India on My Platter (18 page)

P
ALAK
S
AI
B
HAJI

(A green vegetable dish cooked along with spinach and pulses.)

This recipe is the regular version; reduce the garam masala, green chilli and chilli powder accordingly when serving it to elderly people who might not adjust to the spicy dish.

Ingredients

Method

1.  Combine the split Bengal gram with a cup of water and pressure cook for one whistle. Drain the excess water and keep aside.

2.  Heat oil in a pressure cooker and add cumin seeds.

3.  When the seeds crackle, add onions, potatoes, colocasia root, okra, cauliflower, radish, green chillies and gingergarlic paste and sauté for five minutes.

4.  Add chilli powder, coriander powder, turmeric powder, salt and sauté.

5.  Add spinach, country sorrel and cooked split Bengal gram and pressure cook for 15 minutes.

6.  Allow it to cool and whisk the mixture well. Mash all the vegetables inside. Season it with raw mango powder and garam masala.

7.  For the tempering, heat oil and once it is hot, add the garlic and red chillies. Let the chillies crackle and the garlic soften for a minute or two and then add this tempering to the dish.

8.  Serve hot with brown onion rice!

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This dish is well suited for old people; it is nutritious and is mild when it comes to the use of spices.

D
AY
55

29 September / Bengaluru

Since this part of my trip had been a bit off-beat, bordering on the spiritual side, I realised that after travelling so many kilometres, I needed a quiet place to meditate and truly understand the difference between spirituality and religion. For the same, I went to the Art of Living International Centre, located on the outskirts of Bangalore, a place where many people from different walks of like, and different parts of the world, came together. Founded by Sri Sri Ravi Shankar, the foundation’s centres are located in more than 150 countries around the world. They offer a variety of personal development and trauma relief programmes. Majority of the staff here comprises volunteers. The basis of these programmes is meditation, yoga and breathing exercises. Thousands of people have overcome complex issues of depression and aggression with the help of the many programmes the foundation offers. The Art of Living is engaged in a lot of social-service activities globally; they offer their services in the areas of conflict resolution, disaster and trauma relief, poverty alleviation, empowerment of women, education for all, and environment sustainability. The foundation focuses on inner growth, so I felt it was the right place for me to stop and rejuvenate before moving on.

I met Swami Param Dev, who gave me a walking tour of the
ashram.
Greenery, water bodies, and birds surround it, making it perfect for long, peaceful solitary walks. He explained that the mission of the foundation is to bring an unshakeable smile to every face in the world. I attended the Sudarshan Kriya programme, which is a yoga discipline focussing on breathing techniques that has a positive effect on the mental and physical well-being. In scientific terms, it improves the antioxidant levels, reduces DNA damage and cell aging. Also, every emotion is connected with a breathing pattern, hence, emotions can be influenced by selective breathing techniques, leading you to become the master of your mind and body rather than being a slave to them. I learnt all this in one session here at the
ashram,
truly impressed. Swamiji also informed me that the Art of Living has an Ayurveda centre that serves food for the soul. I made through the wilderness to the Panchkarma centre. Panchkarma refers to the five elements that make up our body. I met Dr. Nisha here who explained how important detoxification is for the body, and how Ayurveda helps revitalise, rejuvenate and refresh it. Food plays a vital role in the process of detoxification and healing of our beings. She quoted a line from a spiritual text that said, ‘
Pattiya sadi gada tasya kimo sadani sevame'
meaning, ‘If there is a proper diet, there is no need for medicine.’

Diets are a subjective matter. What makes this science so specific and effective is that each diet is specific to the person’s body type. Applying a process called the
‘pith’
which involved an examination of my veins, my body type was identified. My
pith
turned out to be ‘fire’ which meant I was able to eat a lot and still feel hungry sooner rather than later. I was asked to stop eating so much spice, because it was adding to the fire. I needed to change my diet to light, spice free and full of dairy products. A very unique experience indeed; I walked around, visiting their kitchens and tasting the food they prepared for their patrons and staff. Everything was organic and meant to heal one’s body. This trip definitely gave me a new perspective about our cuisine and style of cooking.

Coming back to my initial question, I realised that I couldn’t really pick sides between spirituality and religion. There was a fine line dividing the two and sometimes, they meshed. I guess it was enough to say that I felt at peace. So, I gathered my peaceful thoughts and headed out for a lovely dinner.

I wanted to relive my food memories from my earlier days in Bangalore. So I first went to Anand Adyar Bhavan (popularly known as A2B), famous for their Mysore
pak.
The restaurant began its journey two and a half decades ago in Chennai, now spread across Karnataka and Tamil Nadu. I tried three different flavours of Mysore
pak
this time around: cashew nut, extra
ghee,
and low
ghee.
The way it dissolved on your tongue reminded me of butter. The nomenclature traced its origins back to the time when this dessert was made for kings (
pak
means royal). Apart from the Mysore
pak,
the standard Udupi items were also not to be missed. While looking around, I noticed the special
kara appam
maker with which I tried to make my very own domed
appam
(a type of pancake made with fermented rice batter and coconut milk). These
appams
are served with three types of chutney, all coconut based, but with added flavours and ingredients. While one is served plain and simple, the others have tomato and coriander added to them, respectively.

