Sunday, March 24, 2013

'Our Bombay sandwich is a big hit'



Juhu Beach in California? Yes, you heard us right. Celebrity chef Preeti Mistry has just launched the full-service Juhu Beach Club restaurant in the port city of Oakland, which serves everything from Vada Pav and Gujarati samosas to Vindaloo Chicken Wings and even Limca! The UK-born chef, now settled in the US, talks to Dhiman Chattopadhyay about her memories of Juhu Beach and how Americans and NRIs love her Bombay Sandwich with sassy lassi

March 24, 2013

Mumbai
Dhiman Chattopadhyay

One knows Indian cuisine is popular pretty much everywhere, but Mumbai street food? And that too in California? Wow! How did this come about?
I love street foods and have always been fascinated with all the snacky items you find on the streets in India and in snack and sweet shops. So I was drawn to creating my own version of these items. I have been a chef in California for almost 10 years and so, I figured that applying my professional experience to the Mumbai street foods I love and crave so much, would be a fun project where I could add my own imprint on the iconic dishes.

Preeti Mistry started Juhu Beach Club as a pop-up restaurant in front of a liquor store with a small deli in 2011. Now she has opened a full-service restaurant with table service, beer and wine and an exhaustive menu. Pics courtesy/ Preeti Mistry
You left a steady job to start a pop-up restaurant. What triggered that?
I always wanted to do something on my own. In 2011, I realised that I was ready to do something different from running large kitchens for Google, where I was an executive chef (and before that at the deYoung Museum). I was craving to do something more personal. I had just come back from visiting Mumbai with my partner and parents and I was really inspired by all the amazing and varied street food in Mumbai. The pop-up started in 2011 with very humble beginnings in the front of a liquor store that had a small deli. Two years down the line, we have just opened a full-service restaurant with table service, beer and wine and a full menu.

The Vindaloo Chicken Wings is one of the bestsellers at Preeti Mistry’s Juhu Beach Club restaurant 
Why did you name it Juhu Beach Club?
I remember Juhu Beach from visiting India for the first time when I was four years old. Of course my fondest memories from that time is about kites more than food. But when I went back as an adult, I was intrigued by the place, the sunsets, the food…everything.
Is your clientele largely NRIs or pretty much every community?
The famous Mumbai Vada Pav is one of our most popular pav, second only to the beef pav! That gives you an idea of the global nature of my clientele. People in the SF Bay Area are very open to new foods and enjoy everything we make. There is a great deal of interest on our Facebook and Twitter pages every time I announce a new dish. People from different communities and ethnicities come to Juhu Beach Club to eat.
You have managed kitchens and been on celebrity chef shows. But running a business is different. Was it tough to set up shop?
Well, I had a lot of help from my partner to set things up, but I really did the pop-up with just me, a cashier and a dishwasher! Since then, there have been a ton of people involved in supporting us in getting the restaurant open. Now I have a great team in the back and the front of the restaurant to make it happen.
So what do people ask for most with their beer or wine?
The Vada Pav, Vindaloo Chicken Wings, the Gujarati Samosas, which I make by hand and the Shrimp Curry are all best-sellers. Our Bombay sandwich is a big hit too. When people tasted it first, they were delighted. Most said they didn’t know what they were nibbling, but it tasted great. We put the cilantro chutney, the sliced beets and pickled onions into the Bombay sandwich. It’s grilled and served much like we had at Juhu Beach when I visited India.
I believe you serve wine and beer too. Imagine Mumbai’s street food stalls serving chilled wine!
All of our wine is on tap. But given the weather and the spicy nature of Indian food, people prefer beer. But that’s not all. I make a sassy lassi in-house, and it’s sweet and salty. We also have lemonade and the Darjeeling Limited, which is half cilantro lemonade and half tea. Of course there is hot chai. And believe it or not we will also be serving Thums Up and Limca imported from India! Very like Mumbai.
The first of the Juhu Beach Club restaurants is open at Oakland. Any expansion plans?
We are just focussing on this restaurant and making it great for now. No big plans beyond that at this stage.

Tuesday, March 12, 2013

Diet secrets of the stars are ‘bogus’

Celebrities have claimed that everything from green tea to acupuncture has helped them lose weight, but the secrets of the stars are all “bogus”, the “Quackbuster” has found.

