Chickpea flour pancakes

This morning was a little rushed, so I did a batch of mini Besan Puda. The recipe from Manjula's Kitchen is what I used as inspiration. I added lots of garlic (chickpeas love garlic), grated potato, and grated carrot. I used the smallest holes on the grater so that the veggies cook quickly.

Leftover pilaf

I'm home, and looking to get dinner knocked out fast. In with some onions and garlic, some frozen peas, frozen corn, leftover chickpeas I had from earlier this week, some cashews, leftover coconut rice, some steamed quinoa I had use somewhere else, extra hot chili powder, some curry powder, and a dash of gingelly oil. It very good, for being a bunch of odds and ends I had lying around.

Leftovers pancake

Last night, as I put away the results of a shopping trip to the Indian store, I was left with tiny amounts of each daal I had bought. I like to store my daal in glass bottles so that they don't get bigs. It means that I always have a tiny bit that will not fit into the bottle.

Instead of finding a bunch of tiny jars, I decided to soak them all overnight and make a batch of adai. This batch has toor daal, urad daal, mung beans, cracked barley, brown rice, poha, and masoor daal (red lentil) soaked overnight in cold water. The next morning, I ground it in the blender with salt, red pepper flakes, coconut, curry leaf, and some water.

They taste amazing.

Breakfast

Puri and red lentil daal.

Tradition!

I was having a discussion with my friend Kate when she was over here enjoying some food I had just cooked. She mentioned that even though she is vegan, she still has a soft spot for those things that she enjoyed eating when she was growing up. Food has powerful connections to it, above and beyond nourishment. Those foods you ate as a child that gave you comfort will hold a powerful connection for you. However, as Kate mentioned so eloquently, "Just because I want to still enjoy that food doesn't mean that someone else should have to suffer for it." Well put, Kate. So she, in her home, tends to actively seek out omni subs all the time, and is on a quest to recreate those memories, textures, tastes, and feelings while still holding true to her moral convictions.

Mind you, Kate isn't "one of those". Her spice cabinet is very well stocked. Her mind (and mouth) are both open to new experiences. When she was here, I was cranking out random weird South Indian dishes that most people hadn't heard of before (because most Indian restaurants focus on North Indian dishes), and she was cheerfully eating them. She absolutely loves vegetables of every shape and size. She takes genuine pleasure in all foods, be they the memories of yesterday, or experiments of the present and future. 

I said all that to share this story with you. My friend Joanna's husband Mark comes from a very large family in upstate New York. They're a rather close-knit family, headed by one of the sweetest matriarchs you could ever hope to meet. I would like to introduce you to the gentle, the kind, the ever-patient Suzanne. She sent me a message on 25 March. I'll let her say it in her own words. 

Hi, Dino. Mark's mom here. I have a vegan cooking question, and thought you might be able to help me. For years I have made a pineapple torte for our Easter dinner. The recipe uses gelatin, but now that we have several vegan/vegetarian family members, I'm trying to find an alternative that will still set nicely while not compromising the convictions of my loved ones. Any suggestions? Thanks so much in advance for any assistance you can give me. I hope we'll able to meet both you and Stephen on one of our next visits to Mark and Joanna.

I got a little misty-eyed, but was overall rather touched by her desire to respect the morals of her children. I thought that was a wonderful thought.

Hi Suzanne, Clearly, you are even more compassionate and kind than even your wonderful sons and daughter-in-law have mentioned! What a lovely way to continue traditions, but make everyone feel included! I have such an incredible amount of respect and warm feelings towards you and your family, because of the love that you all share with each other, and this is just one more example of that love. Thank you for reaching out to me. Mark and Joanna talk about you all the time, and about how what a pleasure it is to be in your presence. I hope to some day share in that too! 

I have found that agar tends to replace gelatine quite closely, though not exactly. It'll get very close, though. The Japanese have a long tradition of making vegan gelatine desserts, which they call Kanten. It seems like it's fairly pricey (and it is), but a little goes a long way. At work, we buy the stuff by the pound, and it lasts a long time. 

The beauty of agar is that if it ends up too firm (as it will do the first time you use it), you can melt it down and it sets right up again! I was so amazed by this that I thought that my boss was pulling a cheat on me somehow, but sure enough, it worked out when I tried it myself too! Who knew, right? As with anything where you're working with new ingredients, experiment with a little bit first, to see how the stuff behaves. 

Most of the Internet swears up and down that you can use it interchangeably with the amounts you'd use for gelatine, but I don't think that's the case, from how we've used it at work. I've found it especially effective in baking, when I want a bit of firming up, without adding cornstarch, and keeping the gel jewel-clear. For example, when making the cherry topping for the vegan cheesecakes we make at work, agar makes the fruit stay put. When you have finished setting up the agar (it sets up at room temperature, for the record, so no need to refrigerate unless you want to hurry it along), it'll stay solid for a long time. I remember using agar when I was running gel electrophoresis in genetics lab. It was endlessly amusing to see how the stuff held its shape no matter what you threw at it! Hope this helps a bit in your cooking adventures!
Dino

It had taken me a day or so to respond, because I had to double-check with my boss if pineapple would inhibit the setting up of agar, as it does when you put it into a cheesecake. Apparently, it doesn't.

Thanks, Dino, for your gracious reply. I really appreciate the time you gave to my question. Daniel located some agar in Rochester , and it will be a family experience making the torte together this year. (We live in a very rural area, and ingredient choices are not very broad here.) My husband has been very unwell, as you may know, and is facing his first of five surgeries this coming Monday. I'm so thankful that all of the children can cook, as I will be arriving very late the night before Easter. We'll all put the dessert together as soon as I arrive. Just gotta keep those traditions going! Thanks for helping us to do just that. Take care, Suzanne

I didn't realise what a rough time her family was going through. It was even more poignant that she was still thinking about everyone's comfort, in spite of having so much on her mind already.

So then, I rambled back, to maybe help take her mind off of things for a bit. Also, I kind of wanted to keep the correspondence going, because I wanted to know if the dessert worked out well for everyone.

Sounds good, Suzanne! Please let me know how it all turns out. Also, please have Daniel do a test run to make sure that the whole thing does set up. Few things are quite as disappointing as the grand finale being anything but. If it doesn't work, I can email Daniel something vegan that he can knock up quickly. I've had to do the same to gallop in and save dessert on more times than I care to remember. Seriously, there have been some nights.  

Like the one time that I had my dear friend Ricardo coming over for dinner, and he asked if he could bring a friend. No harm, no foul, right? I just add more water into the pasta pot, ready to feed both of 'em. About 20 minutes before arrival, Ricardo lets me know she's gluten free. D'oh! Thankfully, I had the rice pasta from Chinatown in my pantry, and I figured that today was the day to use the thing. 

Or the many times I've been to Joanna and Mark's house, and got a request for dessert. I'm not a baker, y'see. I just know a couple of recipes that're fool proof, that I keep in the back of my brain, in case of dessert emergencies. Like the apple lingonberry crisp I made for those two when I think Daniel and Andrew were visiting. That came out fantastic. Or the Lemon Poppyseed cake. Man, was that good! 

