Faith, family and fursat

Heigh ho and I’m back! After 4 months…4 whole months of vacations, distractions and (it has to be said) a loss of creative energies, C&K is back! Those who reminded me, those who asked about my blog, those who wrote in and those who told me they miss it – I humbly give thanks. You kept the Faith and I’m grateful you did.

Summer happened a lifetime ago, but its experiences sustain us through the year. A large part of the summer holidays were spent in India – as always it was a full on experience of sights, sounds and smells, with a great deal of eating, meeting and talking happening. This year a bereavement brought the whole family together. And when I say `brought together’ it literally means that. For many days, close relatives literally camp out at the home of the bereaved, offering love, support, food and togetherness. Being the inveterate observer of people that I am, I would often sit in a quiet corner and marvel at the Great Indian Family. I would watch various relatives bustling about, and think about how the connections of blood and marriage bring disparate people together and bind us in an unspoken bond.

During those long days together, after lunch, as is necessitated by the tropical heat, it would be nap time. That was typically the time people would break off into groups by age and gender and find a room each to occupy and find some quiet time. My 4 sisters-in-law and I would all huddle together on one bed, chatting, gossiping, sharing our grief and occasionally catching 40 winks.

And of course when people are together for extended periods of time, there has to be food – even during a time of sorrow, food nourishes and sustains the body and the mind and reminds us of the essence of being alive. So there was food and there was Fursat food. Literally, fursat is an Urdu word that means leisure. But like many words, it has a meaning beyond the literal. It evokes a mood – languor, relaxation and a feeling of revelling in the quietude of the moment.

There are some foods that you can eat only when you `have the time’ – little munchies that do not really satisfy hunger pangs but are what you can call `time pass’. Jamuns are one such.

The jamun is a lovely little fruit that grows mostly in the Indian subcontinent – vividly purple-black, with a large seed at the centre, and a sweet-sour-astringent taste, the jamun is definitely a fruit to be eaten to `time-pass’. Because the berries are small, they are not particularly filling, and because the fruit stains your tongue and fingers purple, it cannot be eaten in a very `civilized’ setting or when wearing really nice clothes!

Purple n plump!

I have wonderful memories of a childhood spent with a large jamun tree in the backyard of our house. My sister and I would whack at the branches with a long bamboo stick and then scuttle around to pick up all the fruit that would fall to the ground. A good wash, and the fun part would begin. The jamuns are dumped in a steel bowl, sprinkled with salt, covered with a lid, and …shake, rattle and roll!! The whacking would bruise the skins, the purple juice would ooze out, blend with the salt…and make magic. Grabbing the bowl and arguing about `my turn now!’ was part of the ritual.

Some salt, a steel bowl, a lid and a good whacking is all it takes

It still works the same way. There’s something so unchanging about the way jamuns are sold and eaten – the jamunwala (jamun seller) balances a basket on the back of his cycle and rides slowly along the street, yelling `Jamuuunnnn walllllaaaaa’. All you have to do is run out into the verandah and yell for him. He cycles right up to your doorstep while you organise the money.  How’s that for service? Interestingly Italy also retains some elements of it’s older, more traditional society. On Thursdays we have a fish seller that visits my village. He parks his van on the main square and yells out `Pesche!!’ at regular intervals…I did a double take when I first saw him. So much like it is back home!

Back to the jamun then. Unchanging but much changed. Just like my country, the ancient Hindu name of which is Jambudwipa (the land where jamuns grow). The winds of market forces blow. From a humble wild fruit it is now an exotic and pricey one sold in the best fruit shops, not just by the jamunwala. Is it because it is now recognized for its fantastic antioxidant properties (like all purple fruit and veg)? Or is it because it is in demand for the therapeutic effect it has on diabetes? Or is it just that the large backyards have disappeared and so have the trees, exposing this homey little fruit to the vagaries of consumer demand?

Whatever be the reason, it still reminds me of childhood, of change and also of changelessness – like love, like food and like fursat.

Lotus Eaters

School’s out! And with the summer holiday comes the slowing down of the days, the blurring of our  year-long schedules, and the sheer joy of hanging out and doing nothing. It is the kids who are off school but nothing to stop mom from enjoying the perks of the sumer hols as well! Only one phrase comes to mind – lotus eaters. In Greek mythology the Lotus Eaters were a tribe that lived on an island where the primary food was the lotus plant  – being narcotic in nature, it kept the islanders in a perpetual state of relaxation and drowsiness…therefore the phrase, referring to a life of indolence.

While in the mood of flower eating I must share with you my fresh Italian discovery  – zucchini fiori. A vivid orange and red with lacy petals, these flowers are a delight for the eyes and certainly for the palate. Every week I find myself irresistibly drawn to them at the market, and come home with a big bagful.

Interestingly, there are male flowers  and female flowers; the female of the species is showy and  robust – it has a small zucchini attached.

The male flower by contrast, is delicate and more subtle in it appeal.

