantro<br />Serve with bread or rice and yoghurtAdhi Potobahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07410548589656234414noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4543356654396519241.post-65235012109433806722009-03-10T08:52:00.002-05:002009-03-10T08:54:48.073-05:00Happy Holi<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHkr-xZZx6YYNwA9IOrDxxC532NRTtoQNTcrvpJDRfq046Ew9LWd70FlW5PoxQyXidt4EopbPUYHWLPVneHSZ0cbRkTezEyqu_J5lXsfNrh5GNucarhO45LAfUDAA-H5WwzZaiG7OCjCvB/s1600-h/2167030317_6300897428_b.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHkr-xZZx6YYNwA9IOrDxxC532NRTtoQNTcrvpJDRfq046Ew9LWd70FlW5PoxQyXidt4EopbPUYHWLPVneHSZ0cbRkTezEyqu_J5lXsfNrh5GNucarhO45LAfUDAA-H5WwzZaiG7OCjCvB/s320/2167030317_6300897428_b.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311556782354745394" border="0" /></a>Adhi Potobahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07410548589656234414noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4543356654396519241.post-28354791961186803252009-02-27T11:29:00.002-05:002009-02-27T11:31:53.388-05:00Spicy Fish Sticks<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjePhjTzj8K8FJt1UxyRK4BsW9qJ9NaUPmFDvaZGhu282lchTK4pSlpHaMzZ4nrYUfCn_TrO49L34tmUu7sWwp743g_DYKLVhufRdWkxb2Tde6QRQXDDCgqW-DT4Y0jXpHwZmAEr9yxcbB9/s1600-h/fish_sticks.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 230px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjePhjTzj8K8FJt1UxyRK4BsW9qJ9NaUPmFDvaZGhu282lchTK4pSlpHaMzZ4nrYUfCn_TrO49L34tmUu7sWwp743g_DYKLVhufRdWkxb2Tde6QRQXDDCgqW-DT4Y0jXpHwZmAEr9yxcbB9/s320/fish_sticks.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307515717967558402" border="0" /></a><br />Schools in Pune organized “Fancy Fetes” as a means of raising much needed funds. My alma mater would raise more money in 3 days with a fete than it could with the meager alms received through ZP funding in a year. The maths for this was simple. Host a huge fair on the school grounds by asking students to contribute as well as sell raffle tickets and massive corporate sponsorships would fill the void. Parents would be asked to volunteer their services in supervising the student run stalls of games or refreshments. For a college student, the most important part of going to a school fete was the large collection of young women and supporting schools was as far from anyone’s mind as could be. Besides the games including the large central hoopla and the obvious collection of pretty girls, my favourite part of these fetes were the stalls of home made foods run by parents. Delicious home ‘ishtyle’ food was presented in paper plates that were inevitably covered with grass or sand. One year, I came across a stall run by one of the parents that was selling fish and chips. Of course, besides the name, it had no resemblance to the actual beer battered British namesake. This one actually had some taste and packed a spicy Puneri punch. Every year after that, I tried looking for the fish and chips stall, but never saw it again. Maybe the woman had a special recipe that made it so delicious. Maybe it was the smell of the sand which was soaked to keep dust from rising or maybe it was being back at school to play with everyone you ever knew that made the fish taste so good. No matter how many seafood shacks I visit, I know I’ll never taste the same fish again, just as I know that I can never go back to school and play with the same friends again.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Ingredients:</span><br />1 lb Halibut (or Pomfret) filet cut into sticks<br />1 tbsp fresh garlic paste<br />1/3 tsp Turmeric<br />1/2 tsp Chili powder<br />1/3 tsp Garam Masala<br />1 tsp Lemon Juice<br />Salt to taste<br />2 cups Besan (Chickpea Flour)<br />Oil for deep frying<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Method:</span><br />In a large bowl mix all the ingredients except fish and besan to create marinade.