telugu valla kodalu telugu pilla

Ours is a vegetarian household in the Pacific Northwest; we are an extended family living together, with ages ranging from sixties to six; we are adventurous eaters, and always looking for something new to try, but we have to temper the heat a bit for the little one, and the more outlandish concoctions for the oldest one :-)

When I say vegetarian, I of course mean Indian vegetarian (using dairy); we do occasionally use and eat eggs inside dishes.

I have never liked writing down recipes - there is so much redundancy. First listing ingredients, then naming them again as they get used in the method, and then needing to identify mixtures by their ingredients when combining with other mixtures.

Then I stumbled across Cooking for Engineers and the moment that I saw their tabular method of presenting recipes, I fell in love with the technique.

I realize that some people would find this method non-intuitive and difficult to follow, but for me as an engineer, and all my fellow scientists, mathematicians and so forth out there, this is the ideal way to present a recipe! I have posted an entry explaining how to read the recipe if you need a little help to get started; you can see it here.

- Sivani

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The question is always where to draw the line between giving enough information and going on and on and on and ...
I have been having great fun reading responses to the Fantastic Four Meme that has been going around. Being relatively new to the food blog world, I found this a great opportunity to learn a little more of my fellow bloggers than those cryptic little "About" pages tell me.

Then I got tagged by Rajitha from Hunger Pangs, and I thought that this would be an interesting way to expand my "About" page.

(The actual entry can be found here)

My Fantastic Four Meme

4 Places I Have Lived (in no particular order)
• Rustenburg, South Africa
• Fargo, North Dakota
• IIT Madras Campus
• Portland, Oregon area

4 Jobs I Had
• Nanny (while a student)
• Cricket Scorer on television
• Curriculum Developer and Lecturer for Computer Training Concern
• R&D Engineer

4 Favorite Places I Have Holidayed
(This is our joint list.
My list of places before marriage would be a little different)
• London
• Delhi
• Cape Town
• New York

4 Favorite Foods
(I'm cheating royally here; then again, it's my meme...)
• Andhra Thali: panasa pottu kura; gutti vankaya kura; tomato pappu; pappu pulusu; charu; pulihora; bobbattlu; avakayi; gongura pacchadi; dosa avakayi; appadam; vadiyalu; paramannam
• Kimchee Jigae
• Desserts: Basundi, Potharekulu, Chocolate Mousse, Mysore Pak (from Saravana Bhavan), hot Jalebi
• Drinks: Fresh lime soda, Madras coffee, Ginger lemon chai

4 Favorite Places I Would Rather Be
• In an armchair next to a fireplace reading a book and watching a storm on the ocean
• Graduating, instead of still working towards the Masters
• In Nalli's with a blank check in my bag
• Always with the one I love

Browsing through some Indian cooking blogs, I came across a Bengali dish from Bong Mom's Cookbook that looked so delectable I could almost feel my eyes water as the pungent mustard rose to the back of my nose. There was a catch though: the dish was fish-based.

I couldn't pass up that fragrant sauce, so I started considering how to adapt this for vegetarian consumption. Sandeepa first fried the fish, and I thought that step an integral part of the recipe, creating the wonderful texture. In a flash of inspiration I had the answer - the typical Andhra dry fry potatoes (bangaladumpa vepudu) would be ideal for this dish. (Well, I am sure it exists in many of the other regional cuisines, but I know it as an Andhra dish of course.)

Once I figured out that bit, the rest was simply a case of following the remainder of Sandeepa's recipe.

Continuing the browsing through Bong Mom's Cookbook, I came across an intriguing recipe for "Tetor Dal" or Bitter Dhal. Sandeepa's recipe calls for bottle gourd and bitter gourd; none of us are over-fond of kakarakayi - especially not the six year-old. We do however love akakarakayi - kantola - which has a similar texture when prepared the right way, and has a hint of bitterness though nowhere near as much as kakarakayi proper.

