Monday, October 14, 2013

Restaurant Review: Empanada Mama


Empanada Mama

763 9th Avenue
(btwn 51st and 52nd Street)
New York City, NY 11019


It was a cold, blustery New York City afternoon when my wife and I exited the USS Intrepid aircraft carrier and braved it several blocks in the freezing rain and snow in search of warm city grub. We ended up taking refuge here, at this little Latin restaurant on the lower East Side. 

Empanada Mama greeted us with a billowing pillow of 90F air as we stepped inside from the cold. The restaurant is long and skinny - maybe just two arm-lengths wide - as are many eateries in this part of town.


We were immediately attended to by a sweet young hostess and seated by the window. This turned out to be a problem we soon realized as each entering or exiting guest left us clutching for our jackets.




We were offered a warm bowl of lightly salted crispy plantain chips and a bowl of creamy guacamole. I've always liked chips made from starches other than the old trusty hackneyed tuber. I've had plantain chips at a seaside bar in the Caribbean and these at Empanada Mama were a close second. The mild Earthy sweetness was well balanced by a liberal smattering of sea salt and the texture was firm and coarse, not soggy or burned. Props to the 3rd shift that probably got stuck making 20 batches of these. My wife sometimes allays my hunger pangs with a bowl of sweet-potato chips, look for the recipe in a subsequent post.

I could have gone for a warm drink but I decided to stay in character and we got ourselves some sangria. Sangria, in my opinion, is the fried chicken of drinks. As far as fried chicken goes I'm sure there are zealots from Louisiana and Texas who would wield shotguns to uphold the sacred honor of their cousin's uncle's recipe, but as far as I am concerned, its fried chicken. And this, was sangria. 




It took a while to get the waiter's attention; can't say the service was warm and friendly but once the bees were stirred they were prompt and courteous. We ordered an assortment of empanadas starting with the spicy chicken, cuban, chicken teriyaki and spinach & cheese (2-3 of each, because we're oinkers like that).

It's almost not worth reviewing the others - the spicy chicken (pictured below) was in the lead from arrival till the last flaky crust was scraped off the plate. The dough was both crisp and flaky on top and moist inside. The chicken was perfectly seasoned, clearly stewed for hours, and well balanced in flavor. I was fearing before the arrival of said empanada that some grinch in the back may have taken it upon himself to sneak peas into the mix by slipping them into the chicken filling as is often done with pot pies. This would have infiltrated the sweet and peppery chicken with sloppy, pasty globules of drab, chalky pea. But no! No peas. (I understand this may seem odd to some of you, but peas are the creation of the devil on a particularly hemorrhoidal day and should be shunned at all costs.)

The other empanadas were good I'm sure, but like everything in life that is second place, were soon forgotten. Arriving hot and steaming, these empanadas were the perfect mid-day snack. I would recommend Empanada Mama.




Sunday, February 3, 2013



Restaurant Review: Pind Balluchi 

www.pindballuchi.com
Shop No.2, 4th Floor, Garuda Mall, Magrath Road, Bangalore - 560025

I’m striving to maintain a low-carb diet of late and what’s better for a low carb diet than a kabob? All protein, tons of flavor and minimal fat, quite possibly the perfect low-carb food there is. So after 4 days of eating the same hotel buffet food at the Royal Orchid, today I headed out to central Bangalore for Pind Balluchi, a Punjabji restaurant boasting its meaty entrees.

Now at this point I feel I must go into another of my pontifications about the variations in sub-continental food, in this case, meat preparations. As a general rule, the further north you go from the bottom  tip of India the ‘meatier’ and more carnivorous the meat dishes get. The gravies become spicier, deeper and richer in flavor; the meat more routinely has bones (as opposed to boneless chunks) and the diet becomes more heavy and rustic. When you reach Afghanistan (which was part of India many hundreds of years ago) the food is today, not much different from how Genghis Khan might have eaten it 1500ys ago, sitting around a campfire, 10 soldiers eating out of a large communal pot under the stars, warming their warworn fingers over the dull red embers under the wide skies in the flat, rolling tempes of central Asia.
 

Even the same dish, say tandoori chicken, prepared by communities further north is more flavorful than tandoori chicken prepared in the south. Tandoori chicken made in south/central India is typically one-dimensional with a limited blend of spices and a thin coating of masala. Mind you, this doesn’t mean its not hot, it’s just not very spicy – we have to make the clear distinction between spicy food, and hot food, when it comes to cuisine of the greater Indian subcontinent. However, Pakistanis and Afghanis make their tandoori chicken with a more complex balance of cumin, chilly powder and lemon juice, deeply marinated and cooked until the flavors run deep and strong. Indian tandoori chicken is milder and somewhat lighter. You might compare that to a stuffed, deep dish Chicago pizza where each slice is 1” thick and overflowing with meat and cheese, to a San Diego pizza with tofu, spinach and no cheese…to each his own.

Punjabi food sits somewhere in between the two extremes, which brings us back to Pind Balluchi, a Punjabi restaurant smack in the southern Indian city of Bangalore, where easily half the population is vegetarian, but who’s counting.

