Just desserts!

Vasundhara Chauhan

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Batter-fried prawn. Photo: R.M. Rajarathinam

GOURMET FILESIdeal sea food in Delhi? None still….

Back in the day, Dilliwalas had to travel as far as at least Bombay to eat seafood. There were fish and seafood shops, but seafood-specific restaurants were few: Sridharan’s in Gole Market, Babu Moshai etc. in Chitto Park — again freshwater.

Then came Fishermen’s Wharf, which unfortunately downed shutters before it got a chance; Swagath, which serves all manner of food, not necessarily from the sea; and Ploof! whose menu smartly included other food, but that too gave up the brave attempt in a few years and changed to a delicatessen.

In the meanwhile we’d all been to Mumbai’s Apurva, Mahesh Lunch Home, Trishna, Sindhu Durg, Ecellensea, Gajalee and many others, all memorable. And bemoaned our Capital Punishment: The lack of cheap fine dining, fresh seafood and coastal spices. Well, the sea was far away and the cold chain was suspect, so what could you do but hope for a trip to Mumbai soon. Then, recently, there was this buzz about Trishna opening here, in the shadow of the Qutub Minar, just as one enters Mehrauli and the enclave of Indian designer boutiques and fine restaurants like Azimuth and Olive.

Twice friends made plans to eat there and I resisted, successfully — without having been there, I was apprehensive. But last night I had to bow to democracy, confess to not having a real reason, and go, As Bunty said on the phone this morning when I reported on last night’s dinner, I coulda-toldya; sitting here in Nizamuddin, I coulda-toldya.

First, it was, after the trashy approach, very swish: Japanese pebble garden, frangipani tree, gazebos, “air-conditioning” and white table linen. Not like the original Mumbai branch, with its laminated table-tops and paper napkins, but even there they all have “family” sections with the same pretensions.

Starters

It was over 40°, so at first I thought the air-conditioner was having a difficult time, but I asked the maître de and he said that someone had switched off the unit inadvertently and he quickly fixed it. It was Saturday night, we were six, and only one other table was occupied. Later two more women came in. We ordered fried Koliwada prawns to start with, and Kim, the vegetarian among us, asked for a vegetable hot and sour soup. That immediately vindicated the vast menu. I had been telling myself to not be an inverted snob, to stop looking for simple, integrated menus, and here was proof of why Trishna had stretched itself to Chinese and Tandoori Paneer: After all, what is a vegetarian going to eat as a starter? Someone asked Kim how her soup was and she smiled inscrutably. I, not so well-bred, asked pointedly: “Hot water and vinegar?” She said, “Umm… with some sliced mushrooms.”

The prawns had been shrink-fried and were small, brown and crisp. The masala was standard, unremarkable. I had decided on my way there to eat fish we don’t get easily in Delhi. Crabs and lobsters are available for a price, pomfret is good but ho-hum, but rawas, bombil (Bombay duck) and ladyfish there is none. But even in Trishna, bombil and ladyfish there was none. I asked for my rawas to be shallow fried with a casing of rawa — to avoid confusion, I said “sooji”, “semolina”. No, they said, they didn’t do rawa-fried rawas or rawa-fried anything. But they recommended the Hyderabadi Rawas tikka enthusiastically. It came and was okay, like fish tikka made with any fresh fish, it could just as well have been sole. Coastal… I’m not so sure if they use tandoors in Malwadi or Koliwadi cooking.

I asked if they had any vegetables, so the waiter suggested matar-methi-malai. Yes, it was N.I (north Indian), and yes, they did have coastal vegetables, namely vegetable ghassi. Ghassi is a curry with specific flavours, but which were the vegetables they’d used in it? While the waiter pondered, I ventured cauliflower-potato-carrot and he nodded gratefully. There was no choice, so we had it. Thick brown gravy, which I suspect they cook by the cauldronful in the morning and feed to unsuspecting Northies all day. Not that our stomachs suffered, despite the fact that we also had the rawas ghassi. Same gravy, shredded fish. They had appams, but most of us had neer dosai, which were soft but a little bit too stretchy.

And we ordered dal “kolhapuri”, which could be identified as arhar, tuvar. To my mind, names like Kolhapuri mean nothing — it’s as illuminating as saying chicken “Punjabi” or roti “Uttar Pradeshi”. But the nomenclature would have been irrelevant had the food been good.

