India on My Platter

by Saransh Goila

  Salt to taste

  ¼ cup finely powdered dry fruits like cashew nuts (kaju), almonds (badaam), pistachios (pista)

  1 tbsp fresh mint (pudina) leaves, finely chopped

  10-12 saffron (kesar) strands, soaked in 1 tbsp warm milk

  1 tbsp cornflour (makki ka atta)

  1 tbsp refined flour (maida)

  ½ cup breadcrumbs

  3 tbsp clarified butter (ghee)

  1 small sandalwood (chandan) stick

  Method

  1. Take the hung yoghurt in a bowl. Add crumbled cottage cheese, ginger-garlic paste, green chillies, red chilli powder, freshly ground spice powders, salt, dry fruits, chopped mint, saffron, cornflour and refined flour to it. Mix well.

  2. Keep it aside for 15 minutes.

  3. Make a small patty with the hung yoghurt mixture, almost the size of a cutlet. Now coat these patties with breadcrumbs.

  4. Heat the ghee in a pan and add grated sandalwood or the whole piece as it is. Simmer it for five minutes. Let it stand for 30 minutes. The ghee will absorb the beautiful aroma of sandalwood. Strain it.

  5. Now, shallow fry these kebabs in this sandalwood ghee.

  6. Serve them hot with sheermal or any other Indian bread that you prefer.

  ∼

  I came across the information that the sheermal made here, travelled as far as the United States, the UK, the Middle East, Japan, Pakistan and other countries. I had to make sure my kebabs matched up to the level of quality established here and the only judge was Umar. He tasted my kebab and said that he had never imagined that a vegetarian kebab could taste so good. He asked for another piece and I couldn’t help but smile. He asked me for the recipe and I had a mini heart attack! This was definitely my lucky day. It was dusk when I went to meet Pankaj Bhadouria, the first winner of the TV show MasterChef India, at her culinary academy in Hazrat Ganj.

  DAY 78

  22 October / Lucknow

  Today was the beginning of the Bakra Eid celebrations in Lucknow and I was excited to be a part of it here in the city itself. Let me start by talking about the Bakra Market. We saw floating markets in Kashmir, the organic markets in Punjab, and now a goat market in Lucknow. Like any good goat market, there were more goats here than people. This market had been set up for people who wanted to buy goats for Bakra Eid. Buying and sacrificing a goat is part and parcel of the festival. There were various breeds available and were priced depending on weight, height, and other parameters. The price started from Rs. 5000 and would go up to rupees three lakh. The fanciest goat I saw was surrounded by people bidding for it. It was dressed up and decorated. It was priced at Rs. 1.5 lakh because the goat was born with ‘Allah’ and ‘Mohammad’ written in Urdu on its ears! I have a feeling there was some tattooing involved, but no one cared what I thought. Thereafter, I made my way to the house of Nawab Masood Mir Abdullah, last of the Nawabi lineage of Awadh, who had invited me to celebrate Bakra Eid with him.

  Nawab Abdullah was present in his house with his brother Nawab Jafar. They greeted me with the traditional aadaab and khushamadeen. I entered their house, which had an antique old world feel to it. I sat across from them, as they explained the reason behind the celebration of Bakra Eid. They spoke with the typical Lakhnavi accent, a mix of Hindi and Urdu. They were also dressed in chikan-embroidered kurtas for the occasion, with the customary taquiyah (an Urdu word for short-rounded skullcap) on their head. They spoke slowly while chewing on their paan. After I settled down and took in all this visual information, Nawab Jafar began the story of Bakra Eid.

  ‘Almost 5000 years ago, Janabe Ibrahim, who was a messenger of God, had a vision that he was sacrificing his son for Allah. Janabe Ibrahim blindfolded himself and lay his son down on a rock. As soon as put the knife to his son’s neck a voice from heaven said, “Ibrahim, I have accepted your sacrifice, there is a goat (dumba) behind the tree (darakht). Sacrifice that instead and we will let go of your son’s sacrifice." Since then this sacrifice was termed as Bakra Eid. Goat is sacrificed, cooked and then distributed.’ The entire goat is consumed in some way or the other, which was a daunting thought for a preferred vegetarian like me.

