Food!!

BISI BELE BHATH -Delight in Nutrition

“What is your favorite dish?” is a question I have never been able to answer sincerely. Simply because there are too many and they change too often, depending on the season, situation, or my mood in general. But ask me another question. Is there a dish I can eat for days or months at  a stretch without getting bored? I think yes, I can answer that with a simple response - ‘Bisibele Bhath!’

Having grown in the city of Bangalore in South India, my first encounter with this delicious hot-lentil-sour-rice dish was at a temple. On a festive day when rituals are celebrated at a large scale, many temples in India are seen distributing a small bowl of ‘prasadam’’ - an edible religious offering, to worshippers at the exit. The prasadam is usually a milk based sweet candy in India’s northern regions but in the South, it is often a rice based spicy dish. Bisibele bhath is one such dish prepared twice a year in most temples.

Standing between the carved wooden railing at the temple exit, I was barely excited about the small leaf bowl of prasadam being handed out to me. I was a spoilt child, not very interested in eating prasadam. But out of respect, I still accepted it.  Little did I know, one bowl would seem too less after a while. Little did I know, I’d learn the name of a new dish that day. Little did I know, this well-known dish in the South Indian cuisine would come to my rescue every time I needed some TLC.

This was probably the beginning of troubles in the kitchen at home. Being North Indians, we had a cook who often prepared North Indian delicacies but was not well acquainted with the nuances of South Indian cooking. Although Bisibele bhath was a well-known dish, it was rarely made in most restaurants. Probably because the traditional preparation of this dish is quite elaborate and demands a lot of time. At that time, the dry masala powder used in its preparations was not readily available in the markets and was often made from scratch by very few homemakers. To my dismay, the cook had no way of knowing what I was talking about and what this dish tasted like. My mother had gotten tired of my ‘requests’ to make the bisibele-something-rice we had at the temple. Fortunately, our South Indian maid knew exactly what bisibele bhath was, and to my mother’s relief, shared the recipe of its roasted, powdered masala and taught them how to prepare this miracle.

True to it’s character, Bisibele bhath belongs to royalty. This lentil and rice dish originated within the walls of the Mysore Palace in Karnataka about 300 years ago, where it was laden with pure ghee and dominated by the aromatic flavors of fenugreek seeds, mustard seeds, cashews, cinnamon, cloves, turmeric, coconut and even cardamom. The original version has seen many variations ever since. As the recipe leaked out of the palace kitchens and spread to the western parts of Karnataka flocked with vegetarian eateries, it was modified in taste with the addition of many vegetables, making it a complete and nutritious meal in itself. It was and still is often served along with crunchy potato chips and fried ‘papadams’ to satisfy the Indian penchant for crunchiness.

“What is so wonderful about bisibele bhath?” you may ask. I’m not so sure. But I do know, this was the first dish I really wanted to learn to cook, for fear of ever losing access to it. It is nutritious, wholesome and is almost a balanced meal when combined with ‘raita’ or light yoghurt dip. My mother has often pampered me or cheered me up with a large bowl of traditionally prepared steaming bisibele bhath and I have devised my own secret shortcut to making this dish within an hour. This is not just my comfort food, its my ‘memory of good times’ food. It’s my mother’s ‘daughter food.’

Today, Bisibele Bhath has gained popularity and its ready-made masalas and microwaveable packs can be picked off the shelves of many supermarkets. It constitutes for mid day meals, lunch and even dinner in many homes and restaurants. Bisibele bhath has popularly paved its way into North Indian kitchens like mine where it serves as a healthy meal for fussy eaters. A poor man’s source of delight and a rich man’s source of nutrition, anyone who has ever eaten bisibele bhath out of a banana leaf bowl in a temple, would swear it is divine! And the best is served at the temple, even if only twice a year.

FOOD TALK!

After four weeks of going to a food writing course, thinking about food and writing about food, I found myself getting caught in this web of food talking. It was my way of getting back at food, for not exciting me as much as it seemed to excite others. Little did I know, it was getting back at me! I had started skating in the mayonnaise, or going nowhere, according to the French idiom ‘patinant dans la mayonnaise.’