<br />Add a few teaspoons of water if necessary<br />Add fish sticks and mix thoroughly till the fish is covered with the marinade<br />Allow it to marinate for a few hours<br />Heat the oil in a wok<br />When oil is hot, reduce heat to medium<br />Dredge the fish sticks in besan<br />Deep fry till golden brown<br />Serve hot with a slice of lemonAdhi Potobahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07410548589656234414noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4543356654396519241.post-70451637138577460072009-01-20T16:58:00.007-05:002009-01-27T12:58:55.946-05:00Toor Dal Khichidi (Pigeon Pea Rice)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzM-K5sfOByHWeFZKirxKczMSaiQDbsIS3DpvAhmHHJNlfwTKeaLkrKi8rMiENJ9Yn0TqJ7lueajejcwUuCl3ooMC5XWPWic9iQ3NBd1dnJGVOiLBGpJXlIlK9Tjwh1MelsyNs73yUl9Hh/s1600-h/dal_rice.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 282px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzM-K5sfOByHWeFZKirxKczMSaiQDbsIS3DpvAhmHHJNlfwTKeaLkrKi8rMiENJ9Yn0TqJ7lueajejcwUuCl3ooMC5XWPWic9iQ3NBd1dnJGVOiLBGpJXlIlK9Tjwh1MelsyNs73yUl9Hh/s320/dal_rice.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293499869697604786" border="0" /></a><br />My wife grew up in San Diego very close to the Mexican border; a place blessed with the best rice and beans North of the border and something she misses dearly. I would never attempt to cook rice and beans (as it would inevitably taste like an amateur hack job) especially for someone who has grown up eating it. As I thought about the Mexican rice and beans, I couldn’t help but think about the Maharashrtian khichidi. Cheap and downright delicious comfort foodthat never fails to transport me back to Pune. I have fond memories of being fed soft khichidis topped with ample ghee whenever I was feeling a bit under the weather. On one such occasion I introduced my wife to this humble food with spectacular results. Although, a lentil khichidi can never replace rice and beans as my wife’s favourite food, I think it is pretty high up on the list based on the requests I get to cook it.<br /><br /><b>Ingredients</b><br />2 tbsp cooking oil<br />1 cup uncooked Basmati Rice, washed<br />1 cup Pigeon Peas, washed (or Moong Dal)<br />1 Onion finely shredded<br />1 tbsp Tomato paste<br />1½ tsp Maharashtrian Goda Masala<br />½ tsp Cumin & Coriander seed powder<br />¾ tsp Turmeric<br />½ tsp Chili powder<br />½ tsp Asafoetida<br />½ tsp Mustard seeds<br />½ cup chopped Cilantro<br />Ghee for garnish<br />Salt to taste<br /><br /><b>Method</b><br />In a medium sized pot heat the oil and temper mustard seeds<br />Add chopped onion and stir and allow it to cook till light brown on the sides<br />Add Cumin & Coriander powder, Chili, Turmeric, Asafoetida, Goda Masala and stir for a minute<br />Add the Rice and Peas and stir for a minute till it is a homogenous mixture<br />Add 2 cups of water, salt and stir in cilantro<br />Allow it to cook on medium heat stirring occasionally and adding water as needed<br />Keep cooking till peas are cooked and mushy<br />Serve hot garnished with cilantro and ghee with pappadum and pickle<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://sindhirasoi.com/2009/01/13/announcing-an-event-just-for-you/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheziZb6rDDi7dXIp10d8m96vQDzN_3MCkwLOYir2R93u1WAI6o5SlPtVAM3RjDdLLQezG3JPc03WudhwyxfgxCiGiFVlkE-qPldN626rDdjE81PqjIGy8jzNl1OC723cpc5QKy5aog0eJM/s320/justforyou.