Funny story about the lemon poppyseed cake. I was flat on my back, having over-indulged the night before (in an effort to keep Mark at home, so that Joanna could go to the store to "get more beer" [when she was really going to pick up Daniel and Andrew]). I basically dictated the recipe, and the specific instructions to the gang, while running an online interview that I'd promised to do months before. It was the most hilarious thing (looking back), because there I am, hollering highly specific instructions to the kitchen, while trying to type to my interviewer at the same time. For the record, the cake was delicious. Thanks again for reaching out. I appreciate getting to know the families of my friends better. I wish your husband a speedy recovery. Dino

It took a while, because that was around when Easter hit, and things got crazy busy for everyone. However, I got back some very good news when the dust all settled on both sides.

So, Dino, the torte was perfect! Thanks so much for your assistance. I was sooo happy that everyone in the family could continue to enjoy one of our holiday traditions. You're the best! PS...Mark, Joanna, Drew, and Daniel have had amazing things to say about the food you've cooked for them, as well as good things to share about you and Steven. Seems like you have a knack for multitasking.

Score! The point is, to this whole long rambling tale, that we do still have those foods that mean more to us than the specific ingredients in them. There are traditions, there are memories, and there are all kinds of other things tied into those things. When you start on a vegan lifestyle, you sometimes have to tweak those traditions, and make them into new traditions, so that you still connect with your family and friends over those things, while still holding true to your moral convictions.

Again, to reiterate: it's not fair to judge everyone who tries a mock meat thing, or an omnisub thing as "one of those lazy vegans who just lives off of boxed food". Daniel and Drew were quite adventurous eaters too. When they were visiting Mark and Joanna, I made all kinds of varied things, which they eat with great gusto. They're both capable of cooking, and cooking well.

But sometimes, they just want a little taste of home, mom, and pineapple torte.

Roti & subzi

I'm getting tired of this notion that breakfast food has to be some specific sort of thing. It doesn't. It can be leftovers from the previous day's lunch or dinner, remixed into something different.

This morning, I made 5 whole wheat roti, and reheated some daal and subzi from Monday night's dinner. It was quite filling and delicious.

Please don't let the big corporations dictate what you eat and when you eat it. If you have a hankering for oatmeal in the afternoon, go for it. If pasta in the morning sounds good, eat it! And in all seriousness, any time is a good time for adai or dosa.

The roti was 2/3 cup whole wheat flour, 1/3 cup all purpose flour, just about 1/2 cup~ish of water that I kneaded for a couple of minutes, rolled out, and cooked on my dosa pan.

Chakli

http://youtu.be/H4ZFzeCvjw0 

Watch that video on Youtube, where the ladies explain how to make slightly healthier Chakli. If you've ever eaten this highly addicting Indian snack, you know that it can frequently call for obscene amounts of fat. 


Their version involves like a TB of fat to give it a bit of crunch, and then the rest of it is made up with daal! I didn't have moong daal, so I used some red lentils I had lying around. I'm fairly certain that the recipe will work quite well with even split yellow peas or something. The bottom line is that murukku and things like that don't require very expensive ingredients or a special trip to the Indian store. I was able to pick up rice flour from the Chinese store for around $1 for a 1-lb bag. I made a small~ish batch for a party that Steve was going to. It came to about 1/2 cup of uncooked red lentils that I pressure cooked, along with 2 cups of rice flour. The spices I had at home already. The only mandatory ones are the salt, asafoetida, and cumin. The rest are just bonus.


I didn't want the dough to fall out of the press in lumps, so I ground the spices in my mortar and pestle, so as to get them more incorporated into the dough. The ladies don't do this, so I guess that step is optional. Whenever my brother makes them, however, he grinds his, so I do the same. 


Here's to hoping that your snacks come out crunchy and tasty! 

Rainy days and salad days

There are few things that give me as much joy as a giant bowl of salad on a cold, overcast day. I can mentally put myself away from the cold and blustery city, and pretend to be some kind of happy herbivore, stolidly munching through my day's rations. I can imagine the warmth of the sun, the cool of the shade, the peace and quiet. For someone who dislikes nature as much as I do, I imagine myself in it a surprising amount. I am currently working my way through an enormous bowl of red leaf lettuce, spinach, red cabbage, olives, black beans, red onions, lemon juice, olive oil, cucumber, and sunflower seeds. Munch, munch, munch. Granted, few happy herbivores in the jungle would have access to such delicious fare, but I can certainly pretend for a bit, and escape from the overcast, dark day that's surrounding me. It started off well enough. I bolted out of bed at the crack of dawn (OK, more like 7:30, but I can give myself a little license here), and made kale and urad daal fritters. I added so much kale, garlic, and ginger, that the urad daal wasn't quite holding together, so I threw in a bit of rice flour too. I made a fresh pot of brown rice, and used some leftover kale to make a kale red lentil daal. Y'know. To go with the brown rice. All this took no time at all, because the kale was already chopped, the red lentils already cooked, and it was just a question of grating up some more ginger to make the tarka. 20 minutes later, I'm triumphantly out of the kitchen, with a rather hearty breakfast ready to roll. Since I soaked the brown rice the night before, it only took about 20 minutes to cook. That's the secret to sorting out breakfast quickly: have most of the prep done the night before, so that the morning itself, you can look like a hero. Nobody wants to wait while the delicious smells of garlic and ginger waft through the air, so the sooner you can get food on the table, the better. By the time I finished eating my breakfast, I was exhausted, and managed to conk out for a long nap. This is generally a Very Bad Idea, but I didn't have much of a choice when I found myself nodding off. By 10:00, I conked right out, and slept deeply until noon~ish. By the time I was done with round two of my morning ablutions, I was already running late. I ran into the bedroom, changed, threw the computer and Kindle and phone into the bag, and dashed out the door. By the time I got into the train station, I made it in just enough time to watch the train roll away. D'oh! Fortunately, I get into work, and am immediately inspired to cook, which meant that I managed to get everything done in an hour and small change. Into the oven the roasting dish went. But then, I made the mistake of looking outside, and seeing how gloomy and overcast it all looked. So I'm sitting here, with my enormous pile of greens, working on the next pile of paperwork, and imagining the sunshine and pretty days coming in again.

Sometimes low-tech works.

I was making an excel spreadsheet to track sales at work. Each day has two shifts. This means that I need to create a series of dates, duplicated. For example, there would be two entries for 3/1/2012, two for 3/2/2012, and so on. I was trying to figure out how to make the software do that for me.

I tried googling the issue, I tried searching the help files, I tried everything.

Then, someone suggested I try this. "Create the dates for the range that you need. Then duplicate the dates. Then put the dates in the same column. Then sort by date. Tada!"

It took a fraction of a second for it to sink in that something so obvious should have occurred to me in the beginning, but never did. I'm so used to the software making it happen for me that I'd forgotten the low-tech methods of doing things sometimes work just as well.

The sun will come out! Tomorrow!

And today, too. It was so beautiful today that I got in a good two or three hours of basking in the gorgeous sun. I made adai for my friend who's staying with me until Monday, and a very fast curry of yucca, green beans, and tomato. We all ate until we were filled, and then finished it off with a bit of green oolong tea, from Sullivan Street Tea & Spices. They sell loose tea by the ounce, which means that I can buy just a little bit at a time, and use it up, and then go back for more.