  I forgot to mention the ornamental silver tagine-like centrepiece on the table. Called peerha or paan ki gilori, it had paan wrapped individually in silver cones. I was also offered a khazdaan, a decorated version of a spittoon. The paan spiked my appetite and I mustered up the courage to ask what we were going to eat. They told me all the food being prepared was in my honour and being cooked on a wood-fire. Before I was taken for my meal, I was told that dressing well for the meal was an essential part of eating. I also learnt that I had to understand and imbibe a few mannerisms before I ate in the company of the nawabs. I met with Nawab sahib’s wife, who gave me a whole new chikan-embroidered outfit to wear, complete with the taquiyah. They managed to get my size right and the lady, Begum Almas, had created that especially for me. Finally, I was ready to partake in the elaborate banquet that had been set up for me.

  We went to a beautiful lawn outside, where I saw at least six of the dishes being prepared. On the menu were pasanda kebabs, Lucknow biryani, mutton korma, and raan. The pasandas were being grilled on an open fire and were being basted with desi ghee. Pasandas have been on the menu since Shah Jahan’s time; very creamy, soft and flavourful. Pasanda means to like, it also denotes a prime cut of the mutton leg. The biryani was being made on the other side of the lawns. Nawab sahib said that authentic biryanis could be only had from Hyderabad. The Lucknow biryani was actually a constructed pulao, with multiple layers of rice and korma. All the breads I had seen in the alleyways of Lucknow were now at the dinner table. With such delectable food being cooked in front of me, I definitely had to jump into action. I put on my chef’s hat and decided to make Dal Sultani. It is special because of the tempering of paan.

  DAL SULTANI

  (Creamy lentils flavoured with betel leaf.)

  Ingredients

  1 cup split pigeon peas (arhar/toor dal)

  Salt to taste

  1½ tsp cumin (jeera) seeds

  1 tsp red chilli powder

  8-10 strands saffron (kesar)

  ½ cup yoghurt

  ½ cup full cream milk

  ½ cup cream 4 cloves (laung)

  4 green cardamoms (choti elaichi)

  2 tbsp clarified butter (ghee)

  5-6 cloves garlic (lasun), finely chopped

  2 green chillies, finely chopped

  10-12 fresh mint (pudina) leaves

  2 betel leaves (paan)

  2 charcoal pieces

  Method

  1. Soak the dal for 20 minutes. Strain and add to a deep pan. Add a cup of water with salt, cumin seeds and chilli powder and bring it to a boil. Now let it simmer for 15-20 minutes, until it is cooked.

  2. In the meanwhile soak saffron in one tablespoon warm milk. Whisk yoghurt, cream and milk in a bowl together. Crush or blend cloves and cardamoms together.

  3. Once the dal is cooked, let it cool down. Now mash and pass it through a sieve or you can simply blend it to a fine paste.

  4. Heat the ghee in a pan. Once hot, add garlic to it. Once garlic is lightly golden, add green chillies and the mashed dal. Cook it at medium flame for two minutes. Add the yoghurt cream mix, half the mint, clove cardamom powder, and saffron milk. Whisk nicely. Let it cook on low flame for five minutes so that everything mixes together nicely.

  5. Burn the charcoal by placing it over a high flame (till red hot).

  6. Place the betel leaves on the top surface of the simmering dal. Switch off the burner.

  7. Place the hot burning coal on top of these betel leaves.

  8. Drizzle the hot coal with a few drops of ghee. Immediately cover the saucepan tightly with a lid and keep it aside for seven to eight minutes.

  9. Remove the charcoal with the help of a tong and discard the betel leaves.

  10. Give it a final mix and serve hot, garnished with mint.

  ∼

  With the co
oking done, it was time to celebrate Eid. Nawab sahib and his family joined us in the celebrations. Just like every other part of India I have seen, the whole family came together to celebrate and eat. The evening was filled with food, poetry and conviviality. Definitely one of the best Eid celebrations of my life; this experience was up, close and personal.

  DAY 79

  I left Lucknow and its graceful andaaz (style) to go towards the land of Hindu spiritualism, Varanasi.