People who’ve been to the Mumbai Trishna rave about the Crab Butter Garlic, and religiously order it here. My own exposure to expensive seafood is limited, but I still have a view. Meat as sweet and delicate as crab should be left alone to speak for itself, without suffocating it in the thick, viscous purée of garlic and butter that has become so popular. Just boiled, with salt and pepper and a squeeze of lime is perfect; anything else is crass. But it sells — at many thousand rupees — so why shouldn’t they cook it ad nauseum? Yet the poor show-out made me wonder whether Trishna, in its attempt to cater to the Northie, has fallen between two stools. Because the food is neither good coastal nor would a card-carrying Dilliwala go there to eat butter chicken or chow mien. So who is it for?

YETTI GHASSI

Karnataka Prawn Curry

Serves 4

To be ground to a paste:

1 tbsp tamarind pulp

1/2 coconut grated

1 1/2 tsp turmeric powder

8 cloves garlic

8 red chillies, roasted

2 tbsp coriander seeds, roasted

1 tbsp peppercorn, roasted

1/2 tsp cumin seeds

1/4 tsp fenugreek seeds, roasted

1/2 onion, chopped.

2 tbsp coconut oil

1 onion, finely chopped

Salt

500 g shelled, headless, deveined prawns

Dilute spice paste to pouring consistency by adding 500 ml water. Pour coconut oil in a kadhai (wok) and sauté the chopped onion until brown. Add the spice paste and salt. When the mixture comes to a boil, lower heat and simmer for five minutes.

Add the prawns and cook on low heat till done, about five minutes.

Fry-up or not

Vasundhara Chauhan

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HUNKY OR MASHED?: Potatoes are the most versatile.

GOURMET FILES Enjoying oats or moong for breakfast ensures health, but hi-calorie indulgence is an option too.

It is actually the breaking of a fast — the gap between dinner and breakfast can go up to 12 hours. So usually I’m famished, and all I have to look forward to is fruit and some artery-cleansing health food like oats or sprouts. Even poha, unless of unpolished rice, or sabudana, are low residue and useless. Unfortunately my household doesn’t run to fresh idli or roti at the crack of dawn, so that leaves me with rabbit food and, on a lucky day, kala chana.

Poached eggs

But while I get ablutions out of the way, there’s no tax or raised triglyceride count on dreaming, so I think about puffy, golden three-egg cheese omelettes made in butter; poached eggs steamed in my parents’ special pan, which prevents the eggs from touching the water, but encourages you to add butter to the little steel egg-cups; and my “world best” favourite, two fried eggs, sunny side up, served serially and not together.

Sometimes the fantasy has variations. Bacon on the side, four rashers with melting fat and a chewy rind (where has that gone? No brand I’ve bought in the last 20 years has rind. Is it some kind of reconstituted?), fried so that it isn’t all crisp and crumbly. Or fat English breakfast pork sausages, bursting out of their casing and sizzling and sputtering even as they reach the table. Grilled half tomatoes, home-made baked beans, mushrooms and onions are optional add-ons and not integral to the vision, because those we’re allowed to eat anyway.

Inviting aroma

What happens while I’m dreaming on is that I smell another breakfast being cooked. Parathas. The cook likes them, so before I get to my virtuous, multi-coloured breakfast of kiwi fruit, watermelon, mango and papaya, or apples, pears and oranges, I’m forced to endure the aroma of atta being fried and to imagine it turning golden brown as it crisps. When he’s short of time he fries bread — but he’s healthy, so it’s multi-grain — in a wide puddle of oil and butter. The good part of that is that it smells wonderful — I’ve forgotten the pleasure of its taste — but the downside is the thick patina of annealed grease on the tawa, to remove which it takes a chisel and a harangue from this tetchy, deprived, fruit-eating old bat. Part of the sharpness comes from sheer deprivation because parathas are another favourite high on the disapproved-of list, but of those, another time.

So though the savoury component of breakfast is usually oats or a whole lentil, I’ve learnt to like the moong option. Dressed properly, it’s quite delicious. But once in a blue moon, there’s nothing like a fry-up.

FRITTATA

Serves 4

1 tbsp vegetable oil

1 potato, chopped small

8 eggs

Salt

Pepper

1 red bell pepper, chopped fine

2 tbsp butter

Heat oil and butter in a large heavy bottomed frying pan with heatproof handle. Lower heat and sauté potatoes. Meanwhile beat eggs till light and fluffy. Whisk in a teaspoon of water (to prevent a burnt or “eggy” smell), salt and pepper. Stir in the chopped bell pepper. Add butter to cooked potatoes and pour in the egg mixture. Cook over medium heat till bottom is set. Cover and continue till cooked through and bottom is slightly browned. If the centre is still soft, grill under medium heat, for about five minutes.