I got some lovely messages of encouragement and hope, which really did help my mood tremendously. Also, I cooked for my friends yesterday night, which made it even nicer. It's such a nice day that I don't even mind opening the window and letting a bit of fresh air in.

I could certainly get used to this!

One of the ladies who came over for lunch took a picture of her plate of food so you could all see it too: http://instagr.am/p/ISL5sOk6f9/

Pretty, isn't it? The white stuff is my own coconut & soy milk yoghurt that I make. Isn't it so nice and thick? We ate the adai with the curried veg, the yoghurt, and some lime pickle that I'd made earlier last year. It's gotten this lovely tartness, mellowed out by a mild bitterness. It came out better than I expected. Thanks for teaching me how to make pickles, Amma. It's come in handy big time.

Here's a picture of two very happy vegans after eating all that food:

Do you get thrown off balance by weather?

I know I do.

I remember going to these 3-day anti-bigotry camps (both as a participant and as a counsellor). The youths would arrive mostly with feelings of fear and mild annoyance at the lack of basic amenities (the water smelled horrific, the food was just passable, and we weren't allowed TV, radio, headphones, mobile phones, or any other electronic device), and would leave not wanting to go home. More times than I can count, the last day would be raining. It's almost like the overall sadness was bringing out the worst in the weather.

The obverse tends to happen to me, without my even realising it. If it's damp and drizzly, I tend to feel low and mopey as well. Today is one such day, and I'm fighting the urge to give in to the malaise. It's tough though.

When it's bright and the sun is out, I'm generally in a good mood, and filled with energy. Even on those days when it's hot and the sun is out, I can find deep stores of pep inside me, and keep going. Cold weather makes me want to hibernate. And overcast, slightly drizzly days make me feel dragged down, big time.

If it's a proper storm, however, like we used to get back in Florida, I don't seem to have that same problem. I love to throw open the windows, smell the fresh breezes coming in, and listen to the claps of thunder and watch the flashes of lighting. The sheer vigour with which a proper rainstorm plies its craft is energising.

But today is drizzly, and I shall try my best to stay positive. Somehow.

Let's Make Pesarattu

This is what it looks like when it's cooked:

This is what it looks like when you first put it on the skillet. Notice how there are peaks that are still uncooked, like there were in the adai. When almost all of the peaks are turned to the cooked colour, you're ready to flip.

So you've mastered the dosa. You've knocked out a few adai. Now it's time to go outside of Tamil Nadu, and head over to Andhra Pradesh, where you will find Pesarattu. The recipe I used was loosely based on the #Vachef one, as well as a couple of others I saw.

Andhra is a beautiful state with a long and colourful history, replete with opposites. It's the nest of orthodox Muslims. It's quite a common sight to see a man walking along with a couple of women in full black burqa. It's also the home to very devout Hindus, one of whom built a temple completely out of white marble. Meanwhile, you've got the Charminar less than 10 km away from the Birla Mandir.

The Andhra taste for hot spicy food is legendary. They adore hot chilies in everything, and will generously share their blisteringly hot food with all who visit. There's also a bit of a sweet tooth, with dishes like bobbatulu (a sort of sweet roti), and kajjikayalu (a sweet stuffed with coconut and cardamom; there is nothing about this that sounds bad).

I guess I've always had a soft spot for Hyderebad, because my aunts who live there have an extensive book collection, which they had no problems sharing with me while I was there. You see, I was never a huge fanatic for TV the way some folks are. I'll watch it if there's a cooking show on, or if there's a particularly nice documentary, but TV overall doesn't interest me. Books, on the other hand, are a different story.

Unfortunately, books in India are prohibitively expensive. People with large book collections are rare in the extreme. Comics, on the other hand, are prevalent and plentiful. I remember an aunt of mine in Chennai who had stacks upon stacks of Amar Chitra Katha comics, ranging from the Bhagavad Gita (it was a large multi issue hard bound version) to a bunch of other ones that I can't recall.

It was pleasurable, but nothing quite scratched that reading itch for me like reading actual books. In Hyderebad, I found my oasis. I had read and re-read the books I'd brought with me (something like half my suitcase was crammed with books), and I was going a little out of my mind. My aunt's book collection at that time in my life when I was so hungry for more was exactly what I needed to make that trip pleasant.

But I digress. Onwards to the food!

This recipe makes 4 1/2 10-inch crepes. You may increase or decrease as needed. I made this batch in this manner, because I ran out of rice. Again. Ugh. I made these plain, without onion, because I ran out of onions too. I really need to go shopping.

3/4 cup mung beans, with the skin and everything still on
1/4 cup brown rice
3 TB rice flour
3 green chilies
3 stalks curry leaf
3 inches ginger, chopped roughly
Salt, to taste
2 cups Water, for soaking
Oil

In a high-sided container, combine the brown rice and mung beans, and cover with 2 cups of water for soaking. Leave it that way overnight. The next morning, your beans and rice should have absorbed all but about 1 inch of water. This is fine, because you'll be adding some rice flour to thicken anyway.

Using a stick blender (or regular blender), grind the beans, chilies, curry leaf, and ginger together to make a thick batter. Stir through the salt and rice flour. If the batter becomes too thick, add a bit more water, and stir through. Because of the high content of beans, the crepes cohere quite nicely, so don't worry if your batter is thick or thin. It'll be fine.

Just as you do for adai or dosa, spread the batter onto a hot griddle, and sprinkle a few drops of oil on the perimeter of the crepe. Cook on both sides until browned and crispy. Delicious!

Steve took one bite (even though he'd already eaten oatmeal this morning) and moaned in delight. The best part of this for me is that it was all things I had around the house. If you don't have curry leaves or green chiles, just leave it out. The ginger is essential, as the masses of beans in the dish will leave you a bit gassy. The ginger tends to combat that rather well.

You too can make it!

My friend from an online cooking forum named Kenn decided to try eating all vegan for the month of March as a challenge to himself. He bought a copy of my cook book, and has given some of the recipes a try. He graciously allowed me to show a picture of his efforts here, so that you all can look and enjoy the food photo.

The recipe, if you're curious, is the Eggplant Planks. He explained his process for making them on his blog. If you enjoy my style of cooking with lots of produce and fresh ingredients, and avoiding premade faux meats and the rest, give his blog a look, because he's doing exactly that kind of food. He also takes beautiful pictures of the food.

I wanted to highlight his take on my recipe for a reason: he did exactly what I encourage people to do! He took the recipes as a starting point, then tweaked to his liking until it became something that he could call his own. I never would have thought to add tomato sauce to gravy, but it sounds absolutely delicious! It is by experimenting with what you like in particular and then sharing the results that we all learn about food from each other.

I love getting feedback from my readers who tweak the recipe, because then I learn something new too! Thanks, Kenn. Thanks for the very kind words, and for the beautiful food.

Adai

Adai is a newly discovered thing in my house. My mum used to make it for me when I was a kid, but I didn't appreciate it so much, because I preferred dosa, which really is more kid-friendly. However, as of late, I've been making Pa Jeon, or Besan ka Puda, or those little Paniyaram. All of which are delicious, and all of which challenge my conceptions of what a savoury crepe type dealie should be. I especially was moved to change my mind about adai after eating some of the Besan ka Puda, as it's essentially the same thing, but made from the raw ingredients, and with the chance to ferment a little.