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293826511297647906" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://sindhirasoi.com/2009/01/13/announcing-an-event-just-for-you/">"Just for You"</a> by Alka of <a href="http://sindhirasoi.com/">Sindhi Rasoi</a><br /><br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://cooking4allseasons.blogspot.com/2009/01/announcing-my-legume-love-affair.html"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 100px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZropuGnDOBAekTLptJ64YhSacI5g3oLUZpLtAUZ3QVfWASaGj5r9ao_E3Q7kJGLAc7-SCLioOn2QkIhJPay_umnTH70DEzRQVwj_MlrtI5e-OtbLxYS1XX1_4J2-XQ_IOklXkmkXSWhcF/s320/MLLA7Logo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294173674266478706" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://cooking4allseasons.blogspot.com/2009/01/announcing-my-legume-love-affair.html">My Legume Love Affair</a> at <a href="http://cooking4allseasons.blogspot.com/">Cooking 4 All Seasons</a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL9FOyfKzipgdGVD9kOb8JYYy_cBd6lB_fIr-jdz0aaljs6wGRXiQl5sl0BSIRhQ9_0FsYTnAZLIQmcDv8vvromZGYo4I9DPFqDNuWX8jJNgkfYYwgdOhx8AaCLJ1mIuiywyh7qy5eyTuL/s1600-h/FIC-Yellow.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 100px; height: 100px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL9FOyfKzipgdGVD9kOb8JYYy_cBd6lB_fIr-jdz0aaljs6wGRXiQl5sl0BSIRhQ9_0FsYTnAZLIQmcDv8vvromZGYo4I9DPFqDNuWX8jJNgkfYYwgdOhx8AaCLJ1mIuiywyh7qy5eyTuL/s320/FIC-Yellow.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296034122844604482" border="0" /></a><a href="http://tumyumtreats.blogspot.com/2009/01/announcing-food-in-colors-january-2009.html">FIC Yellow</a> at <a href="http://tumyumtreats.blogspot.com">Tum Yum Treats</a><br /><br /><br /></div>Adhi Potobahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07410548589656234414noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4543356654396519241.post-11550299573665506382008-12-28T18:47:00.007-05:002008-12-29T19:22:24.438-05:00Orange Chicken<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiapFmJSBIcGf5wim4iNNg77kWeMIw3S_ro4NCv640BlPkrgWM88NWQ6PwPb3C_cvjDUNnOEfavx4wqVy2hqyRn7UOjhuWcit-yIViD-d6ntgfl3p9VTM3xbQ0e-jau845BY7_mXIcxep6a/s1600-h/chickenmanchurian.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 262px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiapFmJSBIcGf5wim4iNNg77kWeMIw3S_ro4NCv640BlPkrgWM88NWQ6PwPb3C_cvjDUNnOEfavx4wqVy2hqyRn7UOjhuWcit-yIViD-d6ntgfl3p9VTM3xbQ0e-jau845BY7_mXIcxep6a/s320/chickenmanchurian.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284992197032843122" border="0" /></a><br />After growing up in a land where every menu includes Chicken Manchurian, Sweet Corn-Chicken soup and Chopsuey, the Chinese food here in the US was a little bit of a let down. Sitting in my sad little student apartment in Syracuse, I could only dream about having a piping hot bowl of sweet corn chicken at the Pune University fountain or a spicy plate of Chicken Manchurian at the Oriental Room on Karve Road. I did find some relief in form of Chinese food in the most unlikely of places, the <a href="http://www.carouselcenter.com/">Carousel Mall</a>. A seven-floored eyesore with a footprint of a ceiling fan that contained pretty much every store that could ever come from America’s flyover zones. You could buy a Macbook, a Midor Saw and some sexy lingerie, all under one roof. The food court stood on second floor of the mall with an gigantic old carousel, thus the name. The food court included all of America’s greatest names in generic mall food. Not to mention that fine family restaurant of silicone fitted spandex dolls, <a href="http://www.hooters.com/">Hooters</a>. On my first visit to the food court, as I was glancing over the uninviting food options, I came across the <a href="http://www.manchuwok.com/">Manchu Wok</a>. One of their offerings was orange chicken, which didn’t exactly blow my mind, nor does it come close to a piece of dry Manchurian, but it is a fitting choice when your other options are tasteless chicken with snow peas.