In preparing the recipe, I made three further changes: first, we had some fresh ridge gourd, but no bottle gourd, so I substituted that; second,because we love the taste and texture of crispy fried akakarakayi I fried up an extra handful that we lightly salted and added to the pappu at the table; last, we found the recipe upon completion to be quite liquidy. Our pappu preparations are usually a bit thicker than that, so I put it in a kadhai and reduced it a little over heat.

When we make this recipe again (and believe me, this one is a keeper), I will not reduce it quite as much, trying for the happy mean.

One of our favorite breakfasts is a poha and potato pulihora, so when we were browsing through the JFI for Rice roundup on Sharmi's blog, Neivedyam, there was one preparation that loudly called out: "Make me, taste me!"

This turned out to be Raji's Puffed Rice Upma or Maramaralu Upma from Talimpu.

We made this one by the book, only bringing down the heat with fewer chillies (so that the six year old would eat it too) and adding the coriander leaves for a punch of freshness. We served it with kara podi and green chillies so each could adjust their own heat at the table.

Now, do note that this is indeed a very light meal - all the air in the puffed rice inflates the volume while keeping the density low; if you wanted to serve a more substantial breakfast, you might want to accompany it by at least one other item such as idli or even just toast. This is ideal as part of a tiffin spread, and the taste is lively and fresh, sure to tempt the palate on even the hottest of summer days.

When you visit India after a long time away, people want to treat you to something special: I frequently get asked what my favorite dish is, what food I missed most while being away.

The answer is easy: panasa pottu kura - green jackfruit fry!

I guess it starts with my love of the pungency of mustard - not the American innocuous bright yellow liquid with vinegar and sugar, but the eye-watering, sinus-clearing heat of real mustard seeds. This is the reason I love the tartness and the heat of dosavakaya and also the reason why I couldn't resist Sandeepa's recipe - why I had to find a way to adapt it to a vegetarian dish (see Andhra Twist earlier).

But to get back to the recipe at hand: for a long time in the US the only option has been to use green jackfruit in cans; I hate the taste and texture of canned jackfruit though, and so I have never considered that to be a viable option. Then I found frozen green jackfruit, and suddenly panasa pottu kura became a real option again. Granted, the taste and texture can never be the same as the fresh version, but this bears a real resemblance to it.

Part of the chopped jackfruit, turmeric and salt

Now, trying to capture a recipe when you cook with the measurements by feel is not an easy task, so I found one on ammas that had the right proportions.

However, as you who are in the US no doubt know, most of the mustard seeds we get here seem to lack the required pungency, trading it in for bitterness instead. So, I add a smidgen of Chinese mustard powder to the mustard seed and lemon juice paste; you will need to try and see how much you would need.

We've had an unusually cool summer here (something for which I am very thankful); this meant that all the vegetables and other crops were behind in their growth cycles, and so harvest time came later than usual.

About a mile northeast from our house is a vegetable farm offering U-Pick i.e. you can pick your own vegetables from their fields, take it to their stall and have it weighed to pay by weight. No hothouse vegetables, no ripening in artificial conditions, just fresh, ripe vegetables on your plate that were still growing this morning.

With the nip of autumn in the air early mornings and at night, we decided to try a hearty soup with our freshly harvested bounty, and this recipe from 1000 Vegetarian Recipes From Around the World seemed just the ticket; for one thing, it looked as if their ingredients-list was written while checking off the items we brought home from the farm!

Of course, we take most recipes as merely a suggestion - I might be more guilty of that than my chellelu, which is why she is a better baker than I - so we adjusted the proportions toward more tomatoes and onions, but fewer capsicum and less garlic.

The general principle is this: roast the vegetables, then roughly chop them. Add them to vegetable stock, season and simmer until the flavors are blended. The recipe calls for a quarter cup of cream to be stirred into the soup when it is removed from the heat; our household was split on that however, so we placed a creamer on the table and let each person add to taste - if at all. Also on the table, a block of parmesan and a grater, and chilli flakes.

Onions, tomatoes, zucchini, bell pepper and brinjal starting to take on color
spread out on the roasting pan, drizzled with olive oil and herbs The magic part comes from a familiar quarter to us, but a new one to this kind of cuisine. Who says that tempering can only be applied to Indian food?