Zucchini fiori  are as delicate as they look – so they  need to be handled with care. Essentially that means – don’t squash them in the shopping bag, use them the day they are bought,  rinse them gently in water, and use a light touch when cooking them.

I’ve tried many different recipes with them – friend in tempura batter (yum!), steamed and added to a salad (nice!), in an omlette or stir fry (loses all its special appeal), but my favourite really has to be sautéed flowers – lightly cooked in olive oil with an onion and a small amount of  crushed garlic, and topped with bit of lemon juice and salt. As a light appetizer or a side dish /salad, it’s perfect for the summers. Enjoy your holidays!

And if you’re up to it, read this little extract from Tennyson’s poem Lotus Eaters which describes how some mariners are put into an altered state when they eat the lotus.

Branches they bore of that enchanted stem,

Laden with flower and fruit, whereof they gave

To each, but whoso did receive of them

And taste, to him the gushing of the wave

Far far away did seem to mourn and rave

On alien shores; and if his fellow spake,

His voice was thin, as voices from the grave;

And deep-asleep he seem’d, yet all awake,

And music in his ears his beating heart did make

The Ides of summer

It’s only now, after living in Europe for over five years that I can truly appreciate the Europeans’ love of the sun and summer. After the dark wet days of winter and the moody greys of spring and autumn, summer in Europe is a delight for the soul and the senses.

Summer  in the plains of North India where I come from, is loooong, HOT, dusty and brutish. Wake up and the sun is high in the sky already;  at its zenith, it forces you to stay indoors, shades drawn, houses dark and cool. Even after sundown, when you step out for a late night  ice lolly, the summer wind, the infamous Loo still blows hot, bringing with it particles of fine desert sand that layer the surface of just-shined furniture in a few hours.

But we humans are ingenious and  resilient creatures, and we’ve evolved various mechanisms to cope with our climate. Cool white chikan cottons, khus-perfumed air coolers, tall glasses of Rooh Afza (rose sherbet), bamboo chiks (blinds)…all of which carry for me, the nostalgia of summers past.

Mother Nature is also generous in offering us compensation for our sufferings – watermelons, musk melons, and litchis flood the markets and the taste buds. But the king of all fruits, undisputedly, is the mango.  In my culture, its  not just a fruit – it’s a fruit laden with significance and meaning. A symbol of abundance and fertility, garlands of mango leaves are strung across doorways in welcome and celebration. The mango blossom is symbol of beauty and innocence, and is celebrated in the famous Paisley design, our contribution to the world of fashion. (Just check out the design on the masthead of this blog – are you surprised that it is what it is?!)

And the fruit itself?  Well what can I say? Just that there is nothing like the sweet, juicy mango-ey taste of Indian mangoes. Once you’ve tasted Indian (and I concede, Pakistani) mangoes you will never eat any other (Here I will beg the indulgence of my South American friends with whom I have a long running debate on the topic …). The months of May-Aug are marked by the arrivals of different varieties of mangoes, each distinct from the other, and each with its band of ardent followers, many of whom would happily challenge you to a duel to prove the superiority of their favourite mangoes over yours!

Here in Italy we do get imported mangoes in the supermarket – I’m sure you’d have understood by now that in my eyes they are well…how do I say this? Yes they are mangoes but…

But hey! I’m not one to give up so easily! If I see it, I figure out a use for it! It’s not so great to eat, but with its sweet-sour taste and firm texture, it works fantastically well as a salad ingredient. That’s what I use it for when I get nostalgic around this time of year  – the flavors and senses transport me back to an Indian  summer, and it  is a delicious, healthy and refreshing addition to a meal or a barbecue.

COOL SUMMERY  MANGO SALAD

* Mango (firm, not fully ripe)  – 1

* Cucumber – 1 or 2

* Fresh mint leaves – a few

* Juice of 1 lemon or lime

* Peanut oil (or any vegetable oil)

* Sesame seeds (optional)

* Red chili flakes – 1 pinch (optional)

* Crushed salted peanuts – 1 tbsp (optional)

* Sugar – 1 big pinch

* Salt to taste

– Peel the mango, Slice and cut into thin slivers

– Peel and de-seed the cucumber. I’ve worked out an easy method here. Cut the cucumber into cylinders, then use an apple corer to deseed. Slice into slivers like the mango. Shredding or grating it would make it too watery, which would give you a soggy, not crunchy salad

– Toss in all of the remaining ingredients (except the mint and peanuts), and chill well (if its going to be many hours before you eat, it might be better to leave out the salt at this point and add it just before serving)

– Before serving, mix again, scatter over the peanuts and the mint and serve

Enjoy the summer holidays!

Getting fresh !