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Ingredients</span><br />2 boneless Chicken breasts chopped into small pieces (not minced chicken)<br />1/2 cup All-purpose Flour (Maida)<br />1/4 teaspoon MSG (Ajinomoto)<br />1/4 teaspoon Pepper<br />1/2 tsp Orange Zest<br />Oil for frying<br />1 tsp chopped Garlic<br />3 tsp chopped Scallion (Spring Onion)<br />1 chopped chili<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">For Sauce</span><br />1/4 tsp grated Ginger<br />1 tbsp Sugar<br />1/4 Cornflour<br />1 Cup Orange Juice<br />1/2 tbsp Orange Zest<br />1 tsp Lemon Juice<br />1 tbsp Soya Sauce<br />3 tsp Butter<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Method</span><br />Mix flour, MSG, pepper and orange zest to 3/4th cup water and make it into a batter.<br />Add chicken and mix thoroughly<br />Heat oil in a wok and drop small dumpling sized balls of the battered chicken and fry till golden brown.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">For sauce:</span><br />In a wok, melt the butter and add grated ginger and soya sauce<br />When the ginger sizzles add sugar, lemon juice and mix<br />Add orange juice and allow it to boil<br />Reduce the orange juice to 1/2 and add corn starch<br />Place aside<br /><br />In a wok, take 1 tbsp of olive oil<br />Add garlic and chili<br />Add chicken balls and mix thoroughly<br />Add orange sauce and stir<br />Serve with brown rice.Adhi Potobahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07410548589656234414noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4543356654396519241.post-34610291337912581682008-11-27T11:49:00.005-05:002008-11-30T21:32:37.064-05:00Spicy Mango Avocado Sushi<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjFQGhHqqsrsz_f5dmuL2Sk2pfvzFdT34hQ9fPtiUNtZ_lUPIqfeSURnZBopKYjt5Lq3xAAaNK4DmudNm_VcdsuSTNkUkNyTAd_37VWfqY-GvL9GmjQ45PdHLK5KnXhtMhcwWCWegcpGf1/s1600-h/sushi.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 281px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjFQGhHqqsrsz_f5dmuL2Sk2pfvzFdT34hQ9fPtiUNtZ_lUPIqfeSURnZBopKYjt5Lq3xAAaNK4DmudNm_VcdsuSTNkUkNyTAd_37VWfqY-GvL9GmjQ45PdHLK5KnXhtMhcwWCWegcpGf1/s320/sushi.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273381515529452722" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Besides vacation, summer in Pune meant the mushrooming of Mango stalls pretty much everywhere there was space available. If one had a sky view, the entire city would look like it had a case of saffron coloured chicken pox with the abundance of mangoes everywhere. The Alphonso mango is the greatest fruit on the surface of this planet and the naysayers who pooh-pooh the notion just haven’t had one from Ratnagiri. Mango, the Alphonso Mango, especially remains by far my favourite food and I have tried to come up with recipes that use mango, even where it is not needed. We have recently embarked on a heart-friendly diet trying to cut a lot of the fat and sodium from our diet leaving me to find new ways of make food interesting and edible. The mango never fails to come to the rescue of such ambition and I have managed to forge a couple of good heart-friendly recipes. Here's one such triumph.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Ingredients</span>:<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">For Rice</span><br />3 cups cooked Brown Rice<br />3 tbsp Rice Vinegar<br />2 tsp sugar<br />Pinch of salt<br />Nori Wraps (Seaweed sheets)<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">For Filling</span><br />1 semi-ripe peeled Mango sliced into extremely thin julienne pieces<br />1 Carrot sliced as above<br />1 Cucumber (white part) sliced as above<br />1 Avocado sliced as above<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">For Sauce</span><br />Flesh of 1 ripe Mango<br />1/2” piece of Ginger<br />4 tbsp light Coconut Milk<br />Pinch of Chilli Flakes<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Method</span><br />Mix the vinegar, salt and sugar in a pot and heat on a low flame till the sugar dissolves and allow it to cool.