India on My Platter (9 page)

D
AY
23

28 August / Amritsar

The land of five rivers, lush green fields and people with big hearts, is how I would sum up Punjab. I was back to my schedule of rising early morning; this day was going to be exciting as we were headed somewhere unusual. The destination was Attari village in the Amritsar district of Punjab, three kilometres away from the Indo-Pakistan border at Wagah. It is situated 25 km west of Amritsar and is the last Indian station on the rail route connecting Lahore, Pakistan, with Delhi.

Punjab has one of the most fertile lands in India and same is the case with Attari. The speciality of this village is that a lot of rice is grown here. The merit of being a traveller who loves to talk and socialise is that you find good people who not only feed you good food but they also make you a part of their family. To be my kind of a traveller you have to be a bit shameless and greedy, that’s the only way you get the real deal. So my objectives were very clear; I had to climb on the tractor, visit the fields, eat yummy earthy food. My producer had found a family of farmers who were ready to host us for the day and also happy to educate me about their life.

Farmers who were well off had simple but well spread out houses next to their farms. They generally lived in big joint families and milked their own cows in their backyard. So I was going to spend the whole day with Harpreet Singh and his family. Harpreet was an educated farmer and belonged to the new generation and believed in making a change in the way they cultivated rice. As I entered their house there was that earthy, rustic fragrance in the air. The porch was spacious, as big as a two BHK in Mumbai; here I was greeted by more than half a dozen men sitting on a wire cot, called
charpai.
One of them was his father who was wearing a blue coloured turban and was the head of the village. He was a highly respected man known for keeping his word and giving valuable suggestions for the development of their community. They all gave me a hearty hug and welcomed me in traditional Punjabi style with a glass of
lassi
(yoghurt-based drink) and
kheer.
They immediately asked Harpreet to give me a tour of the fields to make me understand how they irrigated their fields through a tube well.

As I went through these huge rice growing farms, or more commonly known as paddy fields, the idea of living in boxed cities suddenly felt claustrophobic to me. There was a huge tube well right in the centre, which was used to send water to the entire field. There were ways paved out for the water to flow in a certain direction. Harpreet, without hesitation, asked ‘Do you want to take a bath from this tube well? We do it all the time and the water is chilled and clean.’ Now, that was the best shower that I have ever had! Trust me, the force of water was fit for an elephant to take a bath in, and yes, the water was crystal clear. After the bath, I changed out of my city clothes and opted for a simple village style vest and
dhoti
(garment worn by an Indian male, akin to a skirt, consisting of a piece of material tied around the waist and extending to cover most of the legs) with an orange turban. It was time now to climb a tractor and ride back to the house for the real deal: food. The tractor ride was as fun as it could be; I felt like Sunny Deol from one of his movies! It was already late afternoon, so I decided to take an afternoon siesta on the
charpai
outside in the porch before the big party in the evening.

In the evening, the porch was full of hearty laughs as we discussed food, life, religion and India. Harpreet had promised that the dinner would not be any ordinary one; it was a local feast prepared by the ladies of the house. Every single dish was cooked on slow flame, lit by wood and dry dung. What was on the menu?
Sarson ka saag, matar paneer,
chicken curry,
boondi raita, dal jeera, meethe chawal, paranthas
and
makai roti.
As they had done so much, the least I could do was teach Harpreet how to make a
parantha,
as his mother complained that he did not know how to cook at all. I taught him how to make a
chana dal parantha,
as he wanted to learn something healthier. To top it all, Harpreet had planned a surprise Bhangra party. Around 50 villagers came together and there was a huge bonfire that was lit. We sat around it with our plates filled with food and hearts filled with happiness. No hotel food would ever come close to this meal. Every bite I ate, I wanted to shake my head and look at the camera and give a ‘Nigella’ kind of expression. This was real Indian food, no fuss, filled with pure spices,
ghee,
vegetables and love.

I learnt my lesson that slow-cooking is a technique that makes a world of difference to any dish you cook, it helps the dish retain its nutrients and makes it tastier. With a full-hearted meal, drinks and dance, the day came to an end and I bid goodbye to everyone with a heavy heart. I had earned a friend for life: Harpreet. One tip: the next time you travel, look for people in the interiors of the city, and they’ll give you a day to cherish for the rest of your life!

D
AY
24

29 August / Ludhiana

‘Sat sri akal. Ki haal chal?’
is the way you greet in Punjab and ask, ‘Hi, how’re you?’ with respect. Now that I was in Punjab I had picked up a few Punjabi words. Besides the lush fields of Punjab, the state is unanimous with its big road-side
dhabas.

I was in Ludhiana, one of the richest cities in Punjab. A year back someone had given away 50 BMWs as wedding return gifts to his closest friend and relatives. The real objective for me was to try a
dhaba
or two for their famous
rara
chicken; it would have been unfair had I not tried good chicken dishes after coming all the way to Punjab, wouldn’t it? Apparently, the best
dhaba
serving excellent
rara
chicken in Ludhiana was Aman Chicken. Manpreet, the owner’s son, explained, ‘Aman Chicken is about 30-years-old now; it was established in 1985. Our speciality is
rara
chicken. There’s an endless list of chicken dishes. If you’ll read about our restaurant on the internet, it’ll tell you that our butter
naan
(a type of leavened bread, typically of teardrop shape and traditionally cooked in a clay oven) is very famous. We wrap it with a special white butter and cream.’

