From Italy, With Love

So Navaratri is here. Wait a minute, that cannot be the beginning to this entry, right? Let me explain: Navaratri is here so I’m following the one Sundal a day ritual. I promise a montage entry as soon as we are done with the nine days, until then, here is another one for keepers.

The beautiful fall evening, balmy air and warm drawing room light included, prodded me to make something… novel. We’ve all eaten biscotti, an Italian pastry, at the coffee shop but I’ve always wanted to make some at home. Now, I’ve always been under the misconception that a decent biscotti needed lots of butter and eggs,  but google set me straight. Apparently French pastries and Italian pasticcini are worlds apart!

So half hour, most of it filled with me peeling dried apricot, later, I put my slab of biscotti dough into the oven. The Mister came home to warm biscotti and Sundal for “tea”. What a lucky man, I say! Now where is my trip to Tuscany? 😛

 

Stuffin’ a Muffin

Breakfast, I’ve heard, is a pain in most households. Being a night owl, I’ve never been up early enough to be bothered about breakfast when I set up home. Apart from those rare days that I have found myself wide awake at eight in the morning, hunger has never been an issue for me in the early AMs. The Mister, being the least troublesome man ever, continued eating his waffles, a frozen treat he is reluctant to give up on… and then it struck me. Frozen food ideas!

The west does run on frozen food. The supermarkets boast of huge freezer sections that include a number of interesting breakfast options. Yesterday, when I was wondering what I should make for the evening, I decided on a dish that can do double-duty as a snack in the evening and a breakfast option in the mornings. Without further ado, I introduce to you the savory muffin.

Being a versatile dish, you could get innovative and add on your choice of stuffing. I made it with onion, garlic and capsicum. Since it is my own recipe, here are the details:

Ingredients:

Two and a quarter cups flour (half bread and half wheat)

One teaspoon salt

One teaspoons crushed pepper

One teaspoon crushed pepper flakes

Half teaspoon sugar

One cup onion chopped

Three pods garlic chopped

Half a capsicum chopped

Half cup milk

Half cup Mozzarella cheese

A dollop of cream cheese (optional)

One tablespoon oil

One teaspoon baking powder

One teaspoon baking soda

Method:

Preheat the oven to 350 F (175 C) Saute the onion, garlic and capsicum in the oil for two minutes. Sift the flour, salt, sugar, baking powder and baking soda. Add the pepper powders to this. Mix in the sauteed vegetables and the cheeses. Pour the milk in slowly and blend the batter. It should neither be too thick, nor too watery. Aim at getting a thick pancake batter consistency. Now grease a twelve muffin cups pan. Pour the batter equally amongst them. Bake in the oven for 25 minutes. Enjoy with salsa or tomato sauce.

The beauty of the recipe is that you can seal the muffins in a ziplock bag and freeze them. Just thaw in the microwave oven for one minute to a minute and a half. The cheese will be gooey and the veggies will be cooked to perfection.

And the cream cheese story: A couple of days ago, I had a bagel at a coffee shop. I had some cream cheese spread leftover and being the stingy person that I have become, I brought it home to use in a recipe. So tada! I’m sure my cheap-o counterparts reading this blog got their jollies from my brainwave.

The Iyer Code of Cooking

Tam-Brahm cooking is an adventure that could put many a person in a freaky muddle. Being from a household that gets high on food, I inherited a strong foundation, hence I did not have to learn the basics… or so I thought. As I mentioned before, Tam-Brahm cooking is an adventure, but segregate the population into two (the Iyers and the Iyengars) and it gives you scope to muddle up even the saner crowd… like me.

When I, an Iyengar, got married to an awesome Iyer boy, the mister, my little brain made me believe that I had one less thing to worry about: food. As anyone can tell you, the “gar” crowd is crazy about its food. We are said to frown upon the other clan’s lack of gastronomic creativity. Iyengars love their Paruppus (dal/lentil), are generous with their oils, Nei (clarified butter) and spices. They have an unspoken pact that going OTT on the specified amount of ingredients is the right thing to do for any recipe.

You would never find an Iyengar household in the world without at least two Karamadhus (Iyengar lingo for curry), one Pachchadi (raita) and something fried in their daily menu.