  DAY 80

  24 October / Varanasi

  Holiest of the seven sacred Indian cities in India, Varanasi, also called Benares, is built on the banks of the river Ganga. Also called the religious capital of India, Varanasi is home to sadhus (holy men or ascetics), saints and devotees of Lord Shiva. Varanasi is most famous for its ghats (banks), and the temple ceremonies that revolve around the Ganga. A few of the ancient Indian poets and writers lived in this city and their works were greatly inspired by the life in Varanasi. The ghats are also a place where Hindus come to cremate their loved ones and then disperse the ashes in the holy river. So not only is this ancient city a place of worship and spirituality, it is also a place when life completes a full circle. Hindus believe that to liberate your soul, after death, it is important for your soul and body to become one with the Ganga. You have to be careful here though, emotions can be played with, and the cremation can become a business affair. Be careful when you visit, it is always best to know a local or travel with someone who knows the whereabouts.

  On a lighter note, the best part of the day at the ghats is the grand aarti (a Hindu religious ritual of worship in which light from wicks soaked in ghee or camphor is offered to one or more deities). Thousands of people gather at the steps to attend it and the priests stand on an elevated platform to perform their prayer in the view of the crowds amid the electrifying sounds of bells and conch shells. Devotees let diyas and flowers float onto the river, carrying their prayers far out into the horizon. Offerings are made to the priest, in the form of coconut, milk, money, jewellery, and gold.

  The ritual is worth attending just for the sights and sounds that can spiritually overwhelm your senses, all at once. I sat on a small boat, taking it all in, watching the evening puja, strangely moved by the human and divine synthesis unfolding in front of me. You can hire a boat from the ghat, to observe the sunset and the imminent celebrations.

  I woke up at 4:30 a.m. and hired a boat to go on the Ganga. I decided that this day was important because I was going to cook, while floating atop the river. Many artists and poets have been inspired by this place and have created great pieces of art. I wanted to use the inspiration to create a dish worth the ghats of Varanasi. My producer, Anshul, first laughed off the idea. He then took up the challenge to execute the whole scene on a boat. There were two cameras, one on my boat and one on a boat floating next to me. It was a mini adventure, which turned out to be pretty successful. Even though the sunrise looks almost the same every day, this sunrise was special for all of us. We started shooting as the sun rose and the first light of the day blessed my cooking and my dish.

  After absorbing the first few rays of the sun, I got down to cooking on my little boat. Even though my boat was stationary, the waves kept hitting my boat, making chopping slightly difficult. I was preparing Kuliya Ki Chaat (Kuliya means cups). Still very inspired from the previous night’s puja and watching all the diyas floating by, I wanted to shape the vegetables like tiny buckets resembling a diya. After cooking in the mountains, on a houseboat, on the highway, in a temple, at royal palaces, I think cooking while floating on the Ganga is a first.

  KULIYA KI CHAAT

  (Vegetable and fruit cups stuffed with Indian snack.)

  Ingredients

  2 cucumbers

  2 tomatoes

  1 pineapple

  2 apples

  1 cup pomegranate kernels

  ½ cup sprouts

  1½ cup hung yoghurt

  ¼ cup roasted crushed peanuts

  ¼ cup aloo bhujia or sev

  8-10 juliennes ginger (adrak)

  2 tbsp tamarind (imli) chutney

  1½ tbsp green chutney

  2 tbsp lemon juice

  1 tsp chilli powder

  2 tsp roasted cumin (bhuna jeera) powder

  2 tsp powdered sugar

  1 tbsp chaat masala

  20 mint leaves

  Salt to taste

  Method

  1. Clean and cut the cucumbers and pineapples into even cylinders (1.5-inches tall) and core out the centres to make buckets. Bottoms should remain sealed.

  2. Half the tomatoes and core them out to make buckets as well.

  3. Cut quarters of half an apple and then scoop out triangular pockets from the top side (the side with the skin).

  4. Now store all these fruits and vegetable baskets in chilled water. Make at least 16 buckets in all.

  5. Prepare the filling for these baskets by whisking hung yoghurt and sugar together. Add cumin powder, chilli powder, mint, salt, tamarind and green chutney to it.

  6. Now, toss this yoghurt mixture with pomegranate kernels, sprouts and roasted peanuts. The filling is ready.

  7. Stuff the chilled fruits/vegetables with this filling.

  8. Now top them with aloo sev, lots of lemon juice and chaat masala. Quantities for these three are subjective to your taste.

  9. Garnish with ginger julienne.

  10. Serve chilled.

  ∼

  As you can imagine, the rhythm of the river, the ebb and flow, slowed my general life speed down to 20 km per hour. I was feeling happy and content.

