An escaped fugitive, garage door malfunction and deadline extension

Yes, you read it right. This is what our week has been like so far. On Tuesday, a prisoner transfer went horribly wrong when the convict escaped from the parking lot of a Walmart about 30 miles from where we live. The police advised caution; the husband advised locked car doors and my yoga studio started locking the lobby door while we sweated in 105 degree heat and humidity inside. All the school campuses in the surrounding areas, including my kid’s, went into lockdown mode. Four days later the fugitive is still on the loose and the schools are still in lockdown.

With a fugitive running around who knows where the last thing I needed was a broken garage door but that is what happened the very next day. As I slowly backed out of my garage I heard a loud banging/ grating noise, a metal on metal crash of some kind. I had the presence of mind to brake and pull forward. I stopped the car and got out to see that top of my van had crashed into the bottom panel of the garage door which apparently had not rolled all the way back up as it is supposed to.

Being the calm and collected person that I am, I checked the rear of the car for damage. It seemed to be unharmed. Then I noticed that the garage door was off one of its rollers and bent into a V from the middle. Yeah, it was not good. At this point I called up a friend and asked her to pick me up since I was due for a seminar at the kid’s school. Then it dawned on me that I couldn’t leave the garage door open, all banged up and broken, especially with a fugitive who may or may not be looking for just such an opportunity to break into a house for food and shelter. So I told the friend to cancel the pick-up plan and instead ran over to my neighbor’s and banged on her door. At this point, I was panicking slightly. She greeted me in her bathrobe and I told her to come quick, I had an emergency.

The good neighbor that she is, she came, tightening her blue bathrobe around her, took a look at the garage door, climbed a chair to check for damage to my car roof (a couple of scratches) and declared I needed to call a repair man to get the door fixed. Which I did (thanks to Angie’slist) and two hours later a very efficient repair man parked his van in front of my house, assessed the situation and gave me a very reasonable estimate to fix the door. I agreed on the spot and he proceeded to mend the garage door. An hour later the door was fixed and I breathed easy.  

In the entire garage hullabaloo (yeah, I am using that word and sticking to it) I totally forgot to do my weekly blog post. Now that the drama around our house has cooled down, here I am with my sixth blog post of the year (I am running one blog post behind) announcing a two week extension of the “I cooked in my Indian pressure cooker and it didn’t blow up in my face”.

Vegetable pulao in my Prestige pressure pan

The reasons for the extension: One, I haven’t had a chance to write another pressure cooker post. Two, a few friends requested an extension. Three, I have received only a couple of entrees so far, mainly because I haven’t talked about the event much or maybe because the PC is blowing people’s faces more than I thought it did.

So for now, the deadline has been extended to Feb 28. Send in your entrees to jayawagle (at) gmail.com and don’t forget to end the post with “I cooked (insert the name of the dish you cooked) in my Indian pressure cooker and it didn’t blow up in my face!” Also, tell me what PC you use and why. Meanwhile, check these heart warming posts by Anita and Soma.  

Fugitive Update: Four days ago, the escaped fugitive was found and killed in a confrontation. I can keep my garage door open now, not that I would ever do it on purpose.
 

Last minute Brown Rice Bisibelebath with mixed beans for Susan

Lately, my follower count on the blog has been going up and down by a couple, or in other words, stayed constant. I welcome new followers and wonder about the ones who are unfollowing (leaving). Maybe it is because I haven’t been very regular with my posts for almost a year now. There is also the contentious issue of not visiting a bunch of other blogs and leaving comments, which, let’s face it, generates traffic.

I have been for a long time ambivalent about blogging because I simply can’t bring myself to blog-hop all the time. It drains away a lot of my time and energy not to mention distracts me from family matters. I still visit my friend’s blogs, not only for the content and writing but also to catch up with them. There are times when I visit an often-visited-in-the-past but not forgotten blog because I see a link on fb and it sounds interesting.

Siri’s roundup of Wholesome Whole Grain – Brown Rice was one such event that got a quick click on the link. I have never been much of a brown rice eater but her bisibelebath made with brown rice, lentils and loads of veggies screamed, “Cook me”. So I did, with much success. I fed it to my Tamilian friends and they loved it. I have since made it a bunch of times and it tastes good every time. The secret of course is the spice powder that I roasted and grinded based on Siri’s recipe.

I have professed my inability to follow a recipe to a T on this blog before. However, this one time, I did not waver from the original version except for the quantity, which I cut in half. Not only was this an easy one pot meal, it was filling and nutritious and hit the spot just right every time I made it.