<br />Spread the cooked rice while it is warm and gently flatten it<br />Drizzle the vinegar mixture on the rice and fold the rice to make sure the vinegar is spread evenly<br />On a Sushi mat place one Nori Sheet aligned with the edge of the mat<br />Cover the sheet with a very thin layer of rice<br />Place the sliced vegetables lengthwise parallel to the edge of the mat<br />Make the roll <a href="http://www.makemysushi.com/insideoutroll.html">(Click here for video directions on making a roll)</a><br />Once the roll is done, cut into small pieces<br />To make the sauce, mix all ingredients and blend till it is a fluffy, homogenous mixture<br />Place a tiny dollop of sauce on each of the pieces<br />Serve with pickled ginger and wasabiAdhi Potobahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07410548589656234414noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4543356654396519241.post-50760212724121816192008-11-16T16:23:00.003-05:002008-11-17T09:51:26.984-05:00Cabbage Paratha<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiwrNfIjZT1LZPCs70evRY7oMon1BCqoUfmWBvcVHlwn0BTNjKRKG9fmXZ4Sw23wGb_7XmS7hyphenhyphenjpBWMFteC5s-PeBoEpHo3sLODuzHvgYTTkv0TY-5tRFtclsRjBe_QRdRJHStxsZc19ET/s1600-h/cabbage_paratha.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 238px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiwrNfIjZT1LZPCs70evRY7oMon1BCqoUfmWBvcVHlwn0BTNjKRKG9fmXZ4Sw23wGb_7XmS7hyphenhyphenjpBWMFteC5s-PeBoEpHo3sLODuzHvgYTTkv0TY-5tRFtclsRjBe_QRdRJHStxsZc19ET/s320/cabbage_paratha.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269370043758447090" border="0" /></a><br /><br />At the intersection of BMCC Road and Fergusson College Road stands Hotel Rangoli. A place that in all respects is pretty low key, tries too hard to be cool and for the most part, would not be missed if it ceased to exist. This is one of the third tier hotels in terms of places you want to be. If Vaishali is closed and Roopali is too crowded and you really want to eat, then Rangoli is a semi-decent option. It is also a great option if a young man has befriended a young woman whose entire family hangs out at Vaishali and the two lovebirds want to have a date, but not have the young man beaten to a pulp and at the same time have the illusion that they can express their love in public freely.... you get the idea. Rangoli's food, although pretty decent, tries to hard to be everything to everyone, but really doesn't do justice to any of it. I did spend a decent amount of time there in the days when Vaishali was undergoing reconstruction and the parathas there weren't bad. However, it failed to convert any real customers, myself included, during that period. I do fondly remember the parathas at Rangoli as that was the only thing that Vaishali didn't serve. And they were'nt bad. Of course, I haven't been there since Vaishali reopened in 1996 and that doesn't say a lot about Rangoli.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Ingredients</span><br />1 Cabbage finely chopped<br />1/2 tsp ginger paste<br />2 Green Chillies finely chopped<br />1/2 tsp Chili Powder<br />1 tsp Turmeric<br />Salt to taste<br />3 tbps cooking oil<br /><br /><a href="http://potoba.blogspot.com/2008/03/tup-sakhar-chapati.html">Click here</a> for dough recipe<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Method</span><br />In a wok heat the oil and add ginger paste.<br />Once the ginger starts for bubble add green chillies, turmeric and chili powder<br />Add cabbage and salt and toss<br />Cook on medium heat stirring occasionally till cabbage is fully cooked<br />Place aside and allow to cool fully<br /><br />To make the paratha, take a golf ball sized ball of dough<br />Flatten and cup it<br />Put some cabbage in the cup and close the cup so that the cabbage is completely stuffed<br />Flatten the ball gently and roll it out into a flat paratha using hands of a rolling pin<br />Heat a skillet to high and put the paratha on the skillet<br />If the