Traditionally, you do not have to ferment an adai batter. That's the charm of it in the first place. You can set the beans and rice to soak, and slap that bad boy onto the griddle immediately. I prefer my crepes a little more fermented, because I like the flavour better, so I decided to ferment. You may choose not to. The choice is yours.

I personally prefer it with the mix that I've come up with. You can actually alter the mix to your own likes and dislikes. If you don't have toor daal, use moong daal. If you don't have either, use split peas, and it'll get you there. The essential part is that you make it with at least equal parts lentil to rice.

Unlike dosa, Adai is not so popular for a couple of reasons. For one thing, it's more expensive by a long shot. Traditional dosa calls for a 4 parts rice to 1 part urad daal mixture. This means that if you buy the cheapest rice, and the urad daal on sale, you can generally knock out a batch for a family of six with very little money. Adai, on the other hand, calls for much higher quantities of lentils. In my version, there are even more lentils than rice!

For another thing, because of the heft and "stuff" found inside of adai, it's not as popular with the kids, who like the diaphanous and crispy dosa, because they don't have much chewing of little bits to get through, and they can easily eat a couple and feel comfortable. An adai, on the other hand, is filling. It tends to be one of those things that you can have one, maybe two of at the most. Because it's so nutritionally dense, you tend to feel full faster, and stay full much longer than if you were to eat a dosa.

Finally, it's not as amenable to being folded over. It's a hefty little crepe. You can't fold it easily like you can a dosa. It doesn't take to fillings so much as it takes to the stuff already folded into the batter.

All that being said, if you don't mind the extra expense of making adai, you will be greatly rewarded. For one thing, it's much easier to handle the batter grinding. Unlike dosa, you need not grind the rice and beans down to a fine puree. You can get away with a bit of grit in the batter. You can also add all kinds of different things to the batter, and still turn out OK. You can sub out part of the rice for oats, or buckwheat, or even millet and still turn out something that's very tasty. You can sub out the daal for actual whole beans, like mung beans or chickpeas, and it'll still be delicious.

You can also fold in an endless variety of add-ons into the batter. Adai batter is extremely forgiving. You have some leftover chopped onions from the main dish you were making? In it goes! You have some extra grated carrots from the salad? Throw it in! You like to boost up the nutrition value by adding ground flax seed (as I did in this recipe; flax seed isn't traditional, but it's most delicious)? The batter will be better! The sky's the limit with regards to the flavouring options.

Add to this the fact that you can serve it with any kind of sauce (mint, cilantro, tamarind-date), chatni (coconut, mango, tomato), or stew (sambhar, rasam, kootu)/vegetable (curry, poriyal) that your brain can think of, and you're talking about a very useful little dish to have on hand.

Bear in mind that I did this to suit my tastes, and you may want to leave out the optional ingredients. Don't worry. I won't be offended! I personally like the addition of the urad daal, because it helps to keep the batter stronger and more coherent. I like the flax seed, because it means that I can thicken the batter after grinding with plenty of water. My blender isn't very powerful, so I need to add extra water to get it all ground down to my liking.

For the batter:

1 1/2 cups brown rice
1 1/2 cups toor daal
1/2 cup urad daal (OPTIONAL)
1 TB fenugreek seed (OPTIONAL)
4 cups water

Soak the ingredients for the batter for 3 hours. If you're adding fenugreek seed, and using brown rice, like I am, soak it for 6 hours, and you'll end up with better results. If you're using urad daal, like I am, please only soak the urad daal for about an hour.

Then, after the soaking process is done, add the mixture into the blender, in 1 cup increments, with about 1 cup of soaking liquid at a time. The reason to go in small batches is so that you don't strain your blender. We're not in a rush here, and this recipe makes a large batch of batter.


At the end of the blending, you'll end up with a batter like the one pictured above.

At this point, if you're using the fenugreek seed, take the batter and set it into a container on your countertop to ferment overnight. If you're not bothering with the fenugreek, don't bother to ferment. The fermentation step is strictly because I like the taste of it, and because I wanted adai for breakfast the next day, and not dinner that night.

When you're ready to fry off the adai on your skillet, you can add in your additions.

Additions:

1 1/2 cups chopped onion
1/2 cup chopped ginger
1/4 cup chopped curry leaf
3 green chilies (OPTIONAL)
2 - 3 pinches of asafoetida (OPTIONAL, if not using onion)
1/4 cup flax seed (OPTIONAL)
Any other veg you'd like

Mix the additions into 4 cups of batter, and salt to taste. Grind the flax seeds in a coffee grinder until it's a powder. Stir it into your batter. You'll have a cup or two of leftover batter to use later. The batter will be very thick and should bubble a little bit if you fermented it overnight. If you need to, thin it out with a bit of water. You want it to resemble a thick and chunky pancake batter.


Because I didn't go shopping this week, I didn't have much in the way of additions. I wish I had some coconut to fold in. That would have been lovely. I just added the ginger, onion, and curry leaf.


Using a 1-cup ladle, pour the batter onto a hot skillet (heated over medium high heat), and spread the batter around in concentric circles until it's about 1/4 inch thick. Don't worry about getting it crepe thin. It's never going to be super thin, because of the add-ins. This is OK. I'm using a nonstick skillet, so that I don't have to add very much fat.

Using a squeeze bottle, or a small spoon, put a few drops onto the perimeter of your adai.

When to Flip?

Look at the picture of the adai after it's sat on the skillet for about 30 seconds (click the image if you want a larger version). Notice how most of the surface looks mostly translucent? Notice how some of the "peaks" look a much more opaque white colour? The opaque bits (that I've circled in the image) are still not cooked all the way through. You want the bottom of the adai to be browned, and the top to be almost completely cooked before turning. At this point, I've still got too many uncooked bits, so I'm not going to turn it over yet.

Finally, once the adai is mostly cooked on the side you can see, flip it over, and look at the other side:


Isn't that beautiful? Flip it over a couple of more times until it's browned to your liking, then serve.

Please, come out.

Steve!
I wanted to tell you (and Dino)...
A debate started up in my classroom today about gay rights. One of my students took a strong stand against it. I won't repeat what he said, because we've all heard it, and I was thoroughly disgusted. BUT, as I listened, and responded with the 'other side' in as calm a manner as I could manage, it dawned on me...
The most beautiful example of HUMANS I have is you two. So, I told him about two wonderful friends of mine who managed to make me cry for the first time after 13 years. At their wedding. In a church. (Gauntlet thrown, said I. ha.)

Know what he said when I was done? "Ms G, I think you just changed my mind. Because that's awesome."

I just wanted to share how you helped me open at least one very closed mind today.

to you and Dino!
xo
Kate

Just got an email from Steve, who saw this on his Facebook wall. I don't have a Facebook, so he forwarded me the message.

I don't know if I've shared this with too many of my readers before, so if it's new, welcome. If it's not, then settle in, because it's something that is important that people know. When you're young and gay, you think you're the only one. Nobody else could possibly understand you, because you don't know any other gay people in your life. Because of the disgusting things that hatemongering people have done over the years to make us feel unwanted, and like there's something wrong with us, we remain silent, and hope that nobody else can tell.

