Green Beans Sabji & Hummus Bruschetta [Vegan]

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

As you can tell, I am a storyteller.

And my cheffing business created endless stories. That of a couple who met over a dinner and later told me about their engagement, and that of the chef who hired me for an event but disappeared without paying me, or of the time a (jet lagged) dinner guest fell asleep on my couch…But the one that I love telling the most is about a challenge.

Around late 2014, during my 2nd year as a dining experience host, there was a particular lady guest who wrote to me continuously for a few weeks, saying she had heard a lot about my supperclubs, her friends had been and loved it, and she had been wanting to try. However, she had a problem- she hated Indian food, and wasn’t quite sure if she should book. Baffled me. But I admired her honesty and keenness to try something out of her comfort zone. I had advised her that whilst I couldn’t promise the meal won’t have predominant Indian flavours, I could guarantee that it would be nothing like a regular Indian restaurant meal. In fact, that it was a modern take on the cuisine in the form of a tasting menu, and was meant to appeal to those who were apprehensive. I also offered that I would give her a refund shall she absolutely hate it. And left it at that. Two weeks later, a lady turned up at one of my dinners, and said she had written to me a few times - oh gosh, HER! My nerves wavered a bit. If she was indeed coming, I would’ve liked a warning (most folks who booked were strangers and I rarely knew who would turn up at my table on a particular night) so I could customise the menu. The chef in me gave a cry, but the host in me stood strong. I ran my show as per normal, hoping she wouldn’t gag or run out. Instead, I was delighted that she actually enjoyed herself. She did, however, make a passing mention that she hated green beans, and glad the meal didn’t contain any. I was both relieved and proud after the dinner. It was a brimming clean up session after with a fair few glasses of wine! Those moments after a supperclub were always full of reflection, calm & gratification. I used to absolutely love that ‘dinner-after’ feeling.

A few months later, I got another message from the same lady. She wanted to come back. And this time bring along some friends including her new fiancee. She was a convert- hurrah! The accomplishment I felt cannot be expressed in words. But I had a challenge on hand - to bean or not to bean. I crafted up a menu, greeted her and her friends and set about plating. The night flew by as swiftly as the wine, and as my regular tradition, I spent the last course on the table with the guests, asking their favourite course from the menu. When it came to her, she said, “The last one! the flavour was something I’ve never eaten before and it worked so well with the sticky rice”. I laughed and stood up. I then revealed, “That was a green bean korma…..”. She bowed, as she had promised she would for anyone who could ever make her like green beans. It was a night that ended in many laughs.

I have told this story many a times during my dinners. I love it. Not because it makes me proud, but it re-asserts that what I tell everyone - don’t be afraid to try new things, because you won’t know when life and flavours surprise you.

And although I don’t have that korma recipe today, I do have another with green beans. I hope that lady, wherever she is, will come across this and give it a try. To everyone else, go try something out of your comfort zone today. And fingers crossed there won’t be a chef lurking around ready to fool your taste buds!

Ingredients

For the beans sabji

2 cups green beans, sliced thin

1 medium potato, peeled and diced (optional)

1 small onion, finely chopped

1 small tomato, finely chopped

1/2 tsp cumin seeds

1/2 tsp cumin powder

1/4 tsp turmeric powder

2 tbsp coriander powder

1/4 tsp red chili powder

4 tbsp olive oil

Salt to taste

For the Hummus

1 can of cannelloni beans, drained

2 cloves of garlic

1/2 tsp garam masala powder

1/2 tsp paprika

3 tbsp olive oil

Salt & pepper to taste

Others

Crostini or a good baguette, cut into thin slices

Method

Make the sabji

Heat oil in a non stick pan. Add cumin seeds and wait for them to splutter. Add onions + a little salt, and cook till they soften and start to look translucent. Add tomatoes + all remaining dry spices. Mix well and cook covered till tomatoes are tender and oil begins to separate from the edges. Now add the beans and potatoes, and cover and cook on low-medium heat. Let the beans get a little tender and the potatoes to cook through- will depend on the quality of your potatoes, but approx 10-12 minutes. Remove cover, turn heat to high, and dry any excess liquid. Remove from heat and keep aside.