Food talking in a nutshell, was a hard nut to crack*. I went bananas* while trying to figure out some idioms and metaphors while many others cracked me up! ‘What the Huck,’ I remembered. Swimming in chocolate or bicycling in yogurt sounded like fun even if the French said it would get me nowhere! And this was the beginning, of my husband being subject to conversations ending with ‘cook yourself an egg,’ for a long time, before he found this French idiom meant ‘go to hell.’

In my quest for appetizers to gratify this new found hunger for food images, I was overwhelmed by the four course phraseology meals served by numerous cultures across the world, in different languages. I do not want to over egg the pudding* by presenting a platter of innumerable exotic mouthfuls. Instead, I've picked the cream of the crop* in the list that follows, to whet your appetite*!

Not for all the tea in China!

Literally meaning ‘for nothing in the world’ or ‘at no cost,’ this phrase has been declared to be of Australian origin by the Oxford English Dictionary. It originated in the early 20th century and can be traced to J. J. Mann's travelogue Round the world in a motor car, 1914. Obviously this reference is to the fact that China is one of the biggest producers of tea in the world and anybody who is not willing to trade for all the tea in China is very determined not to change his mind.

I’ve got bigger fish to fry

Widely used in both Irish and British culture, this phrase means that there are more important (bigger) things that a person has to do when compared to what is being done at present. The first known reference of this idiom in writing was in a book called The Memoirs, written by English writer and gardener John Evelyn in 1660.  

What would a monkey know about the taste of ginger?

A very popular saying in the northern regions of India, ‘bandar kya jaane adrak ka swaad’ is an insulting phrase which suggests that an opinion expressed by someone else does not have credit, due to their lack of knowledge/taste about the subject at hand.

Have tomatoes on the eyes

The German expression ‘Tomaten auf den Augen haben’ is an idiom which means ‘you must be blind.’ Tomatoes are referred to in this phrase due to their red color, which is also the color of the eyes of a person who is sleepy or too tired to notice what’s going on in their surroundings and therefore, ‘gone blind.’

Has the heart of an artichoke

A person who is said to have an artichoke heart is one who falls in love very frequently and easily. The definition resonates with the center of the artichoke which is called its heart and its many leaves which denote different love interests. The term was coined in the 19th century and is a translation of the French expression "Cœur d'artichaut."

Mutton dressed as lamb

This is an idiom referring to a woman who is dressed in a manner much younger than her age. It was a disparaging description and was first found in print in the gossip journal compiled by Mrs. Frances Calvert in 1811. The term was derived from the ‘dressing up’ or preparation of an item before it was cooked. Similarly, women in the 19th century were said to be ready for a romantic encounter when they dressed themselves up, often trying to appear younger than their age, mutton dressed as lamb.

The list of food related phrases is infinite and many of these have now become a part of speech of the common man and not just the grated cheese or should I say ‘le gratin.’  Interestingly, food imagery has gone beyond phrases used in day to day life. It has been artfully used by Chinese philosophers to explain the creation of literature. They said “a writer’s ideas are like grains of uncooked rice. When the grains are boiled into porridge, that is prose; when they are fermented into wine, that is poetry.”*

Food imagery as I realize, has been used to describe and differentiate between anything from character to circumstance. Everything from soup to nuts* has made its way in this artful play of words, which seems to be as easy as apple pie.* As George Eliot said, “metaphors steer our attention and we act on the strength of them.” Food imagery seems to do much more than that. It creates legacies that define every generation!

Meanings of imagery used, marked with * :

Skating in the mayonnaise, swimming in chocolate, bicycling in yogurt - going nowhere

In a nutshell - Briefly, in a few words

Hard nut to crack - a difficult person or thing to deal with or get to know

To go bananas - to become highly excited, to behave in a crazy way

Over egg the pudding - To exaggerate or to ruin something by trying too hard to improve it.

The cream of the crop - the best of a group, the top choice

Whet your appetite -To have your interest in something, especially food, stimulated.

