blueberry (cranberry) scones

A week ago, a dear friend from my study abroad semester emailed me asking if I could post the recipe for these blueberry scones I had made and gifted her last summer in New York. So I set out the ingredients this morning, substituting dried cranberries for the blueberries because (correct me if I’m wrong?) I don’t think you get blueberries in Bombay and strawberry season is over.

Uday, our live-in domestic help (he’s 26) peered over my shoulder. He’s a really bright kid and always curious about what I’m making and he likes to stand behind me as I take pictures so he can observe how I handle the camera. Despite my aversion to the cook (who was at my mom-in-law’s this morning) and the idea having staff members at all, I really don’t mind Uday. He laughs at my Hindi (for a while he spoke to me in Gujarati, thinking I would understand it better, which I did but I then I got confused because I didn’t know he knew Gujarati…) and is not terribly annoying, like the cook.

Anyway, today, as I was starting, Uday asked, in Hindi, “What are you making?”
I said, “Scones!” and pointed to the picture in my cookbook.
“Ah, biscuit,” he nodded.
“Ha, biscuit,” I replied. These scones, which are especially lovely when eaten warm, do, in fact taste like biscuits. I think it’s because they barely have any sugar- just two tbsp. I can’t remember what I did last summer, but today I followed the recipe and found that I could barely taste the sugar; the sweetest pieces were those with the crunchy top crumb, on which I sprinkled brown sugar. If you like your scones almost biscuit-like, then follow the recipe exactly. But if you wouldn’t mind them sweeter, then double the sugar to 4 Tbsp. Otherwise, this recipe is absolutely perfect. My dough was neither too sticky nor too dry, and the ready scones were fragrantly soft. -Another thing, though: I would use fresh berries, preferably blueberries. My cranberries taste just fine but fresh berries are juicy and dried berries are, well, shriveled.

After Uday and I peeled the scones from the pan, I told him to put the plate of them on the dining room table. We both stood admiring  them for a few minutes. Then he asked, “You’re not going to take a picture?” “Ha, ha” (yes, yes) I replied, and went to get my camera.

Blueberry (Cranberry) Scones
adapted from Breakfast, Lunch, Tea

Makes 12-15 scones

3 1/3 cup all purpose flour, plus extra for dusting
1 handful wholewheat flour or corn flour (optional, I used wholewheat)
2 verp heaped Tbsp. baking powder
2 (or 4 if you want your scones to be somewhat sweet) heaped Tbsp. sugar
1 tsp. salt
grated zest of 1 lemon or 1 orange
110 g (or scant 1/2 cup) unsalted butter, cut into pieces, plus extra for greasing
2 handful blueberries (or dried cranberries but I recommend fresh berries)
2 eggs
about 1 1/4 cup whole, 2% or soy milk
1 Tbsp. light brown sugar

Preheat oven to 200 degrees C or 400 degrees F and grease baking tray with butter.

Sift the plain flour into a bowl and add the whole wheat/corn meal if using.

Mix in the baking powder, sugar and salt and then add the butter and rub in with your fingers until the mixture resembles fresh breadcrumbs.

Mix in lemon/orange zest and then add tue blueberries and mix well.

Beat one of the eggs in a measuring cup and then add enough milk till you have 1 1/4 cups.

Make a well in the middle of the flour (still in the bowl) and pour the liquid inside. Using a fork, work the dry ingredients into the wet; then finish mixing by hand but be careful not to overwork the dough- just lightly bring everything together. The dough should be firm but softish and not at all sticky. If it is too dry, add a little more milk and if it is too wet, add some flour.

On a lightly floured surface, pat (I patted) or roll the dough into a solid shape, about 1 1/2 inches thick. Using a 2 inch cutter (I used my 1/2 cup for the cookie cutter, just turning it upside down and pressing it into the dough), cut the dough into rounds and place them on the greased baking tray so they almost tough.

Beat the remaining egg and use to glaze the tops of the scones.

Sprinkle with brown sugar and bake for 15-20 minutes until lightly golden.

The scones might stick together so take them gently apart when they have cooled a little.