Gwyneth Paltrow has recommended the slimming benefits of acupuncture 
While Sophie Dahl claims green tea helped her drop her dress size, Gwyneth Paltrow raved about the slimming benefits of acupuncture and Simon Cowell praised the value of natural diet pills.
But after spending several years looking into the alternative treatments Edzard Ernst, professor of complementary medicine at the University of Exeter, has said that he has not found a single one he would recommend.
He said that people by into alternative slimming aids despite the “overwhelming evidence” that they do not work.
“They are also misled to assume they are risks-free. This latter assumption is false too: apart from the harm done to the patient’s bank account, many alternative slimming aids are associated with side-effects which, in some cases, are serious and can even include death,” he said.
Those desperate to loose weight will try anything, but Professor Ernst has found that alternative diet remedies — such as green tea capsules, herbal supplements and acupuncture — are all "bogus".
Natural weight-loss remedies may have a more wholesome image than slimming pills, but some still have adverse side-effects, such as headaches, insomnia and stomach upsets.
The can also interfere with prescribed drugs, according to The Times.
Professor Ernst, nicknamed "the Quackbuster" for his attempts to expose alternative remedies which do not work, believes that the £1 billion-plus industry in alternative medicines is preying on the desperation of consumers who become “easy victims”.
Alternative slimming aids have proven popular with celebrities. Kylie Minogue and Robbie Williams are also green tea believers and Madonna, Jennifer Lopez and Elle Macpherson have all praised acupuncture.
The study, published this week in the Journal of Dietary Supplements, looked at evidence from three clinical trials into supplements containing African bush mango (Irvingia gabonensis), which is named as an active ingredient in a variety of herbal diet pills.
The team found that all the trials had major flaws, and the results could not be relied upon as there was either not enough data or weight reductions was too small to be clinically significant.
Professor Ernst has campaigned for alternative therapies, such as homeopathy, to be withdrawn from the NHS.
He has also criticised the Prince of Wales for putting his name to a detox treatment in his Duchy Originals brand.
Professor Ernst recommends that those wishing to loose weight eat less and do more exercise.

Sunday, February 24, 2013


What breakfast. Whoa!


Breakfast, it is universally agreed, is the most important meal of the day. We eat breakfast after a lag of almost ten hours since dinner the previous night and it is important we have a sumptuous meal at the start of the day. A good breakfast inevitably makes you feel good first thing in the morning and without a proper breakfast I usually have ended up eating much more for lunch than I'd have liked.

In the West, breakfast is standard. Cornflakes, fruits, yogurt, eggs to order, bacon, sausage, toast with butter or jam and tea or coffee. Most cafes in the world will serve this breakfast day in day out month after month. Occasionally a doughnut or a croissant may be introduced as variation. Having eaten this breakfast for months on end, in fact years while living abroad, it was only natural that I'd start craving for the variations I'd be given at home in Kolkata. Rather, the varieties that Kolkata offer at minimal cost makes it the best breakfast city in the world. From the well known breakfast at Flurys, a rare treat on a Sunday, to the street side telebhajar dokan in North Kolkata with its fresh early morning fare, the varieties in Kolkata are endless.

A typical North Kolkata breakfast on a Sunday for example can very well consist of a hot singara and a couple of kachoris. A piping hot singara with tamarind chutney with a jilipi to round it off - things couldn't get any better. Having two kachoris and a singara on the way to the bazaar in the morning is a typical North Kolkata ritual that is still observed today. Every narrow by-lane in North Kolkata has a street side telebhajar dokan, all with their loyal band of customers. It is this chance to stop at the telebhajar dokan while going to the bazaar every morning that helps counter the monotony. Some of these street side stalls experiment with the morning fare and the phulkopir singara or the dal vada, made once in a while, are in high demand. Winter inevitably brings the natun aloor tarkari to go with the kachori and it is a challenge to stop at two kachoris during these months. Readers who are fans of the Bengali sleuth Byomkesh Bakshi will know what having a phulkopir singara with muri can do to liven up an off-colour morning.

Watching the singara being made in the morning at one of the many street side stalls is sheer bliss. First the dough has to be made correctly to ensure the crust isn't hard. Then the singaras are given shape with the potato stuffing and then twenty or more singaras are released into the boiling hot oil. Again, traditional Kolkatans will tell you that the stuffing shouldn't be made with smashed potatoes. While commercial considerations force such shortcuts, real singaras are made with choto kore kata aloo and is a 19th century tradition. Just when the singaras are perfectly browned, not too much because there's always a chance they will get burnt, they are all scooped up to serve the many hungry customers waiting patiently for their turns.