Of course, it is human nature, or may be my nature, to fix something that isn’t broken. So the fourth time I made bisibelebath, I decided to make it even more nutritious by adding whole beans instead of just toor dal (split pigeon peas). It turned out pretty good but the spouse and I both agreed the original tasted better. I am listing just the changes that I made to the recipe. Click on Siri’s Bisibelebath to see the original recipe.

Ingredients I changed:
Mixed lentils and beans: 3/4 cup (I used a combination of black eyed peas, whole masoor dal, whole mung beans and toor dal)

Vegetables I used:
Vegetables: 2 cups (a mix of sweet potato, celery, onions, carrots and spinach)

Spice Powder:
Since I roughly halved the recipe, I used about 2 tbsp of the spice powder

This delicious and nutritious bisibelebath goes to Susan who is celebrating and hosting the third anniversary of her popular event MLLA- 37 . Thank you, Susan for accepting my very late entry. This post also goes to Jacqueline's Bookmarked Recipes event created by Ruth of Ruth's Kitchen Experiments.

Is there a recipe from this blog that has become your personal favorite or a recipe you have tweaked to your liking? Let me know.

And if you haven't liked my fb page yet, click on Desisoccermom and do it.

To stalk a brinji

Naina woke up to the insistent ringing of the morning alarm. She considered hitting the snooze button but decided to get up anyways. It was going to be a busy day and she needed a head start. She walked bleary eyed into the kitchen and turned on the tap. She drank a glass of water and then poured two cups of water in a pan, added some sugar, tea leaves and milk. By the time she had finished her morning ablutions, the tea was boiling. A little bit of grated ginger, a final boil and she turned off the heat.

Picture Cue: Bong Mom Cookbook

It was still dark outside as Naina strained the two cups of tea and walked towards the picture window.  She loved this time of the day, sitting by the window, reading a book and sipping her cup of tea. It was calm and peaceful, no jarring sounds of the television and no hustle bustle of daily chores. There was hardly anyone on the sidewalk except an occasional runner jogging past or an early riser walking the dogs.

Of late, she had been noticing an elderly desi ‘uncle’ strolling past the house around the same time. She knew from her parent’s visit last year how these routine walks sometimes became the only respite for the elderly parents. They went stir crazy in the house but couldn’t go anywhere for the lack of public transport. The weather was usually too extreme to take a stroll in the middle of the day. Early mornings or cool evenings was the only time one would see them strolling around the community. The men almost always wore pants pulled above their waists, full sleeved shirt, a cap and shiny new sneakers. If their wives came along, they too would sport matching sneakers under their saris or salwar suits. This man could have been a clone to the other seniors.

As the sun came up over the horizon, Naina put the book down with a sigh. They had invited a few close friends for dinner and she had a lot of cooking ahead of her. She carried the empty cup back to the sink and started preparing for dinner. Her husband, Ajay, and daughter, Nita, were still sleeping and she decided to do all the non-noisy chores first. Out came the whole wheat flour for the chapattis which she quickly and deftly kneaded into a big ball of dough. She rinsed and soaked a combination of toor and masoor dal with plenty of water.

Naina had decided to make brinji for the evening, an exotic south Indian pulao cooked in coconut milk. She decided to turn on the computer and check the recipe once more, “just to make sure I have everything,” she said to herself. The truth was Naina had studiously avoided turning on the computer since morning. She knew once she got on it, a couple of hours would easily go by before she got back to cooking.

“I’ll just check the bookmarked recipe and turn it off,” she reassured her doubting self and logged on. To her credit, she did go straight to the recipe. It called for loads of veggies, a spice paste of cilantro, mint, ginger, garlic and coconut. She decided to jot the recipe down so she wouldn’t have to come back to the computer. “I’ll leave a comment later,” she silently promised herself and the author of the blog.

For the spice paste

Naina stepped out in the backyard to get some mint leaves, marveled a few minutes at the beautiful morning sky that was soon going to turn hot and scorching. She picked a handful of mint leaves and came back in. She pulled out the browning, slimy-at-the-bottom bunch of cilantro from the fridge and dumped the whole thing in a colander. She ran water over it in the sink and started separating the good parts. There was barely half a cup of green leaves left after she was done with the bunch. “He’ll have to run to the grocery store to get some,” she thought with a wince. Just two days ago Ajay had asked her if she had everything she needed for the dinner party.