Serve warm with cream (I ate mine plain).

hi, from here

Hello, it’s been a while. What’s been happening here? The rains started and my mood has improved considerably. I know everyone in Massachusetts and New York is sick of their “monsoon.” I guess I would be too if I still lived there; I remember how I hated going down to the subway in the rain (or snow), where all that wetness would quickly steam into humidity. My mom told me none of the flowers she planted are growing because at the most they’ve received a few hours of sunlight. But after ten months of facing Bombay’s obnoxiously enthusiastic sun, the recent spurt of washed gray skies and steady showers have made me so happy. I feel calmer now when I look outside, and contrary to my feelings of being trapped indoors that came when it rained in America, here I feel like it’s finally temperate enough to step out. Hrishikesh and I have been walking when it’s not raining and though it usually starts midway through our walk, after the first five minutes,  we forget about our clammy clothes and instead enjoy the cold water as we climb up a hill. (Climbing down is another matter; I’m terrified of slipping and take baby steps while imprinting H.’s arm with my fingers.)

We’ve been traveling a bit: last weekend we were in Pune, where I spent two hours at the Landmark Bookstore stocking up on all the titles I can never find at Crossword in Bombay. We ate at a mediocre restaurant, Sen5es (Senses?), that’s supposed to be one of the nicest places in Pune. We skipped our usual Pizzeria meal since we had made both pizza and pasta from scratch the week before. The weekend before that we were in Alibaug, where for once, it was cooler than Bombay. We read and watched episodes of 30 Rock and Arrested Development on my laptop. One of the caretakers makes excellent food and one night we had his egg curry, which was a few boiled eggs partially cut and cooked in a red coconut soup. I think we went to Mahabaleshwar the weekend before that.

In the past few weeks, we’ve made: spinach with sesame sauce, mango sushi, roasted marinated eggplant sushi, amazing Tandoori cauliflower, mango salsa, Mexican beans, cold Chinese noodles, pumpkin ravioli, oven-dried tomato ravioli, mushroom ragout, lasagna with fresh spinach pasta, yellow daal, a tofu dressing (you can do amazing things with a mixer), homemade peanut butter (the ones in Rajat had hydrogenated oil and we had three pounds of roasted peanuts sitting in our cupboard), lemon, vanilla and cocoa cupcakes and paninis. Obviously, I’ve been lazy about blogging.

In my next post, I’ll tell you about the scones.

lentil salad with beets in a minty cumin lime vinaigrette

During these hot days, I just want to eat salad (and ice cream, always). While one can usually find wilted iceberg lettuce from the convenient street bhaji-sellers, obtaining leaves that taste like something, such as rocket (arugula), involves planning a trip to Crawford Market, a giant food warehouse of sorts, or going to one of the new grocery stores like Reliance Fresh or Nature’s Basket. However, in Bombay, I usually only go to grocery stores for specialty items like mustard or dried mushrooms because produce is much fresher from the street stalls and Crawford market. Anyway, with the impending monsoon, eating uncooked greens is not so advisable, so to assuage my appetite I turned to…lentils.

I love the lentil salads my parents used to make, with the olive-colored puy lentils that look like little gemstones, but I have no idea where to find them here. So I turned to something we always have in our Mumbai home- Massoor Dal, or red dal, which, by the way, turns yellow after it cooks. Instead of boiling the dal into a hot soup, I cooked the lentils in the pressure cooker until they were just done. While they cooled, I prepared the minty cumin and lime dressing. I added the cubed beets I had boiled earlier to bulk up the lentils, coated them both in the dressing and there I had it- my lively Bombay version of lentil salad, refreshing, red and earthy.

Lentil Salad with Beets and Minty Lime-Cumin Vinaigrette
adapted from Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone

1 cup red lentils, boiled/pressure-cooked until just done
2 beets, boiled, chopped

for the dressing:
1 garlic clove, smashed
zest of 2 lemons
2-3 Tbsp. lemon juice
2 tbsp. chopped scallion
1 Tbsp. mint
1 green chile, finely chopped
1/2 tsp. cumin
1/2 tsp. ground coriander seeds
1/4 tsp. dry mustard
2 Tbsp. olive oil
salt

Put the cooked lentils and boiled, chopped beets in a medium bowl. Combine all the ingredients for the vinaigrette and let stand for 15 minutes. Pour it on top of the lentils and beets and mix well. Enjoy!

dillightfully creamy yogurt with roasted eggplant (eggplant tzatziki)

At my cooking class yesterday, I learned to make another version of tzatziki, the Greek yogurt salad. I decided to make it for dinner last night because it is easy and now, halfway through June with no sign of rain, I start sweating everytime I step into my kitchen. This salad is almost the same as that beet tzatziki I posted about a while back, but unlike beet, whose flavor tends to overwhelm, roasted eggplant is subtle and buttery. The eggplant is cubed, tossed in olive oil, and broiled for 7-10 minutes, until it’s soft and brown. Mix the yogurt with smashed garlic, lemon, dill, and the tiniest bit of olive oil; then add the eggplant and some salt. The thick white yogurt with bits of black eggplant looks classically pretty and the lemon and dill lend freshness to the lavish spoonfuls. It’s a quick and cooling antidote to these muggy evenings.