Grated cheese – the elite

Everything from soup to nuts - almost everything that one can think of

As easy as pie - very easy

** Food in Chinese Culture: Anthropological and Historical Perspectives - K.C. Chang

AAM PANNA - RAW MANGO DRINK

Summers in India are often welcomed with mixed emotions. Some people love the summer season, others hate it. Understandably, since the scorching heat and frequent power cuts make these months most difficult for the common man. Why would anyone love this season then? Because the Mango, known as the king of fruits in India, arrives in abundance in the summers, providing solace to parched throats and craving souls alike.

And what an arrival! Every state in India boasts of a variety of mangoes that taste, smell and look different. Right from tiny mangoes that are as small as ping-pong balls to those that weigh around 6.5 pounds each, this fruit dominates the kitchens of most Indian houses that use it to make anything from tangy juices to milk shakes, spicy curries to sweet rice and candy strips to pickles and chutneys.

The healing properties of the mango are another reason for its status as a royal fruit. While a fully ripened Mango is rich in the cancer fighting agent Vitamin A (beta-carotene), it is also a source of Vitamin C, Vitamin B1, and B2, niacin, potassium, iron and fiber. Mangoes are good for the kidneys, digestive system of the body and the skin.  They help in relieving clogged skin pores, reducing cysts, excess body heat and fever.  

There are over a thousand varieties of mangoes cultivated in the Indian states, but only 30 of these are commercially grown. Some popular varieties include the ‘Alphonso’, ‘Dasheri’, ‘Langda’ and ‘Chounsa’ mango. While India accounts for about 50% of the world’s mango production, other countries like China, Thailand, Mexico, Pakistan, Philippines, Indonesia, Brazil, Nigeria and Egypt constitute the rest.

Belonging to the same family as the cashew and pistachio nut, Mangoes  first grew in Southeast Asia and India. It is said that  Buddha himself meditated under a mango tree, because of which the fruit is considered sacred by many people in these regions. Mango cultivation spread to eastern Asia in the 4th and 5th centuries BC through Buddhist Monks, to the Middle East and East Africa in the 10th century through Persian traders and to South America, the Philippines and West Africa through the Portuguese who came to India in the 15th century.

While the mango is devoured in its fully ripened stage, an unripe mango holds great importance in many Indian homes. It is the main ingredient in the preparation of ‘Aam Panna’ a tangy-sweet drink which is a tasty and affordable way to fight the intense Indian summers. The Aam Panna  is an effective remedy for heat stroke and prevents the excessive loss of sodium chloride and iron during summer.

Often served in weddings and other celebrations that take place during Indian summers, the Aam Panna has many variations in terms of taste and consistency. It’s tangy flavor is sometimes enhanced with the addition of lime juice while at other times it may be marred with the addition of either jaggery or sugar.

There are many reasons to try this Aam Panna recipe. (One of them is that it is too delicious to be as healthy as it is!)

Things you'll need:

Raw Mangoes - 4

Water - 4-5 cups

Mint Leaves 5-6

Sugar - 1 cup

Black Salt - 1 tbsp.

Cumin seed (Jeera) - ½ tbsp.  

Method:

• Wash and cut mangoes into big pieces.
• Pressure cook the mango pieces along with the stones and water for two whistles. Alternatively, boil in a deep pan until tender.
• Allow to cool and then peel.
• Dry roast cumin seeds on a pan. After roasting, crush on flat tray with rolling pin.
• Combine the mango pulp, sugar and mint leaves in a blender and blend well.
• Add salt and cumin seed powder to this. Mix well.
• Transfer the mixture into a bottle and refrigerate.
• To serve, combine one cup of the concentrate with two cups of chilled water.
• Serve in a tall glass, garnished with mint leaves.

BIG NIGHT (1996) - A Review

What makes a movie outstanding? Its actors? The plot? An open, inconclusive ending? Or is it the confidence portrayed in its subtlety? Confidence. Yes. Maybe it is this quality of the filmmaker - who does not seek desperate measures to sell his movie that makes it timeless and always appealing.  