“Of course I do,” she had said with a confidence that defied the truth. He just looked at her with a resigned look that said, “I know I will have to run to the store at the last minute but I hope this time you are right and I won’t have to.” Naina hadn’t been lying. She just hadn’t bet on the cilantro turning bad so fast. Or rather, she had ignored to check on the cilantro because picking and cleaning cilantro was her least favorite things to do, as was picking and cleaning green beans, podding peas, cutting arbi and bhindi (okra). Coming to the US had changed all that. She got frozen green beans and sweet peas all ready to use. She had tried the frozen arbi and bhindi, all cut up and frozen. Those had been major slim-fest disasters.

It was eight o’clock by the time Naina had all the ingredients for the spice paste. She considered holding off on starting the magic bullet to grind the paste and then decided to go ahead. “Maybe today they can wake up to the whirring of the blender,” she smiled at the thought and plugged it in. The sharp aromas of ginger, garlic jostled with the fragrant mint and the nutty coconut as Naina opened the jar. Even then she knew that the brinji would be the highlight of the dinner.

She spent the rest of the day chopping, sautéing, stirring and frying. Two hours to dinner and she still had to clean the kitchen counter tops, load the dishwasher and clean the bathroom. The brinji was to be served hot, but she had prepared everything else. She sped up on the chores and remembered at the last minute to soak the rice in water before hitting the shower. She looked back appreciatively at the island counter. Steaming palak paneer, aromatic mattar paneer, pipping hot dal and warm rotis has been carefully transferred to white serving platters and covered with cellophane. Ajay was working on the salad and reading the instructions on the frozen pizza box he was planning to cook for the kids. The house looked clean, the toddler’s toys were under control. “Now, only if the guests would come on time,” even as she said it, she knew it was not something one expected of one’s desi friends.

All dewy from the shower, Naina went into the closet to pick out a t-shirt and at the last minute decided to wear something ethnic. She looked over her collection of sarees and salwar suits and chose a mauve salwar kameez she hadn’t had a chance to wear in a long time. A pair of small earring, a touch of mascara and she was ready.

“Naina, are you done?” Ajay asked from the door.

“Yes, I am coming. What’s the matter?” she asked with a hint of irritation in her voice. He was always harping on her about her long showers.

“There is a desi uncle in our living room,” he whispered.

“What? Do we know him,” she asked perplexed. They weren’t expecting any uncles or aunties for that matter.

“Come out, I’ll tell you later,” he said as he turned around.

Naina walked into the living room to find the desi uncle she had been observing taking a walk in the morning sitting on the couch, reading a Time magazine.

“Namaste uncle,” she said politely. She was too puzzled to say anything else.

“Namaste beti. I see you reading in the window every morning when I go for my morning walks. Today, I thought I will stop by,” he said.

Now that she could see him up close, Naina noticed he had beady eyes under his thick glasses and wispy, grey hair. He seemed to be in his late 70s.

“No problem uncle,” she said politely. “Good of you to stop by but today is not a good time. We are expecting guests over for dinner anytime…”

Before she could finish he clapped excitedly. “Desi friends? Good, I haven’t met a lot of desi people since I came here. It will be good to meet them. I’ll stick around. Don’t worry, do what you need to do. I will read this magazine till they come,” he said as he proceeded to settle himself comfortably on the couch.

Naina looked at Ajay who shrugged and motioned her to come to the kitchen.

“Why is he staying around? Who is he? Do you know him?” she blasted him with a flurry of questions.

“Calm down,” he said. “I don’t know him but it looks like he is lonely. He was telling me before that he stays all by himself the whole day while his son and daughter-in-law go to work.”

“So he decides to drop by our house and then stay for dinner!” she exclaimed.

“Well, we can’t do much about it now. At least it will make for an interesting evening,” he said with a chuckle.

“Leave you to find humor in a party crasher,” she found herself smiling as well.

Then there was the brinji to be made still. She set the big pan on the gas burner and took out the whole spices and the chopped onions. In went the spices in the sizzling oil, followed by the onions. She lowered the heat and let the onions caramelize. The green spice paste went in the browned onions. As the paste sizzled, Naina smelled the mint, coconut and the whole spices coming together in harmony. For a while she even forgot about the septuagenarian sitting in her living room reading Time magazine.

Of quiet husbands and risotto surprises

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction (except for the recipe) and may or may not have some resemblence to persons living.

“You are going to be late for class,” he said as she dunked her toast and sipped her tea at a leisurely pace.

“Don’t worry, I have plenty of time. It takes 25 minutes to reach school, 35 max if there is traffic,” she replied in her nonchalant way.

