Undhiyu

This is perhaps "the" Gujarati dish. A delicious medley of spring vegetables slow-cooked to perfection.

On a personal note, the CC never liked this as a kid, but age even if it doesn't bring wisdom, does indeed bring more things to eat. Hurrah!

The dish quite literally means "upside down". A whole slew of delicious vegetables, spices, and prepared foods were tossed into a clay pot, the whole ensemble was sealed; the pot was placed upside down in a pit, and a fire was built on top of it. The embers surrounded the entire pot, and the dish was slow-cooked.

Needless to say, this is quite literally impossible in the modern kitchen (although if anyone is willing to do the work, the CC will fly to anywhere within the 48 states with the ingredients.)

The dish crucially relies upon "green garlic" (a.k.a. "spring garlic",) and no! substitutions may not be made.

Most of the ingredients listed below are reasonably exotic in the US (although one can easily get them in Indian grocery markets in spring and summer.) Thankfully, someone has had the wisdom to provide them in frozen form which while not quite ideal, is not bad.

The whole recipe is going to take the better part of half a day to cook (if you want to do it right, and the CC knows you do!)

The uncommitted need not apply.

There are many parts to this recipe so the CC is going to present the recipe sectionally. Commentary is added in italics for your delectation.

Please don't forget the final goal. Dump the entire melange into a pot, and slow cook.

Recipe

Methi muthiya

1 bunch fenugreek leaves finely chopped(methi)
1/4 cup whole wheat flour (the Indian fine-ground kind not the supermarket one.)
3/4 cup chickpea flour (besan)
1 tbsp green chilli-ginger paste
1/2 tsp turmeric powder
juice of 1 lime
salt to taste

Mix all the above, and knead into a soft dough. Add some water if needed.

Divide the mixture into 20-25 portions, and shape each like miniature American footballs.

It's a joy to watch experienced cooks shape these balls. They work so fast that it's hard to believe!

These need to be fried. Pan-fried is fine with a thin layer of oil as long as you keep rotating them. Drain on a paper towel, and keep aside.

The Spices

1/2-3/4 cup fresh green garlic (chopped)
4 tbsp dhanajeeru (roasted cumin-coriander seeds powdered)
2-3 tbsp green chilli-ginger paste
3/4 cup cilantro (finely chopped)
1/4 cup fresh coconut grated
2 tsp chilli powder
1 tbsp carom seeds (ajwain)
1 tbsp lime juice
salt to taste

You can just use the food processor for this. And, "frozen grated coconut" is available in Indian grocery stores. This is the ultimate modern convenience since freezing doesn't affect the texture.

The Vegetables

2 cups surti papdi
2 cups purple yam (kand), diced into cubes
2 cups yellow yam (suran), diced into cubes
2 cups "new" potatoes
1 cup sweet potatoes, diced into cubes
4-5 small eggplants (the tiny, round Indian ones)
3 plaintains

1/4 tbsp asafoetida
4-5 tbsp green chilli-ginger paste

Here are some of the ingredients:

green garlic

kand

surati papdi

The eggplants and the plaintains need to be cut in a special way since they are going to be stuffed with the spices above.

Some pictures are worth a thousand words:



See the slits? That's where the spices from section 2 are going to get stuffed into.

Heat 8 tbsp oil in a pan. Add the asafoetida, followed by the green chilli-ginger paste and fry for a bit. Add the eggplants, and the plaintains, and fry till the eggplant is just slightly tender.

Add all the stuff to the pot, and seal the pot. Traditionally, this is done using dough but foil will do in a pinch.

Reduce the heat to the lowest setting, and cook for roughly 40-50 minutes. Don't open it!

(Alternately, you could just put the whole thing in the oven at 400F for about an hour.)

Don't prejudge the chef!

Frequently, the CC is asked what kind of food he enjoys cooking, and the answer is all kinds. For those, you have visited the CC, you're aware that the shelves are groaning with cook books, and technique manuals.

In fact, the CC would argue that technique (or the science of food) is far more useful than just reading recipes because one can extract the key idea rather than the specifics of a culinary tradition (which does not mean that the latter is not important -- it is supremely so, as well!)

There was a recent article in the New York Times that sums this up: A Yankee Chef With a Mexican Flavor.

ON a train from Dublin to Shannon recently, I struck up a conversation with an elderly man sitting across from me.

“What do you do?” he asked, recognizing my American accent.

“I’m a chef.”

“What kind of food.”

“Mexican,” I replied.

“Mexican?”

He chewed on that for a few seconds. A Yankee making Mexican food? How could I pretend to know about Mexican food?

Sure, Americans traveling abroad expect to be treated like pariahs these days. But I get more than my fair share because I’m the ultimate outsider: a Yankee who prepares Mexican food. And who also happens to have a Swedish surname.

Mexicans are particularly suspicious. I was recently asked to judge a competition for young chefs in Mexico City, the Joven Chef Mexicano. Oddly, they hadn’t scheduled me for any of the sessions, so I just wandered around the competition, trying to make conversation with the other chefs.

But no one would talk to me. They just looked at me as if to say, “What’s this Yankee doing here?” I felt like an interloper.

Then Guillermo González Beristain, one of the most reputable chefs in Mexico, greeted me. Guillermo had also attended my alma mater, the Culinary Institute of America, and within a few minutes, we were having an animated conversation. Suddenly, everyone else warmed up to me, too. I felt as if I was surrounded by friends.