Dillightfully Creamy Yogurt with Roasted Eggplant, or, Eggplant Tzatziki
adapted from Asha Khatau

1 eggplant, cubed
2 cups strained yogurt (hang yogurt in a cheesecloth an hour or two before you plan on making this. Don’t throw out the water- it’s full of protein. Drink it or add it into a soup.)
2 cloves crushed garlic
1-1.5 tsp. lemon juice
1 tsp. chopped dill
1/2 teaspoon olive oil, plus more for coating the eggplant
salt

1. Coat the cubed eggplant in olive oil and broil in your oven for 7-10 minutes, until soft and brown
2. Add the garlic, lemon juice, dill and olive oil to the strained yogurt and mix
3. Add eggplant to yogurt mixture and sprinkle salt to taste. Chill until you’re ready to eat!

the cream of the compromise

Hrishikesh has a penchant for dairy, especially when it’s decadent; it seems he’s always longing for cream, pungent cheeses, and thick, strained yogurts. He once told me a story of how he and Petru, his old roommate, used to challenge each other to find the best of what they believed to be the most delicious: yogurt with the highest fat content. I adore ice cream, yes, but my husband’s  opulent palate is unmatchable. So, it should be no surprise that at least once a week, he wants to combine cream with Indian spices in Punjabi food, and specifically, paneer makhani, black dal and biryani. Yet, for a girl whose Punjabi picks are baingan bhartha and channa masala, his constant desire for rich food can be hard to digest. Mostly, I end up ignoring his suggestions and tempting him with something else, but once in a while, I have to give in. After all, that’s the compromise of coupledom, right?

So we made paneer makhani the other night. It was delicious and I learned that, as long as you have a blender, compromise can be a cinch. Basically, you make an onion paste and a tomato paste, both blended with spices and other ingredients. Then you fry the pastes, add water, cream, paneer (or even a vegetable, like mushrooms!) and let the flavors simmer and meld together. The result of your understanding and good nature will be a velvety dish in which the sweetness of ground raw cashews perfectly balances the tart tomatoes and the heat of ginger. In the end, of course, everything comes together with that old favorite, thick cream.

Via a google search, I found this recipe at Passionate About Life ‘n Spice, a wonderful blog full of Indian vegetarian recipes. We changed it around a bit, but this recipe, in all its easy glory, is very much Sia’s. Thank you!

Paneer Makhani / Paneer Butter Masala
adapted from www.monsoonspice.com

For the Onion Paste:

2 medium onions, chopped
1/2 tsp. cumin seeds
1/2 tsp. cinnamon powder
3 cloves garlic
seeds of 3 green cardomom pods
1 bay leaf
1/2 inch ginger, pounded
For the Tomato Paste:

3 large tomatoes, chopped
18 cashews
1 green chile
1 tsp. garam masala
1 tsp. tandoori masala
1/2 tsp. amchur / dried mango powder
1/2 tsp. turmeric
1/2-1 tsp. Kashmiri chile powder

2-3 cups paneer (in 1/2 inch pieces)
1/2 tsp. cumin seeds
2 tbsp. fresh cream
1 tsp. sugar
1 tsp. dried methi (dried fenugreek leaves…adds a tiny hint of bitterness)
1 tbsp. ghee/oil
2-3 tbsp. chopped cilantro
salt

1. Grind ingredients for onion paste; remove in a bowl. Grind ingredients for tomato paste.

2. Heat oil in saucepan. Add cumin seeds and let brown. Mix in onion paste and cook until the paste turns a light brown in color, about 6-8 minutes.

3. Add methi and sugar, stir, and cook for another minute.

4. Add tomato paste and stir well, cooking for another 5 minutes. If paste starts sticking to pan, add a little bit of water and keep cooking.