He just shrugged and went back to reading his book. He knew it wouldn’t do any good to point out that the traffic increased at this time of the day.

She had always been like this, relaxed and completely out of sync with time; he sometimes wondered how she got anything done at all.

Earlier in their marriage, he used to get exasperated. “I am so glad you are not a doctor. Your patients would have died waiting for you on the operating table.” She would just laugh and walk away.

In time, he had learnt to relax around her laid back attitude but there were times when he still bristled when she went about her business as if time was infinite. Most of the time, he just shrugged and let go. It was easier that way, less stressful.

“Ok, I am ready. How do I look?” she asked with that twinkle in her eyes he had grown to love so much.

“Good,” he said. He wasn’t the loquacious one in this union. She pecked him on his cheek, got into the car and sped off.

“I hope she reaches school in time,” he muttered under his breath as he headed back into the house.

He was glad she was finally doing something with her life. The ten years they had been married he had stood by her as she squandered away her life on trivial pursuits instead of doing something productive with her talent.

“At least she woke up before she turned 50,” he thought as he went back to the book he was reading. He had picked it up at a garage sale for a dollar. It was called Risotto, Polenta and Pasta, a Taste of Italy.

He decided he would try his hand at making risotto. He knew she didn’t like him cooking without her present.

“You make too much mess and you are not very efficient with the chopping and the pots and pans. Let me help you,” she would insist.

He hated being told how to cook or her interfering “help”. He had his own ideas and even if he was wrong, he wanted to find it out for himself.

Today was the perfect chance. She won’t be back for another four hours. He can drive down to the grocery store for the supplies; cook to his heart’s content and even clean up the kitchen decently before she came home.

He set about in his meticulous way writing down the ingredients he needed for the risotto. The list was a big point of contention between the two. He believed in them, she didn’t. Today, he gets to do things his own way.

Seductions of rice and Maurice Sendak

I have always had a love hate relationship with rice. I didn’t mind it much growing up. My diet consisted of two rotis with dal and sabzi and a handful of rice to finish off the meal.
The hating began when I started living in a working women’s hostel in Bombay. Every day dinner consisted of rice and a ladle of watery gravy with some scraggly vegetables thrown in. I subsisted on the monotonous meal for a few months before it hit me that I could afford to sneak in a restaurant bought gravy to eat with my rice. It did not in any way diminish the fact that I was forced to eat rice every day and rotis were a weekend luxury at a cousin’s house.
After moving back home and then subsequently getting married, I stayed away from rice as much as I could. Not till I set up my household and got in the grind of every day cooking did it dawn on me how simple the process of making rice was compared to that of making rotis. The first dish I cooked in the microwave (having never used it before coming to the US), was rice.

I was shown by T how easy it was to cook a cup of rice in 15 minutes flat.

Wash the rice 2-3 times in water, pour two cups of water and zap in the microwave for ten minutes, uncovered and another minute or two covered. Boom… the rice was ready.

From Top to clockwise: Wild Rice, Basmati, Parboiled Rice, Ponni Rice and Brown Basmati

Not till I started blogging and exploring the wonderful world of food blogging that I realized how many different varieties of rice were out there. Above is the five types of rice I have in my pantry.

Recently, we acquired Jeffery Alford and Naomi Duguid’s ‘Seductions of Rice’ and were blown away by their years of research and accounts of varieties of rice from all over the world. Here’s an excerpt I found particularly interesting and amusing about the way people in the South and the North of India eat their rice:

“One last word about rice in India and that has to do with eating it. Most people in India eat rice with their right hand, though there are different styles used. People in the south of India joke about how people in the north eat so politely with the ends of their fingers that they look as if they are afraid of getting a grain of rice up past their second knuckle. People in the north think that the people in the south, who eat their rice fingers, palm and all, look crude.”

This is what they say about eating the south Indian way:

“The most important thing to remember when eating rice with your hand is to loosen up and have fun. Here, you can be a kid again. In Southern India, it’s perfectly fine to mush your food around, to make piles of rice and add little bits of curry and pickle and crispy chips or pappadum. When you have the tasty pile just the way you want it, pick it up in your palm and shake it back and forth as if you were about to roll dice at a craps table. This helps the form the pile into a ball, about the size of a gold ball. And then, with a turn of the wrist, pop it in your mouth. This is the way it is done in South India; the secret is in the wrist, in keeping a loose wrist.”