After dinner, I called up an old friend; she and I frequented Corner House to feed our dessert fetish. Unassuming in its set-up, Corner House caters to a very large audience. The owner, Mr. Narayan Rao, met me and told me that the dessert death by chocolate—made from a generous helping of chocolate cake, three scoops of ice cream of your choice, whipped cream, cherries, and hot chocolate sauce—should be, in fact, renamed ‘Life by Chocolate.’ Corner House, as you would have guessed by now, was made up of many such desserts that combined all our different sweet cravings garnished with their special chocolate sauce. My favourite from the menu was the malt chocolate shake. Made with vanilla ice cream, dark chocolate sauce, the salty-malt flavour was because of the malt extract in it. What better way to end my Bangalore trip, than to smooth out my spiritual creases, with a sinful shake! These sins aren’t really sins, wouldn’t you agree?

D
AY
56

I was now headed to the land of Nizams and of course, biryani; Hyderabad.

D
AY
57

1 October / Hyderabad

My journey went north to Andhra Pradesh. After 550 km, in the late afternoon, I entered the City of Nizams, Hyderabad. Established in 1591, the only way to describe the city is with the vocabulary of its architecture. In nineteenth century, when the Mughals took over, Hyderabad became the cultural hub. The Persian influence differentiates this city from the rest; it maintains the old Islamic glory in the patchwork of chaotic urbanisation.

Each Indian city has its defining monument; ‘monuments’ actually, but there is always that special one. Like Delhi boasts of India Gate, Hyderabad prides in the Char Minar. It is a monument, a minaret and a mosque. Getting to the top, via the dark winding staircase, was like walking through the film set of a horror movie. I was definitely spooked, until I got to the top. I climbed 149 stairs; I read, I re-read and I crosschecked. Each
minar,
minaret in English, had its own staircase. On what is called the ‘upper floor’ (another word for balcony), is the view of Laad Bazaar, famous for its pearl necklaces and all sorts of shiny imitation jewellery. I recollected that a famous chocolatier once made an impression of Char Minar out of 50 kg of chocolate; even the dessert world loves it!

After I spotted Laad Bazaar, I started my hunt for the famous Irani
chai.
Traditionally, it is a milky, sweet tea rather thick in consistency. What makes it unique is that the milk is boiled separate from the tea. The tea is brewed separately. They are then mixed by pouring the tea into the milk. I enjoy this tea more because of my love for sweet tea, unlike the strong tea that many Indians prefer. So, whenever you visit Char Minar, a small tea break with assorted local biscuits should be on your to-do list.

Speaking of sweet things in Hyderabad, I would like to mention the
badam ki jaali; badam
means almonds and
jaali
means an ornamental lattice net. The design of the almond paste dough resembles the carved stone windows of the Nizam’s old palaces. These almond burfis, with old Mughal designs, were being made by two very dynamic ladies. The older of the two, Nafees, was carrying forward an old recipe, given to her many years ago, by her mother-in-law. Now, she was working with her daughter-in-law, Nasreen, and carrying on the tradition. They had been in this business for 45 years, and they revealed that this way of preparing almond burfis went back to the Nawaiti people, when they migrated from Madras to Central India. Back in the days, cashew nuts and almonds were ground with the mortar and pestle as there were no machines or electric ovens to bake these desserts. They relied on kerosene to cook. They now had bulk ovens and grinders; but judging by the popularity, the taste has not changed much. The workspace was not much larger than an average living room, but it had the capacity to make over a lakh
jaalis
in a day.

As the first step, the dough is made using almond paste, and then, given a diamond-like shape. A sheet of silver
varq
was then laid on it and set aside. Another diamondshaped dough was made to match. This one had the lattice design cut out of it, and pasted on top of the
varq
covered dough. That gave it the effect of an ornamental
jaali.
It was then baked and served. The fact that there was no additives in it, and that it was 100 per cent almond and sugar preparation, gave it a long shelf life. I tried my hand at this noble sweet; I made a chocolate
badaam ki jaali
by coating the
jaali
with melted chocolate and setting it.

What I am about to tell you next shows how Pakistan and India are still one when it comes to food. I am talking about a Sindhi migrant who came across in 1952, from Pakistan to Hyderabad with his fruit biscuits. I went to the Banjara Hills branch of a store, where I figured out that Osmania biscuits are a household name. These are the biscuits that the Hyderabadis love to enjoy their tea with. These are different from the regular fruit biscuits, and are a part of the wide range of other sweets available at the Karachi Bakery store. They still follow the old recipe and preparation methods, where everything is done by hand. The importance of being handmade is what makes this business special and successful. The fruit biscuits, which I would like to call tutti frutti biscuits, as clichéd as that might sound, tasted of cashew nuts and smelt like they had a whiff of
ittar
perfume. The flavour was elevated with a slight show of salt. This made the sweetness even more special.

A close second was the Osmania biscuit, which is the perfect accompaniment to that Irani
chai
I mentioned, much like the rusk and
chai
combination of the north. It is a soft tea biscuit that melts in your mouth and gets its name from the last ruler of Hyderabad, Osman Ali Khan. These biscuits don’t crumble easily when dipped, have a hint of cardamom and saffron flavour and are unlike any other biscuit you would have tasted. Apart from this, Karachi Bakery is very famous for their plum cakes and a variety of other desserts, along with their
badam
milk. Pure full-cream milk, with saffron and ground almonds, broke the myth for me that good
badam
milk was only available in the North. I packed a kilogram of assorted biscuits to take home to my family.

I spent the whole evening eating sweets, and thinking of going easy on my tummy the next day. However, it was not meant to be as I was about to discover the history of the famous Hyderabadi biryani, with the master himself.