Big Night is a movie that makes its audiences think so many things and at the same time, leaves them at a loss for words to express those thoughts. It is not a movie about food as we all believe it to be. It’s not a movie about immigrants trying to make a living. It certainly is not about two guys trying to revive a restaurant that is close to bankruptcy. Instead, Big Night is a movie about two brothers, their culinary pride, and affection for each other. About their sincerity, principles, and then in some places, their flaws... It’s about the conflict between the ‘right way’ and the ‘profitable way;’ the choice of either maintaining ‘authenticity’ or counterfeiting recipes in order to suit local tastes. It’s almost about taking a stand for who you are … and losing.

The movie is set in New York in the 1950’s, with its protagonists Primo (Tony Shalhoub) and his younger brother, named Secondo (Stanley Tucci) running an authentic Italian restaurant called ‘The Paradise.’ Primo is an excellent Chef, a fact well known by him, Secondo and even by Pascal (Ian Holm), the successful  Italian restaurateur across the street. However, their restaurant is running out of money since a taste for authentic Italian food has not yet developed in most people in New York at this time and Primo refuses to ‘Americanize’ his dishes. He is in fact infuriated when a guest asks for a side of spaghetti and meatballs to go with her risotto. The brothers’ pride in their cuisine and culinary expertise is obvious when Primo is caught muttering "the rape of cuisine" in his kitchen.

At the same time, Primo is optimistic about the restaurant and is unaware of their financial situation. One of his frequent customers pays him with a  painting every time he eats there and Primo is happy with it. He believes that in time, things will work out for them. He sarcastically responds to Secondo’s suggestion of taking risotto off the menu with his own suggestion of adding hot dog instead. Afterwards, he says “If you give people time, they learn.” He believes they will.

Shortly after, Secondo in his desperation seeks help from Pascal. Pascal’s belief is different from that of the brothers. He says, “Give to people what they want. Then later you can give them what you want.” Primo hates him for the way he has stolen from Italian cuisine and made a successful business out of it. One of the remarks Primo makes in this regard is "the man should be in prison for the food he serves."

While talking to Secondo, Pascal says he may not be able to help financially but can help by having his good friend Louis Prima, a famous Italian-American bandleader, visit their restaurant for a grand banquet. Louis Prima’s visit would bring with it the press and eventually, great promotion for The Paradise. This idea excites Secondo, and when he puts forth the same to Primo, his response is  “people should come just for the food.” Eventually, Primo agrees and both brothers put their best recipes together for the grand meal.

The movie takes off from here, with the brothers hand-picking their ingredients and inviting everyone they come across - from the greengrocer to the Cadillac Salesman for the big night. Preparations for the event look simple because their main focus is the food for the big night which dominates the second half of the movie. The tables are laid and all expected guests along with reporters, photographers and music pour in. The ‘Ay Mambo’ number is thrown in and as much as you enjoy the energy on screen, it is only the starting of much more, leading to a much awaited banquet by all guests, sans Louis Prima.

This is probably one of those scenes that can make you hungry, for the menu is not just exotic, but as is visible by the guests’ content expressions, heavenly! It gets even more real when you see the content on the brothers’ face after they serve soup. There is a subtle hint of pride, the kind that is so much a part of their character that you could easily have overlooked it. The risotto and timballo leave the guests with an orgasmic appetite they cannot satisfy enough. At one point, Pascal seems to have lost it, fiercely exclaiming “ God--mn it, I should kill you...” he walks to Primo and in a choking voice repeats “this is so ---- good, I should kill you.” The after effects of this enormous meal are almost comic, with most guests looking tired and weak, and one of them crying, complaining ‘’my mother was such a terrible cook.” Only the best artists in the world can make you weep. This scene says it all!

However, towards the end, this cheery atmosphere subsides as Pascal’s real intentions become obvious. Secondo confronts him, saying ‘You are nothing.’ This statement at a time when Secondo seems to have lost all that he had, is not just bold, but also highlights his faith in his skills and his unwillingness to give up.

Written by Joseph Tropiano and Stanley Tucci, and co-directed by Tucci and Campbell Scott, Big Night is a movie that speaks loudly about integrity in art - wearing this mask of exotic food and its business; for otherwise, it would be difficult for the world to recognise and appreciate these fading qualities.  Shalhoub and Tucci are excellent actors displaying powerful tools of expression, attitude and understated confidence in the movie. They do justice to this idea of art, integrity and independence. A movie worth the 90 minutes it demands, Big Night is a must watch!

