Polenta Upma with Chili Prawns

(continued) Chapter 5: New York (2012 - 2018)

Things always happen for a reason.

A motto I live & swear by. Every little incident in our life works itself up to a moment that’s just supposed to be.

In summer of 2014, we took a road trip on the western part of Canada. We had initially planned on going to South America or Japan, but visas and other complications had resulted in us looking at something closer to home, with easier logistics. Since Canada wasn’t out first choice of destination, we had been a little laid back in our research (which, for those who know us, is very unlike us!). We had seen a bit of the US and (ignorantly) felt it’ll be similar. But hey, the best experiences are the ones that are undesigned.

The trip did not disappoint, and every turn took us by surprise. From the scenery and hiking, to the people, and all the Airbnb’s we booked, everything was beyond expectation. Everyone was so helpful that at first we were anxious - I mean why did the young fella at the gas station offer to take our credit card in to the shop to try and swipe it, when it continuously refused to work at the pump. Turns out, he thought we could use a hand. We would never do that in NYC.

It was the first time we used Airbnb - little did I know then what a significant part of me it’ll become in the future. One such last minute reservation was at a quaint apartment in Canmore, near Banff. Since we hadn’t done much planning, we were booking as we traveled. Being summer, there was not much left near Banff, and we could only find a private room at this accommodation. Skeptical at first since there were few reviews, we decided to go ahead and book. The owner was meant to be there during our stay, but last minute he decided to go spend time with family, and wrote to us apologising that he won’t be there to greet us. We could have his entire place. Another surprise!

His place was beautiful. From thoughtful touches and a balcony that overlooked foxes and deer, to a running trail nearby which ran through fields (and we later found out, through an area of bears!), it was a relaxing last leg of our journey. One of the nights, we decided to stay in and cook. I messaged the owner asking if it was ok to use the kitchen, and if he had any basic spices/condiments I could use. He sent back just a smiley face. And followed a few minutes later with a note “Open the door next to the kitchen counter”. So I did. What lay beyond was a chef’s dream come true! A walk in wardrobe of spices, sauces, legumes and everything else you’d ever need under the sun to cook. I was a kid in a candy shop. How lucky did we get!

We cranked up the music, opened a few bottles of wine, and had the best meal + evening of our lives. My husband and I still think back on that evening with such fondness. A meal that was unplanned, but so memorable. A stay that was unplanned, but we wouldn’t trade it for any other. A trip that was so unplanned, but is on top of our adventures now.

Till date, we still refer to that meal as “Let’s cook the Canmore dinner!”

Today I share the no-recipe recipe of the dish I cooked that night - Polenta Upma with Chili Prawns - and remind you that one day you will look back at the most insignificant moments of your life, and be in awe of how clearly you remember them. Because, they were just meant to be.

(The dish itself is inspired by the famous “shrimp and grits” - a popular Southern American dish. As I love to do, I have added an Indian twist to it by cooking Polenta like ‘Upma’ which is a breakfast dish in Southern Indian usually made with Semolina, and served it up with some quick fiery prawns/shrimps)

Ingredients

For the Upma

1/2 cup Polenta

2 cups water

1/2 cup veggies of choice, finely chopped (I used carrots, red & green pepper and peas)

