Vangyachi bhaji: Of fishy vegetables and other aversions!

You know what you’re eating is a fish, don’t you?” teases the older brother. The victim is his six-year old sister – my mother-in-law.

“Eeee… “ and she runs screaming from the room. Brought up in a very orthodox vegetarian household, where even eggs are anathema, the idea of eating fish makes her distinctly… queasy!

It’s been some seven decades after that but she still runs screaming (mentally , of course!) at the idea of eating eggplant – which is what the original seventy-years-ago dish was! My father-in-law, on the other hand, was a lover of the eggplant in any form and there was always a tussle about the number of times eggplant appeared on the menu – he would have happily eaten it everyday and she would have comfortably dispensed with it more than once a month!

Since hers was the hand that cooked and he wouldn’t have known what to do with an eggplant other than stare at it longingly hoping it would give up its delicious secrets, he needed to get her in a really good mood before the dish could be broached! She did, I must say, overcome her aversion enough to cook it for him but would always make something else for herself!

This bargaining is true of almost every household where the husband and wife have different ideas of what constitutes haute cuisine… or maybe even what constitutes edible food! During the early days of my marriage, I was horrified at the number of things hubby thought were not fit for the table – from capsicums to cauliflowers to omelettes with paranthas (my top favourite breakfast!) to jaggery to his very favourite peeve – garlic! In the beginning I took these seriously, thinking he really had a problem with the veggies. Then one day, at a Chinese restaurant, our man polishes off two bowlfuls of sweet garlic sauce, insisting it had no garlic!

I go back home and all pretences to avoiding this and that are dropped – I learn to sneak in podfuls of garlic in arrabiata sauce without our pal being any the wiser!

Me? I’d been brought up by a dad who was strict about us not expressing any dislikes of food – we could have preferences but we were definitely not allowed dislikes – which in effect – translated to ‘just eat what’s put in front of you’! And if you fussed, a stern “Mingu” (Swallow that!) took care of any fuss – down it went – food, salty tears and all!

I tried bringing up my kids on the same principles (without the ‘mingu’ business though!) and while they are not fussy eaters, Arch now insists that she has developed food preferences and I’d better watch out – she will no longer eat cabbage! Haha, I can live with that, I tell her… but what she doesn’t know yet is that I wasn’t born yesterday and have many more years of sneaking things into things without their knowing anything about it!

This one though, doesn’t need any sneakiness – it is by itself one of the most delicious ways of eating eggplant – the Maharashtrian way, which I have adapted slightly.

 

VANGYACHI BHAJI/EGGPLANT CURRY

 

  • Small, tender brinjals – 250 gm. Cut into cubes or slices
  • Peanuts – 1 tbsp
  • Sesame seeds – 1 tsp
  • Dry coconut/copra – 1.5 tbsp
  • Red chilies – 4
  • Saunf/aniseed – 1/2 tsp (optional)
  • Jeera/cumin – 1/2 tsp
  • Green chili – 1- chopped
  • Onion – chopped – 2 tbsp
  • Turmeric – 1/4 tsp
  • Tamarind powder or paste – 1/2 tsp
  • Jaggery – 1/2 tsp
  • Asafoetida – 1 pinch
  • Curry leaves – a few
  • Salt
  • Any vegetable oil – 1 tbsp

 

Roast the peanuts, sesame, red chilies and aniseed separately in a dry pan. Cool and powder roughly.

 

Heat the oil in a pan and add the jeera. When it splutters, add curry leaves, asafoetida, green chili and onions. Fry till golden and add the turmeric and brinjal (eggplant) pieces. Add salt and tamarind and mix well. Cover and cook for about 7-8 minutes on a low flame till tender. Add the peanut powder, jaggery and mix again.

 

Cook for a further five minutes. Garnish with chopped fresh coriander and serve with rotis or rice as a side.

 

Promise people will run screaming towards this dish!

Omapodi: Of monkeys and their songs!

Amma, can we play your monkey song?”

Huh? What? What monkey song?” I ask.

The baby – that’s what she is – a little short of two years old – takes her fingers out of her mouth (where they have an almost permanent abode!), to answer this slightly dim mother patiently – “You know, amma, yesterday you played it… ”

I think back.

It’s siesta time for the baby and I usually sit with her on my lap, on a rocking chair and play one of the cassettes of childrens’ songs that she loves. Or I sing to her (okay, okay calling what I do singing is a bit of a stretch but I do! Sing the Hanuman Chalisa to her!)