I’m quite a gadget gal. Give me a job and I’ll look for the perfect tool for it. Give me a tool and I’ll find myself seeking out a job for it. In the kitchen of course gadgets and tools are very handy dandy. Everything from slicing to crushing to peeling, I’ve  got to get a tool or a  gadget for it. I scour shops for THAT perfect peeler, or THAT perfect strainer. Even come home with things that I use only in my Martha Stewart fantasies (Bundt tin) or at best once in 3 or 4 years (turkey carving set). Sometimes, I just have to bin them because they don’t work (perfect hamburger mould). I’ll admit there’s gotta be a name for this condition. But I have a logic – which is? Even if it gets used only once in a while, the job gets done perfectly!!  So then – apple slicer? Check. Cucumber corer? Check. Bottle top pressure releaser? Check. Icing spreader? Check. Olive pitter? Check.

Oh yes my olive pitter. Last used 2 years ago when I first arrived in Italy, picked up some gorgeous olives for an aperitivo and discovered they had seeds..not what I wanted to serve. My limited Italian did not let me read the label and check if they were `senza semi’. So voila – off I go and buy an olive pitter!  My guests enjoyed the olives, I learned some Italian and the pitter stayed where it was – at the bottom of a basket full of kitchen geegaws.

Until today – when the kids and I harvested our cherry tree for the second time this season, and landed up again with about 4 kgs of cherries. We’ve been enjoying the  plump sweet-sour cherries – not as perfectly unblemished and shiny as the supermarket stuff, but still delicious and so very fresh! The thought of it is as much fun as eating the fruit  – fresh, natural, pesticide-free cherries from your own garden.

But there’s only so many cherries you can eat – after all it is summer and there’s a lot of fruit eating to get done! So today I decided to do something mad – make cherry jam. Me? Jamming? Good Lord. When did I get to be this domesticated?! But if life hands you cherries….you get creative! So I thought back to Mom’s occasional jamming sessions, added on my logic and concepts of what a process for jam might be like, and finally, checked out Google (which, along with time zone differences, is rapidly putting mothers and aunties out of business in the recipe sharing department).

Long story short, I loved every bit of the process. It was pretty easy, very creative and wonderfully satisfying. At the end of this post. I’ll share with you my net-net take on it. For the moment, let me share with you the process. I did not follow a recipe, just read up a few of them and followed my instinct. Turned out well, so here it is.

FRESH AS FRESH GETS CHERRY JAM (Prep time 30 mins, cooking time 25 mins)

* Cherries – about 1/2 kg (Pitted ! This is where my olive pitter came in handy. Would have been a crazy job without it). Once pitted, chop roughly – I did this directly in the pan, slashing away with a pair of kitchen scissors.

* White sugar – approx 3/4th of volume of cherries (I just eyeballed it, no measurements). Yes – that’s a lot of sugar, and yes, that’s why regrettably, for me, jam has to be a weekend treat only!

* Juice and zest of 1 lemon. To set, jam needs a gelling agent (otherwise cooked fruit would stay as juice or pulp). Typically they use a substance called pectin which is found in the rind of citrus fruits. I wanted to make a simple jam without getting into the hassle of buying pectin (don’t ever remember Mom using any) so using lemons would give me the gelling quality I sought

In the pan! Meet Mr. Zester…one of my successful tools, used at least once a week for various jobs, not just zesting

– In a deep pan, put in cherries, lemon juice and rind and cook over medium heat for about 10 mins until the fruit has softened.

– Add the sugar and cook on medium-high heat until the mixtures boils and then reduces.It is important to stir frequently at this stage.  Once the foam settles and the bubbles disappear, the mixture will come together and  start to lightly coat the back of a spoon. Take it off the heat and let it cool even though it does not look very jammy at this stage – it tends to thicken as it cools. If it is already jammy when you take it off  the heat , it will become plasticky, like gummy bear candies!

The surface of Mars? Naah – just the just-complete jam in the pan

– If you can resist, wait for it to cool before enjoying it on bread or toast.

– Once it is cool, scoop it into a clean and dry glass jar with a tight lid, and it should last for a couple of weeks.

Would I do it again? Yep – if there was something special enough (like a glut of fruit) that would justify it. It is not much effort but it is easy to think about how much easier it is to jump out and buy a jar of top quality jam. It’s a recreational thing – and was fun for me because I was feeling creative. My kids loved it – again, the concept plays an important part here. Tiny sweet-sour cherry jam sandwiches made for  a fabulous summer dessert!

A spoonful of summer

Melon and Prosciutto

There’s a new section in the C&K blog (refer `Categories’ on the right) – and it is dedicated to strange and new foods – strange and new for me that is! Crickets, escargots and haggis aside, even foods that are usually quite `normal’ in one culture or region can be considered pretty strange in another. Interesting examples are how cinnamon is never used in sweet dishes in India (the home of cinnamon) while it is very common in European cookery. Have you ever had a beer with ice in it? It’s very common in South Vietnam….and so on.

For me, until I came to live in Italy, fruit was fruit and meat was meat and never did the two come together (very tempted to quote Kipling here but shall desist). Never did the two come together except for a Moroccan style tagine in which prunes or apricots were cooked with meat, or a biryani in which raisins lend a delicious surprise to a mouthful. But even here, the fruit is only a sidekick to the  to the star which  really is the meat.