Make the hummus
Heat oil in a pan. Add the garlic and cook till it browns. Now add the cannelloni beans + all spices and cook on high heat till the beans brown a bit. Cool and blend smooth in a blender. Add a little oil to make smooth if the hummus seems too dry.

Put it together

Spread a little hummus on each crostini or baguette (if serving immediately, toast the baguette a bit). Top with some green beans sabji, and garnish with crushed pistachios. A crowd pleasing vegan appetizer thats so creamy and flavourful!

Chocolate Cherry Brownie Pudding

(continued) Chapter 3: Singapore (2000-2007 / 2008 - 2009)

[Trigger alert- heavy content]

Everything happens for a reason. Even though you don’t see it in that moment.

In Sep 2007, I switched jobs and moved briefly to Hong Kong to be closer to the boyfriend. It was one of the boldest things I’ve done, since I had no idea where that relationship was going yet. In Dec 2007, after fully recovering from the accident (yes, it took a while!), my mum visited Hong Kong. I couldn’t wait for her to meet the boy. I was nervous, but the meeting couldn’t have gone better. We picked a seaside restaurant, ordered loaded nachos, dug in with our hands, and laughed so much. I was overjoyed.

One evening I asked my mum, “How do you know if someone is the one”. And she replied. “You never do really. The only thing you can do is test them in good and bad times. Good times are a ton and easy to test. It’s the tough times that are harder to find.” Little did she know that in a few weeks, she would prove her own statement wrong.

Jan 12, 2008. I can never forget the day. We had our first big couple fight. There was anger on both sides, and we’d planned to meet at a cafe at 4pm to talk it out. In retrospect, it wasn’t a big deal at all. We also had a pizza dinner + movie booked with some friends after. We met, chatted, and life seemed normal again. Pizza was delicious, and with a full belly we got on to the famous Hong Kong city tram for a little ride before the movie. 7pm, my phone rang. I glanced at my phone - it was mum. It was noisy, but I excitedly picked up and said “Guess where I am mummy!”. Silence. Dad spoke. I sensed something wasn’t right the minute I heard his voice on mums mobile. “Oh hi” I’d said “kya ho raha hai “ (what’s happening?). His voice was broken and barely audible. I only heard words “Shuchi…….mummy……robbery……murder”.

I must’ve collapsed because I don’t remember the next few hours. Or the next few weeks or months after that phone call. In a single instant, my entire life - our entire lives- had been turned upside down. In an instant a lot had been taken away. In an instant, I was numb.

I rushed to India with my brother, wishing every minute I would wake up to a dream. I can’t sum up the days or weeks that followed in any number of sentences, but I only remember I tried very hard to make sense of it all. I simply couldn’t. This is stuff you read in the news, it’s not real. It doesn’t happen to real families. Ah, but it does. The rest of 2008 is a complete blur. And all I remember now of those days are the people who were by my side.

My mum was a good person, the glue of the family, a simple & kind heart, an artist, the best cook, the queen of rescue recipes. She could’ve done much more in life, but decided to put family first. I concluded (after many years of the incident) that perhaps this was the challenge, the tough times, she needed me to test, in order to create my own family. Cruel.

I don’t talk about this. Ever. So it has been tough to pen it down. And as I relive that pain, I couldn’t think of a better recipe to commemorate her than one that is something sweet, and born out of disaster. An ungreased brownie pan, several broken brownies, and an accidental custard led me to create this ‘rescue’ pudding.

Take a bite. Hope it helps you see reason during the trying times in your life.