BLACK SALT (Sanchal) - The Magic Ingredient

                                      

Don’t judge a book by its cover. Never judge salt by its color.

This is a lesson I learnt early in childhood, one evening after school, when the maid left a tray of fresh-cut fruits on the table. This was a routine we were not too fond of. That day, it was a little different because we noticed a pink colored powder sprinkled over the apple slices. My brothers, who were of the age when boys spend all their energy and creativity on making the grossest possible remarks on edible stuff, were unstoppable.

“What is this stinky thing on my apple? Eww”

“It looks like your pink pony’s powdered pink blood”

“I think the maid is poisoning us and Ma hasn’t noticed yet??”

Amidst many such remarks, I stretched my arm across the table to grab a bowl for the grapes because I could not risk eating apples with the grunting voices and piggy faces of my two brothers around.

After a while, Ma walked in and asked us the same questions as everyday.

‘‘How was school?’’

‘’Did you finish your tiffin today?’’

‘’I think you should also take a carrot to school like your brothers, it’s good for your eyes...’’

And then suddenly, a new question ‘’Why has no one touched the apples??”

This was unexpected. Yes, really. All three of us were so lost talking about school and friends and teachers, we did not realise Ma would notice we hadn’t touched the apples. As she reached out to grab a slice, my kid brother intervened. “Ma, it’s dirty, it either has pink powdered blood over it or it could also be poison...don’t eat it.” As amused as Ma was, she stared at my elder brother, knowing well that only he could implant such crazy thoughts in his head. Taking a bite, she said, ‘This is just salt. It’s pink in color because it is Black Salt.”

Looking at each other’s faces, trying to act like we knew this, my elder brother and I faked ‘coolness’ and our expressions said ‘yeah, we were kidding all this time’ to my younger brother. At the same time, with the same attitude of coolness, I picked a slice of apple and bit into its crunchy juiciness, allowing the subtle tangy flavor of the black salt and apple to awaken a new taste bud on my tongue, making me love it but leaving me a little confused with its smell since table salt never really had a smell.

The following few days, weeks, and months after this, black salt became an ingredient I tried adding to everything I ate/drank as often as possible. It was almost like an experiment, a magic ingredient that made any dish a little tastier without dominating its flavor. I added black salt at dinner time to the salad on my plate, and I loved it. I added it to the sambar, okra, potato gravy, raita, kebabs, tikkas, chats...every dish that was tasty but could get tastier.

Which is probably why I never added it to milk. Milk was never tasty except when it had a few dollops of ice-cream mixed in, thus making it an ice-cream milkshake. And even though I did not know how to cook at that time, I knew that anything that needs to be mixed with ice cream to make it tasty, is not capable of getting any tastier than that.

So yes, milk aside, I added black salt to my orange juice at breakfast time. To coca-cola, pepsi, and any other aerated drinks on the rare occasions that I drank them. I managed to unintentionally but successfully gross out my brother the day I added black salt to our favorite ‘instant maggi noodles.’ Well, I should have known better. Some things like instant noodles are better left untouched because they are so perfect already.  This I realised after many many years of making infinitely unsuccessful alterations to 'maggi.'

My obsession with black salt has diminished over the years, but not ended. I no longer add it to my drinks or curries. Yet, I often find myself squeezing some lime juice in a bowl, adding black salt to it and dipping my salad into this mixture for every bite I take. My craving for spicy and tangy food is abnormally higher than that of most Indians, so, very often I have this mixture with green pepper when the entree’ (especially when I cook) isn't as hot as I wished.

As a spice that has low sodium content* compared to table salt and is rich in iron and lots of other vitamins*, black salt has long been ignored. It blends well with most Indian and Mughal dishes and is known to relieve various stomach problems, heartburn and flatulence.**

My favorite ingredient, black salt has made it simpler for me to adapt a healthy diet by lending its light flavor to many fruits, vegetables and chutneys that I eat more often - ever since the maid sprinkled this pink powder on the apples that evening.