If that way of eating rice doesn’t sound appealing (can you tell I am from the north?), here’s a children’s song by Maurice Sendak, guaranteed to get your kid to eat some chicken soup with rice. He is one of the most acclaimed children’s author and illustrator in the States. But growing up in India, I had never heard of him till a friend gave my son ‘Where the Wild Things Are’ book for his second birthday. He loved it so much, I was reading the book six times a day for two months straight. I am not kidding! By the end of two weeks I could recite it in my sleep.
Wild Things led us to Sendak’s other works and ‘Chicken Soup with Rice’ has since become another favorite bedtime book. Instead of writing the whole rhyme, here’s a you tube video of the song. Also check out his ‘A Alligators all around’, ‘One Was Johnny’ and ‘Once there was a boy name Pierre’.

I am sending off these seductions of rice and chicken soup to Sra’s The Write Taste event.

Decadent Kheer (Rice Pudding)

For me the mere mention of kheer conjures up delicious bowls of sweetened milk laced with raisins, cashews and pistachios. I remember the sweet smell of the cardamom pods being crushed in my mom’s small mortar and pestle. My siblings and I would hang around the kitchen, waiting for my mom to finish her pooja and “naivaidya” (The first offering for the gods), so we could eat the delicious kheer.
In every Indian household, kheer is a popular dessert that is made during religious occasions, for special guests and sometimes if there is too much left over milk. Out here in the good old USA, I don’t get a lot of occasions to make kheer but when I do, I make the much thicker and decadent version of my mom’s recipe.

Ingredients:

½ cup basmati rice
6 cups of whole milk
1 tbsp ghee
½ cup of sugar
¼ cup raisins (I use gold and dark)
1 tbsp cashew nuts
5 – 6 cardamom pods

Wash the rice thrice under cold water, drain the water and keep aside.
In a heavy bottom pan heat the ghee and toast the rice for a few minutes on medium heat.
Add the milk and bring it to a gentle boil. With the heat on med-low, let the milk simmer and bubble. Keep stirring the pot from time to time to prevent the milk from sticking to the bottom of the pan and burning.
In about 30 minutes the milk should reduce to about half. Add the sugar and raisins and stir. Continue to boil the milk till the kheer thickens, another 20 minutes.
Meanwhile, crush the cardamom pods to a powder.
Take the kheer off the heat once the desired thickness is achieved. I like it super thick.
Sprinkle the cardamom powder on the kheer and stir to combine.
Transfer to a serving dish and chill.
Just before serving, fry whole cashews in ghee till golden and garnish on the kheer.

This recipe goes to Meeta's Monthly Mingle hosted by Nags . This month's theme -- Ravishing Rice.

Pretty Peas Pulao (Spiced Rice with green peas)

My mom makes this pulao in a 3 ltr pressure cooker but for reason I can’t remember I started making it in a Cuisneart pan I got as a wedding present. The pan is wide and shallow and it has a tight fitting glass lid. The recipe is easy, does not require too many ingredients and you can add vegetables of your choice (potatoes, green beans, carrots, corn kernels) if you don’t like peas. I use store bought pulao masala but you can use garam masala or curry powder instead. Also, the flavors are best if you use Basmati Rice or any other long grained rice.



Onions, tomatoes, peas and rice simmering in the spices before water is added

Ingredients:

1 cup rice
1 onion, chopped fine
1 big tomato, chopped
½ cup fresh or frozen peas
4-5 garlic cloves
1 tsp cumin
½ tsp turmeric powder
½ tsp red chilli powder
1 tsp pulao masala/ garam masala
2 ½ cups water
Salt to taste

Except for the additional prep time, if cooked on medium heat, the rice will take about 30 mins from start to finish.
Heat the oil and add turmeric and cumin seeds. As they start crackling, add the onions and chopped garlic cloves. Saute till they are translucent.
Add the masala and chilli powder. Saute for 2-3 mins till the smell of raw spices turns fragrant.
Add the tomatoes and some salt. The salt helps the tomatoes release all their juices. Add the peas, stir and put the lid on.
The tomatoes will get tender in a few mins. To this add the washed rice, salt and stir to mix well.
Add 2 ½ cups of water and stir once more before putting the lid back on.
At this point I set the kitchen timer to 20 mins and walk away. I chop the onions and green chili for Tushar’s omelet. Yep, he grew up eating omelet with khichdi and pulao.
Once the timer goes off, turn off the heat and sprinkle with cilantro. Serve with plain yogurt or a salad or in Tushar’s case with an omelet.

This recipe goes to Meeta's Monthly Mingle hosted by Nags . The theme is Ravishing Rice.