Pind Balluchi is on the 4th floor of a mall, but that’s kind of how most of India is laid out, in malls and developed complexes (throwback to the Irvine Spectrum for my fans from SoCal). The managers at Pind Balluchi clearly know how to put up a smashing décor rivaling the deliberate yet clichéd efforts of XXXX. There’s a man in a traditional Punjabi pathan outfit and a sword, standing guard outside to greet you. As you walk in you’re accosted on one side by a large water wheel turning under the gentle gurgle of stream and some fierce looking, life sized figurines of Pathan fighters to your left. The servers are very attentive and polite. I was seated almost immediately even though the place was packed on a Sunday afternoon in the middle of the mall rush (where all the 24yr old girls go with their boyfriends, and their boyfriend’s posse, by the way).


 

They immediately took my order – I went for the ‘kabob festival’ which they’ve been heavily advertising consisting of a platter of assorted kabobs, chicken, lamb and fish. The food arrived in less than 10min and it came on a steaming hot platter adorned with three sauces. Unfortunately, the flavor fell short of the façade. The malai chicken kabob was soft and cashew’y indeed, but simply too mild for my taste. I couldn’t really enjoy it without one of the sauces coming to the rescue.  The chicken kabob was pretty decent however it seemed only barely cooked through from the inside.  A kabob is to be served firm and moist on the inside, yet slightly dry and seared on the outside. This balance is reached by incorporating the right proportion of fat and starch in the kabob mix and coating, and by cooking it at the right temperatures, for the right times. For instance, in Indian (or sub continental) cooking, there’s no such thing as ‘rare’ or ‘medium rare’, its well done, or its done wrong. This undercooking didn’t stop at the chicken, it carried on to the fish kabobs that were just a little too ‘wet’ on the inside. I asked the head waiter to re-grille them and he was very nice about it, understanding that my feeble American digestive track probably couldn’t keep up with the daily gastrointestinal assault Indians are accustomed to –but when my kabob’s came back, they weren’t noticeably any different (except being warmer on the outside) and the inside was still room temperature. I just decided not to finish the fish and pecked away at the chicken. Fail, Pind.





Not to be defeated, I decided to go with another dish, especially since I hadn’t had any lunch or breakfast today, just a 2hr workout at the hotel gym. The lamb kabob took a few more minutes to arrive but when it did, it sure smelled wonderful. The masala on the outside was thick, and rich and deep, I loved it. The first bite into a chunk of kabob though, was a letdown. Either Pind cuts corners by purchasing low grade lamb meat, or the carver today really wasn’t up on his game, but each piece of meat was at least 75% fat and cartilage, and barely 10-15% actual muscle meat. It was a huge disappointment. The flavor was good, but I ended up trying very hard to get at any morsels of meat. Luckily, my wife had supplied me with a wonderful book on the history of cryptography to keep me distracted so I enjoyed the meal but I’m not sure I’d recommend this place to anyone in the future.  Bottom line, I left hungry and eyed the nearby KFC for some real food.

All in all, I’d give it a C+:  A for décor, A for Service and D for taste and quantity.

 

Saturday, December 22, 2012

Green Chili Chutney



This is hot. You have been warned.


There's a typical Marathi chutney my mom makes that will absolutely enthrall your tastebuds.
It's a very simple yet spicy mixture of chili, garlic and cilantro that goes well with many old fashioned Indian meals. Back before I was born, many decades ago, when we were all farmers, a staple of the village diet was a type of coarse bread called bhakri. It goes by different names in different parts of India but it's essentially the same - an unleavened  coarse, flat roti made from millet and other seasonal grains. In its original form, it's hard, unsalted and what is most graciously described as 'wholesome'. The lack of flavor or dimension in bhakri is why Marathi farmers devised this chutney, which more than compensates for the bhakri. A great and simple lunch I've had numerous times in my childhood consists of a large 10" round bhakri with a dollop of ghee on it, a large tablespoon of this chutney and a glass of water. We'll cover bhakri in a later post but today, we're talking about green chili chutney.

Terminology Break: Chutney

First off, its not chut-knee. Its pronounced czut'-nee.
छटनी 

Second, chutneys can be spicy, sweet, sour even bitter - as long as it's bold. In India, there's a whole subculture for these accompaniments. Think of them as the sweet ketchup or tart pickles, beside your burger - they add a little bit of tang to every fifth bite or so. Actually, if you go back and study Ayurveda, the ancient Indian text on food (among other things), it teaches that each meal should consist of things that make you salivate - literally. Mouths tend to get accustomed to flavors and stop digesting food. Sometimes as we age, our ability or capacity to salivate diminishes leading to stomach problems. That's where pickles and chutneys and achars come in. They remind your mouth to start digesting, and in times of drought or famine they give something to look forward to in a meal that may only consist of water and bhakri. They should be eaten in moderation because they're usually quite high in sodium and the spice isn't all that great for you in large quantities. But as I tell everyone I know, I like my food spicy - It's gotta hurt going, It's gotta hurt going out. That's how I get my money's worth.