Nowhere else in the world do you get this variety. For example, in some North Kolkata households the day starts with phulko luchi and tarkari. And each of the luchis would have to be adequately fluffy - flat luchis mean the person making them has failed to deliver. Hot luchis just out of the frying pan with smoke coming out every time you pierce the crust and tarkari, spiced with dried red chillies and fresh coriander leaves means the day starts with a spark! And the luchis, which are made in real numbers, keep coming to ensure plates are never empty. Luchis also change colour on occasions. From the maidar luchi to attar luchi, certain varieties of luchi are made to suit certain types of tarkari. Finally, the tarkari too changes each morning. From simple aloor tarkari to aloo tomator tarkari to aloor beguner tarkari to chola diye kumror chakka to ghugni, breakfast is often the highlight of the day in most North Kolkata Bengali families.

More than most things it is the local food that one misses when staying away from home. Things that we take for granted, a telebhaja for example has a ubiquitous presence in Kolkata, is one of the most missed food items when living away from the city. Packaged singaras sold in the supermarkets like Sainsburys hardly whet the appetite and people just tend to hog at the local delicacies when they make it back to the city again.

It is time now for my piping hot morning singara.

Thursday, January 31, 2013


It's not only what you eat but also when you eat

MUMBAI: The timing of your meals is just as important as what you eat, says a research done jointly by Brigham and Women's Hospitalin the US and University of Murcia in Spain.
Their study, published in the latest issue of the International Journal of Obesity, showed that late-eaters lost significantly less weight than early-eaters, and displayed a much slower rate of weight-loss. Worse, people who ate late also had a lower estimated insulin sensitivity, which is a risk factor for diabetes.
To evaluate the role of food timing in weight-loss effectiveness, the researchers studied 420 overweight participants who followed a 20-week weight-loss treatment program in Spain. The participants were divided into two groups: early-eaters and late-eaters. Early-eaters ate lunch anytime before 3 pm and late-eaters, after 3 pm. They found that late-eaters lost significantly less weight than early-eaters, and displayed a much slower rate of weight-loss.
"This study emphasizes that the timing of food intake itself may play a significant role in weight regulation"" said co-author Marta Garaulet from the University of Murcia. "Novel therapeutic strategies should incorporate not only the caloric intake and macronutrient distribution, as it is classically done, but also the timing of food."