Khichdi in a pot (spiced rice and lentils)

I have yet to know of an Indian household where khichdi is not cooked. It is not only easy to cook but nutritious and yummy. Because it is easy to digest khichdi is one of the first solid foods given to kids as well as to people recovering from fever or surgery. It is a staple in my house when I am too tired to cook or want something simple and filling. My DH, Tushar, likes to eat it with an egg omelet. My son and I eat it with a dollop of ghee and some milk. Of course, a majority of Indian households eat it with pappad and pickle.
In Tushar’s home it is always made with washed yellow moong dhal and I have grown to like the way it tastes. However, I grew up with the green moong dhal khichdi. Both taste good but there is a middle ground. In the Kroger store you can get Kohinoor brand basmati rice and lentil blend. It takes the guess work out of measuring rice and lentils separately. It also contains both kinds of lentils so you don’t have to worry about which kind to chose.

Ingredients:

½ cup rice
½ cup + 2 tbsp moong dhal
½ tsp mustard seeds
½ tsp asafetida
1 tsp red chili powder
1 tsp garam masala
Pinch of sugar
Salt to taste
2 cups of water

Wash the rice and lentils 2-3 times and soak with water to cover.
Heat a 3-ltr pressure cooker or a heavy bottom pan with a tight fitting lid.
Add ½ tbsp oil and when it heats up add the mustard seeds.
Once the mustard seeds crackle add asafetida and the soaked rice-lentile mix.
Stir to coat and add red chilli, garam masala, salt and sugar. Stir and over for two min while the mixture comes to a boil.
Add the 2 cups of water and put the lid on the cooker. Wait for two whistles before turning off the heat.
If you are using a heavy bottom pan, it will take about 20 min on medium flame for the khichdi to cook (make sure the lid is on). Just check in between to make sure the rice and lentils are not sticking to the bottom of the pan.
Khichdi is done when the lentils and rice are tender.

Note: You can add additional 1/2 water to the 2 cups of water to make the khichdi softer and runny.

Kanda Poha and Kadak Chai

Sunday morning breakfast in my home is always Kanda Poha with adrak wali chai. My dear husband, Tushar, has perfected the recipe over the years and like all things that he does he has got it down to a science. His favourite chef is Jacque Pappaine and just like the chef Tushar prefers to chop and cut his ingredients before starting the cooking process.
Tushar likes to chop the onions a little coarse and cut the green chilli first lengthwise and then in little pieces. Here in the USA my freezer is always stocked with frozen peas and so we use those year around. But fresh peas work too. You just have to cook them a little longer. Here’s Tushar’s foolproof recipe for kanda poha:


Ingredients:
2 cups thick poha
1 onion, chopped
1 small potato, chopped thin
¼ cup peas, frozen or fresh (optional)

For Tadka:
Rai/ black mustard seeds
½ tsp Haldi/ turmeric
1 green chilli
4-5 curry leaves/ kari patta
½ tsp fennel seeds/ saunf


Method:
Wash the poha twice in water and keep it aside. It should be wet like a sponge but not soaking in water.
Heat oil and add mustard seeds. When they start spluttering, add curry leaves and chopped green chilli, fennel seeds and onion. Let the onions sweat on medium heat till they turn pink.
Add haldi and cook till the smell of raw haldi goes away.
Add the chopped potatoes and the peas and salt them. Cover and cook till the potatoes are fully cooked.
Add the poha and mix the onion-potato-peas together. Add salt and a pinch of sugar. Cover the poha with a lid and let it steam on low for 5 mints.
Turn the heat off and garnish with chopped coriander.
We also like to garnish the poha with sev and where I come from (Indore) we add Pomegranate seeds for added color and crunch. Of course a cup of kadak Ginger tea makes the Poha taste that much better.


The secret to our adrak wali chai is a 50-50 blend of Brook Bond Red Label and Vagh Bakri Chai. We do not like too much milk in it so for every two cups of water we add ¼ cup of 1% milk.

Ingredients:
4 tsps of sugar
2 ¼ tsps of chai patti/ tea leaves
1/2“of ginger root

Method:
We mix the water, milk, sugar and tea leaves and let it come to a boil on medium heat. We have found that this brings out the most flavor of the tea leaves. Once the chai starts boiling we grate ginger in it and let it boil for a couple of more mints. Turn the gas off and let the tea leaves and the ginger give off their flavors. By the time you strain your tea it should be almost a terracotta color. That’s when you know you have kadak chai.