5. Increase the heat and add 1 cup water and salt to taste. Mix well and cover, cooking for another 5 minutes. After 5 minutes, if you find the gravy too thick, add some more water.

6. Add paneer cubes, cream and cilantro. Simmer for 5 more minutes. Serve with naan, parathas or rice, with a plate of sliced onion, tomato, and lemon on the side

East Restaurant Review

Eastern Promises

A good friend told us about East, the Pan Asian restaurant tucked away in a busy corner near Gowalia Tank in South Bombay. As we know, there are limited opportunities to try Malaysian, Vietnamese and Sichuan-style Chinese food in Bombay. We’d heard that East’s chef, Nachiket Shetye, had studied at the C.I.A. and worked at Nobu, and that he aimed to make more than the ubiquitous Indo-Chinese and Thai fare for Bombayites craving Asian food.

We sipped on two excellent cocktails, a spicy bloody mary and a lychee martini, while admiring East’s subdued bamboo decor and ordered their signature Roti Canai,  which came with a dipping bowl of zesty, flowery Malaysian curry. This was no ordinary dinner roti but a layered, flaky roti, yielding and stretchy, the croissant of all rotis I’ve ever eaten. We then enjoyed making inexpert tacos with the smoky, plum sauce moo-shoo vegetables in their soft rice paper wrappers and dipping them into the fiery chili sauce on the table. The spice-loaded Burmese curry Khow Seuy had a gleeful assortment of toppings; we made little mountains of scallions, peanuts, fried garlic and onion on our bowls and slurped till we were stuffed.

Not all the food is so engaging, however. The steamed Shanghai wontons were a glazed, limp mess, the wontons so soft they collapsed into the mash of flavorless cabbage filling spilling out. The Sichuan Broccoli was tolerable when mixed with a curry, but alone, it was simply broccoli doused in an overload of chili sauce and red chili flakes. The Malaysian noodles were boring and the Penang curry, though loaded with coconut milk and vegetables, was flat. Last night for dinner we ordered Black Bean Vegetables,  pan-fried Japanese Gyoza dumplings, Crispy Eggplant in Hot Bean Sauce, and Chili-Garlic noodles. All of them, unfortunately, were resoundingly awful.

East has been around for a couple years now, though when we went, on a Sunday evening, it was more or less empty. We’ve heard of similar empty sightings from our friends but despite the lengthy list of mishits, we plan to go again, to try the Vietnamese Eggplant Fritters and the Indonesian Curry. East certainly needs to fix many dishes, but at least they’re attempting to introduce Bombayites to more than just the standards. Now, if only they would add pho to their menu.

Roti Canai: Rs. 160; Shanghai Wontons: Rs. 160; Moo Shoo Veg: Rs. 240; Khow Suey: Rs. 250
76 Nidhi, August Kranti Road, off Kemps Corner. 022-2381 1010.

delItalia Restaurant Review

We drove past Del Italia’s plant-filled enclosed porch three times on the evening we were attempting to find Aurus. Lushly lit and packed with diners, it looked pretty promising. “Why don’t we just go there?” grumbled Hrishikesh. We definitely should have. After the disappointment of Aurus, eating at Del Italia was a refreshing reminder that Bombay’s restaurants can do justice to Italian food.

I journeyed to Juhu many months later to meet a friend from America for lunch at Del Italia. The restaurant was empty when I arrived at noon, and two hours later, when we left, just one other table had been occupied. Unfortunately, the front porch, with its hanging potted plants, bay windows, and colorful throw cushions, was being used to complete some minor renovations work, so we sat inside, which was designed to resemble a Mediterranean home.

While waiting for my friend to arrive, I ordered a competent cappuccino and studied the menu. Small plates; soups; salads; bruschettas; pizzas; pastas; other vegetarian mains- though the categories were comprehensive, the handful of options under each seemed selective. Lured by the toppings, we started with the spinach, rucola and artichoke bruschetta, a mess of extremely garlicky greens on tough, questionably stale bread doused with olive oil.

Not so great, but our woodfired pizza, topped with herby tomato sauce, real mozerella, and a generous scattering of cremini mushrooms, was definitely the best I’ve eaten in Bombay. The care taken in choosing quality ingredients was apparent in each surprisingly delicious slice.