And when injustice happens, we fear to speak out about it, because standing up for gay people would make the nasty people assume that you're gay. So you quietly watch it happening, and say nothing, in the hope that they don't find out about this horrible secret that you are hiding.

It feels so good to be out to the world, and not make any apologies for who I am. Maybe it's not your cup of tea, but I'm not asking you to join in, am I? Katie's letter reminded me one of the reasons that it's so important for me to be out: because if I'm closeted, then I'm invisible, and some other person out there will likely feel invisible too. Some other person who doesn't have my family, or my friends, or my wonderful and loving husband to support and care for and love me. Someone whose family asks him, either explicitly or not, to push that part of himself or herself down. Whose religious leaders ask the same. Whose school administrators wish for the same, so that they don't have to deal with the asshole parents who seem to think that wanting protection for all kinds is some kind of insidious agenda out to corrupt their rotten little spawn.

Maybe some other Indian kid out there, reading things on the Internet, sees that he's not the only one out there. Maybe some other immigrant kid, hoping against hope that he's not alone, can find a bit of solace in knowing that some day, he too can have such wonderful friends, who stand up and interrupt hatred when they see it.

If I weren't out, Katie wouldn't have had the opportunity to have been part of my life, because I'd be so scared of making even so innocuous a thing as a friend that I'd keep myself locked away.

Please, for your sake and the sake of others after you, be out. Be proud of who you are, and what you stand for.

It's late, and I'm mentally clumsy, but I felt like I had to get that little bit of encouragement out there for anyone who can read this.

Joy is a joy to read!

I just finished (re)reading Joy Tienzo's book, Cook, Eat, Thrive: Vegan Recipes from Everyday to Exotic, and I must say that I'm suitably impressed. Her ever-present kindness and thoughtfulness come through very strongly in her writing. Reading her book is like having a long chat with her, and enjoying her company.

The title says it all: everyday to exotic. She doesn't dumb down the flavours to appeal to boring people. Instead, she dares you to try stuff that you hadn't considered before, in new and exciting ways. With Joy, cooking is an adventure. As soon as I got it (even though I was at work), I started flipping through the pages of the book, and exclaiming in excitement at the delicious food that my boss and I could create.

White beans in mashed potatoes! How brilliant! Samosa soup! Yes yes yes! I'm totally there! Edamame pesto! Why hand't I thought of that before? I keep flipping pages, and exclaiming in surprise and delight, over and over again.

I remember when I first saw Joy posting on the vegan forums that I used to frequent. I saw all the mouth-watering food she'd post, and I'd go and make it, to see that it really does work. Her recipe for Hatian Fried Plantains was a staple in my house when Steve and I were newly married, because it was so tasty and easy to knock up in no time at all. Her ranch dressing has saved countless cows, because I know a couple of folk whom she generously shared the recipe with who were pushed over the vegan edge once they saw they could really make it work. I made her almond crepes (yes, they finally did work, even though my first attempt failed because I misread the recipe), and they're absolutely lovely. Her Moroccan Preserved Lemons are absolutely divine.

Thanks, Joy. Thanks for creating a work of love, and compassion, and beauty. Thanks for continuing to be an inspiration for people to strive for (and achieve) the best that they can. Thanks for being a wonderful, kind, and loving person.

Oven Uppuma Rava

Anyone who's made uppuma (and you should; it's very tasty) can tell you that one of the things that discourages one from making it is the roasting of the rava (semolina). Rava is this coarse ground semolina flour that's used in various Indian mains and sweets. In the South, we tend to use it in a savoury dish called uppuma, which is a mixture of a tarka of mustard seed, cumin seed (depending on whether the house is fond of cumin seed, like mine is), urad daal, dried or fresh chilies, curry leaves (if you have them), along with onion, and in some cases, turmeric (depending on whether or not the house is fond of that vibrant, yellow colour, as mine is), and water, along with the roasted semolina flour, to make a thick polenta-like main dish.

It's absolutely delicious, and very easy to make, once the initial roasting step is finished. Unfortunately, for most people (including myself), roasting is a huge pain. You have to dry roast it over medium low heat (low heat if you're not lightning quick on your feet) in a wok. It takes quite a while, and you must stir it constantly. As you're standing there and stirring that thing endlessly, there's other steps to preparing to make the uppuma that you're delaying, such as chopping the onions, or getting the rest of your counter space cleaned off, so that when everything is done, you don't end up frantically searching for a space to put the freshly roasted semolina flour, which then burns. Why didn't you think of this before? That would have only made sense, seeing as how you've just spent the better part of a half hour roasting this thing.

And now you're doubly irritated, because that was the last of your semolina, and you do have rice, but that involves even more time (an hour, to be precise, if you're talking brown rice), and you're hungry right now, so you angrily throw the pot, semolina and all, into the sink, scream and cry for a good solid 20 minutes, and then run down to the bodega downstairs, and anger-buy a bag of tortilla chips and a jar of salsa, which you proceed to eat between sobs.

Totally not speaking from experience.

All this can be prevented, if you will use your oven to roast the semolina. I discovered this trick on accident when I was at my brother's house in VA. His wife was making up a batch of uppuma as a lunch thing, and had asked me to roast the semolina for her. I asked her why she didn't just use her oven for it. She mentioned that the oven was being used as storage at that moment, and would I give her a sec to clean it out.

With rare exceptions, Indians who were raised in the South Indian tradition tend not to trust ovens terribly well. When coming to the USA, and making the odd bake sale dish, or birthday thing for the kid's school thing, they'll tend to use the oven to store pots and pans, and promptly ignore its other function: perfect roasting thing.

You see, when you roast anything on the stove, you're dealing with the vagaries of your cooking vessel. For one thing, not all the food is going to be in contact with the heat, which is coming from below, heating your cooking vessel, then heating your food. In an oven, the cooking vessel does get hot and help your food to heat, but the ambient temperature is hot as well, making the food heat evenly. Furthermore, because air is not as good a conductor of heat as water is, you're going to get a more steady and gradual roasting.

There's a reason why you should do your roasting in the oven: the margins aren't quite so razor-sharp as they are on the stove. If you miscalculate by a few mere seconds while roasting on the stove, you risk burning the whole thing, and making a mess. If you misjudge the oven, you still have some wiggle room to fix your mistakes.

Mind you, there are a couple of caveats before we venture into the oven's door:

1) Always double and triple check the temperature of the oven before putting anything in. If your recipe calls for 350°F, and your oven is set at 375°F, you're going to be in a world of pain when the food gets finished so much faster.

2) When roasting something like semolina, which is a flour, don't ever fill your baking sheet completely full. For one thing, the thicker your stack of food, the longer it will take to get everything roasted. For another, you have a much more likely chance of spilling a fair bit onto your floor on your way to and from your oven, and then your sister-in-law grumbles and mutters as she has to clean up yet another mess. Again, totally not speaking from experience.

3) USE. A. TIMER. I cannot stress this enough. With the oven, you don't have those visual cues to keep you going. It's a self-contained environment, where you'll likely miss something if you're not timing yourself. Initially, set the timer for a lower setting, and check frequently. Don't set it for longer until you're confident that it will all work out.

