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.

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.

The weekend turned rainy, and we hardly saw any blue sky at all. By the time Saturday afternoon rolled around we were all in need of a little pick-me-up. That's when I remembered Raji of Talimpu's wonderful recipe a few days ago for Aratikaya Bajji Chat.

What could be better on a gloomy day than the golden color of bajji with the taste of sunshine inside, mixed with the freshness of the onion, chilli and coriander leaves that will explode in your mouth?

So, off to my bookmarks, pulled up the recipe and printed it out (if you haven't yet tried it, you should take a look at Raji's cool "Print" button that creates a copy perfect for printing), then downstairs to start the preparation.

Like many other favorite recipes, this one is simplicity itself, relying on the innate flavors of the ingredients and their interaction with one another to produce a great-tasting result.

The first part of the recipe calls for making little golden coins of plantain bajji. That is simple enough, and the bajji were good enough just like that that we were sorely tempted to forget the rest of the recipe and eat them right then!

We had a little bit of the batter left, and no more plantain, so we sliced thin discs of zucchini and made bajji of them as well. Those we did eat right away - after all, you can stand only so much temptation, don't you think?

Ingredients for the chatNext we filled the kitchen with the aroma of roasting peanuts - I lightly stomp them with mortar and pestle first to split them in half, but not so hard as to break them into little pieces. After letting them cool, I rubbed them lightly between my palms to loosen the skins, and went out onto the deck to blow them away. The old ways still work the best!

Mixing it in a large bowl with the chopped bajji, we could already tell it was going to be a winner. We added a few pinches of chat masala at this stage, just before squeezing over the lemon.

On the plateI didn't bother making tamarind chutney for this, but used a lovely store-bought tamarind-date chutney instead. What I did make was just a quick yogurt sauce: on 1.5 cups of yogurt I added half a teaspoon each of cumin powder and coriander powder, a quarter teaspoon each of black pepper and red chilli powder, and salt to taste. After stirring it up, we served it over the chat to complete the experience.

Simple and brilliant! Thanks Raji for the recipe.

So there I was on Friday night, thinking desperately what to serve the family for dinner at such a late stage, and the idea of Rajitha's Dhal Banjari presented itself (see previous post). That was a huge relief, but then the question of what to accompany it remained.

Now, ideally I would have rounded out the Rajasthani meal with makki ki roti, but coming home so late, I wasn't really looking forward to rolling roti. So I started free-associating, and ended up turning rava idli into corn idli.

I mean, why not?

The concept basically involved replacing some of the wheat rava with corn rava, and adding corn kernels to the mixture. The important thing to note here is that in the US, much of the corn rava (and corn flour) that is available is the so-called "hominy" kind. The adjective hominy is applied to corn when the bran and germ has been removed by soaking it in a lye solution. Many people (especially in the South) grow up eating it and loving the taste.

Personally, I cannot stand it, and when I buy any corn flour or corn rava, I check to make sure that it isn't hominy, or I just won't buy it.

For defrosting the corn (or any vegetables for that matter) I believe in placing it in a bowl and adding cold tap water to it (well, filtered water in India of course). After a few minutes, I might give it a little stir to encourage some of the clumps to break up and if it is a dense vegetable, I might change the water once.

But I never, never put hot water on the frozen vegetables - unless of course I intend to cook them that way. Counter-intuitively, cool water defrosts items much more quickly than hot (think of the inverse square law) and it doesn't spoil the texture of the food.

For this recipe you could replace the frozen corn with a can of whole corn kernels, well drained. Of course, if you are in the lucky position of having fresh corn on the cob to hand, slice off the kernels until you have a cup full, and then boil them quickly for three minutes and drain well.

Traditionally rava idli recipes call for baking soda (also known as bicarbonate of soda, soda bicarb etc.); this reacts with the acid in the curds and forms the leavening of the batter.

The problem with baking soda is that just a little too much (or a little unevenly mixed in) soda turns the mixture brown with a horrible brackish taste. So, I replace the baking soda with baking powder which is a much more stable and reliable mixture, needing only liquid as a catalyst since it has all the reagents in itself.

If you insist on using baking soda instead, and if you are better than I am in controlling it, this amount of rava and curds would usually take a quarter of a teaspoon of baking soda.

The amount in this mixture was enough to make four plates of idli.

This is so easy, it can't really be called a recipe.

But first, let me set the scene. The nearest decent Indian grocery store is about 40 miles from where we live. Oh, there are a few within a couple of miles of our house, but they are small, poorly stocked, and ridiculously expensive, so we use them only for emergencies.

So, when we tackle the 80 mile round trip to the decent grocery stores, we normally stock up for quite a while, getting some frozen Indian vegetables along with the dhals, spices, tea (dh drinks only Taj Mahal), rice etc. They have lovely fresh vegies as well, but we have to be careful to take only as much as we can eat before it will spoil. The other "fresh" indulgence we have is buying some of the fresh batters - Idli Mavu, Dosa Mavu etc., packed in containers the size and shape of yoghurt containers. (I don't have a wet grinder, and my texture is never quite the same as the "real" thing).

Anyway, on the weekend, people were clamoring for something different, and so I thought to use these fresh batters in a different way. I took three parts idli batter to one part dosa batter, mixed it together and called it uthappam batter.