In the glorious Italian summer, a delicious and refreshing starter is Melon & Proscuitto – a superb combination of meat and fruit, sweet and salt, mushy and chewy. Paper-thin slices of cured raw ham (crudo as opposed to the cooked ham- cotto) wrapped around juicy wedges of melon. I ate it at a restaurant, at a friend’s home and decided to make it myself. Mamma mia! Bonissimo!

I wish the next level of technology would be something that would allow smell to be captured in a photograph. The freshness of the melon and the freshly picked rosemary and sage made this photo shoot a treat! I enjoyed smelling this dish almost as much as  I enjoyed eating it.

Across the generations, with love

At my book club meeting last week, we were  reading a book that is based in the Balkans, in which superstitions, magic and myths form an important part of the narrative. That was our cue to discussing superstitions and how they work across different cultures.

It was a fascinating topic because there was such a range of practices and reactions. The Scandinavian ladies found it faintly amusing because superstitions have more or less disappeared from their culture. The American lady was similarly bemused, and stated that superstitions worked in her culture only at a very superficial level – a black cat crossing the path meant bad luck, for example, but not that one would do anything about it.

It was the Libyan, the Greek and the Indian lady who had a lot to say! In some cultures superstitions are recognized for what they are – we know there is no logic to them, but hey – what’s the harm?. So using Vaastu to design your house (Indian) and reading the coffee grounds (Greek) are just tools in your kit to draw good luck towards you and your family, and push away the bad things that might happen.

The concept of Nazar (the Evil Eye) is something that is common to many Asian/Middle Eastern cultures, and a lot is done to keep it at bay – black kohl marks on a child’s forehead to make him `ugly’ , hanging up Evil Eye charms, mumbling ancient incantations while burning red chillies or adding oil to wine to check the level of nazar…all these are quaint leftovers from a time when a lot of the material world was still `unknown’ (from a scientific point of view), and life was hard and unpredictable (alas, still is for masses of  humanity…)

Leftovers they might be, but superstitions tend to seep into our collective DNA and many of us practice them still, at one level or another, in one form or another, religious or social. Every time  we say `touch wood /knock on wood’ we hark back to a time of `pagan’ religions when evil spirits were said to reside in trees and woods so knocking on wood meant they could not hear your hopes. For many, Friday the 13th still evokes a mild form of dread or an expectation of strange events. At a deeper level superstitions are also a way of connecting to our culture and our roots, and can even be something that makes us feel special or loved and protected.

A charm of lime and chilles hung up at the doorway of a house to keep away evil influences

Superstitions crossed my path in the form of my late grandmother-in-law who left us 3 years ago, at the blessed age of 101. When I married, I moved into my husband’s house as the third generation – us, my mother-in-law and my grandmother-in-law! In India, that’s absolutely not unusual. My first pregnancy was a difficult one – and , my How To Survive A Difficult Pregnancy kit included doctors, bed rest, home remedies, good food (too much of it), and…superstitions  and magic charms! Nary a week went past without her `removing’ the nazar that had been cast on me, or tying up some seeds / herbs into handkerchiefs and spiriting them under my pillow for the safety of my little one or tying various threads and charms onto my arms to keep me healthy. What could I say? To logical, educated, independent  me, it was just a game, something I would tolerate just to please her. Now when I look back, I know what love, what caring and what hopes went into all those charms. As a mother, I am  now often tempted to perform some protective magic rituals on my kids!

She was quite an amazing person, and the  extended family misses her still. Without getting into a teary-eyed exaltation, I will say that through her persona I discovered that it is not necessary to be very educated to be intelligent, well informed or have a load of common sense. Just about literate, she had an amazing ability to grasp new concepts and a was blessed with a fantastic memory. She never ever used a calendar and knew in her head, all the birthdays and anniversaries of her 7 children and their wives, her 20 grandchildren and their spouses, and her 6 great-grandchildren, apart from those of sundry friends and relatives. She would do quick-as-lightning sums in her head, whether it was calculating the exact change from the cook’s vegetable shopping trip or the ironing man’s complicated pricing at 90 /55 paise per garment depending on size.

She was a superb cook, and what people recall about her still is that no one left her house hungry, no matter what time of the day or night they visited (in the old days, in the absence of telephones, having a group of 10 people descend on your house at lunchtime was common…just thinking of it makes me shudder!!). With limited resources and a abundance of patience, she could dish up a simple meal in no time at all, all the while keeping up a very social, warm chatter.

One of these time-tested dishes was tamatar-pyaz ki chutney (Tomato-Onion Chutney). It is something that can be cooked with up ingredients that are always present in an (Indian) kitchen, takes no time to put together, and served with fresh hot rotis (flatbreads) and yogurt, is a delicious, nutritious and comforting meal. In Italy I would recommend it with freshly grilled piadinas…yum!