I could already envision myself gaining at least three to four kilograms from today’s meal. Soon, I was in the kitchen and I met the tandoor specialist who revealed the secret behind the butter
naan,
‘Make the
naan.
Spread dollops of butter, and then fold it like a handkerchief and put more butter from the top.’ They were very hush-hush about the
rara
chicken recipe and I was sure they wouldn’t give it away. Nonetheless, they were doing so much for me that it would have been unfair to not showcase some of my own culinary skills to them. With help from their tandoor specialist I invented a new dish called
Balle Balle
Chicken.
It used chicken
tikka
(Indian dish of small pieces of meat or vegetables marinated in a spice mixture and grilled) as a base, which was wrapped with a thin
roti
and the corners were pinched so that the chicken stayed inside the roll. Then, it was covered with a tandoori marinade and grilled in the tandoor. It came out perfectly cooked in a beautiful colour. ‘Trust me, you’ll do a
balle balle
dance step once you try it!’ owner Manpreet said as he took a big bite.

B
ALLE
B
ALLE
C
HICKEN

(Charcoaled chicken stuffed inside a bread roll.)

Ingredients

Method

1.  Marinate the chicken pieces with a marinade prepared by mixing thick yoghurt, red chilli paste, ginger-garlic paste, turmeric, garam masala powder, coriander powder, lemon juice, sugar, mustard oil, and salt together.

2.  Keep only two tablespoons of the marinade aside for later use.

3.  Keep the marinated chicken
tikka
in the fridge for at least two hours.

4.  Meanwhile, prepare the dough with
maida,
butter, salt and water. Make soft dough just like you would make for
rotis.

5.  Preheat the oven/electric tandoor/BBQ. Mix one tablespoon
maida
to the chicken
tikka
marinade that had been kept aside. Now put only two chicken pieces in each skewer or shashlik sticks. Cook this for seven to eight minutes in the oven on high heat (220°C) until it is 80 per cent cooked and has a slightly charred appearance.

6.  While the chicken is cooking, roll out small round
rotis
from the dough.

7.  Now wrap this
roti
around both the chicken
tikkas
(that are 80 per cent cooked) on one skewer. Pinch the ends (basically, you’re enveloping the chicken with the dough). Brush little leftover marinade on this outer cover. Repeat this for all the
tikkas.

8.  Put these back in the oven for two to three minutes. Keep rotating to ensure that the outer layer is cooked evenly and gets a nice colour.

9.  Gently pull these out from the skewers, in similar fashion in which you would take out
tikkas.

10. 
Balle Balle
Chicken is ready! Now you can dunk these in chutney and enjoy with your drinks. (This recipe may look tough but when you pull it off, you’ll be glad!)

∼

After the cooking was done, I moved on to explore the Chaura Bazaar of Ludhiana. One is sure to get something or the other to eat at every corner of this popular street; be it the famous Amritsari
dal ki wadiya
or the
dal chaat.
Panditji di Hatti is where you would get special
paranthas.
It was a small shop with 10-12 seats and all
paranthas
were being made only on the griddle, no tandoor at all. Panditji explained, ‘We make it with butter. We have
paranthas
stuffed with potato, onion, cauliflower mixed with roasted carom seed masala (
ajwain
masala) and they are all cooked only on a griddle.’ I ordered my favourite, the
aloo-pyaaz
(potato-onion) one. And as I took a bite, the flavour of onions and its crispiness satiated me. The combination of potato and onions was also superb. I must admit that the secret of Panditji’s
paranthas
was in his kitchen. As I had mentioned, there was no tandoor, all
paranthas
were made on the
tawa,
there were eight
tawas
in one line to help bring out the orders speedily, as a
tawa
makes the process slower because
paranthas
take time to cook on a
tawa
in comparison to a tandoor. Panditji shook my hand, charged me no money, and said, ‘Son, there is no other secret to cooking; it is God’s grace and your love to feed people.’

D
AY
25

30 August / Ludhiana

After such excessive culinary binges for the last few days, it seemed like a good idea to start the day with some physical exercise. Today’s agenda was to learn about Gatka, a traditional South Asian form of combat-training in which wooden sticks are used to simulate swords in sparring matches. The terms Gatka and Shastra Vidya are often used specifically in relation to Punjabi-Sikhs. However, the art is not unique to any particular ethnocultural group or religion but has been the traditional form of combat throughout North India and Pakistan for centuries. Attacks and counter-attacks vary from one community to another, but the basic techniques are the same.

Harmandeep, the teacher of this particular Gatka group that we met, explained, ‘We have been doing it since childhood. It is not a game and is usually meant to be done in the battleground. It is specially practiced in Punjab, because this is considered the land of the Gurus.’ It was mesmerising to see young students perform; their movements were swift, they could use all sorts of defensive weapons and had an enviable amount of energy. Gatka involves the mind, body and soul; you have to be physically, emotionally and spiritually strong. Like most Asian martial arts, Gatka begins with footwork and tactical body positioning (
pentra
). To make it more rhythmic and to keep up the energy levels, a
dhol
(drum) is played continuously. The weapons used are called
shastra.
There were many, like swords, sticks, shields, polearms but the sharpest was the
kirpan.

I loved the dedication these kids had and wanted to cook something sweet and special for them. So, I decided to cook
Mishri Halwa
(
mishri
means crystallised sugar lumps) for them. The kids loved it, I learnt a lot and now it was time for me to bid farewell and climb into the waiting Limousine. (Yes, a Limo! Someone in Ludhiana heard I was visiting and had generously offered a Limousine as my ride until I reached Chandigarh. WOW!)

M
ISHRI
H
ALWA

(Sweet semolina pudding cooked with crystallised sugar lumps.)