1/4 onion, finely chopped

1 tsp grated ginger

5-6 curry leaves

1/2 tsp mustard seeds

1/2 tsp cumin seeds

A pinch of hing or asafoetida

1/4 tsp paprika

1/4 tsp cumin powder

1/4 tsp turmeric powder

2 tbsp olive oil

Salt to taste

For the Prawns

200 g prawns, cleaned and de veined

2 tbsp butter

3-4 green chilies, finely chopped

1 small tomato, finely chopped

2 cloves of garlic, minced

2 tbsp fresh coriander, finely chopped

1/2 tsp paprika or red chili powder

Salt & pepper to taste

Others

Avocado, chopped in cubes

Sour cream

Method

Make the Upma

Heat oil in a non stick pan. Add the cumin and mustards seeds and let them pop. Once hot, add the ginger and curry leaves, and saute for a quick minute. Add the onions, with a little salt, and let them get translucent. Then add all the veggies + dry spices, mix well and cook for a 3-5 minutes. Add water, and bring to a boil. Once boiling, add a bit more salt (to salt the polenta properly) and then slowly add the polenta, stirring continuously so no lumps are formed. Continue stirring till the polenta stops sinking to the bottom. Reduce heat to low, and cook covered for approximately 20 minutes. Keep stirring the polenta every 6-8 minutes to avoid clumping. Add a bit more water if it looks too thick. Remove from heat once it looks creamy (a little lile porridge), but can still be poured out of the pan.

Grease a baking dish and pour the polenta out. Chill for 20-30 minutes. Cut into 2 “ discs or little squares and keep aside (You can skip this step and simply eat it warm with the prawns too. This step if more for plating, and works well when you are serving it as an appetizer)

Make the Prawns

Marinate the prawns for 10-15 minutes in all the ingredients, except the tomatoes and butter. Heat a non stick pan and add butter. Brown a little, and then add tomatoes. Let the tomatoes soften a bit, and then stir in the prawns. Cook on high heat, stirring constantly till the prawns turn pink and begin to brown a little.

Serve hot atop the polenta cakes with some avocado and sour cream!

Indian South African Green Biryani

(continued) Chapter 4: Hong Kong (2009-2012)

Some misconceptions are better off remaining so. They make for better stories.

In summer of 2009, I travelled to South Africa for the first time. It was a 5 of us, including the boyfriend and I, and the idea was to have an adventure, to see South African though a natives eye, and also for me to meet the extended in-law family. Gulp. And trust me, this is one big fat extended Indian family we are talking about.

The trip was one of the best I’ve ever had. And whilst it was an amazing holiday, I couldn’t shake off the nervousness of being alone in a foreign country, and meeting those who could possibly be my future extended in-laws. It wasn’t them, it was me. As days grew close to head to Durban, I wore a smile but deep inside twisted every piece of myself to find comfort. I’ll just pretend I like everything. Or seem excited about all their stories. I mean, how bad could it be?

So, we got to Durban, and much to my relief, they were all so lovely and welcoming. But I am an over analyser. And it’s not my thing to be the focal point of all conversations. As the questions grew, I could feel myself melting inwards - I was Indian, but why couldn’t I stomach the insane amount of spice they were used to? Why wasn’t I religious - aren’t all Indians super religious? Why did I not eat sausages for breakfast? …. I ate little, talked a lot, and wondered if I was answering things appropriately. And even though all questions were in good faith, when our friends decided to skip out for a cricket match, I was thrilled. Escape. Even though I didn’t know a thing about cricket (yes, I am not much of an Indian there as well!).

At the match, I revelled in my feeling of freedom and being away from questioning eyes, and enjoyed some well deserved beer. A tad too much i’m afraid. As we headed home, my future mum-in law insisted we ate a little before heading out for the night - Green Biryani she said. I had never heard of it, so I was curious. Plus, it would be rude to refuse. Too much beer (first) + spicy biryani (after) - not recommended. As we headed out for the evening with my boyfriends’ cousins, I couldn’t be more embarrassed of being sick multiple times. What a way to meet the cousins! So much for trying to be the fun, cool girlfriend. And while I think they all coyly knew, everyone, specially all the aunts, passed it off as a stomach bug I had picked up thanks to the excessive spicy food they’d been feeding me. I suppose no one wanted to believe this girl from India could drink. As for me, I chose not to correct them.

After we left Durban and South Africa, I decided to explore the origin of that very Green Biryani. I found out that it’s another much loved staple in the in-law household, and there are many versions of it in South Africa - differing from family to family. It has a strong similarity to the Indian Biryani, but is less laborious (one pot) and has lots of mint (hence the name) + local spices. All in all, I had to learn it.