skillet is hot enough, no oil is required<br />Cook both sides evenly<br />Serve hot with yogurt and garlic chutneyAdhi Potobahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07410548589656234414noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4543356654396519241.post-31286920572338501642008-11-11T20:51:00.004-05:002008-11-12T06:29:49.175-05:00Citrus Beet and Fruit Salad<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvNqcNwHUHfWydBbbBjJAuy2Uu_7z8IrcWDsvelNlzr1KBkfrf5EP80yXRBrBBn542FTep2S1kRPKb142yXz4Q8j52LSCpGa7E3gtcUt6AkhPn19gWgn45_5vegXHqqmj-KwVlMggRlczS/s1600-h/CitrusBeetSalad.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvNqcNwHUHfWydBbbBjJAuy2Uu_7z8IrcWDsvelNlzr1KBkfrf5EP80yXRBrBBn542FTep2S1kRPKb142yXz4Q8j52LSCpGa7E3gtcUt6AkhPn19gWgn45_5vegXHqqmj-KwVlMggRlczS/s320/CitrusBeetSalad.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267583646681112386" border="0" /></a><br /><br />In Pune, there are two seasons; the one where you need rain gear and one where you don’t. Sure there are temperature variations throughout the year, but this is pretty much the only difference. Summer clothes are not that different than winter clothes, with the exception of a light sweater and I really don’t recollect there being a spring in Pune. It’s pretty much either hot or wet and the only seasonal touch to your wardrobe comes from a worn out jacket or sweater. Even after a decade here in New York, I am still not really used to the four specific seasons. Especially summer, which is so short here in the city. And even though we’re soon approaching the end of the fall season, I am still enjoying my summer salads.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Ingredients</span><br />2 Beets peeled and pressure cooked and cooled<br />1 Apple<br />1 Orange<br />1 Mango<br />4 Figs cut into quarters<br />Zest of one Orange<br />1 tsp Mint chopped<br />2 tbsp Orange Juice<br />3 tsp chopped Pecans<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Method</span><br />Cut the Beets, Apples and Mango into cubes and place in a bowl<br />Peel the orange, separate flesh from skins and add to bowl<br />Add figs, mint, orange zest and pecans to the bowl<br />Drizzle orange juice evenly<br />Toss the salad gently and serveAdhi Potobahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07410548589656234414noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4543356654396519241.post-73789299679197747172008-11-02T21:53:00.006-05:002008-11-03T12:45:06.409-05:00Whole Wheat Pizza<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLd6HihTlBFuCQGPQAZEW5104WMqAvl6q8F7XhHQ0LNLRjPbRtGtgrvOav8s7ZuCSoLQrTs7lW0pwgUmAA-RwMMwyWUOGZ-aT1sTEd0egkAn9Ut4_DXH0Qi74PH13Gd3zUU8z4dt5I90wE/s1600-h/WheatPizza.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 275px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLd6HihTlBFuCQGPQAZEW5104WMqAvl6q8F7XhHQ0LNLRjPbRtGtgrvOav8s7ZuCSoLQrTs7lW0pwgUmAA-RwMMwyWUOGZ-aT1sTEd0egkAn9Ut4_DXH0Qi74PH13Gd3zUU8z4dt5I90wE/s320/WheatPizza.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264260203433969666" border="0" /></a><br /><br />In 1998 when <a href="http://www.hermesgroupindia.com/pizzahut/index.htm">Pizza Hut</a> came to Pune it was greeted with the same kind of fanfare normally reserved by the Congress junta for <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sharad_Pawar">Sharad Pawar</a>’s motorcade. Residing on Jangli Maharaj road in a new construction built on the grave of a typical Puneri corner bungalow; Pizza Hut projected itself as an example of American fine dining. The Puneris ate it with a spoon, or by the slice to be precise. During the first few weeks, the line to get in was around the block. There was a host table outside the restaurant taking reservations. At the time the host had the same attitude as <a href="http://content-usa.cricinfo.com/india/content/player/35320.html">Sachin Tendulkar</a>’s