TAMATAR-PYAZ KI CHUTNEY (TOMATO-ONION CHUTNEY) (Prep time 10 mins, cooking time 5 mins)

* Ripe tomatoes – 4 (sliced)

* Red onions – 1 or 2 (sliced)

* Garlic cloves – 6 (sliced)

* Fresh green or red chillies (optional)  – 1 or 2 (chopped)

* Spices (use as many of these as you have – a big pinch of each) – whole black peppercorns, mustard seeds, coriander seeds, nigella (kalonji) and sesame seeds

* Vegetable oil (not olive – I feel it’s flavor is not very compatible with Indian food) – 1-2 tbsps (the more the better it tastes!)

* Salt – to taste

* Sugar – 1/2 tsp

* Ideally, fresh green coriander and mint leaves (I had neither, the day I cooked this)

– Heat oil in a pan until it’s smoking

– Lower the heat and add the spices, except for the sesame seeds

– After 10 seconds, add the onions and garlic (yes – 10 seconds…so the spices do not burn and make your dish bitter)

– Fry for 3-4 mins until the onions are translucent

– Add the tomatoes and fry another 3-4 mins until tomatoes are soft but still retain their shape

– Add the salt, sugar, and chillies, switch off the heat, and cover

– Let it sit around for 5 mins so the residual heat brings all the flavors togeher

– Uncover, scatter sesame seeds and fresh coriander and mint over the dish, and serve warm or at room temperature

So did you learn anything special from your grandmother? I’d love to hear from you!

Just Chilling

And I’m back!! April has been a mad mad month – from the point of view of a struggling blog writer that is. Easter vacations, piles of laundry after holidays, house guests and to add to all of that, the kids were off school for 3 consecutive Wednesdays of the month! Coincidentally we had Report Day and 2 national holidays all on Wednesdays.

A day a week did not seem like a lot until I analyzed it – the day was typically Wednesday – just when everyone has warmed up to the work week, there’s a break. A day off for the kids means 3 days off my relaxed housewifely schedule – On Tuesday I  shop for munchies and fix up playdates (oh sorry – my teen does not do play dates any more. He `hangs out’ with friends. Playdates are for wusses). On Wednesday, drive them around or entertain their friends. On Thursday, pick up assorted books and things lying around, generally clear the clutter and take a breather. On Friday, get set for the weekend…you get the drift ; ) Or as L&M puts it ” All these are just excuses, you’re just getting lazy about your blog” . If you’re a mom, I know you’ll understand. And if you’re not, well I’ll beg your indulgence.

Busy bugs in my garden

I’m only just starting to discover the joys of being a teen mum (a mum of a teen that is!!). The constant interactions with friends, the music that fills the house when his pals bring their guitars over and they jam all afternoon, the sudden and exciting appearance of a gang of classmates who were wandering in the neighbourhood and decided to ring our doorbell, a friend who suddenly decides to stay to dinner  and puts me in a panic over whether he’ll be happy to eat the typically Punjabi chane-chaval (1-black-garbanzo-curry-500×500-kalynskitchen.jpg_) I’ve cooked.

On one of those Wednesdays off, A’s gang of 7 decided to land up. It was a hot hot day and I know how these kids love a cool cool drink. Fizzy drinks are always in demand but for the last few years my kids have been fans of bottled ice tea. WHAT do they put in it? My boys would drink gallons of it if I’d let them! To my mind its a sugary drink perhaps a shade better-for-you than fizzy drink, but that’s it.

Legend has it (and many of us are familiar with this) that iced tea in its modern format was the `invention’ of Richard Belchynde, a merchant and tea plantation owner. At the World’s Fair in St. Louis in 1904, he was giving away samples of his (hot) tea but found very few takers because it was a blisteringly hot day. Tired and frustrated, he bought a whole load of ice and dumped it into his stock of tea, and voila! A refreshing new drink was born. That’s the legend and a nice one it is. My kids love this story.

Historical evidence  however shows that iced tea made with green tea was being consumed in America at least a hundred years before this incident.Cookbooks dating back to the early 1800s refer to recipes  for iced tea. Heavily spiked with alcohol, ice tea punch was a refreshing  beverage. One popular version was called Regent’s Punch, named for George IV, the English Prince Regent at the time. Regent’s Punch even today is an elegant and stylish party beverage, quite different in tone and tenor from the bog standard punch of my college days.

So it kind of feels like the natural descendant of Regent’s Punch should  be Long Island Iced Tea right? Nope – the potent cocktail has NO tea in it! So let’s not even go there…

But I digress – this blog was about kids and their love of iced tea. One afternoon when a thirsty horde of just-teens descended upon my house, all smiles and hugs and whassups, I decided to mix up a big jug of their ambrosia, fresh.

The essential ingredient – tea!

Do I have to tell you they loved it? Do I have to tell you the lapped up every last drop and asked for more? But I must tell you I was asked to bottle it and sell it at school…and they would ensure it was  properly marketed, pricing strategies were discussed as were advertising campaigns…all those budding young entrepreneurs!

Just add water!