One appetizer and a pizza is all we needed but I’m glad we also ordered the rotolo, two rounds of a soft pasta sheet filled with minced mushrooms and onions, swimming in a pureed caramelized onion sauce and garnished with a sprig of woodsy rosemary, leaves of which I kept pressing into my pizza. This more unconventional dish on Del Italia’s menu gave me a taste of the restaurant’s potential scope.

delItalia, Juhu Tara Road, next to Mocha, Juhu, Mumbai. 26184040.

a cake for the spring

Bombay is high on heat and humidity. When I was melting in October, people just muttered cryptically. October was an oven, but it was the infamous “May in Bombay” that would be the test of my survival in this bright, blistering city. The heat is brash and inescapably agitating. I’m waiting for June’s promise of ominous skies and cold, sudden rains. Oh, the things I look forward to now.

I bide my time and divert my mind by making and eating cake.

Ostensibly, I made this sort of plain looking lemon-yogurt cake with figs for my mom-in-law, for Mother’s Day. She really liked it (whew), but when I ate my first piece, I literally felt transported -to a balmy place where my only thoughts were about the mild perfume of ground almonds, the dusty pink of fresh figs and the fragile subtleties of spring, all that is the opposite of a brazen Bombay summer. So I ate another piece, and then another, marveling at the cake’s dewy lacing of lemon and frankly, it’s a good thing I made this cake for my mom-in-law and not for myself because that means there’s still some remaining at her house right now, where I’m going for lunch in an hour. There, I’ll have another soft slice of the season that Mumbai’s missing: the spring.

It’s a simple path to happiness for me. Dorie Greenspan, whose recipe I adapted, says that this French yogurt cake is “absolutely foolproof and shamelessly easy.” I tweaked her recipe by folding in the fresh figs (you can make it with any other fruit or no fruit at all), upping the amount of lemon rind, and substituting brown sugar for half of the white sugar. And at the very end, I squeezed the juice of one lemon all over the top of the baked cake and let it slowly seep through the moist, freckled layers to give it a very faint, tart tinge.

Don’t be alarmed if it looks squat; this is a low, short cake, something you would eat around tea time, or for breakfast or lunch. Or even for dessert, with some whipped cream, fresh fruit, or jam. But I like to eat this spring cake plain, to savor the scents of almond, lemon and fig. Dorie says the cake is best the day after it’s made, which is when we ate it.

A Cake for the Spring, or Lemon Yogurt Cake with Fresh Figs
adapted from Dorie Greenspan

1 cup all purpose flour
1/2 cup ground almonds
2 tsp. baking powder
pinch of salt
1/2 cup white sugar
1/2 cup brown sugar (Indian refined sugar has bigger crystals than American refined sugar. When I’m baking, I usually stick my sugar in a mixer/grinder so the crystals become finer and resemble American sugar. I have no idea if this makes a difference to anything but I do it. Don’t grind it too much or you’ll make confectioner’s (or powdered) sugar.)
grated zest of 5 Mumbai lemons (or 1 American lemon)
1/2 cup plain yogurt
3 large eggs
1/4 tsp. vanilla extract
1/2 cup flavorless oil, such as canola or safflower (I used sunflower because that’s what I had)
4-5 fresh figs, sliced in 1/4 inch rounds, then halved
juice from one Mumbai lemon

Center a rack in the oven and preheat it to 350 degrees F (or 175 degrees C). Generously butter the bottoms and sides of a 9 x 2 inch round cake pan.

Whisk together the flour, ground almonds, baking powder and salt.

With your fingertips, mix together the sugars and zest in a medium bowl until the sugar is moist and aromatic. Add the yogurt, eggs and vanilla and whisk vigorously until the mixture is very well blended. Add the dry ingredients in 3 steps, whisking after each addition. Use a rubber spatula to wipe down the edges of the bowl and fold in the oil. You’ll have a thick, smooth batter with a slight sheen.

Pour 3/4 of the batter into your prepared cake pan, using the spatula to spread it all over. Place as many fig halves as will fit all over the batter, and then pour the remaining batter over the figs trying to hide all the pieces. Bake for 40-50 minutes, or until the top is golden brown and a knife inserted in the center comes out clean. Transfer the pan to the counter and let it cool for five minutes, then take it out of the pan and let it cool some more. Squeeze the juice from one lemon all over the cake. Let cool to room temperature and eat!