I use olive oil for this dish (since it used olive oil throughout). After heating the oil, I added a few black peppercorns that I have crushed, a broken red chilli and a pinch of the herbs mentioned earlier. I use fresh rosemary, so a little goes a long way because the fresh flavor is a lot more intense than the dried one. Adding this to the soup just before bringing it to the table intensifies the wonderful flavors.

Some notes and hints:

Do not crowd the vegetables on the baking sheet while roasting it; leave space around each piece so it can brown all around.

If you have a barbecue grill outside, feel free to roast any or all the vegetables out there; they have if anything an even more intense flavor.

Appetizer platter from MilestonesFirst, a word of apology for the quality of the pictures for this entry - both were taken on my cell phone under challenging lighting conditions inside restaurants at night.

At the end of August, my husband and I cashed in some frequent flyer miles, and took advantage of a great hotel deal to spend a week up in Vancouver, BC.

We stayed right downtown, surrounded by restaurants; while they were predominantly East Asian, there were some general North American restaurants too, as well as some dedicated to other ethnic cuisines.

We tended to lunch lightly, and then to look for something more substantial - and slightly upmarket - for dinner. The situation for vegetarians in BC seems to be pretty much the same as here: there are a couple of items on most menus that would fit the bill, but generally nothing that really justifies the cost on par with the meat-based items.

The evening of our first full day we ventured out a little later than we would usually look for dinner; we had returned to the hotel after our sight-seeing expedition earlier, and had taken a relaxing siesta. We wandered down Robson street, reading menus in windows or stands, until finally our feet and our tummies started complaining, so we turned into a place called Milestones. Our entreés were nice enough, but it is the appetizer platter we shared that deserved a special mention, from the lovely presentation to the adventurous combination of flavors and textures.

Their menu described it as:
"BAKED GOAT CHEESE & SLOW-ROASTED GARLIC:
Warm garlic flatbread, spiced cranberry relish, roasted corn and onion salsa, fresh papaya and roasted red pepper salsa"

The goat cheese had been rolled in black poppy seeds, lending a crunch under your teeth in contrast to the rich, creamy cheese; its mild flavor was contrasted in turn by the smoke of the fire-roasted corn, the tart bite of the cranberries, and the rich, slightly sweetness of the papaya salsa. The whole house of garlic - though clearly roasted until soft and sweet - was left untouched by us; not our favorite taste.

Mosaic's Chocolate Cake dessertNow fast forward to our final evening in Vancouver. We had been saving up a chocolate experience for a last treat. We had a coupon to a place called Death by Chocolate or we could go to the Chocoholic Buffet at the Sutton Place hotel.

After some deliberation, we decided on Death by Chocolate, because I thought there was no way I could do justice to a $24.00 chocolate buffet, and my husband (who is only an occasional chocolate eater - a rank amateur) even less so. So, off we set, only to find that it is no longer at that address (part of the building was under construction). Desperately disappointed, we wandered around a little listlessly until we decided to return and try our hotel's restaurant.

"Nice, but vastly over-priced" would just about sum up our entreés there; determined to have at least some chocolate that evening, I ordered their chocolate cake dessert. I did notice the unusual pricing: "$7.00, but $15.00 if dessert only or take out."

And then it came to the table. Oh. My. Goodness! I could just mumble "No, no, no" while the waiter set down the huge cake in front of me. I thought he had brought the wrong thing; I very earnestly explained that I had meant to order the $7 and not the $15 thing. He told me that it is the same thing, but you have to eat dinner in the restaurant to get it at $7.00. The (very loud American) people at the next table piped up: "Are you gonna eat all that?!"

Now, take out your rulers or measuring tape (that's what we did): The cake was 6"x6" and 9" tall. Yes, not a typo; check the (horribly poor quality) picture. It consisted of dense, moist chocolate cake layered with ganache, and covered in melted chocolate shell.