It’s not  a unique or earth shattering method, it’s a simple recipe, full of good ingredients, refreshing and fun. Celebrating the joy of friendship (from my son’s perspective) and of motherhood (from my perspective), in these last few hours of Mother’s Day 2012, I share with you, my recipe for iced tea.

FRESH ICED TEA (prep time 5 mins, makes 6 large servings)

* Black tea bags – 4

* Sugar (brown or white. I use brown) or honey, or a mix of both (or you can make a sugar-free version, tastes great) – 6 tbsps approx (yeah, I know, that’s a lot of sugar…)

* Lemon – a large squeeze, to taste

* Fresh mint (optional)

* Ice, cold water

– Pop the tea bags and  sugar in a large jug and add boiling hot water, enough to cover the tea bags. Steep for 5 mins,

– Add a whole bunch of ice and cold water, and stir. Remove the tea bags.

– Add fresh mint and a squeeze of lime. (It’s still early to pick my mint, I want to let it grow a bit, so there’s none in this jug)

– Taste, adjust sugar and lemons according to how you like it. Serve right away or pop in the fridge for a couple of hours – it gets better as it sits around.

– Hug your kids, enjoy!

Christmas Redux

Ah – spring! And about time too! Winter is super foggy in my corner of Milan. From November onwards there are days and weeks when the rice fields are completely blanketed by a dense fog. Lovely and mysterious though it seems, I soon tire of it and long for days of sunshine when I can actually see beyond the garden hedge to the glorious views that lie yonder. Happily, spring comes early to Italy…and stays…

One of the things that I miss about winter though, is Pannetone, the glorious Christmas bread of Milan. For those who came in late, you might want to scroll down through my previous posts and read A Touch of Milanese Luxury. So it was with utter delight that I discovered that there is an Easter bread, very similar to pannetone that is available at this time of year.

When I brought it home, my kids wanted to know what was in that `cake suitcase'! Typically it is available only in a 1 kg size

Colomba is a traditional dove shaped Ester bread. The word `colomba’ means `dove’. Why is it  dove shaped? Well there’s a complicated legend about it. According to Denverpost.com, “Colomba’s history can be traced to Milan and the victory of Legnano, in 1176, when cities of the Lombard League defeated Emperor Frederick Barbarossa, who was intent on capturing Italy for the Holy Roman Empire. It is said that two doves, symbolizing the Holy Ghost, appeared on the altar of the chariot carrying the battle standards and that the colomba commemorates that event and victory – an example of the role of food in history and food as history.”

A very shapely bread

A more prosaic version has it that in the 1930s, the enterprising bakers at Motta, who were already famous for the Christmas Pannetone cooked up the idea of an Easter bread using the same ingredients and machines – talk about extending the business cycle!

Like Pannetone, Colomba is light and airy and made of luxurious ingredients – eggs, flour, sugar and candied citrus fruit. It’s topped with crunchy sugar bits and whole, unpeeled almonds.

I found the Colomba less `airy’ and more sweet than Pannetone – perhaps it’s an attempt to make up for all the abstinent eating at Lent! It is typically served with a glass of prosecco or dessert wine as a delicious after-dinner treat at Easter. Since I’m home alone at the moment, I’ll just be a good girl and drink a glass of water with it. Salute! Buon Pasqua!

Decadent pleasures

Last week was crazy – which is why this post is late…by my internal deadlines, that is. My inbox isn’t clogged up with irate mails from  my readers demanding to know why they could not have their weekly fix of C&K!

The week was full of medicines and medical visits – dentist, ophthalmologist, optician, and all the seasonal allergies to add to it. The long and short is, it was hyper. So I did something I have not done for a very very long time – I took a nap, an afternoon nap. Oh the luxury! Oh the comfort! Oh the sweet delight of knowing no one was going to disturb me for the next 2 hours at least! And oh the horror of having to remake the bed…and oh the misery of craving a nice cup of chai and having to make it on my own instead of having it brought up to me!

In the tropics, an afternoon nap is de rigeur IF your schedule affords it. The sapping heat, the enervating humidity and the early rising (5 am is pretty normal) all combine to make an afternoon nap one of the most amazing productivity tools there is. It breaks up a long hot day into the `before-and-after’ and ensures you can cope with the demands of your day. In Europe, I have not needed it ever. Unless it was a really really bad night with one of the kids or a jet lag thing. Weather is a major determinant of life patterns.

One of the really delicious memories of the high school/college routine is about getting home in the afternoon, taking a nap, and being woken up with a nice strong cup of chai brought to me by Ma or the cook. Fragrant, sweet, hot and refreshing, usually accompanied by a biscuit, this cup of tea was heaven itself, and revitalized the body and spirit for an evening outing with friends and the tons of homework that lay ahead. So Tarabai, Shashi, Anju, Sharda, Suong, Ha, Mary, Rukhsana and all the other cooks who have served me – my thanks and love go out to you all. And Ma – well what can I say? Where does one even start to thank a mother?