HASH BROWNED POTATOES

Serves 4

4-6 medium potatoes

Salt

Pepper

1/2 tsp red chilli flakes (optional)

Green stems of four spring onions

1 tbsp vegetable oil

Boil potatoes, making sure they are barely cooked, not soft. Grate coarsely and add salt and pepper. Chop spring onion greens into narrow one inch strips and mix with potatoes. Heat oil in cast iron skillet. Shape potato mixture into loose balls — do not compress tightly. Flatten and lower gently on to hot skillet. When the bottom browns slightly, turn over with metal spatula and cook other side. Serve hot when both sides are golden brown.

GREEN MOONG SABUT

Serves 2

1/2 cup sabut moong (mung bean, green gram)

Salt

1/4 tsp haldi (turmeric), optional

1/2 tsp oil

1/2 tsp sarson, mustard seeds

10-12 leaves curry patta

2 green chillies, seeded and cut into 1/2 inch diagonals

Juice of 1 lime

1 tsp sugar syrup (optional)

2 tsp grated coconut

Wash and soak moong sabut overnight in a large pan of water. In the morning, drain, rinse and boil. In a pan, add 1 cup water, salt and haldi. Boil till done, taking care to not let it get mushy. If water remains, drain out and discard. In a small frying pan, heat oil and sauté mustard till it splutters. Add curry leaves and turn off heat. Stir in green chillies. Add contents of pan to boiled moong and stir to combine. Cool dal mixture and mix in lime juice, sugar and grated coconut. Chill in refrigerator and serve.

GRILLED MUSHROOMS WRAPPED IN BACON

Serves 4

12 large mushrooms

12 rashers bacon

Wash and wipe mushrooms, retaining stems. Slice off any blackened bits. Wind one rasher of bacon around each mushroom, securing with a toothpick. Heat heavy bottomed pan. Do not add oil or salt. Place mushrooms-wrapped-in-bacon carefully in pan, in a single layer. Heat till bacon changes colour where it is touching the pan. Using tongs, turn each parcel so that uncooked sides come into contact with hot pan. Press down with tongs or metal spatula to ensure cooking and browning. When all sides are looking cooked and brown, remove to drain on absorbent kitchen paper towel. Serve hot.

Keywords: healthy food, breakfast, oats, moong, recipes

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Toast

Vasundhara Chauhan

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Dry or buttered, decorated with a topping or grilled, a slice of bread can inspire.

Beans on toast, eggs on toast, tea and toast… “Toast, as everyone in Britain knows, is made by placing a slice of bread in front of dry heat… until the surface browns and gives off an attractive smell.” (Alan Davidson, The Oxford Companion to Food.) We don’t need definitions because, like “everyone in Britain”, we know what toast is.

It is a standard part of a proper English breakfast — whichever continent it is eaten on — and “the true toast addict is fussy about its preparation, choosing day-old baker’s bread to make it, and insisting it is eaten as soon as ready, for good toast must be consumed whilst hot. It is the smell of toast, and the sensations of the hot crunchy outside of the bread combined with the soft inner crumb and melted butter, that makes it so appealing. Left to go cold, it becomes leathery and loses its aroma.” (Ibid) In effect, “it’s toast”. Because to be toast means to be (or be likely to become) finished, defunct, or dead. As in “one mistake and you’re toast” or “if my boss hears of this, I’m toast”.

Over the centuries, England has seen toast, then called “tost” being eaten as a sop (a piece of bread, preferably toasted, used to mop up soup or other liquids), until now, when toast-with-a-topping is routine. In the 16th century, meat toppings became popular; sometimes sweetened, as in kidneys, eggs, sugar and flavourings; and sometimes savoury. Towards the end of that century, toppings we now consider the norm became common: Poached eggs, buttered (or scrambled) eggs, ham or bacon, melted cheese. All of these are associated with toast, as are beans, sardines and marmalade. But in India, we have made it our own; we have more: Bombay toast, Bombay toast sandwich, and rusks, differentiated as “cake” rusk and “toss” rusk” where “toss” presumably means toast, and is harder and less sweet than the “cake” type.

Tossed!

Bombay — or should we now call it Mumbai — toast is a version of French toast, and a Bombay toast sandwich is what in some Delhi circles is called a “patty”: A toasted sandwich. Anita the cruel once affected innocence and asked a colleague, eyes opened wide in awe, how she had had the time to make flaky pastry before reporting to work at the crack of dawn. Because that poor ignoramus had said that she’s made “patties” for the family’s breakfast. Of course Anita knew what she’d meant: Some vegetable leftovers (or mashed and spiced potatoes) sandwiched in sliced white bread, buttered and toasted (or grilled) in that wonderful tongs-like appliance, a “tasty toast” maker.