Chopped half an onion, two small tomatoes, and defrosted half a cup up frozen peas.

I made some full-size uthappam, but then started making a few of the smaller ones. They were so cute, and it had the advantage that everyone could get a hot one at the same time, that I just continued this way. And of course, Angel Face loved the idea of "mini-uthappam."

Don't you just hate it when you're eating a dosa or uthappam that by the time you get to the last half it is already cold? This way you can finish the whole thing before it starts cooling down.

Note: One thing I do with my uthappam that is not quite the usual thing: before I take them out of the pan I flip them over for a few seconds. That makes sure that it really is cooked all the way through, and the extra heat on the tomato, onion and peas make a big difference to their taste.

Srivalli made these wonderful rice parathas for the WBB Breakfast from Leftovers roundup. We knew as soon as we saw it that this would be a recipe we would like to try; a week or so later, we did indeed try it. And we absolutely loved it.

We did have a few challenges in trying to make it, the chief one being that I don't have cast-iron fingers. This meant that I wanted a batter that could be spread with the back of a spoon onto the hot tava, instead of pressed with my fingers. This meant adding water bit by bit until I got the right consistency. But making the batter that thin meant that the parathas lacked body, so I added a little baking powder to give it body and lightness.

Now it is all very well to fiddle once with a recipe; the big challenge is to see whether you can now follow your altered recipe from scratch and end up with satisfactory results. (In other words, the family was clamoring to have me make these again).

So this past weekend I did. And we loved the result. Since I am confessing here, I will tell you that first, we didn't have leftover rice, we made "leftover" rice; i.e. on Saturday night we cooked some rice with the express intent to use it on Sunday for these parathas! Second, I tripled the recipe, and there was barely enough to everyone's satisfaction.

What would I change? When I tripled the recipe, I didn't quite triple the onion. That was a mistake - the onion plays an important role in the taste of this dish, and you could even add more. If you like heat, you could also add sliced rings of green chilli to the batter.

This past weekend we took the opportunity to get up late one morning, cuddling a bit longer under the warm covers before facing the chilly day.

Rather more in the mood for comfort than experimentation, we returned to familiar recipes to make a brunch that fitted the mood perfectly.

The first item we selected was the Sweetcorn and Rice Fritters I entered last month for WBB; it is a firm family favorite, and the reason why we always make sure when we do grocery shopping that we have a supply of cream style corn.

Then, since we wanted this to be a substantial brunch as opposed to a light snack, we wanted to add a kura to it. Trying to come up with something that has both protein and vegetables in it, our thoughts very easily turned to the Chickpea and Potato Curry since everyone loved it. This time, for a little variation, we used some great northern beans instead of the chickpeas. It worked well, although I think I still prefer the chickpea version.

And so, we all had happy tummies with warm and delicious food inside, and we all lived happily ever after (at least for the rest of the weekend).

The End.

:-)

Suppose you have an Oreo cookie and a chocolate brownie. The Oreo is nice enough, right? Stuffing in the middle, chocolatey biscuit on the outside. But then you have the rich lush gooey, melt-in-your-mouth, sweet-behind-your-ears total yumminess of a good brownie. Can you picture that? (More importantly, can you taste that?)

Now, you might prefer Oreos, or you might be a brownie addict; whichever it is, you will agree that you cannot (and should not) call an Oreo cookie a brownie.

Good. Having got that straight, here's my problem with bhatura. The bhatura recipes that I have result in delicious-tasting stuff, but it is not bhatura. For me, bhatura are thicker and more "doughy" or "spongy" than puri (and in most cases much larger, but that is an externally controllable factor).

The recipe I use however results in a very crisp and brittle end-result. It is not doughy at all, and it bends only a little, so it is not easy to eat chole with it. It tastes very nice, but it is not the delicious full-bodied hotel bhatura that I crave.

I think part of the problem is that I have never actually cooked with a North Indian in the kitchen. I've cooked with lots of Telugu women obviously, some Tamilians and a few Kannadigas, but no-one from the north. I've never first-hand seen the dough, touched it to feel its texture and elasticity so that I can strive to reproduce it.

And then I am using the recipe of a southerner to boot! Most of us know and love the series of small books by Mrs. S. Mallika Badrinath. Most of her recipes are great basic jump-off points for all sorts of South Indian food. I personally use this particular book, "Tiffin Varieties" for many of its other recipes. But its bhatura recipe just does not yield bhatura.

So I am appealing to all of you out there in the blogosphere: please take pity on this poor confused woman, and tell me how to make those delicious spongy bhaturas! I will even do a mini "Bhatura Roundup" if you post them on your blogs; if you've posted a great recipe in the past, post the link to that to me.

This is not an event, it is sheer desperation, but I do want to acknowledge anyone who takes the time to help me out.

Below is the recipe from "Tiffin Varieties" that I am currently using. Try it - it is really very tasty - it should just be called something else!

Bhatura - III
2 heaped cups maida
3 pinches cooking soda
3/4 tsp salt
1.5 tsp oil
- blended together

1/2 cup thick curds
1/4 cup milk
- mixed

Knead liquid into dough. If necessary add more milk.
Keep closed for 2-3 hours