The Iyers on the other hand are very famous for their Vatha Kuzhambu and Appalums and that’s it. I’ve even heard a couple of mean jokes about the Iyers’ staple diet. Though I do admit that I have secretly laughed, I have also acknowledged the huge exaggeration in them. So the Iyer family I have now become a part of is the biggest break to the mean jokes. They love their food. My mommy-in-law is one of the best ever cooks in the world.

Though the stereotypes have all been disproved, I have to admit that the Iyers do rock their Vatha Kuzhambu. Unfortunately, I did not spend too much time with my mommy the second in the kitchen. The two weeks after wedding was spent in socializing with people and stuffing the suitcases with Amreeka-worthy goodies. Landing in this country, I found my way around cooking my Iyengar yummies and trying and ultimately failing to make decent Vatha Kuzhambu. A couple of SOS calls to the Iyer mum and a few conversations with the American Chithi sketched me a vague map about navigating around an Iyer kitchen.

Hence, after multiple trials and errors, I made a Vatha Kuzhambu that seemed 90% Iyer today. The husband gave it 4 stars (going by his comments) and I sighed in relief, fnally! The Iyer gods have not given up on me!

Cinnamon Swirlies

Since I got asked a million times what’s special for the day (and got threatened a couple of times that there better be something new too), I had to post this. The temperature has dropped here in East Coast and we are all looking at our woolens with resigned eagerness. The clothes I had cast off with glee into the hibernation drawers have all marked their appearance and are in the process of calling our closets home. So to match the mood, I decided to make something cheery for the day.

A couple of days ago, a good friend of mine posted a recipe link on my wall. The cinnamon bread looked so tempting and delicious that I made up my mind to try soon. Unfortunately, I didn’t have egg in my fridge so I had to stall baking the bread. The recipe actually reminded me of McRennett’s cinnamon bun and I couldn’t help but salivate at the thought. Long long ago, when I was working at my first job in ITC, one of my colleagues introduced me to the these baked goodies.

The rolls were a signature dish at the bakery and anytime I walked into McRennett, a very popular chain in Madras, the aroma of cinnamon and fresh bread would send me to a blissful gastronomic heaven. Hence, we used to haunt the outlet near work at least twice a week to buy fresh, warm cinnamon buns for the whole team. After coming here, I discovered (thanks to FN and the Neelys) that Cinnamon Roll is a popular Southern dish. And so, as the story goes, I decided that this would be my “special” of the day.

The dough, like all breads and buns, has dough, yeast, salt and sugar in it. The only difference is this one also contains milk (instead of water) and butter only  to make it softer and yummier. So 1 1/2 cups flour (not tested with wheat), half a packet yeast, two tablespoons sugar and 3/4 teaspoon salt. So mix the dry ingredients together, add two tablespoons butter to half cup milk and warm it in the microwave (for 45 seconds). Mix this to the flour mixture and knead it well. Add two tablespoons of water (one at a time) if it is thick. Adjust the consistency to a nice supple ball of dough. Cover it with a damp kitchen cloth or tissue paper for ten minutes.

While the dough rests, mix together 1/2 cup of brown sugar, 1 1/2 teaspoons of cinnamon, 1/2 cup raisins and a tablespoon butter. Roll the dough with a rolling pin into a rectangle (I have no idea about the actual dimension). The dough should be neither thick, nor thin. The height will finally decide the size of your roll. Spread the topping on the dough. Now roll the dough up from the width (the longer size) side nearest to you. Show some TLC, don’t roll it too tight. You will love the result! Cut then horizontally and then magic! You will see the swirls on the pieces of what is soon going to be the cinnamon rolls.

Preheat the oven to 375 F (190 C), bake for 15 minutes or until the rolls are completely cooked (you will know if they are if you are in the habit of peeping into the oven multiple times like I do)

That’s it. My so easy to bake cinnamon twists are ready. Replace the raisins with tooty-frooty (remember those colorful yummy things?) and you have the McRennett version of the rolls. So after this (not so) quick post, I am looking forward to eating a couple while watching Friends as I wait for the Mister to get back. Happy Birthday to me! 🙂

Please tell me you noticed the largely improved quality of my photos! I spent a zillion (half hour actually) hours editing them. My latest resolution (pun, ha ha) is to churn out better blog pics. Who said a digi cannot produce awesome pics? I didn’t, certainly!