After having played “Old MacDonald” for the millionth time, I want to murder every duck which goes “a quack, quack here and a quack, quack there.” So one afternoon, as she’s dropping off, I quietly play one of my old Hindi film song cassettes. From the movie Sangam. One of the songs is Tere man ki Ganga, mere man ki Yamuna ( the Ganga that is your soul and the Yamuna that is mine). The very sleepy baby perks up immediately.

Amma, what is that?”

Amma’s songs,” I answer.

“Can we have Paapa’s songs?” she asks. She refers to herself as Paapa – baby.

“Every day we have your songs, paapa. Today can we have amma’s songs?” I request her politely.

She ruminates over this with her fingers stuck firmly in the mouth. It seems a reasonable request. “Okay, amma,” she says – she is a very reasonable baby!

She then listens carefully to “amma’s songs” before going off to sleep – though the catnaps that she takes can hardly be called sleeping! Kanch is one of those babies who never seems to sleep – preferring to catnap through the day and night. She hardly ever cries, but will wake up through the night wanting to play! For two working parents, it is pretty stressful to make do with a few hours of sleep every night!  But the grin that is an invitation to join her in her playtime – at two in the morning – is completely irresistible!

Having listened to my songs one afternoon, she makes a request for it again the following day.

“Can we play amma’s monkey song?”

Used to listening to animal songs, she thinks the Hindi tere man ki Ganga is a song about a monkey – phew!

Of course I can – and I do!

This baby definitely has a lot of affinity to monkeys – being born in the year of the monkey according to the Chinese calendar and being more than a little bit of a monkey in her nature!

And here’s an old favourite at home – for the very special monkey in our lives…

 

OMAPODI/SEV

 

  • Besan/gram flour /senaga pindi/kadalai maavu – 1 cup
  • Rice flour – 2 tbsp
  • Ajwain/omam powder – 3/4 tsp
  • Salt – 3/4 tsp
  • Red chili powder – 1/2 tsp
  • Asafoetida powder – 1/4 tsp
  • Melted ghee – 1 tsp
  • Curry leaves – optional – a few sprigs
  • Oil to deep fry

Mix the besan, rice flour, salt, ajwain, red chili powder and asafoetida together.

 

Pour the ghee into it and mix with your fingers till it resembles fine breadcrumbs. Add enough water and knead into a semi-stiff dough.

 

Squeeze through the fine holes of  a murukku maker into hot oil. It will sizzle up and turn golden yellow. Do not let it brown. Turn over and cook for a few seconds.

 

Remove and drain on kitchen paper.

 

Fry the curry leaves till crisp and add on top. Store in a container when cool.

 

The most addctive tea time snack ever-  much like the monkey song!

Kodubale: also known as the great Indian head bobble!

Haanh, haanh,” he shakes his head vigorously.

“What? What did you say? Yes or no?”

Haanh, HAAAN!” Any more vigorous waggling and the head would fall right off its stalk!

“What ARE you saying?” asks the official at the consulate in increasing frustration.

“I said na? Haanh?!”

Naah? Haan? What? WHAAT?” as he mentally clutches his head…

Jiggle, jiggle, wiggle, waggle, woggle goes the head round and round, in a weird imitiation of a Tanjavur doll (see pic!)

“Now please listen to me, Sir,” tries the frustrated official again (thinking in his head – this guy’s cv says he holds a master’s degree in engineering, he’s got to know English!), “DO-YOU-SPEAK-ENG-LISH?” he enunciates each syllable.

Joggle, joggle, bobble, bobble goes our man’s head, frustratedly trying to convey agreement and wondering why on earth this man does not get a simple head-woggle! Surely English is the language spoken in America – what’s wrong with this guy?!!

Ever had this experience?

When this head wobble is done in silence, as it often is – Indians tend to be dilatory, putting the listener into a semi-comatose state much of the time, where the only thing the guy can do is to stare at you silently as you speak and bobble his head occasionally! Ever seen a snake charmer with a snake and how the snake follows the movements of the pungi – the gourd-like instrument he plays? Basically the snake is caught – in the player’s headlights, so to say – and can’t get free! This is pretty much what happens when Indians listen to other dilatory Indians, expounding on their favourite subject – anything from movies, to cricket to theology to politics – we are all caught by the speaker’s voice and stunned into a torpid state where all you can do – pretty much – is to bobble your head!

The other thing about this bobble is how infectious it is – watch a guy doing it for a few minutes and I defy you not to bobble your head the next time someone asks you a question!