Ingredients

For the brownies

180 g semisweet dark chocolate, broken into pieces

100 g milk chocolate, broken into pieces

2 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa powder

110 g unsalted butter

3 eggs

3/4 cup brown sugar

1/4 teaspoon salt

Dash of vanilla essence

3/4 cup whole wheat flour (Indian atta)

1 cup fresh ripe cherries, pitted and cut into pieces

For the cardamom milk creme

1.5 cups + 2 tablespoons whole milk

2 tablespoons condensed milk

3 green cardamoms, crushed

1 tablespoon corn starch or plain custard powder

Sugar to taste

Method

Make the brownies

(This is my classic brownie recipe, with a few substitutions - fresh seasonal juicy cherries in place of nuts/chocolate chips and healthier wholewheat flour (commonly known as Atta in India) instead of all purpose white flour)

Sift together the flour and salt and keep aside.

Preheat the oven to 350F / 180 C, and grease a brownie pan or mini muffin pan and keep aside. 

Melt together both the chocolates and butter on a water bath (i.e. in a pot placed over another pot of simmering water) till smooth. Mix in the cocoa powder & sugar, and mix well. Let the mixture cool a bit. Once cooled, add the eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition. The mixture will begin to thicken and start to come together. Stir in the vanilla essence and finally add the flour + salt mixture. Mix just enough to incorporate the flour into the batter. Finally add the cherries, reserving some to sprinkle on top. 

Bake the brownies for 20-25 minutes, till a toothpick comes out almost clean, with little bits of cooked batter sticking to it. Unlike cake, if you wait for the toothpick to come out completely clean, the centre will overcook and dry out. Also, if you are using a mini muffin pan, they'll bake much quicker (under 20 minutes), so keep an eye (and nose!) out for them. You definitely do not want to over bake these - a brownie is only as good as it's fudgy centre! However, if you do over bake them, rest assured that this pudding will cover that flaw.

Once baked, cool the brownies to room temperature. These can be stored in airtight container for a week in cool weather. In summer, I'd store them in the fridge after 1-2 days.

Make the cardamom milk creme

In a deep pot, bring 1.5 cups of milk + condensed milk + cardamom to a simmer. Mix the corn starch or custard powder in 2 tbsp milk, and slowly add to the simmering milk. The mixture will begin to thicken. Reduce the heat to a low simmer, and let the milk thicken to half its initial volume. Discard the cardamom skins, adjust sugar, and pour the syrup in mini dessert cups, filling about 1/3rd. Reserve some for the top of the puddings. Refrigerate the cups to chill - the creme will thicken further.

When ready to eat, warm the brownies a little and crush them on top of the cardamom creme. Add more syrup on top. Enjoy the hot and cold, cherry, chocolate and cardamom, do a wonderful dance in your mouth!

Red Korma with Sticky Rice (Vegan/Glutenfree)

(continued) Chapter 3: Singapore (2000-2007 / 2008 - 2009)

Life sometimes takes a full circle, and puts you right back where you started.

When I was really little - think 2 or so - we used to live in the eastern part of Indian - Assam. It is customary in that part of India to eat slightly overcooked / sticky rice. The rice is rolled up in little balls by hand, and then used to scoop up fish curry. During those days, my parents had a ‘didi’ (a young girl who works as a house help and nanny) for me and my brother - Leela. I am told that I used to refuse food unless I got to eat with Leela exactly what and how she ate. She sat on the floor, cross legged, and with unique swiftness rolled her rice and curry. A bite for her, and a tinier bite for me. I can’t quite remember those days much, but I must have loved it, as my preference for sticky rice stays till date.

Basmati (long, fluffy grain) is the more common rice in northern India, so growing up I never did enjoy rice as much, unless it was overcooked by mistake! Moving to Singapore was my full circle - Asian rice is cooked just the way I like it. When I first relocated, as any university going teenager, I relied on junk food. But, as days passed, and living there felt less exotic and more like home, I started to explore the local cuisine at the numerous canteens across campus. Boys came into the picture, and many a ‘study date’ involved a canteen meal.