  After collecting memories and blessings, I carried my culinary journey forward, into the streets of Varanasi. People of Varanasi are known for being proud of their local street food. Apparently, it all ‘originated’ here. There could be no better city in India for a foodie to excite his or her taste buds. But, be warned, this city is purely vegetarian; all your experiences will be ‘chicken free.’ The city as a whole avoids eating meat, because they believe ‘dead meat gives you dead thoughts.’ On one side are the banks and on the other are winding streets with unending options of snacks, sweets, lassi and flowers. My first stop was Jawahri Ki Kachori. It was not easy to find, though if you ask around, everyone knows and helps. The set-up was very similar to that of Mr. Bajpai’s in Lucknow. The cooks of the shop were sitting cross-legged on an elevated platform of the store, while patrons were waiting in line for the kachoris, which were actually a version of puri, served with aloo sabzi (potato curry). The interesting part was that there was a pattal for the sabzi and puris served separately on a leaf. An enthusiastic gentleman came forward to show me how to hold both the puris and sabzi with my left hand, while eating with my right hand.

  I struck up a conversation with Sudhir, the gentleman who helped me figure my kachoris out. He told me that the shop was the oldest in Varanasi. It had been around for ages and that he visited the shop almost every week. These breads were stuffed with dal. Also, they were absolutely dry, versus being the usual oily puris that one eats with sabzi, which was one of their biggest USPs. The sabzi had three distinct flavours: saunf (fennel or aniseed), kasoori methi (dry fenugreek leaves), and elaichi (cardamom). Even better was the little surprise in the sabzi; the jackfruit kofta took me by surprise. It was delicious. Like Sudhir said, the puri had an urad dal (black gram) stuffing, making it a kachori. After shamelessly devouring four, I still felt hungry. My stomach was full but my heart was not content, something all of us have heard in the Hindi saying, ‘Peth bhar gaya, par neeyat nahi bhari.’

  Luckily for me, it took all but one second for me to be distracted by the kadhai on my left. The kadhai was full of hot oil and it had a massive honeycomb-like jalebi inside it. The difference was that it was called jaleba, only because of its size. It was all of two kilograms, frying solo in the kadhai. These are made of fermented gram flour that is piped in concentric circles into hot oil. Once they become fluffy and crispy, they are soaked in sugar sy
rup (chashni) that has been flavoured with saffron and cardamom. Another surprising fact about the making of the jaleba is that they don’t weigh out the portion that they are going to fry. It is a free flow feeling that decides the size of the jaleba. They then break it up, into rough pieces and see it by the plate. For Rs. 15, I had one of the tastiest meals I had ever had.

  As if by default, my next instinct was to drink lassi. My stomach had grown a few inches and my body struggled to make space for my next visit. I went looking for it and found Mr. Blue Lassi Wala. As a chef, I immediately was trying to decode the use of blue in the shop title. I was thinking it was grapes, or some fruit syrup, or even the colour. As soon as I reached the shop, I realised that the blue was to denote the colour of the shop, and not the colour of the drink. Mr. Vikas Yadav, the present owner of the shop, told me that his shop was the first in Varanasi. His grandfather, who was a TV actor, set this shop up 70 years ago.

  He has been deemed one the best lassi walas in the country. The recipes haven’t changed, the shop hasn’t changed, and even the taste remains the same as it was initially. He had 70 different varieties of lassi. Vikas used all old school equipment to make his lassi. He used a brass urn in which he churned the liquid using a wooden spoon with a flat bottom that he rolled between his palms. He mashed the fruit into the lassi using this spoon. The ingredients were home-style thick yoghurt, sugar, two layers of fresh malai. He garnished his lassi with whatever fruit was mixed in it, with an addition of pistachios. Unlike a lot of shops in the city, this one had an adjacent area for seating. Watching him make lassi, sitting in a small area of the shop, was picture-worthy. You would be surprised how many foreigners were patrons of the shop. The ratio was almost 8:2; once inside, it was hard to understand whether I was in Varanasi or Venice. Let me also mention that you need a spoon to have your lassi. Once the first few dollops are ingested, you could start sipping on the thick lassi. It isn’t too sugary, but the sweetness comes from the fruit added. Once you start drinking it, you almost forget about the jalebi. I tried the pomegranate lassi and the banana chocolate, after which I could not do anything else. It was a lovely day: I cooked, I ate, I ate, and I ate. Now it was time for a nap and to digest whatever I had stuffed myself with since the morning.