Monday, January 21, 2013

In search of Kovilpatti Kadalai mittai

Olympia Shilpa Gerald
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  • Photo: N. Rajesh
    Photo: N. Rajesh
  • Photo: N. Rajesh
    Photo: N. Rajesh
  • Photo: N. Rajesh
    Photo: N. Rajesh
  • Photo: N. Rajesh
    Photo: N. Rajesh
  • The Hindu
In a land of homemade sweets and savouries, Olympia Shilpa Gerald discovers the magic of a chunk of peanuts held together by glistening syrup.
Wiping down the foggy car windows, I see men with decidedly drab umbrellas wading through the waterlogged road. The sky is a bulging grey, a cold wind creeps in and there is something phantasmical about a solitary car zipping through the roads when visibility is near zero. It is the highest rainfall recorded in years, the cab driver informs me. Adding to the effect are pyramids, bleached a blinding white, sprouting on the wayside. They turn out to be the salt pans that Thoothukudi district in Tamil Nadu is renowned for.
The rain is receding as we speed towards Kovilpatti, a major town in the southern district. Though not many miles away, there is only heat and dust as we turn into Market Road, with its multi-coloured sweets, inflated plastic toys and knick-knacks. Kovilpatti, a hub for matchsticks, has another export that is often suffixed to its name — the kadalai mittai. Unlike Thoothukudi, whose macaroon has an air of exclusivity about it, this town’s chief boast is humble fare, one that every non-descript streetside shop in Tamil Nadu stocks in old-fashioned beaker-like bottles.
As I walk up to K.S. Kadalaimittai, I’m stunned at the rows of sweets and savouries in the shop. Kovilpatti and its neighbouring towns are candy paradise and most shops sell eatables in shapes, sizes and colours I’ve not seen before. As I point excitedly at dark brown spiral candy, bright yellow wavy sev, Kathiswaran ticks off names — Ellu mittai, cocoa mittai, cheeni mittai, karupatti mittai and yeni padi mittai .
The makers of the kadalai mittai here are taking a lunch break and I cross the road to V.V. Ramachandran (V.V.R.) Kadalaimittai. And there they are — freshly made little chunks of peanuts held together by glistening syrup, topped with wisps of grated coconut dyed pink, green and yellow.
“It was through word of mouth that Kovilpatti’s kadalai mittai became famous, and the bus services added to the popularity,” says Selavaraj, co-proprietor of the shop that has been around for 40 years. His partner Ramachandran says, “Kadalai mittai is made all over the State, but in Kovilpatti, the best ingredients go into making it. That is how the practice of buying the candy in kilos rather than slabs became common here.” The kadalai mittai usually takes the form of a slab of squares wedged together. In Kovilpatti, it is found as single rectangular chunks, or rather cuboids, sealed in packets. I nibble at the candy and the flavour of peanuts and slightly intoxicating syrup make a heady combo. The best part is not only that it’s cheap (you can get a slab for Rs.9 and a kilo for Rs.64), but you can gorge on the candy without reaching that tipping point that happens with most sweets.
When I coax him to spill more secrets, Ramachandran says, “Apart from the quality of ingredients, it has to do with the jaggery — we melt two or three types of jaggery to get the syrup.”
Nagajothi at MNR Sakthi Ganesh, which has a 60-year-old history, shows us the special jaggery — “Theni vellam”, named after a town in south-west Tamil Nadu. This is not the brown, hardened, round lump of jaggery. Theni vellam is a pale, soft triangular block of jaggery, freshly made. The groundnuts are sourced from the nearby town of Aruppukottai. The groundnuts are shelled, and then roasted in a machine.
But the essence of getting this South-Indian equivalent of chikki right, lies in the consistency of the jaggery syrup, says Gokul Ram. He leads us to the recesses of M.N.S. Anjaneyar Vilas that has an image of an air-borne Hanuman bearing a tray of kadalai mittai. While the shop front has mounds of yellow, orange and red sev twisted into coils and ribbons, the kitchen is blackened with soot and is searing with the heat from stoves fed with wood chips (leftovers from the match factories).
A stocky, bare-bodied Kannan is bent over a massive cauldron where the special and ordinary jaggery are melted in boiling water. As the paagu or syrup thickens, a mind-numbing aroma fills the room. Once Kannan decides the syrup is ready, he adds glucose water. Ayyakannu, his mate, empties the roasted and crushed groundnuts into the syrup, sprinkling a little vanilla essence. Finding each other, the ingredients send out a giddy scent —warm and overpowering.
When the syrup bubbles up turning a golden brown, the preparation takes on an alchemical turn. Ayyakannu may have no education to speak of, but he evidently has mastery over some strange principle of physics. With accurately timed, swift clockwise and anticlockwise moves of his ladle, he ensures the bubbles dissipate and a lump of peanuts embedded in hardened syrup emerges. Folding it like a pillow, Ayyakannu plunks it on a board. With a rolling pin, he proceeds to flatten it into a nutty bed. Rolling over a measuring plank and knife, he makes surgical strokes till hundreds of lines crisscross the mittai. Finally, with a sweep of his hand, he breaks up the chunks that fall apart like the pieces of a finished puzzle. I am a little alarmed at the rapid strokes with the knife that are just half-inch apart. “I did have bleeding fingers in the first few months when I started, but I have been doing this for 50 years now,” he smiles.
Who made kadalai mittai synonymous with this town? Sakthivel at MNR, says: “Our father and the experts who serve them today learnt the tricks from Ponnambala Nadar. He is no more and his family diversified into other trades.”
Though none of the stores could volunteer much information, Vaithialingam, an 85-year-old wholesale dealer in the town, says, “Ponnambala Nadar had a grocery store in the Bazaar area around 1940. Five years later, he decided to use the excess peanuts in his store to make kadalai mittai. He was quality conscious and made a name.” Though no more, Ponnambalam’s kadalai mittai, the first to be branded in the town, is remembered by old-timers. He called it “Baby” after his daughter.
HOW IT’S MADE
Ingredients
Peanuts 1 kg
Jaggery 1/2 kg
Theni jaggery 1/2 kg
Glucose powder, vanilla essence or cardamom powder: a dash
Method
Roast groundnuts. In a vat, heat water. Melt both types of jaggery. Keep stirring till the syrup reaches a fine consistency. Empty groundnuts, add glucose water, vanilla essence or cardamom powder and stir repeatedly. Let the syrup bubble over; stoke the vat till peanuts are embedded in jaggery. On a board, flatten the lump with a rolling pin. Make crisscross cuts with a knife. Break up the pieces. Store and eat.