My first date was in what was known as Canteen B. It was in the business wing of the school, and since both of us were engineering students, it felt right to do this away from suspecting eyes of Canteen A - the engineering common. I grew up in an all girls’ boarding school, and although I was excited, I had no idea what a date meant. As I nervously walked in holding my neatly filed book folders, looking around for the boy in question, I was hit by a smell. Not a pleasant one. Now, I love everything about Singaporean food food, but I have to admit, some of the smells took me a while to get over. I had walked past either a Fish Ball Soup or Char Siew (Bbq pork) stall, but suddenly my stomach felt more than just nerves. What a way to start a date! I swallowed in defiance, and walked towards the table he sat at. He was a second year student, also Indian, but was probably accustomed to all that the local stalls had to offer- he also loved experimenting with local food. He sensed my discomfort (perhaps it was a common element of 1st year Indians or perhaps he had just been on many dates;)), and offered to go for a walk instead. But hey, I have always been a rebel. I couldn’t ruin this, and claimed that I was fine and loved trying new things. So we began our date. I opted for some steamed chicken and rice (it was delish and a favourite till date!), and he got….well…Fish Ball Soup. Hilarious when I think about it now. Hilarious to think how naive I was with boys. And hilarious that he was my boyfriend for majority of the university days!

After that episode, rice was a staple go to meal for me in 4 years of university life. In my opinion, stickier rice absorbs flavours much better, and although I didn’t know it then, I do know now that it also tastes amazing with Indian curries. Todays’ recipe is that of a healthy, vegan Red Dal (Lentil) Korma, subtly spiced with Indian spices and vegetables, and served up with balls of sticky rice. Scoop up each bite of goodness and enjoy!

Ingredients

For the Red Korma

1/2 red pepper, diced

1 small carrot, diced

1 small beetroot, peeled and diced

1 small onion, finely chopped

2 plum tomatoes, diced (or 1/2 can of tinned tomatoes)

2 tsp ginger garlic paste

1 bay leaf

1/2 cup red lentils, washed and drained

1 tsp cumin seeds

2 tbsp coriander powder

1 tsp cumin powder

1/2 tsp red chili powder

1/2 tsp garam masala

1/2 tsp crushed black pepper

1 red chili, seeds removed and diced (leave the seeds in if you want the heat)

4-5 tbsp light olive oil

Salt to taste

Others

1 cup Thai or Asian sticky rice

2 tsp olive oil

Method

Make the rice

Wash and rinse the rice well. Add 2 1/2 cups water, a little salt and oil and bring to a boil. Reduce to a simmer, cover and cook till all the water has been absorbed, and the rice is tender (approx 10-12 minutes). Leave covered for another 5-6 mins. Open cover, mix the rice well with a spoon, and leave aside to cool.

Make the dal korma

Heat oil in a non stick pan. Once hot, add the red chili, bay leaf, cumin seeds and wait for them to splutter. Then add the ginger garlic paste and cook for another minute. Add in the onions + some salt, and cook till the onions turn translucent. Add all the dry spices, mix well, and then add the tomato, carrot, red pepper and beets. Cover and cook till the tomatoes are tender, can be crushed with the back of a spoon, and oil begins to separate from the sides (approx 6-8 minutes, but depends on the ripeness of your tomatoes). Now stir in the lentils, along with 1 cup water. Bring to a boil, and cook till the lentils, carrots and beets are tender and fully cooked. Turn off heat, discard the bay leaf, and blend the korma till smooth. You can eat it chunkier without blending as well, but I like blending so that the flavours really fuse with each other.

To serve, take 1/2 cup of the cooked rice in your hands, and firmly roll into a ball. Continue to roll it till it holds its shape. Serve on top of the delicious Red Korma with some yogurt and crisps of choice!

Smoked Aubergine (Bharta) Wontons

[Continued] Chapter 1: Food As I Knew It (1982-2008)

Why do we have selective memories?