The Seemingly Productive Update

Sometimes in life, we have to accept a bunch of explicit truths. I ran into one of mine while trying to get done with this week (which still happens to be a process): you may do a whole lot things yet end up feeling like you did nothing. While I try to find absolution for having nothing to write about, I request you to hold on and tell me if I am right or if this is just another overly-dramatic fit.

Since I have this huge exam thingy coming at me around the corner, I have not done much in the kitchen. Apart from extending the Four Week Bread Challenge into a mini-fifth week and experimenting with Artichoke, a vegetable I have been dreading to deal with, I have let my kitchen transform into a pigsty (with no pigs, ironically).

While the Husband has been doing most of the cleaning, washing up, tidying and arranging, I have claimed ownership over the couch and refused to get off. I study/work during the daytime, after catching a little bit of Ina in action and so my day unravels, struggling with my nemesis (Math) and begging my so-called strength (English). Somewhere around all the brain exercise, saturation catches me unaware.

So back to the sty, I am very particular about the place I cook. Yes, I am a kitchen-Nazi, though I hate using that darned word. My ladles always shine, my sink is always empty (after I scrub my pans by hand and sometimes giving them up to the dishwasher) and Mr Clean is my best friend. I am the kind of person who feels those extra few drops of liquid in the dishwasher detergent compartment is acceptable even if I run the risk of flooding my kitchen with soap (which has never happened). So today as I looked at my kitchen in shambles, stacked with unwashed pots, I felt a pang of guilt enveloping me.

I know I have another day to tackle it, I may even convince myself that letting it go for a couple of days more until I finish my exam is acceptable but that just makes me feel like a weakling.

Ps: my Amathophobic “Freund” is probably going to have nightmares about my kitchen now but that is a chance I must take. Sorry, N! 🙂

Conversations in the Dark

Lights hold a magical place in my heart. I have been fascinated for a long time by the mere physics of light and how it can transform any space into an epitome of sophistication. Though I did not understand its importance while studying photography, I appreciated light later on when my sister started clicking photos. I studied the way a smile can be transformed from mystery to carefree with a little tweak in light.

Later on, as I tried my hand at redoing my room back home, I made peace with the fact that my sassy pad needed at least one awesome light spot. Thus, my corridor came into being, with a tiny spotlight to spread a golden glow across a small, low ceiling stretch.

It is perhaps only because of lights that I found a deep love for terracotta. This traditional form of molding boasts specifically of beautiful pieces of table lamps and ceiling domes. And it is, indeed lights that brought me to lighting candles, sitting by them and making finger patterns.

I knew long ago that when I live in a house of my own, I will ditch the sterile tube lights and surround myself with pretty lamps and conversation pieces that would glow at the touch of a finger. My love for IKEA actually developed because of their beautiful Lights Section. I remember spending nearly an hour and a half looking at lamps and figuring out which one to buy. The hubby, thankfully, is also a finicky shopper, hence we found our soul-mates in each other right there in the Lamps Section.

As I concentrated on clicking poorly framed photographs around lighting, natural and otherwise, I decided to make a lamp of my own. The inspiration for the lamp flared from a weird but well-designed origami the hubby made out of plastic bag-seal from the supermarket. After researching the internet and picking on other lamp enthusiasts’ brains, I formed a plan, spent exactly $15 on hardware that included the dome, lamp-base, metal scone, electrical links and bulb. Hence the Foil Haphazard lamp came into being.

Light still fascinates me. Every house I go to, the first thing I notice is the lighting in the rooms and the glow they cast upon every conversation in progress. I watch HGTV especially to get a peep at the beautiful contemporary chandeliers and bright backyards. Someday, I will finally be done with doing up my house and that day will find every room lit up in dazzling lights that will not be too bright but boast of character.

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Week 2- Bread Gone French

Keeping up with my project, I just brought this week’s bread out of the oven. Now, I am all for the hard labor of kneading dough but the Baguette proved to be a pretty indignant bread to form. But after going through a couple of videos online, I figured out how to make it.

Here is a little bit of history Gyan: Baguette is a very French bread. It has a straightforward method of baking and involves the basic ingredients needed to make bread: flour, yeast, salt and water. The traditional baguette is seldom stuffed, unlike last week’s Focaccia. But if you want, you can get creative and add cheese and such.