French Toast, pain perdu, literally, “lost bread” is a dessert and consists of slices of stale bread soaked in milk, dipped in eggs beaten with sugar, then lightly fried in butter. It is served hot and crisp. According to the Larousse Gastronomique it was originally intended to use up crusty and leftover pieces of bread, and today is made with brioche or milk bread and served with custard cream, jam or compote. In France it was formerly called pain crotté, pain à la romaine, or croûtes dorées.

In India it is often served for breakfast, only sometimes sweet. Savoury, it is made with salt instead of sugar, finely chopped onions, green chillies and fresh coriander.

FRENCH TOAST

Serves 4

2 cups milk

Half vanilla pod or 1/2 tsp vanilla essence

1/2 cup sugar

250g stale brioche (or milk bread), cut into thick slices

2 eggs, beaten well

2-3 tsp caster sugar

1/2 cup butter

Boil milk with vanilla and sugar. Leave to cool. Soak cut bread in cooled milk, only long enough to wet thoroughly without falling apart. Stir a spoon of sugar into beaten egg. In a heavy-bottomed skillet, heat butter. Meanwhile dip bread in egg-sugar mixture, then fry in hot butter. When golden on one side, turn over gently and fry other side till cooked, crisp and golden. Arrange bread slices in a round dish, dust over with remaining caster sugar, and serve hot with cream, cream custard, jam or stewed fruit.

CROQUE-MONSIEUR

Serves 2

This toast dish combines all the usual toppings, and is very similar to Welsh rarebit (or rabbit) but with added ham.

2 tbsp butter

2 tbsp all-purpose flour

1 cup whole milk

Pinch of ground nutmeg

1 bay leaf

4 slices firm white sandwich bread

4 thin slices Black Forest ham

150 g sliced Gruyère cheese

1 tbsp melted butter

1/4 cup grated Gruyère cheese

2 teaspoons chopped fresh chives

Melt two tbsp butter in small saucepan over medium heat. Add flour and stir one minute. Gradually whisk in milk. Add nutmeg and bay leaf. Increase heat to medium-high and boil until sauce thickens, whisking constantly, about two minutes.

Season with salt and pepper and keep aside. Preheat grill. Place two bread slices on work surface. Top each with half of ham and sliced Gruyère. Top with remaining bread. Heat heavy large skillet over low heat. Brush sandwiches with one tbsp melted butter. Add to skillet and cook until deep golden brown, about two minutes per side. Transfer to small metal baking sheet. Spoon sauce, then grated cheese over sandwiches. Grill until cheese begins to brown, about two minutes.

(Processed cheese is not a great substitute, but does when you’re strapped.

A variation is the croque-madame (or, in Normandy, a croque-cheval), with a fried egg on top.)

Keywords: toast recipes, french toast, croque-monsieur recipe, english breakfast

All that glitters is saffron

Published: Sunday, Aug 26, 2012, 10:00 IST By Geetanjali Jhala | Place: Mumbai | Agency: DNA