It’s somewhere between 1986 - 1992. I wish I could remember every moment, but alas, I don’t. I do however, remember the many food gatherings and parties my mother hosted, mostly because she was so damn good at them. She was definitely the socialite of the family! And I recall the menus she put together, the dishes everyone raved about and were repeated for most get togethers, and oh…her table settings. Not your usual sit-down table, because in those days in India, men and women usually ate at separate times (men first of course!). And the easiest way to enable this was to put the food out as a buffet. Her buffet came complete with vegetable ornaments, dressed dishes, fancy napkins and flowers. I sometimes laugh when I think back now, because surely the men who hit the food first didn’t notice most of it!

She was a stay-at home mum all her life, but had spent much time with courses such as flower decoration, vegetable carving, painting and baking. She was an artist at heart. I sometimes helped her with flowers cut from vegetables (radish and cucumber roses were my favourite), and loved dunking them in iced water so they would “bloom” and stay fresh ahead of the party. Little did I know back then that these tasks were slowly embedding themselves in my mind, as the foundation to good plating and hosting.

While she got dressed to showcase her hard work to the guests, I hovered over the table, peek inside lids and covers, and work up my appetite. There was always a chicken dish, and a fancy salad or raita (yogurt dip) and several vegetables. But the smell I miss most, the one I adored, was the burnt smoky smell of a good ‘baingan bharta’.

Baingan bharta or smoked curried Aubergine/Eggplant (called Brinjal in India) was not an everyday dish in our home. Mainly, as it takes a few steps to prepare. It has to be smoked on an open flame till the skin falls off. Then cooled, mashed, and slow cooked with indian spices for a deep earthen and spicy-smoky flavour. It needs patience [and a good scrub of the stove after!]. So she saved these for ‘special occasions’. I can still hear her coy giggles when everyone complimented the food.

I miss those days…

People say you cook to feed. I say you cook to feel. Years later, while living in Hong Kong, I dug up that smoked memory and started experimenting with this dish just to be transported back to those simpler times. And my now mature tastebuds surprisingly found the flavours to be quite versatile - going beyond the regular Indian rice and bread pairing.

This recipe is a re-incarnation of those happy days and my mum’s dinner tables, albeit in a new form. I have taken inspiration from my days in Asia, and paired the baingan bharta with wonton wrappers for a little crunch. However, you can most definitely enjoy it traditionally with rice or flatbread as well. It also tastes delicious on toasted bread.

Ingredients

1 large aubergine

1/2 onion, diced

1 tomato, finely chopped

1 green chili, slit lengthwise

2 cloves of garlic, crushed

1 tsp grated ginger

1/4 tsp cumin seeds

1 tsp cumin powder

1 tbsp coriander powder

1/4 tsp garam masala

5-6 wonton wrappers (store bought)

3-4 tbsp sour cream to serve

3 tbsp light olive oil + more for frying the wrappers

Salt to taste

Fresh chopped coriander to garnish

Method

Fry the wonton wrappers and keep aside.

Cook the aubergine on an open flame, turning it every few seconds, till it collapses, the skin chars, starts to fall off, and you see the juices being released and drip all over your clean stove top. As you keep turning it, it should take 8-10 minutes for all sides to be cooked through. Keep aside in a bowl to cool.

Once cooled, peel off and remove the burnt skin and mash the remaining aubergine with a fork.

Heat oil in a non stick pan. Add cumin seeds and cook for a quick minute. Add ginger, garlic and green chili. Add the chopped onions, a little salt, and cook till they turn translucent. Now add tomatoes, and all the dry spices and mix well.

Cover and cook on medium flame till the tomatoes are cooked through, and oil begins to separate from the sides. Now stir in the mashed aubergine.

Cover and cook for a few minutes for the flavours to merge (remember the aubergine is already cooked so doesn’t need much time). Remove cover, turn flame to high, and saute till any excess liquid is dried off. I always saute a bit extra as I love my dishes as braised possible. Adjust seasoning, and turn off the heat. Garnish with chopped coriander.

When ready to serve, layer the wonton wrappers with a little aubergine, and top with a dollop of sour cream. Forget the cutlery and devour this with your bare hands. I promise it will not disappoint!