The Baguette has traveled the world more than any other bread has. Its popular Avtar is the submarine sandwich. Crispy crust, honeycombed inside, the Baguette was a pleasure to make and even better to gobble up with the evening tea.

Das Purple Experiment

A couple of weeks back, the husband pounced gleefully on a pound of pesticide-free beetroot at our grocery store. After I made the traditional curry one day, the half a bag that didn’t make it to the frying pan solemnly returned to the veggie tray in the fridge. Last night, I came-by it by chance and decided to make something out of it. Now, I am adventurous with my food by I knew that making Sambar or such out of it would only reduce it to a mere reserve vegetable. I skimmed web sites as always, for a quick dinner fix but I found out that though people love it, the beetroot is one of the most boring tuber to cook. Long(er) story short, I made a Subzi, ate it with Chapati, we loved it, ergo I am posting the recipe here. Pardon a pictureless post, I forgot to click one in the gastronomic excitement.

Ingredients:

One medium-sized onion fine-chopped

Three pieces of garlic grated Rachel Ray style

One medium-sized tomato fine-chopped

Four beetroots peeled and chopped like you would for a curry

Salt to taste

Kashmiri Mirch powder

One tsp sugar

One cup thick curd

Coriander aka. Kothamalli

To grind:

One and a half tsp Jeera

One tsp rice

Quarter tsp pepper

One tsp Garam Marsala

To saute:

One Tbsp Ghee

Method:

In a saute pan, melt the ghee on medium flame. Fry the onion and the garlic until the onion turns golden. Add the chopped tomato and let it cook. Meanwhile, grind coarse, the spices. When the tomato is half-cooked, add the beetroot, the ground spices, the chili powder, salt and sugar. Let the beetroot cook, it takes fifteen minutes. Add the curd and let it continue to cook until the curd comes together like Malai/Khoa. Switch the stove off and garnish with the coriander leaves. Tada, you now have a tasty Subzi to eat with Chapati or rice.

Now, don’t be greedy. Give him some… like a tablespoon full?

My Personal Challenge Part Infinite

I love personal challenges. They are more fun to follow and funner to break. Ha ha, funny. So after long, and keeping in mind that it has been a whole week since I wrote here, I have decided to go on another challenge. I will write one post a day and click pictures for them all by myself. It is time I said bye-bye to Google images.

I will probably miss a day or two of the challenge but then, five posts in a week, in my opinion is pretty darn good. So here is to the week!

Love this!

I love the phrase “Love yourself, everything else will follow” primarily because I can claim my love for self without running the risk of being called a narcissist. My faith thankfully runs on saner waters also. I have and overly-talked about low self-esteem. I used to push myself to stand in the poor-relatives queue while secretly knowing that I belong with the normal people. For a teenager with an everlasting identity crisis, I had people insisting that I better assert myself before it is too late.

One day, I received a well-sounding advice from another very frustrated poor-relative. Since I try not to get too personal, I will not name names here. So this poor-relative told me that I am going to be like cow dung (we people are not very cheerful even metaphor-wise). My fresh, self-pitying self is soon going to dry up and get tossed around, eventually end up in a furnace or the trash can. It was a very bad example but it opened my doors to self-acceptance. Now, everyone knows that acceptance is just a few paces away from tolerance, like and then love.

Even at the darkest moments, I have learned not to give myself up and say “yes, I am a failure, judge me.” People are all not sweet. Some of them would actually wake up and follow your advice. Most of them would probably be in the process of judging already. The curve to showing your well-censored finger lies between resisting the urge to hide under your bed and shrugging off what they think about you with a sexy shimmy.

When you feel the need for self-pity clouding over you, just think of things that are nice about you. Look back at things you have experienced, the kind others cannot even dream about: good or bad, they matter to you. Remember that these things make you a unique cookie in a world filled with nut-jobs and freaks. Lately, I have been believing the theory that self-love works on many levels: when you feel depressed, when you feel aimless, when you are overwhelmed and oh, when you are PMSing. You don’t need binge-eating or midnight sniffle calls to your agony aunt to be assured. Love yourself, everything will follow.

Oh and about the other poor-relative, I don’t know if they followed what they preached but I think it is my duty to send some virtual good thoughts to them. So here it is, in blog form.