Why do I specialize in Mexican cuisine? Because it’s some of the most diverse food on the planet. It’s complex, it’s often a challenge to prepare, and it’s delicious. Being an outcast is a small price to pay for that kind of culinary calling.

I’m even willing to sustain some friendly fire. At the annual Hispanic Children and Families fund-raiser, which benefits underprivileged Hispanic children, I set up a table for our restaurant. There’s an elite group of Latin American chefs that also participate in the event. I’m always cast as the outsider by them.

Last year, I made cochinita pibil, a traditional pork dish from Yucatán, with plantains, pickled onions, habanero chiles and tortillas. The chefs would come by the table, help themselves to the samples, whisper something to each other and leave. But at least they were eating.

Mexicans are perplexed that anyone would want to develop an expertise in cooking their food. South of the border, the chefs usually specialize in Spanish or French food, although lately, Mexican cuisine has been getting a lot more respect.

On a recent visit to the Vendimia Wine Festival in Ensenada, I met several Mexicans who didn’t get it. Unfortunately, they were border guards in Tijuana. I was trying to bring supplies across the border to cook a trio of ceviche — marinated raw fish in lime — and duck carnitas with mole coloradito, for the festival’s gala dinner. When the guards saw the food, they turned me back.

“Please,” I begged them, “It’s for an important dinner.”

But the idea of an American preparing Mexican food was so odd that they figured we had to be up to no good. Seeing the impasse, I tried a last-ditch effort. I dropped a name.

“The governor of Baja California will be there,” I said.

The guards conferred with one another. An American cooking Mexican food — for the governor? It sounded so preposterous, it had to be true.

“Señor,” said the guard. “You may go.”

Cilantro Chutney

Simple, straightforward with modern technology, and tasty (unless you're one of those wierdo's to whom cilantro tastes soapy.)

Nothing like fresh bread lathered with this stuff.

Ingredients

3 bunches cilantro tops washed clean
1/2 cup peanuts
1/4 cup lime juice
6 birds-eye chillies, chopped into rounds (substitute with serranos)
salt to taste

Recipe

Dump in a blender, and grind to a thick paste by adding water only if necessary.

Salsa : Corn with chipotles en adobo

The CC has forgotten where he came across this recipe but it is so simple that it should appeal to both your senses, and your love of having good food without too much bother.

No matter what quantity the CC makes of this one, it always disappears! Always!

The CC once doubled up thinking he could get some for later but no! it was gone by the end of the evening.

Ingredients

8 cups corn (frozen is fine, just thaw it.)
1/4 cup sun-dried tomatoes
1 can chipotles en adobo

Recipe

Heat the oven to 350F. Spread the corn in a flat tray, and let it dry out for 30 minutes or so. It needs to be fairly dry but watch carefully since the stuff burns easily.

Reconstitue the sun-dried tomatoes in hot water. Dice them into very fine pieces.

Toss the corn, the sun-dried tomatoes, some of the water from the tomatoes, and diced chipotles en adobo with some of the adobo sauce to taste.

Bitter Gourds

This is the proverbial line-in-the-sand.

On one side, are the I-like-Indian-food-if-its-not-too-spicy types, on the other, are the true connoisseurs of regional Indian cuisine.

The karela is the dividing line. It separates the women from the girls.

A couple of tricks to make it slightly less bitter. If you cut it into fine rounds, soak it in heavily salted water for at least an hour (longer is better.) This is just simple osmosis at play.

If you plan to stuff it, slit it lengthwise, remove the seeds, and sprinkle with coarse salt (a.k.a. "kosher salt".) Don't worry about the salt, you can always wash it away later. More is good.

Right before you prepare it, you need to squeeze the fruit to further remove the bitter juices.

Fried Karela with Cashews and Raisins

Ingredients

5 small karelas, cut into rounds, debittered (as above)
1/3 cup peas (frozen is fine.)
1/3 cup cashews (broken)
1/3 cup raisins
1/2 tsp asafoetida
2 tsp cumin seeds
2 tsp coriander seeds
1/2 tsp chilli powder
1/4 tsp turmeric (optional)
4-5 tbsp brown sugar
1 tsp poppy seeds
salt to taste

Recipe

Roast the cumin and coriander seeds in a skillet for a bit. Don't allow them to burn. Put them in the coffee grinder, and make a fine powder. You will see this referred to frequently as dhanajeeru (dhana = coriander seeds, jeeru = cumin seeds.)

Heat 2 tbsp oil in a skillet. Add the bitter melon, and fry for a while. Add the sugar and let the sugar caramelize over the bitter melon. (You may need more sugar.) Take the stuff out of the pan, and dry pat with a paper towel.

Heat 1 tbsp oil in a skillet. Add the asafoetida, followed by the dhanajeeru, the chilli powder, and the cashews. Fry for a bit, add in all the ingredients, and let it cook till the peas are cooked.

Mea Culpa

It has been a few months but the CC has been extremely busy so he is just getting around to editing and posting various half-written articles over the last few weeks or so.

Coming up soon in technicolor: the CC's Thanksgiving Dinner, and other assorted high-jinks.

He Invented What?

College students everywhere must be in mourning!

The inventor of "Ramen noodles", Momofuku Ando has passed on.