Ever realised just how universal it is across India – with variations – less in the North and intense as you travel down South to Kerala. It may mean slightly different things but basically it could mean anything from vigorous understanding (this gesture needs a neck brace after you’ve done it – there is serious danger of you losing your head!) to acknowledgement of a fellow traveler on  a bus, for instance (ah, yes, I see you, I recognise you, glad you are here!). It could also be you are following your own train of thought and nodding away in agreement with your inner self – the need to acknowledge it is enormous – resulting in an almighty bobble sometimes!)

There’s been all this fuss about Facebook coming up with a ‘dislike’ button or a ‘something’ button to signify sympathy/understanding/agreement/whatever – why don’t they just use the Indian head bobble – why reinvent the wheel???!

And so we go round and round with our heads… rather like this savoury teatime snack from Karnataka… the famous…

 

KODUBALE/CHEKODI

 

  • Rice Flour 1 cup
  • Fine semolina/Chiroti rava 1/4 cup
  • Maida / plain flour 1/4 cup
  • Grated coconut 1/2 cup
  • Any vegetable oil or butter 3 tbsp
  • Red chili pwd -1/2 tsp
  • Asafoetida 1/4 tsp
  • Salt 1 tsp
  • Ajwain/carom seeds 1/2 tsp
  • Water 3/4 cup
  • Oil for deep frying

Dry roast semolina for 2 to 3 mins. Add the maida and mix well.

Grind grated coconut and red chili together to a fine paste with little water.

Mix semolina, maida, rice flour and the grated coconut, red chili pwd.

Add salt, carom seeds, water, asafoetida and oil with the flour.

Knead into a smooth, pliable dough.

Now roll it into long cylinders about the thickness of your little finger – 1/3 cm thick.  Cut into to small pieces – about two inches long.

Roll it to small rounds/rings, pinch edges together

Heat oil to medium heat for deep frying.

To check if oil is in correct stage to start frying, just drop a small piece of dough, it should pop up immediately.

Gently slide in the rings to fry. Fry till the oil stops sizzling and it turns a deep golden brown.

Drain and set aside. Tin when cool.

Store in an air tight container.

 

Okay? Got it? Bobble, bobble?

Obbattu: Of the unbearable nature of translations!

“Hi ma… how are you?… bzzz bzzzz… ” murmurs hubby indistinctly.

I am still in a post operative haze after my second child is born and can barely hear what he is saying… beyond some soothing noises.

I make some noises back – at least I think those are noises I am making, I cannot recognise my own voice… before sinking back into unconsciousness.

He tells me later that he said something nice and kind and the “right” post-wife’s-delivery things to me in my stupor and I corrected his English before slipping off into unconsciousness! I, in a very-undutiful-wifely manner, giggled at the story – serves you right!

Yes, I am one of those horrible people – and I know there are millions of us – who automatically correct everything they see – including billboards on the highway, advertising copy, the English in pamphlets thrust under your nose as you’re walking on the beach and which it seems rude to refuse and worst offender of all – subtitles in movies! These used to irritate me no end til I figured out the way to deal with them was to read them as they are and then fall off the sofa laughing! Many a serious drama has turned into an unintentionally gut-busting comedy by this simple expedient!

Indian film songs are the best when subtitled… sample these:

Nazar ke saamne… jigar ke paas...

Translation: In front of my eyes, near my liver! (okay, that’s creepily close!)

Beedi jalaiyle jigar se piya, jigar mein badi aag hai...

Tr: Light your cigarette with my liver, my liver is on fire! (wow, dial the ER, don’t sing man!)

Tohfa, tohfa, tohfa… laaya laaya… laaya

Tr: Gift, gift, gift… I brought, I brought, I brought! (ok, ok, thanks!)

Gorey gorey mukhde pe kaale kaale chashma… tauba khuda khair kare… khoob hai karishma…

Tr: Black, black goggles on a white, white face… God ha’mercy, what a miracle, what a miracle! (God ha’mercy, indeed!)

Aaao… tumhe sikhaaooo… ande ka funda!

Tr: Come… I will teach you… the basics of an EGG! (huh?)

Or one of my favourites: Samundar men nahathe hue tum aur bhi… namkeen ho gayi ho… !

Tr: After bathing in the sea, you have become even more salty!! (Guy after my own heart, I’m sure, everything depends on the five tastes!!)

Nothing, however, changes how delicious this sweet dish from Karnataka (variations are made everywhere but the original is from Karnataka and Maharashtra!)