For me, the whole roasting process took a total of 45 minutes. Mind you, this is because I had set the initial times for 7 minutes, and then finally for like 12 minutes. For the first 21 minutes (in 7 minute increments), I baked the semolina in baking sheets, at 350°F (180°C). I then baked it for 2 increments of 12 minutes (24 minutes). Between increments, I gently stirred the rava with a slotted spoon.

A couple of obvious changes happened. Firstly, the rava smelled wonderful and roasted as time went on. For another, in the initial stages, the rava tended to clump a bit. This is normal. There's a bit of residual moisture in the rava from the surrounding air. When the whole thing is roasted to perfection, the moisture is driven out, and the rava becomes free flowing again. Initially, just stir through the lumps. It'll all work out. Finally, the rava became a light golden brown. Don't take it much further than that. That's about where you want it to be.

The best part of this method is that at the end of the first 21 minutes, I was able to prep my ingredients for the actual uppuma, and get them on the stove. This meant that I was using my time efficiently.

All said and done, yesterday's project took about an hour from start to finish. However, I now have a jar of pre roasted rava, with which to cook future meals very quickly. Once the rava is roasted, the actual uppuma itself takes about 10 minutes.

Why not cook the uppuma without roasting the semolina? Because then the uppuma will be a big gross clump of disgusting, and not be fluffy and delicious.

Once more, totally not speaking from experience.

Set up big pressure cooker for small cooking.

In the body of the pressure cooker is lentils with enough water to cover them. The first bowl in the stack has barley, and its cooking liquid. Atop that, I set the little trivet that came with the pressure cooker. Atop /that/ are some red potatoes, with a scant 2 cm of water in. There'll be plenty of steam in the cooker, so I need not even bother with it, but I don't want the potatoes sticking to my bowl. I then put the lid and weight on the whole mess, set it over high heat, and set my timer for 40 minutes. (Next time, I'll go with shorter time, because the potatoes got overcooked). Then I walked away, and heard the pressure cooker get to full pressure at like 6 minutes or so. Then, I dropped down the heat to low, and let the timer run out. I did a quick release. Honestly, if I just did like 20 minutes, I could have still done a quick release with no problems. I was just stupidly nervous. Boo.

My friend Christy Morgan, of Blissful Chef fame, is maintaining an ongoing pressure cooker party on her blog. Please check out this link for more info on cooking other stuff in pressure cookers! She's got lots of creative ideas for cooking in my style: whole ingredients, lots of produce, and minimising premade stuff. Check it out!

Christy Interview

Christy Morgan, the author of The Blissful Chef, did an interview with me a few months back. Unfortunately, I was stupid, and uploaded it to my website holder. Which I lost access to. Which I then had no backup of, because I'm dumb.

Then, she graciously agreed to do a do-over. This is the do-over. However, after editing it, and fixing it, the program crashed, and I lost my work.

Rather than shoot something, and delay this any further, I decided to just upload the raw files, and the hell with editing, because this interview seems to be cursed or something. Either way, enjoy the interview! You can find Christy on Twitter and Facebook and G+.

Download the interview here, or download it on iTunes.

The book is out!

If you go to the PM Press website, you can order the book directly from them. In this version, I've got a bunch of spelling corrections, the recipe for the Demonic Mushrooms (essentially, spicy stuffed mushrooms), and corrections to amounts/times/temperatures. I'm very excited that it's finally here! Hooray!

Pretzels, redux

As mentioned in this post, I made pretzels. A friend of mine (called GrauFrau) from an online cooking forum had a couple of comments:

Finally had time to try this! A few notes: The recipe is great. Smell, taste, and texture are perfect. However, I made one significant prep error. I should have rolled out the pretzels HALF as thick as I wanted them to be when finished. They looked nice until I dropped them in the solution, at which point they bloated up like crazy. So they look ugly, but that's ok - they taste wonderful!

The solution I used for dipping was close to 4 tbsp of the baked baking soda (Na2CO3) in the liter of boiling water. The dough floated almost immediately, and I kept each one in for 30 seconds. I baked them at 425F and turned them at 14 minutes, saw they were getting a bit too dark, and pulled them 5 minutes later. Next time I might try 400F and look at them at the 10-minute mark. Oh, and in case anyone doubts the necessity of the soda dip - see that hideous albino pretzel in the low left corner? I didn't dip him, just to see what he'd look like. He was baked right along with everyone else. I suppose it's still edible, but ew.

Anyway, definitely a great recipe. I'll be doing lots with this one. Now I can make my own pretzel rolls!

So, to review: roll them thinner than you think you'll want them, and you'll be in good shape. Thanks for the awesome picture, and for the tips! The baked baking soda she refers to is 1 lb of sodium bicarbonate, baked in the oven at 350 for an hour. If you'd like to do this too, use the opportunity to bake off some potatoes, butternut squash, roast some peppers, whatever. No sense in using up all that heat for one thing. It makes the baking soda stronger, and gives the pretzels a darker colour, like GrauFrau's came out. I can't be bothered to go through the extra step, and will continue to just do them the regular way, but if you're feeling like you want that good strong dark pretzel colour, give the whole baking the bicarbonate of soda thing a shot.

Thank you especially for doing one without the soda dip, so that everyone can see how important it is to follow every step.

Rice cooker Quinoa

Use a rice cooker! I'm serious. I was in a hurry, and decided to just try it out to see what happens. I used 6 "cups" of the millet & quinoa (50-50 mix), and filled the water to the 8 cup line, just as if I were making brown rice. I hit start on the regular white rice cycle, and let it go. At the end of the cycle, the rice pot beeped, and I had perfectly steamed millet and quinoa, cooked at the same time. They were cooked to perfection, and not sticky at all.

I find that if I make quinoa or millet by itself, they don't cook up as nicely. The quinoa tends to the overcooked stage, with the little swirly thingies falling out. The millet tends to the mushy, and sticky as heck side, with the whole thing becoming a globby mass. No thanks! From now on, I shall cook it in the rice cooker, and wind up with fluffy, tender, perfectly done millet and quinoa. From there, it's easy enough to use the grains just like you'd use rice.

If you don't have a fancy rice cooker with all kind of cycles, fret not! I did it with the rice cooker at work (which just has an on and an off button), and it came out perfectly there too. I just did the same measurement: 6 "cups" (and by "cups", I mean for you to use the measuring cup that came with the rice cooker; if you lost it, 1 "cup" is equal to 3/4 cups by dry measure, so do the conversions as necessary) of millet & quinoa, with enough water filled to the 8 cup line. If you have a larger cooker, I'm sure you could do 8 "cups" with water filled to the 10 cup line with similar results, but I'd suggest you don't experiment with this one. I know it may be tempting, but I've tested this out a few times, and it's always worked out with this ratio.

What to get your cooking friends.

There are certain kitchen things that you can never have enough of. They're the things that you reach for all the time, but are so ubiquitous that you don't even think about it. Also, when those things start going bad on you, you keep using them anyway, because laziness is preventing you from replacing them. I therefore make this list of stuff that any cooking person would be happy to get from anyone s/he knows.