Today I share that recipe with you. It’s comfort food in a bowl. The original is meant to be quite spicy, so feel free to tone up or down the chillies based on your taste buds. Hope you enjoy it - but please don’t eat it after too much beer! ;)

Ingredients

2 bunch mint leaves (approx 60gm)

1 bunch coriander leaves (approx 30gm)

6-8 green chilies (more if you want it even hotter!)

2 tbsp ginger garlic paste

1 medium onion, finely chopped

1 tomato

1 tbsp cumin seeds

2 cloves

1 bay leaf

2 green cardamoms

1 cinnamon stick (if you don’t have these whole spices, replace with 1 heaped tbsp Indian biryani powder)

1 tsp garam masala

1 tsp red chili powder

1 tbsp coriander powder

2 cups quick cooking or par boiled rice

500 gm chicken breast, cut into small pieces

1/4 cup olive oil

Salt and pepper to taste

Method

Blend together the mint, coriander, green chilies and tomato with 1/2 cup water to make your ‘green paste’. Keep aside.

Wash and rinse the rice and keep aside.

Heat oil in a non-stick wok. Add all the whole dry spices - cumin seeds, cloves, cardamom, bay leaf and cardamom stick (note: if using biryani powder, just add the cumin seeds here, and add the powder with the spices later). Saute for a quick minute till they get fragrant, and then stir in the ginger garlic paste. Cook for another minute, and then add the onions along with a little salt. Sauté till slightly brown.

Now add the ‘green paste’ made earlier, along with all remaining dry spices (add biryani powder at this stage if using). Cook covered for a few minutes, and then add the chicken. Cook covered till the chicken is almost cooked through, and then stir in the rice. Mix well, and add 1 cup water.

Cover and let the rice cook for at least 15-20 minutes on low heat. Feel free to adjust the water (adding a little at a time) if the rice hasn’t cooked and the biryani looks dry.

Once the rice is tender, open cover to remove any excess liquid (if any). Turn off heat, sprinkle some fresh coriander on top and leave covered for another 10 minutes.

Fluff with a spoon, and serve hot. Goes well with a yogurt dip and poppadams!

Masala Bhindi (Okra)

continued Chapter 2: School - Home - School (1993-2000)

I had a love and hate relationship with boarding school.

I love the friends, confidence, education, memories, ambition, independence, strength and outlook it gave me. I hate that it took away irreplaceable precious time with family.

For 7 years of my young life, I spent only 4 months of holidays each year at home. And while the remaining 8 months were full of learnings and adventures, they couldn’t compensate for things I missed out as a child who is home. I missed learning about the frenzy of festivals and weddings, many of my mothers’ dinner parties, the importance of extended family, getting up to mischief with cousins, being shuttled back and forth from sport or dance classes after school, packed lunches, and many many other such moments of childhood pleasure, that probably seem insignificant at the time, but do create a lasting impression on life.

However, life at school was anything but uneventful. There are countless stories and incidents from 7 years in school that if I sat to relate, the blogosphere would run out of virtual paper. From being ice cream ready at 7 am during our Annual Founders’ Day (School Annual Function) to learning how to manage a (fake) bank account to make canteen purchases, even back then many notable memories revolved around food. And although I didn’t cook at the time, I sure had happy and sad taste buds, and took mental notes of items I would ask my mum to replicate after my days in school were over.

Aloo bhindi (Potato & Okra curry) was one such dish.

In 1995, I fell ill at school. Not the first time, but usually I persevered and told my parents I would get better soon and they needn’t worry. This time, perhaps I was incredibly homesick, but I gave in and begged them to pay me a visit. I just needed a familiar hug I suppose. Not knowing whether they would come, I was resting in my dormitory one morning, while the girls’ around me were busy getting ready for the morning drill - PT (physical training), breakfast, assembly, morning classes. I must’ve drifted off to sleep, and was woken up by my very animated next bed neighbour’s voice loudly relating a story about her dream to someone. Someone who felt and smelt very familiar. I jumped up only to notice my mum, impeccably dressed, sitting by my bedside. Oh joy! I can still see the scene when I close my eyes. I must’ve felt better immediately, because I only remember that day as a day off from classes, and her spending most of the day by my side.