We shared a slice perhaps an inch thick, and couldn't quite finish it. The restaurant was clearly used to people needing to carry this out, though, because they had a perfect box for it. So, home we carried it, on a lap in the 'plane (it was one of those little prop planes) and presented the rest of the family at home with something they appreciated far more than the souvenirs we brought.

And the cake? The whole family had dessert for three days!

I couldn't resist this recipe for Masala Bread when we saw it on Coffee's blog a little while ago, so we duly bookmarked it and put it on our list of things to try.

The way we normally work with online recipes is to print out a copy when we want to try it. We then stick it on the refrigerator with a magnet while we are cooking, and when we are done, we make annotations directly onto the printed sheet. If it turned out not so great - or if we just didn't particularly like it - it usually ends in "File 13." On the other hand, if we did like it, it goes into our folder filled with other recipes printed from online sources, categorized by type.

If we really, really liked it, it goes right in the front of the folder, along with a handful of other favorites.

Well, a few days ago we had a build-up of bread that was a couple of days old; not really appealing for sandwiches, but still perfectly fine otherwise: the perfect conditions to try out "Breakfast at The Spice Café!"

We followed the recipe pretty much as written, and boy, was this finger-lickin' good! We served it with homemade ginger chutney, and we couldn't keep our plates filled; even the picky six year-old kept asking for more.

When we do it again, we would most definitely make the recipe at least double, if not more. This is very light, and would be best if it was not the only item on the table - unless of course the object is to have a very light meal.

This is the kind of recipe that has such great basic structure that one can endlessly improvise on it; we look forward to doing just that in future. Thanks Coffee for a wonderful addition to our permanent recipe folder - no need to say that it is right in the front among the favorites.

This is my entry for the Weekend Breakfast Blogging event, No. 15.

I thought that this would be a good time to show how to read the tabular recipes at the same time as showing how to make these delectable bajjis using up some leftover rice and a standard can of cream style corn.

The full recipe card is at the bottom of the post. For clarity during the explanation, I have cut it in two, and brightly colored each block so that you can follow along. Refer to the full recipe card to see how everything fits together. (Also note that clicking on any image will bring up a larger image, so you can see things in greater detail.)

Starting at the top left, the blue block tells us our first step: take the ingredients to its left (i.e. two cups of cold cooked leftover rice) and spread it out on a plate; this is to make sure that it is dry, not clammy, and to separate out the grains.

Moving to the right, we see that the yellow block spans the lavender block below the blue one as well, so we know we have to complete the stuff in the lavender block before we can move on to the yellow block. The lavender block contains the maida and other dry ingredients, including some spices. These have to be mixed together well.

Now we can move on to the yellow block, which mixes the rice and the flour mixture (blue and lavender blocks) together. This is a very important step, because the flour mixture coats each grain of rice to keep them separate; if you first mixed the wet and dry ingredients together, and then tried to add the rice you would end up with a rice mush, and if you first added the rice to the wet ingredients, and then tried to mix that with the dry, you would have a terrible time trying to get rid of the lumps.

Moving on to the next block, we see that the rose block extends beyond the yellow, so we go back to the next block below the lavender, i.e. the peach block, before moving on to the burnt orange block to its right. The peach block has some preparation instructions for the vegetables, and then everything should be mixed all together with the contents of the can of cream style corn.

The white block below just contains milk, and now finally we have all the parts that are needed to proceed with the rose block, which requires us to mix everything thoroughly. Now we can move on to the next section below.

Glancing through the steps, it becomes obvious that we are making a tempering, a tadka or a popu or a talimpu. Soaking the dhals for a few minutes in water (lavender block) before adding to the tempering ensures that they will fry up to a crispy crunch under the teeth; slicing the curry leaves (blue block) will help them disperse their flavor evenly through the batter.

So, we follow the familiar path in creating the tempering: heat the oil in a small pan, add the seeds (rose block), wait for them to splutter, then add the dhal (burnt orange block), and when these start to brown, we add the curry leaves (green block)

What remains now - if we look at the full recipe card below - is to combine tempering with the flour-rice-sweetcorn-milk mixture, and then to start shallow frying spoonsful of the batter. We've found the best heat to be somewhere between medium and medium high, but each stove differs, so play around with it a little. You want the outsides to become golden brown and crispy, while the insides should be cooked through and creamy when you taste it.