 

OBBATTU/POLI /BOBBATTU

 

 Ingredients for the dough

 

  • Maida/plain flour – 1 cup
  • Chiroti Rava/very fine semolina -3 tbsp
  • Turmeric-a pinch
  • Salt- a pinch
  • Sesame oil – 1 Tbsp
  • Water

Ingredients for the filling

 

  • Grated coconut – 1 cup
  • Grated jaggery – 1 cup
  • Poppy seeds – 2 tbsp (optional)
  • Cardamom powder- 1/4 tsp
  • Ghee – 1 tbsp

 

Knead the dough first by mixing together maida, chiroti rava, a pinch of salt, turmeric, oil and add water little by little to make a very soft elastic dough, softer than roti dough. Smear a little oil all over the dough, cover and let rest for 2-3 hrs.

Roast the poppy seeds in a pan till aromatic.

Add the grated coconut and roast for a few minutes and then add the crushed jaggery, ghee and cardamom.

Mix well and stir for a few minutes till the jaggery melts.

Let it cool for a few minutes and roll out lemon size balls of the mixture.

For making the obbattu, grease your palms and on a wax paper or a clean plastic sheet, take a table tennis ball size of the dough. Pat it into a small round, place the stuffing on it and cover it like how you would do for stuffed parantha. Greasing your palms well, pat or roll out into a thin roti.

Heat a tava on medium high and cook the obbattu on each side for about 2 mins till golden brown in colour. It will puff up a little. Do not flip over again and again. Add a few drops of ghee while frying.

 

Stored in an air tight container, it can last for up to a week.

Satyanarayana swami pooja prasadam: What if the monkeys eat up the sitaphals at midnight?

It’s been a miserably hot day, like most other days in Madras and I am happy to sink into my bed with the a/c on at full blast. The kids – there are three of them today – Vinski (real name Vinaya but she’s such a tiny half pint that there has to be a diminutive!), Archana’s closest chum, is also spending the weekend with us. The a/c in the kids’ room has conked out (again!) and they have all piled into my bed. Thankfully, we have a large bed and hubby is not in town so there is enough room for everyone.

Before I can sink into sleep, however, a bony elbow pokes me in in the side. I shift. Soon a bonier knee pokes me in the fleshy part. Owf! I move again, turn over and try to shut my eyes tightly. The pokes become more pronounced. I give up.

“Not able to sleep, baby?” I ask the poker.

“Anu auntie,” in the most impossibly high register comes back a squeak. “I’m thinking of that sitaphal basket sitting on the table. Do you think it will be safe?”

“From what?” I whisper back, trying not to wake the other two – though it would have taken an earthquake to make a dent in their slumber!

“I don’t know. Maybe a rat? Maybe… maybe monkeys, you think?”!! Always blessed with the most vivid of imaginations, this kid is the lead creator of all new games and of course, the instigator of a lot of unexplained mischief!

I know what’s going through her mind – all through dinner, her eyes have been on this bunch of big, beautiful sitaphal (not easy to get the really good ones in Madras). I ask her if she wants one after dinner but she shakes her head – she’s full. Her tummy that is… but the heart evidently has other ideas – as evidenced by the midnight poking in my ribs! And so, we finally sneak out of the room, sit and polish off two large sitaphals in companiable silence, and stomachs and souls sated… we got back to bed, to sleep with no more poky bones!

We are a bunch of fruit lovers – able to polish off prodigious quantities with no perceptible effect on our appetites for dinner! I have, on my own, as a child, eaten twenty sitaphals at one sitting and could have eaten more if they hadn’t run out!

Which is why my favourite desserts tend to be fruit-based too and even favourite prasadams, like this…

 

SATYANARAYANA SWAMI POOJA PRASADAM (which I will make without a pooja!)

 

  • Fine semolina/rava – 1 cup
  • Ghee 1/2 cup
  • Milk – 1 cup
  • Water – 1 cup
  • Sugar – 3/4 cup
  • Saffron – a few strands
  • Edible camphor/pacha karpooram – 1 tiny sliver about the size of a mustard seed
  • Cardamoms – 2  – powdered
  • Sliced banana – 1
  • Fresh coconut – cut into slivers – 2 tbsps
  • Slivers of almonds/ cashewnuts and whole raisins – 3 tsbp
  • Tulsi/sacred basil leaves – 3-4

Roast the rava in a dry pan till it smells well, “roasty”!

Heat a tbsp of ghee in a pan and fry the nuts and raisins till golden. Remove and set aside.

Add the rest of the ghee and drop in the tulsi leaves. Add the roasted rava and fry till pale yellow.

Mix the milk and sugar together and pour into the rava, stirring constantly. Add water.

Cover and cook on a low flame for 5-6 minutes till the rava is tender.

Add the saffron, edible camphor and cardamom and mix well. Switch off. Cool a bit and add the sliced bananas and coconut.

 

Dat’s it – easy peasy – a ten minute dessert!

Save it from the monkeys – for your own monkeys!