At lunchtime, my lunch was brought up from the mess (as it did for all girls sick in bed). I had no appetite, but decided to take a peek anyway. Aloo bhindi! “This”, I said, “this is the bhindi I was talking about mummy” - I told my mum excitedly. “Taste karo and dekho kaise banaate hai” (Taste and see how they make it). I had mentioned that I loved this dish in school many a times, but couldn’t explain how it might have been cooked. Our family recipe of okra was very different, and as any mum, she had taken it as a challenge to try and make it as they made in school. This was her chance to taste that very dish. She took a bite - “Isn’t it yummy?!”. I asked. She didn’t seem overly impressed, and said “Oh so easy, is mein kuch nahin hai” (there is nothing to this). I grinned, she would never admit defeat.

Years later, I asked her the recipe over the phone to try and cook it. She never understood why I loved it so much (or perhaps why I loved it over her okra recipe!), but the thing is, food is a habit. A habit that takes various shapes and forms in different people. Today I share with you that original Okra & Potato recipe that managed to wipe off much of my memory of being very ill. Such is the magic of food.

Ingredients

175gm okra / ladysfinger / bhindi, chopped

1 potato, cut lengthwise

1/2 onion, finely chopped

1 plum tomato, diced

1 tsp cumin seeds

1 tsp ginger garlic paste

Spice mix (mix and keep aside) : 1 tsp cumin powder, 2 tbsp coriander powder, 1/2 tsp red chili powder, 1/4 tsp turmeric powder, 1/2 tsp garam masala and 1/4 tsp dry mango powder (amchoor).

Fresh coriander to garnish, finely chopped

Salt to taste

6 tbsp light olive oil or sunflower oil

Method

Heat oil in a non stick pan. Add cumin seeds and cook till they begin to splutter. Next add the ginger garlic paste, and let it brown for a few seconds. Then add the onions, with a little salt, and cook till they turn translucent, and begin to brown. Next add the tomatoes, along with the dry spice mix. Mix well and cover and cook on low-medium heat till the tomatoes are fully cooked (5-8 mins). You should be able to easily mash them with a spatula, and the oil should begin to separate from the edges. Make sure this base paste is well cooked and don’t rush this step.

Add the potatoes, along with a little more salt. Mix well and cover and cook for 3-5 minutes, till the edges of the potatoes are browned. Finally add the okra, mix well. Cover and cook for 8-10 minutes or till the okra is tender and the potatoes are full cooked.

Remove cover, turn heat to high and saute for a few minutes till all the spices have coated the vegetables. Garnish with coriander and enjoy hot with steamed rice or rotis (indian flatbread)

Indian Street Food: Egg White Bun Omelette

Chapter 2: School - Home - School (1993-2000)

You can take a child out of boarding school, but you cannot take the boarding out of a child.

In 1992, at the age of 9, I went to an all-girls boarding school in northern India. My brother was already in one for boys since 1990, and although they were different schools with little interaction, it was slightly relieving to know he was somewhere in the same town. Like all children, I had worked hard to get in and was excited that I was selected (mostly because it made my dad so happy!), although I don’t think I fully understood what was really happening. I just went with the flow - or rather didn’t have a choice. All I knew was that my parents were working very hard, saving and sacrificing, to be able to afford this for the both of us. And like all children, I was sad to go. I can only recall that the first few months (or perhaps years), were trying, to say the least.

At that age, there was nothing worse than seeing your parents walk away, and wave you a goodbye from outside the gates. I used to tiptoe as high as I could, and peek through the iron bars till I saw the last of my mums fluttering ‘dupatta’ (Indian clothing) walk away. I held back my tears every.single.time, because no parent wants to leave their child crying. It would just be easier for them. So I swallowed my feelings, and then let them all go on my dormitory bed.

My first bed was close to a window, and that gave me some comfort. There were girls’ who came from far, and those who lived nearby. Those who were unhinged that they were all alone in new surroundings, and others, like me, who let their feelings overwhelm them in the calm of the night. There were girls who broke rules, and those who drowned themselves in their studies. There were girls who were kinder than others, and those who had no visitors for months. As such, boarding school was my introduction to life.