We served it with homemade ginger chutney, but it would go well with most other chutneys as well.

This month's Microwave Easy Cooking event focuses on the basics. And you can't get much more basic than White Sauce, nor can you easily find something more versatile when you venture into the world of western cooking.

Update: You can see the other entries for the event in the round-up on Srivalli's Cooking 4 All Seasons.

From the standard "continental" or au gratin dishes in India that consists of some boiled vegetables with a bland white sauce poured over it and stuck under the grill, to your basic grown-up macaroni and cheese or greek moussaka, once you have mastered a white sauce, a world of options open up to you.

Now, I say "master" because many people are scared of trying to make a white sauce; they have been told how easily lumps form, how you have to watch it like a hawk and keep stirring madly all the time. But with a microwave it is easy to get a perfect white sauce every time, with very little effort.

Remember: each model of microwave is different; the times are given as a general guide, and will differ from model to model.

You start to get an inkling of how simple this is when you look at what you need: just 5 things.

Equipment:

Microwave proof dish holding at least 4 cups - I use my Pyrex measuring cup

Wire whisk - this is very important

Ingredients:

2 Tbsp butter

2-4 Tbsp flour

~2 cups milk

	Note: Click on the pictures to see (much) larger images. The first step is to place the butter into the vessel, and microwave on high for 30 seconds or until the butter is melted.
	Add two tablespoons of flour to the melted butter, and whisk it in until all the butter is absorbed. Now here you have a choice, depending on how thick you want the final product to be. If you stop adding flour now, your base (roux, pronounced roo) will look like the picture on the left. If you add two more tablespoons of flour, it will look like the picture on the right. Either way, you proceed the same from here on.
	You now need to add the milk; slowly. Start with roughly four tablespoons of milk, and start mixing slowly. Once all the liquid has been absorbed, add a little more this time. Keep whisking gently, and you should end up with a pliable mass. Now you can add more milk in a stream while whisking, until the volume in the vessel is about 1 cup, and everything is mixed thoroughly without lumps.
	Place the vessel back in the microwave and turn it on high for about 3 minutes. When the time is up, look at the contents: it should look as in the picture on the left i.e. there should be a semi-solid rim of slightly darker yellow, and some portion of more liquid, whiter sauce in the center. If it does not look like that yet, put it back in the microwave for another 90 seconds at a time. Keep checking and cooking for another 90 seconds until it starts to resemble the picture. Once it reaches that stage, whisk it, breaking up the semi-solid rim and mixing through the liquid part; the result will look like the picture on the right.
	Now add the rest of the milk, slowly as above, i.e. first a very small quantity, and once you've whisked that in, a bit more, and finally the whole lot. You will now have a liquid with some substance, about the consistency of good dosa batter. Place this back in the microwave, for 3 minutes on high. Check and stir, then return to the microwave for 3 minutes more; after this do 90 seconds at a time, until the sauce has thickened.

What did I use this particular white sauce for, I hear you ask? I made a quick supper dish of Spinach and Pasta Bake.

I sweated a chopped onion and a slit green chilli in oil in a kadhai after I had spluttered some mustard seeds, and when they became translucent, I added chopped spinach that had been thawed from frozen and squeezed dry. Once the spinach was heated through, and had picked up the flavors from the kadhai, I added some homemade tomato sauce. (You can use your favorite recipe, or just use some bottled pasta sauce. This is also the time to add your favorite veggie protein like "cooked" Nutrella chunks if you want to make the meal more substantial).

I mixed in two cups cooked macaroni, and after tossing it through, I scooped in the white sauce and mixed well. After checking and adjusting the seasoning, I stirred in a luscious amount of cheddar cheese, and let the ooey-gooey goodness melt in there. You can serve it at this point or (as I did) place it in an oven-proof dish (e.g. corningware), sprinkle some more cheese on top, followed by some breadcrumbs, and place it under the broiler to get a lovely crisp crust.