Tea is an inherent part of the Indian psyche and way of life. It’s considered a `basic’ of hospitality – not offering `even a cup of tea’ to every stripe of visitor to your home or office is a sign of extremely bad manners. So it was with this cultural background that I experienced some degree of horror when I got to know (a decade or so ago) that our tea drinking habit is just over a hundred years old. In an unbroken culture of 5,000 years, that does not even qualify as `yesterday’.

In many homes, tea is made in a saucepan that is reserved exclusively for that purpose. Over time it develops a dull brown patina and adds a mature flavor to the tea. I’m trying to start my own tradition here, with this special saucepan that has a nicely fitted lid and an inbuilt strainer – not a coincidence..I spent ages looking for it!

While indigenous varieties of tea bushes grew in North-East India and had been consumed by tribal people for centuries, it was the British that started the large scale cultivation of tea in Assam in the 1830s. The impetus was to cater to their domestic market that had developed an insatiable taste for the brew thanks to their trade with China. When tea was cultivated in Assam however, it was found to be bitter and more acidic than the Chinese tea. What to do? Different  variety, different geographical conditions. And so to make it palatable, they started drinking it with milk and sugar – a practice that spread to all of the Empire. Even today, it’s mostly people from the UK , Australia. Canada and of course the Indian Subcontinent that drink it that way.

As recently as 1910, the sales guys from Unilever used to set up tea stalls outside factories and in busy market places in India, introducing workers to the concept of drinking tea during their cigarette / beedi breaks from work. (Makes me wonder what they drank before – milk? juice? All expensive and hard-to-get-fresh options). My dad tells me that in rural and small-town India, even upto the 1940’s tea was considered a `not-so-respectable’ a drink, bordering tobacco and mild narcotics in its image as a beverage that is addictive and `does’ something to you.

What a distance tea has travelled! Thankfully.

While it almost wounds my Indian pride to know that it was the British who taught us to drink tea (it’s a drink we consider our very own!) I take heart in the fact that we have thoroughly `desified’ (Indianized) it – Masala chai is our contribution to the evolution of this wonderful beverage, something that is increasingly becoming fashionable as Chai tea or Chai tea Latte as Starbucks calls it.

So with a local spin on this universal beverage, infused and suffused with all the flavors of  my culture, I bring to you, (drum roll please…) Masala chai!

MASALA CHAI (prep time 2 mins, cooking time 10 mins, serves 1-2, depending on how large a serving you like)

* Water – 250 ml

* Fresh milk – 1 tbsp (or less or more depending on how milky you like your tea). But do remember – without milk, delicious though it may be, it is not masala chai.

* Sugar (brown or white) – at least double of what you normally would like in your tea. There’s something about the spices that necessitates the upping of the sugar content. Treat it as a dessert if you will! Or skip the sugar (like I do, alas) and compromise on some of the taste.

* Tea – 1 bag or 1 tsp of strong black tea

* Spices – this might seem like an intimidating list. Fear not. Use as many or as few of the spices as you have, without any great compromise on taste. Different combinations give different flavor variations, each one wonderful in it’s own way, each one therapeutic in it’s own way. Fennel chai always reminds me of childhood fevers and mom’s loving ministrations. A strong ginger chai is what I use when I have a headache or need a strong pick-me-up, and the total-mix is what I usually make when I have friends over. Over time, you will figure out just what you like. PS – please do use whole spices, not powders – powders are not aromatic enough, and will irritate the throat when you drink the tea.

# Green cardamom  – 1 (smashed open)

# Cinnamon – 1 cm stick

# Peppercorns – 2

# Clove – 1

# Fennel seeds – a pinch

# Fresh ginger – a 1-2 cm piece, unpeeled (there’s lot of flavour in the peel! But do remember to wash it please. Ginger is a root and can sometimes be a bit gritty). Prepare it as as convenient – grate, crush or slice thinly (I personally love the earthy `thump’ of crushing ginger)

– Put the water, the milk, the sugar and the spices in a saucepan – cover and bring to the boil.

– Uncover, add the tea and simmer for about 5 mins.

– At this point you can decide if you need more milk or need to let it simmer for longer because you like it stronger … maybe you’d like to add some more tea to it – let the color of the tea lead your judgment. I’m not a major milk fan, and prefer my tea more dark than light.

– Cover and let it steep for a minute or so.

– Strain, pour  out and enjoyyyy!!

When the cat is away…

Absence makes the heart grow fonder…or should it be `makes the hands get free-er’?  What is it about the spouse traveling that makes us women feel like there’s no work to do? I meet my friends at the school or the bus stop, and they often mention that their husbands are traveling, so they’ll just order in a pizza for dinner… or perhaps we could go for a daylong trip into town since she is pretty free today because…you guessed it, the husband is traveling!

Is is that all of us devoted wives put in more effort into meals and households when the men are around? Or are the men just hard to please?! Your votes please!

In my family also it feels like L&M (Lord and Master) is the one who eats all the food, generates all the laundry and is generally the reason for my feeling overworked and busy…when pretty much the opposite is the case! While he’s away, our meals are simpler (I think) and it generally feels like there is less to do. There is also a slight sense of lassitude, especially in the evening. Do you lovely women reading this blog feel the same way too?