In the years that I grew up, the one thing that I always felt grateful for was how connected my parents tried to remain with us while away. My mother wrote to me once a week (yes, this was way before internet and emails!) and made me promise that I would too. Sometimes a tear would drop on my letter, causing a smudge, and her next letter would have a long excerpt about how much fun we’d have when they visit - which would be very soon. How did she know?! They also always kept their promise to visit us once a month and, while I was only permitted to see them for a day, I took salvage in the realisation that many children never saw their loved ones at all through the term- so in a sense I was lucky. I felt loved and missed.

On such ‘outings’ (as they were called), my brother and I were forever starved. All we wanted to do was eat all of our favourite foods, snuggle with them and as for me, tell them a pile of stories that I had been saving for the day. On one such outing, while smacking our lips over a warm, oozy, slightly spicy bun omelette from a street side vendor, I started crying. When nudged for the reason, I revealed that I hated the eggs in school (reminded me of stale rubber), and had been going hungry most breakfasts. My dad was concerned. They had selected a “non-vegetarian” meals for me in school, but that meant meat & eggs. You could select being vegetarian with egg, but strangely there was no option to be non-vegetarian without egg. So after a bit of back and forth with my school matron, it was agreed I would simply switch to be vegetarian. I could stay without meat, but anything to not eat those eggs again.

This story is central to my dislike for eggs, which remained deeply engrained in me for many many many years. In fact, I truly only re-discovered them again when pregnant in 2015. And when you discover (good) eggs, there is no turning back.

Looking out on a grey rainy day, reminds me of that very school outing, and the day I officially broke up with eggs. It was a strange milestone, but a milestone nonetheless.

Bun Omelette, true to it's name, is a soft bread roll smothered in butter and stuffed with the most delicious, spicy, veg-filled omelette ever. It's a common street food in Northern India (although not the most hygienic!) and provides a great, cheap snack for many on the move.

Years later, when I started eating eggs again, I tried and tested many versions that wouldn’t make me gag. This egg-white bun omelette is surely one of them.

Ingredients

For the Omelette

3-4 egg whites (also delicious with whole eggs if you prefer. Use 2 eggs if using whole)

4 cherry tomatoes, halved

1/4 small onion, finely chopped

1 green chili, chopped

½ cup baby spinach leaves, roughly torn

Some fresh cilantro, finely chopped

½ teaspoon chaat masala (optional-available at most Indian grocery stores)

A pinch of turmeric

A pinch of garam masala (available at most Indian grocery stores)

2 tablespoons light olive oil

2 tablespoons aged cheddar or gouda cheese, grated

Salt & pepper to taste

Others

1 Bread Roll (I used Challah, but you could any soft buns or rolls of choice)

Butter to toast

If you have, cilantro chutney, sriracha mayo or your favourite hot sauce

Method

Beat the egg whites lightly with a pinch of salt and pepper. Keep aside.

Heat oil in a non-stick frying pan. Once hot, add the chilies, tomatoes & onions, with a pinch of salt. Cook till the onions are translucent and the tomatoes are soft enough to crush. Stir in all the dry spices, and cook for a quick few seconds. Add the spinach & cilantro, and cook till the leaves wilt. Add the beaten egg white, stir a little and then let it set. Once set, flip it over, and sprinkle with grated cheese and fold in half. Let the egg cook completely on both sides on medium-low heat. And it really doesn't matter if the omelette looks imperfect or breaks! The flavour will all itself in the mountain of veggies and spices we added.

Put it together

Cut the buns in half. Butter them (generously!) and put face down on the same pan you cooked the egg. Lightly toast each half, and then remove from heat. Add a teaspoon of cilantro chutney/hot sauce/sriracha mayo on one half, followed by the omelette, and close with the other half. Cut into half and enjoy warm with your hands - please no forks and knives here! A cup of masala chai on the side never hurts.