public relation’s manager. Everyone was apparently wasting his time and no one really seemed good enough to have a Pizza Hut slice. I, along with a few friends managed to get a table without waiting, as we knew “people”. Even at this low level of government, corruption did butt its ugly head. Once inside we were greeted with interior decoration that was trying too hard to be cool, arrogant waiters and lacklustre food. Once we placed the order, our waiter announced that the pizza would be ready in 37 min. One of my dining companion’s reminded the waiter that (in spite of it being Pizza Hut) we’re in Pune and they both knew that the 37 min means nothing, so he should just bring it when it comes out.” The food didn’t come out for a good 45 min. In the interim we were treated to an extremely embarrassing and poorly choreographed dance to the then popular song “<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HbKtMtYf2Cg">Backstreet’s Back</a>” courtsey of the Pizza Hut waitstaff who seemed just ashamed to be part of it. It was definite You Tube material. That was my first and last visit to any Pizza Hut, ever. To compensate, I have been experimenting at making pizza at home from scratch and getting somewhat successful at it.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Ingredients</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">For the base</span><br />5 cups Durum Wheat or Whole Wheat flour<br />2 tbsp Extra Virgin Olive Oil<br />2 packets Yeast<br />1 cup tepid Water<br />2 tsp sugar<br />1 tbsp Cornmeal<br />Salt to taste<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Toppings</span><br />1 cup shredded Mozzarella Cheese<br />1 sliced Capsicum (Green Pepper)<br />1 cup sliced Mushrooms<br />1 sliced Onion<br />1 sliced Tomato<br />6 sliced Olives<br />1/2 cup sliced Chicken marinated in Salt and Pepper<br /><br /><a href="http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/Pizza-Sauce-I/Detail.aspx">Click here for the sauce recipe.</a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Method</span><br />Add yeast and sugar to the tepid water, stir and place aside for 10 minutes<br />When the mixture doubles in volume, the yeast is active<br />Add the mixture to the flour along with olive oil and salt<br />Knead the mixture to a dough adding water as necessary<br />Place dough aside for a hour; the dough should double in size<br />Knead the dough again and leave aside for 15 min<br />On a greased pizza stone (or a large baking pan) spread cornmeal evenly<br />Toss the dough into a 12” round base and gently place on top of the corn meal<br />Spread 1/2 sauce evenly over the base all the way up to the edge<br />Spread cheese evenly on pizza<br />Add toppings making sure not to add too many<br />Pre-heat oven to 400º F<br />Place pizza stone on centre rack<br />Bake pizza till edges of the base appear deep brown<br />Serve with red pepper flakesAdhi Potobahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07410548589656234414noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4543356654396519241.post-26074901056375931292008-10-28T08:35:00.002-05:002008-10-28T08:36:53.148-05:00Happy Diwali<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0cWxeugUv0PcHWSzOS8kX91flSXWd6R-Tzusm6_fIMdRg1llNjCQvjmI_b5XPZc5Tyo3OqVy7Y_v3z34TU3VkRLEJkRNQqHxj3eNeVA8SKzJLFpEBPRgTef9SDQkj0MYavfe1Eoz-r5mS/s1600-h/IMG_2503.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0cWxeugUv0PcHWSzOS8kX91flSXWd6R-Tzusm6_fIMdRg1llNjCQvjmI_b5XPZc5Tyo3OqVy7Y_v3z34TU3VkRLEJkRNQqHxj3eNeVA8SKzJLFpEBPRgTef9SDQkj0MYavfe1Eoz-r5mS/s320/IMG_2503.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262198245767721154" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Here's wishing you and yours a very happy Diwali and a prosperous New Year.Adhi Potobahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07410548589656234414noreply@blogger.com4