Laban ke Kofte DNA  « Back Next »  Few foods have the kind of effect saffron does:Even before the first bite of a saffron-infused preparation, there’s a synchronised assault on your visual and olfactory senses. Seated comfortably at Soma, the Indian restaurant at Mumbai’s Grand Hyatt hotel, as the waiter opens a pot of steaming saffron-infused biryani, a private battle rages in my mind — should I heed the years of conditioning, or give in to my baser instincts and devour the food in front of me? One tentative bite of the golden yellow rice preparation, and my mind is made up. I will savour this meal. Saffron is, after all, as precious as gold. “Saffron, or kesar, is the most expensive of all spices,” says Pushpendru Sen, chef de cuisine at the Grand Hyatt, as he brings in the first course during the saffron festival at Soma. We start with a paneer ka sheekh, murgh zafrani kebab and macchi tukda. Saffron flavouring works well with the milder paneer and chicken, lending them a rich yellow colour and a distinctive sweet flavour. The taste of fish, on the other hand, overpowers the saffron. “To be able to bring out the saffron, the fish is marinated thrice. It is first washed with saffron, then marinated with it, and finally, before the fish is put into the tandoor, it has to be brushed with saffron again,” says Sen. That’s a rich meal if you ever had one. In India, saffron grows only in Kashmir, and therefore sells at a very high price. It is allegedly a more lucrative commodity for smugglers than gold because it is more difficult to detect. Only a few cultures have adopted saffron into their cuisines. North-Indian, Iranian and Spanish cooking involves the use of saffron. Incidentally, these are also the largest saffron producing countries in the world. The menu — dishes from the northwestern frontier — has been chosen to highlight the versatility and unique flavour of saffron. Sen says he learnt to cook most of the dishes during his stint as a chef at a hotel in Kashmir. “Saffron is used in almost every dish in Kashmiri cuisines — in the rich and spicy dishes the Muslims make, as well as vegetarian food of the Hindus,” he says. “It is used more sparingly in the Mughal-inspired Avadhi cuisine, and even the way that saffron is used is different,” he adds. In Kashmiri preparations, the meat is cooked along with saffron. “For example, aab gosht, boneless mutton in an onion gravy, is cooked in saffron water. In Avadhi dishes, on the other hand, saffron is added after the dish is cooked, mostly for the colour it lends the gravy,” says Sen. Besides its colour, Saffron’s distinctive flavour gels well with the flavour of meat. Instead of adding saffron only as a garnish, when it is cooked with mutton, it enhances the flavour of the meat. However, cooking with saffron requires constant monitoring. “It has to be cooked at the right temperature, and for the right amount of time. If overcooked, the saffron won’t give off its flavour. Slow cooking on low heat is the best way to bring out saffron’s flavour,” he adds. The Spanish use saffron in some preparations of paella, but usually only as a garnish. Sen says he is inspired by the way Kashmiris cook food. “Take gustava for instance. The chef personally chooses the goat and watches it get butchered, making sure it’s done right so the muscles don’t go rigid. There’s a kitchen help whose only job is to pound and tenderise the meat for 6-8 hours. This kind of dedication is something I haven’t seen in any kitchen outside of Kashmir. I’d have liked to include gustava in the menu here, but to make sure it tastes authentic, I’d need the right kind of meat cooked at the correct temperature.” Instead, he chose to make aab gosht. There’s a rogan josh on the menu too, but aab gosht requires fewer spices, so the flavour of both the meat and the saffron stand out. “In rogan josh, with all the other spices that go into the recipe, the flavour of saffron is much milder,” says Sen. The aab gosht arrives, along with a handi of chicken biryani. The food is only lightly flavoured, and the natural flavours of the meat stand out. The highlight of the meal is undoubtedly the laban ke kofte, curd croquettes stuffed with figs. The sourness of the curd is offset with the sweet figs, and the ingredients blend well with a saffron-infused gravy. That’s the thing about saffron: It could be a garnish for a dish or it could be the ingredient that holds the other ingredients together. And while it’s not an absolutely necessary ingredient, once you’ve had biryani, or meat, or even fig koftas cooked in saffron, no other version of these preparations will ever taste the same. As a substitute for saffron, cinnamon comes close, and can be used in most dishes, sweet or savoury. We end this rather royal meal with a warm kheer. Saffron has a sort of natural affinity with desserts. It lends the otherwise bland-looking kheer a rich, pale yellow colour, and even just two pieces of the thread-like spice breaks the visual monotony of the dessert. The real clincher, however, is the taste. Just two strips of saffron can instantly transform a dessert, thus changing the way you experience food. Laban Ke Kofte Ingredients Filling: Hung Curd 200 gms Chopped Fig 20 ml Chopped ginger 5 gm Corn flour 20 gm Gravy: Cashew paste 100 gm Butter 25 gm Cream 15 gm Salt Cardamom powder 2 gm Mawa 10 gm Ginger garlic paste 10 gm Garnish: Saffron 5 gm Cream 100 gmslAlmond flakes 50 gms Method Stuff the hung curd with figs and chopped ginger Shape it like a barrel and roll it in corn flour Heat oil and deep fry till rich in colour Make the gravy nice and smooth and dip the rolls in it. Adjust seasoning accordingly lGarnish with fresh cream, almond flakes and saffron. Aab Gosht Ingredients Lamb (boneless) 250 gm Ginger garlic paste 15 gm Lamb (stock) 1000 ml Aniseed 100 gmlGarlic 25 gm Ginger powder 15 gm Cream 15 mllGhee 100 ml Clove 3 gmlSalt Cardamom green (Whole) Cinnamon 5 gmlBlack pepper corn 10 gm Milk 1,500 ml Saffron 2 gm Method Boil the lamb in water with the aniseed powder, garlic, ginger powder and salt till it is tender lRemove the lamb and keep aside. Strain the stock in another pan and keep aside lBoil the milk with green cardamom, cinnamon, clove and whole black pepper in a separate pan lSimmer till the milk is reduced to half. Stir well. Add the lamb and the stock lStir well and bring the mixture to the boil. Continue to boil for 5 minutes and then reduce the heat to low lSimmer for another 10 minutes. Add saffron. Finish with cream.