1) Rubber Scrapers/Spatulas: You would be amazed at how frequently these things get used, especially in baking. Your hand will never get that bowl quite as cleaned off as the rubber scraper. If the person intends to use it for cooking, please get one that's rated to high temperatures. You can generally find these at restaurant supply stores for less than $2 a piece. There is no cook that I know who would say, "Oh, but I already have one rubber scraper." They get a lot of use, and are endlessly wearing out.

2) Pastry Brush: Not to be confused with a painting brush. Again, these get heavy use, be it for brushing oil onto bread before baking, brushing marinade onto whatever you're roasting in the oven, brushing sauce onto stuff on the grill, or whatever other brushy things you can think of. And, as usual, these get worn out with startling regularity.

3) Silicon Baking Mat: If the person doesn't already own one or two, they'll love them. If they /do/ own one or two, they'll thank you for expanding their collection. I get annoyed at having to use parchment paper all the time to prevent sticking on my baking sheets. Instead, the baking mats do an excellent job every single time, and you don't need to grease them. Everything slides off with the greatest of ease. They're very useful to have around.

4) Wooden Spoons: I'm so not even being funny here. Wooden spoons are used constantly, for stirring, especially if the person owns a lot of nonstick cookware. Unfortunately, they get kind of grody looking over time. Some folk would consider this a good thing. I don't. Give them enough use, and the spoons will start to splinter off. Ew. However, just like the pastry brushes and spatulas, one feels way too lazy to go buy a new one, even though one knows that a new one would be a pleasure to use. This is where the friends come in. You'll generally get a, "Thanks! I was meaning to replace mine anyway."

5) Vegetable Peelers: I linked two different kinds, because wars have been fought over the superiority of the y-peelers versus regular peelers, and I'm not about to get involved in that particular battle. (For the record, I loathe y-peelers. Just saying.) If you look in anyone's drawer, either the peeler sucks (these peelers I've linked are the kinds to AVOID at all costs) or is horribly blunt. In this particular case, I'm going to ask you to get the specific brand that I linked. Every other peeler I've used is horrible and isn't worth the money. Yes, that includes the nicer brands, like Kuhn Rikon or Zyliss. Get that specific brand, and you're good.

6) Storage Containers: (Especially glass ones. They're really nice to have around, and most people aren't ready to splurge on them.) This is actually a good gift for anyone, because they're so versatile. I'm forever looking for stuff to put my food in. Even if you got me Gladware, I'd still be happy. Why? Storage containers get lost. Their lids get lost. You loan them out and never see them again. They break. You can never have too many of them, as long as you keep throwing out the ones that are nasty or broken or lid-less (as I do).

7) Bar Towels: For some reason, kitchen towels seem to be designed by people who don't cook. They've got all kind of designs on them, and are made of thick terry cloth, which is difficult to keep clean looking. They're not very absorbent, or heat resistant, because they've frequently got polyester blends in them. Ew. Bar towels, on the other hand, are excellent kitchen towels.

---

None of these gifts is terribly romantic, or expensive. They're commonplace things, which most people could pick up at any store. They're things that folk will reach for every day, and think of you when they use them.

You're welcome.

If you have any ideas to add onto my list, let me know, and I'll do so.

ADDITIONS:

Kitchen Timers: Why didn't I add this to my first list? Even if the person you know already has a kitchen timer, they will definitely be happy to have a second. Why? Because you're not always just timing one thing, especially when cooking elaborate dinners. You want to time the oven for the veggies roasting in there, while also timing the pasta that's cooking in the pot. And frankly, I don't want my phone in my kitchen to behave as a timer. I want to be handling something I can pick up with wet fingers, and that's cheap enough that if I break it or damage it, I won't care.

A few of my favourite (kitchen) things

People frequently ask me whether they should buy a starter set from some company or another. I always strongly caution against that. Instead, I'd prefer that you buy a few excellent quality things (none of which are terribly expensive), and go from there. These aren't all completely necessary things (you may never reach for a pestle and mortar, because you don't actually use any spices that need crushing), so your mileage may vary, but I feel like for the price, all these items are very good deals.

Here is the list: http://www.amazon.com/lm/R3D907YKSJ0AG8/

Ginger Tea

This morning, because of the heater, Steve's got a particularly nasty sounding cough. Time to brew up some ginger tea. This can be drunk on its own, or blended with whatever your favourite hot tea is. I generally serve it with a bit of green tea steeped in the hot liquid, but the choice is yours.

500 ml (2 cups, roughly) water

4 cloves

1 cardamom, in its pod

4 cm knob of ginger, sliced thinly

4 black peppercorns

1/2 cinnamon stick

1 lime, juiced

1 TB of your favourite tea (or 2 tea bags; ugh, tea bags)

Over highest heat, steep the clove, cardamom, sliced ginger, black pepper, cinnamon, and the juice of the lime (along with the leftover lime halves, if you're feeling adventurous) in rapidly boiling water for three minutes. Turn off the heat. Add your tea leaves. Allow it to steep for four minutes, with the heat off. Serve your tea piping hot. Strain out all the bits and bobs, and refresh it by pouring another 500 ml of boiling water over top the whole mess, and steeping it for five minutes. Strain again, and use the stuff for a third steeping.

If you're using tea bags, you need to steep the tea for four - six minutes, and only use it once. With actual tea, however, you can generally get three good steepings out of it, at the very least. In fact, the second and third steeping tastes better than the first one, which is why I suggest a relatively quick steep for the first go-around.

I and Steve both prefer this without sweetener, because it's so flavourful without. All the spices give a bit of sweetness on their own, without needing to rely on sugar. I urge you to try it on its own, and see if you can take a strongly flavoured tea, all on its own. You'll surprise yourself, as you reach for this blend for your morning cup of tea, and cut back drastically on the amount of sugar you pour on.

Small quantities

It's a topic that's difficult for me to tackle, but frankly, I need to start cooking in small quantities when I'm at home. Why? Because if I don't, I'm going to wind up wasting food, and that's not a good way to keep my food shopping under control. Here's a helpful list for me to keep on hand, so that I remind myself of what a reasonably sized portion for one person (for one meal) should be.

1/4 cup of rice

1 potato

1/2 head of cauliflower

1/2 lb of spinach (cooked. Spinach is depressing in how much it cooks down!)

1/2 cup of beans

1 cup of red lentils (they're magic, and finish FAST)

1 cucumber

1 tomato

1 small red onion (or shallot, come to think of it)

1/2 cup of chickpeas, soaked and boiled (for hummus)

Ugh. This is depressing me. What are some tricks you all use to keep quantities small and manageable? I know I need to start doing it, because it's quicker too. 1 cup of rice or 1 cup of beans takes much less time to cook up than 5 cups of the same. Any tips from my lovely readers out there?

Thanks!

Just a little note to thank you all for following my adventures all these years, and for a couple of random thank-yous to people who may or may not see them.

1) Thank you to the lady who let me go in front of her, because I only had one item to buy, and she had three. She had a small child with her, and I know how much of a challenge it can be to have an inquisitive child with you when you're shopping. Even then, she still thought of my comfort first, and that touched my heart. Thank you, lovely lady at the store! You've made my day a little brighter.