Sunday, January 6, 2013


Nations boil over origins of potato fries — but food fights waste table time


What's in a name, mused Shakespeare? When it's a food name, apparently a lot. French and Belgian historians recently spat hot oil over whether the potato finger is actually the Belgian frite or the French fry. At a Belgian meeting without waffles, the potato finger was disputed as originating from the Belgian Meuse River in the 17th century versus Paris's Pont Neuf after the French Revolution. The eurozoners aren't arguing this Life of Fry alone. The British have chipped in too, claiming the fry is actually a chip off the British block, potatoes swimming in deep oils in 17th century English fish shops. Does the tiny fry merit such big-mouthing? Well, the USA believes so too, huffily claiming the chip as its Freedom Fries, rejecting haute-y French cuisine when France and America crossed forks over invading Iraq.
But Shakespeare was right and a roast by any name tastes just as good. Microwaving the origins of food simply distracts from pure taste. If you worry about just whose Balti the big-hit South Asian cooking came from, you might lose yourself on a never-ending spice route. Similarly, for folk wondering whether hotdogs from Frankfurt should correctly be called Frankfurters - why whine over wieners? Their roots are a handful but their contents make a mouthful too. Just like our desi Chinese, so spicy no real Mandarin could mouth much Indian Manchow! We wantonly call our wontons Punjabi Chinese, bringing dragons to dhabas in most unlikely menus, sorry, manners. But who cares about proper names or right roots when there's food about? The only delicacy necessary for khana are your table manners. Burp.


Tastes like home made, sold in retail


There are very few Nagpurians who would not know Panditanche Vividh Vastu Bhandar in Modi 3 in Sitabuldi. The shop is popular for its typical Maharashtrian sweet and savoury snacks and a must visit for Maharashtrians and nowadays even those from other communities during festivals and weddings.

"This shop was established in 1964 by my father. In those days items like chakli, chiwda, karanjia were essentially made at home and nobody would even dream of buying these from the market," says Shirish Pandit, the owner of the shop.

The senior Pandit was inspired by the popularity of idli, dosa and wada which was consumed in big numbers by south Indians as well as others in various eateries in the city. "My mother used to make some Maharashtrian snack preparations very well and so my father began to market these during Ganesh festival and Diwali," he says.

Initially, these items were made to order but 1977 onwards they were made and sold on a daily basis. Today, the shop is especially known for its sweet items prepared from coconut. "Ola nariyal varieties do not have much of a shelf life and so no other shop prepares karnajia, laddu or barfi made from it," says Pandit.

Now the shop also sees a big rush during Christmas. "They are also serving these local delicacies to their guests so Christians too come here and buy from us."

"The scale has become a bit larger as we now use industrial mixers and other machinery which has been customized for our use," says Pandit and informs that his shop uses at least 600kg of sesame seeds during the Sankranti season.

"During Diwali we make up to 15,000 karanji, 600kg chakli and 400kg laddoos," he says. But what limits the production is that these are items which are made by hand piece wise. "We can't put dough in a machine and get karanjis out of it. It requires to be rolled and filled by hand and this restricts the number that can be made in a day," says Pandit and adds that now he is trying to get a mechanized sheeter which will roll the dough in long sheets from which circles will be cut to make this delicious sweet. "We have got machines to dry roast sesame seeds and also the flour for making laddoos. This has enhanced our production."

What keeps the items moving from the shelf is the rising popularity of traditional sweets and the growing significance of our culture and traditions among the youth, feels Pandit. "People carry our items even abroad," he says and adds this is what has propelled them to manufacture some typically Maharashtrian spices too. "Our dry mixes or upwas chi bhajani are very popular and so is the black garam masala."

Competition is tough and large scale production is difficult to execute for these items, says Shirish Pandit and adds "We use commercial cylinders which are very costly and so far are employing just six women to help us with the work. But increasing costs of raw ingredients is affecting us as we don't have volumes and can't execute big orders." Along with the mouth-watering goodies, Pandit also sells from his small jewellery store items which are must at a Maharasthrian wedding or any other celebration. "Gauri haar, moti nariyal, saptapadi and mundawari are all available with us," he says.

Just down the road from this shop is the 86-year-old grocery store Bapat Bandhu, a favourite with many Maharashtrian homes who still want their raw ingredients to be typically their own. "Maharashtrian women are very particular about the cereals and grains that they buy. They want it all to be clean, washed and dried and that's what we do," says Dhananjay Bapat who has taken up the reins of the shop set up by his grandfather. "This is must visit store for families where there are weddings, child birth or any other religious function. Turmeric and 'akshat' used in weddings is brought from our store as we give it the required treatment and sell in packets.

Care is taken to innovate and constantly upgrade the products to meet the changes in demand. "Khus khus, kharik powder used in laddoos, gound and tilli which has been washed and dried is brought from our shop and sent to US, UK and Australia by our customers," says Bapat and adds that this year the new items being sold are garlic and onion powder, roasted jowar flour and makhana flour for those who fast