His being absent is irritating – no one to talk to after 9 pm, no one to help with logistics when I need to take one child but not the other to the doctor, for example. And `burning’ issues that need decision making (like hotel bookings for holidays!) are postponed until the weekend.

Prolonged absences work on a different level altogether – acquaintances and experiences need explaining, moods are gone through and forgotten , movies and plays missed  because there is no one to go with, and all the little events that make up the glue of a shared life are overlooked, brushed away in the compulsion to be somewhere else. Hats off to those who work with long-distance marriages and make a success of them .

A few years ago, for 2 whole years, L&M was on an assignment where he needed to travel 3-6 weeks at a time – weekends included! Torture. And I went through all the  aforesaid annoyances of a long distance relationship. But haha …there were some perks of the situation – I could occupy every single shelf in the cupboard and shove his stuff in the corners! The shoe rack was all mine! No one to yank the duvet and leave me out in the cold ! I could be late for every outing with no one to harass me! Yeah!!

In his current assignment, he does not need to travel too much – just 1-2 nights every few weeks. But I get my perks still – eating eggplant! Eating Italian Chinese! All the foods he detests and the kids and I love. Yup – I said eggplant.

Tomorrow we go out for Italian Chinese. Utterly insipid if you’ve ever eaten Indian Chinese. Which is itself a scandalous version of Chinese Chinese. But tonight’s menu is eggplant/aubergine/baingan (in Hindi), something L&M is allergic to. Likes it, but the allergy comes and goes, so it’s better avoided. My kids love what I created a few years ago, my very own spicy-sour concoction – Baingan Blast. So here it is, to share with you all.

BAINGAN BLAST (Prep time 10 mins+30 mins, cooking time 15 mins)

* Eggplants, medium sized – 2 (I use round purple eggplants, simply because they are the only ones available here. No reason  to not use other colors and shapes if you’ve got them. In fact, let me know how they turn out)

* Cooking oil – 1.5 tbsps + 2 tsps Eggplants GUZZLE oil! But this is a lot less than what it would have been if I did not use my little trick…for that, you’ll have to read the recipe carefully  ; )

* Fresh ginger – 1 inch piece, finely chopped (optional)

* Concentrated tamarind paste – approx 2 tsps, diluted in 1 tbsp of water.  Substitute with 3 tsps of tomato paste if tamarind is unavailable – it tastes different from my original recipe, but it’s still good!

* Sugar – 1 tsp

* Sesame seeds – 1 tsp

* Red chili powder/peperoncino/cayenne pepper – a pinch (as large or small as you can handle! Entirely optional)

* Spice mix – panch phoran – 2 tsps. This is a spice mix very typical of Eastern India, and consists of 5 aromatic whole seeds mixed together. But if you do not have it, never fear. Use a mix of spices, a big pinch of as many as you have from  this list…coriander seeds, fenugreek seeds (methi dana), aniseed (saunf), cumin seeds, nigella (kalonji), mustard seeds

* Salt – a generous sprinkling

– Wash and cut up the eggplants into medium sized cubes (about 1 inch pieces). Observe the texure – it’s like a sponge! That’s why it drinks oil while it cooks.

– Put into a large colander, sprinkle with a generous amount of salt (about 2 tsps I would think) and leave to drain for at least 30 mins. Traditionally, this was done to remove any bitterness in eggplant. In the old days, before modern agriculture, some vegetables like eggplants, zucchinis and cucumbers used to pretty often turn out to be bitter, so salting was the antidote to that. I do it `just to be safe’, and also because salting removes some of the moisture, which will be an essential step in reducing the amount of oil that we used to cook the eggplant in.

– Rinse the eggplant and cover and microwave for about 4 mins, until slightly cooked. Microwaving ensures that it is already partly cooked before it goes into the pan, and therefore drinks less oil while it is in there.

– Pat dry and set aside.

– In a non-stick or iron pan (I would use one that is wide and flat) add 1 tbsp of oil. When hot, add the eggplant and cook on medium heat, turning frequently until it is nicely browned on all sides. Use the 1/2 tbsp of oil to drizzle on the eggplants as you cook them. This takes about 10-12 mins.

– Remove from the pan and set aside.

– In the same pan, add 2 tsps of oil. When hot, add the spices (except for the sesame seeds). When they pop, add the eggplant, chili powder, ginger, sugar and tamarind /tomato paste. I would not add salt at this point because we have already salted the eggplant – remember? Better less than more.

– Mix well, turn off the heat, cover, and leave it for about 10 mins or so to soak in the flavors. Then taste, adjust the flavoring, sprinkle with sesame seeds and serve lukewarm/hot with rice, or bread. It also makes for an interesting starter with crisp breads.

Enjoy the blast of flavor, and don’t forget to keep some leftovers in the fridge for a traveling spouse…trust me, (s)he’ll appreciate it.