2) Thank you to the gentleman across the train who got up to let a father (who held his little girl in his arms) sit down. You didn't have to. What touched me even more was that there was a bit of a scramble of people (about three or four) who got up to offer him a seat. Were I on that side of the train, I'd have done the same. I'm glad to see that kindness exists out there, and that we're all eager to help each other out. It warmed me up on that cold, rainy night.

3) Thank you to Steve, who cleaned the kitchen for me yesterday, so that as soon as I got home, I was inspired to make beet daal. It was lovely, for the record.

Beet Daal

1 beet, grated

2 cups of red lentils

1 onion, chopped roughly

1 enormous piece of ginger, chopped very roughly

1 stalk of curry leaves

1/2 tsp oil

1 tsp cumin seed

1 tsp coriander seed, crushed lightly

1 tsp sesame seed

2 litres water

Start with the oil in a deep stock pot. Add the cumin and coriander seeds. Wait about 30 seconds into the popping before adding the curry leaves. Add the onion, ginger, and sesame seeds, and stir vigorously. Cook for about 2 minutes. You want the onion and the ginger to just barely cook. The reason you chop them into rough pieces is that you want the ginger to retain some of its raw peppery bite.

Then, add the red lentils and the water, and let the water come to a full rushing boil. Drop down the heat to medium, and cover the pot. Set a timer for 25 minutes, and go grate up your beet.

When the soup is done cooking at the end of the 25 minutes, turn off the heat, and stir in the grated beets. The whole thing will turn a vivid purple. It's a beautiful colour. Let the beets steep in the hot soup for about 10 minutes, so that they're just barely cooked through. Eat over steaming hot rice. You'll get little bites of just barely cooked ginger, and beet, and bursts of spice from the toasted seeds. Delicious on a cold, rainy day.

Philly Style Soft Pretzels

EDIT: When rolling out the pretzels, please make sure to roll them out thinner than you think you want. As soon as you dip them into the boiling water, they will swell BIG TIME.

If I can manage to knock up a batch of pretzels without screwing it up, anyone can.

1 1/4 cups of water, at body temperature

1 package (2 tsp) of yeast

2 cups all purpose flour

2 cups of all purpose flour, set aside for later

2 TB oil

2 tsp salt

Combine the water and yeast together, and let it dissolve. Then, combine the first two cups of flour with the yeast + water. Let the sponge (this is what the yeast, flour, and water mixture is called now) sit for about 20 minutes. At the end of 20 minutes, the sponge should have doubled in size. If it hasn't your yeast has gone off, and you've got problems. Let it sit in a warmer space for another 20 minutes, and see if that does anything.

It did nothing? Buy fresh yeast, and fold it into your sponge, and try again. This is why I love the sponge method: you aren't too invested in anything at the initial stages. You haven't kneaded anything, and there wasn't too terribly much work going into anything yet.

When your sponge has doubled in volume, fold in, bit by bit, the remaining flour, salt, and oil. You can do this on a counter if you're feeling adventurous (and don't mind the mess), or in a food processor or stand mixer if you own one of those. It also works in a bread machine. If the dough is too sticky, knead longer. It'll de-sticky eventually. If it's still too sticky, knead in a bit more flour.

Once the dough is well kneaded (for about 10 minutes, or 2 minutes in the mixer or food processor), let it rise in a large plastic box/bowl/container that's been greased. Lightly coat the dough in a film of grease, either with cooking spray or oil. This will prevent that gross crust from forming on the outside. Let it rise in a warm place for 1 1/2 hours (more if you're doing it at a cooler temperature, like in the winter), until it's doubled in volume.

Beat it down, and form into pretzel shapes of your liking.

Boiling Liquid

1 litre of water

2 heaped tablespoons baking soda

Boil the water, and dissolve the baking soda. Drop in the formed pretzels, one at a time into the liquid. When the pretzel rises to the top, continue to boil for another 30 seconds. Scoop out with a slotted spoon, and lay onto a parchment-lined, greased baking sheet. As soon as it's laid onto the baking sheet, sprinkle on your salt or sesame seeds (whichever you prefer is fine).

Bake at 425ºF for 14 minutes. Turn the pans, and bake for another 7 minutes.

Quick Red Lentil Soup

When I'm at my friend Nick's house, I can generally count on certain spices being in stock at all times: dried parsley, curry powder, celery seed, and he's generally happy to snag some onion, garlic, and red lentils when I come over for our weekly hanging outs on Wednesdays (formerly Thursdays, but there you go). We found the red lentils at his local grocery store, and picked up a pound, so that I could make a soup. I made about a gallon or so of soup, and the four of us demolished it. Last night, I made another batch of it, and it turned out rather well.

1 tsp olive or canola oil

2 medium onions, chopped small

1 head of garlic, peeled and roughly chopped

Pinch of celery seed

3 tsp curry powder

1 bunch of fresh parsley, or a couple of tablespoons of dried

Salt and black pepper, to taste (you can use cayenne pepper, red chile flakes, or any others you like)

1 lb red lentils (these cook up in 20 minutes, no soaking needed)

About 5 litres of water (some will evaporate)

Add onions, garlic, and olive oil to the pot, over medium high heat, and cover the lid after stirring well. Let them cook until completely softened. This took us about 25 minutes last night, on the stove that hates to be controlled. I would try to set it on low, and it would turn off. I settled on medium to let it cook for a longer time without browning. When you have such a small amount of oil, it'll want to make everything get burned rather quickly. The lower heat allows the juices of the onions and garlic to come out slowly, and prevent the burning.

When the onions and garlic are soft, throw in the celery seed, curry powder, and dried parsley. If you're using fresh, just add it at the last 5 minutes of cooking, and not at this point. Stir the spices with the onions and garlic, and continue to cook over medium heat (uncovered) for about two or three minutes. You want the raw taste of the spices to cook out.

Add the pound of red lentils, and stir thoroughly with the spices and aromatics. Add the water, and let it come to the boil (covered) on high heat. Let it continue to boil over high heat for about 20 minutes, or until the lentils are completely cooked down. Add more water as desired.

We powered through almost the entire pot last night. It was brothy and tasty, and we just kept going back for extra helpings, even though there was plenty of other stuff to eat.

Beginner cooking, Pasta

Today, we discuss beginner's recipes. Specifically, we attack pasta. When you're making pasta, I find that it's good to make a sauce while you're waiting for the pasta water to come to a boil.

Garlic and Herb Sauce

3 or 4 TB olive oil

1 TB Italian seasoning (or, a combination of dried basil, dried oregano, dried marjoram, and dried thyme)

1 head of garlic, peeled and chopped

1 bunch of parsley, chopped finely

1/4 cup of pasta cooking water

Few pinches of red chile flakes

Heat the oil over medium low heat, and add the garlic and herbs. When the garlic is soft, add the fresh parsley, pasta water, and the (optional) red chile flakes. Turn off the heat, and wait for the pasta to finish cooking. Toss through with about 1 lb of cooked pasta of your choice.

This works really well with any kind of additions, like leftover veg (kale, broccoli rabe, etc), capers, olives, or beans. It's also a pretty basic starting point for if expanding into tomato sauces, etc., because once you master garlic and herbs, the sky is the limit!