Ingredients:

1 lb Green and red Chilies
1 large head fresh Garlic
1 tsp cumin seeds (optional)
1/2" fresh ginger (optional)
1 tbsp Salt
2-3 tbsp Olive oil (or any mild flavored oil)
1-1.5 bunch chopped Cilantro

Time to cook:

Prep time - 5 minutes
Cooking time - 10 minutes


Process:

Slit peppers
Pan roast peppers
Blend everything in a blender until a coarse puree
Eat.

Start with chilies...



I like to rinse the chilies and pat them dry. If you care about pesticides and chemicals, you can use a vinegar and lemon juice wash; I have a post about that coming up soon.

As many Cincinnati residents probably know, Jungle Jim's has a wonderful bargain produce aisle where they stack the AARP vegetables that aren't plump and juicy anymore. Most Indian food stews the heck out of vegetables so even the most blemished of bell peppers or slimy of spinach ends up tasting just fine. (Think about that next time you plop saag paneer on your plate at your local Indian buffet). I picked up a pound of Serrano peppers at the bargain produce aisle for about $0.79. The good thing about aged peppers is that up to a point, ageing deepens and sharpens the spicy flavor. I like to use peppers when they're just beginning to shrink, like the front-most pepper in the picture above. 

In India we don't usually get Mexican Serranos. I like them better than the more slender Thai chills routinely used in south Asian cooking. Thai chilies are certainly hotter, but sometimes that drowns out other flavors. As an aside, the Serrano and the typical Indian or Thai chili are in fact, quite different in flavor, intensity, pepperyness, sweetness and texture. They also cook at different rates and age differently. But if your goal is to blow a small crater in your esophagus, its all good.  If you're interested in chilies check out my soon-to-come Chili post which I'll update every month or so with a new chili-based recipe to bring out that particular chili's unique flavor.


Heat up your pan. Stem and slit each chili down the middle. I rarely use a non-stick pan but I make an exception for this dish. Spray some olive oil on the pan - as little as you can to barely coat the surface. If you like, you can heat up some cumin seeds at this point. I like them but don't add more than 1 tsp. Once the oil is hot, toss in the dry chili peppers. The reason you want to minimize the oil in the pan is because the flavors are soluble in oil. Then when you pour everything into a blender you lose 1/3 of the oil stuck to the pan (that's why I use non stick this time). Roast the chills for about 10 minutes. Be careful not to stand too close, the peppers will squirt out a drop or two of very hot liquid every now and then. Once slightly browned on the outside, turn off the stove and let cool.


While all this is happening, get a WHOLE head of fresh garlic, peel and coarsely chop. Coarsely chop about 1/3 the volume of cilantro as you have chilies; use the stems. If you like, chop up a very small amount of peeled ginger (no more than 1/2"). Once cool, add the roasted chilies to your blender and blend everything together drizzling between 1-3 tablespoons of olive oil and about 1 tablespoon of salt until you get the consistency of chunky toothpaste. Add the salt while blending because its impossible to salt it homogeneously when done. You can store this in an airtight jar in the fridge for at least 6 months (I do).

I wouldn't recommend eating more than a tablespoon of this in one sitting.




Sunday, December 16, 2012

Indian Tea (simple recipe)

I recently spent a month in India. I'm spoiled. I can no longer consume the watery Lipton tea bags that pass for tea any more.

A good cup of tea strikes the perfect balance between the various flavors of the tea leaves and milk and spices and sugar. As the tea becomes more complex, with different spices, it becomes increasingly difficult for the tea chef to keep this balance, thereby separating the tea men, from the tea boys. The tea boys, as anyone who's frequented an Indian office building knows, are superior. As it turns out, most office buildings have a small platoon of boys who walk around at regular intervals and serve tea to the employees in their offices and cubicles...but more on that in another post.

The seasoned tea connoisseur revels in the complexity of a professionally prepared cup of hot, spicy tea, to refine and sharpen his or her senses on a cool North Indian morning or in the foggy valleys of Kerela (picture above). But you can make a good pot of tea at home quite easily, and with some rather simple, common ingredients. We'll start with a basic preparation for a pot of Indian tea, and progress in future posts to more complex flavor combinations.

Terminology Break: Chai

चाय 
च हा 
मसाला चाय 

The first thing to be clear of is that tea in India is different from tea in the UK or Russia or Turkey. Indian tea is as much about the spices and thick frothy milk as it is about the tea leaves. In other parts of the world, like in Europe, tea is often taken unadulterated. In the Middle East in contrast, tea is taken with strong spices but no milk. It's a wonderful drink no matter how it's made.




First, realize that ~20% of tea, is water. Now, it may seem a bit over the top but the type of water you use, actually makes a difference. For those of you, like me, accustomed to drinking bottled water (or even spring water), tell me if I'm wrong - but you probably notice the strong chemical-y and chlorine-y taste of tap water. I can't drink it. That, and its been linked to hair loss in men in some European studies. When many subtle tastes are involved, I like to go with bottled water, or water from a source without chlorine.



Second, the other thing to remember is that the spices and flavors you'll be adding to the tea reach their peak at different temperatures. You don't want to burn or overcook them, and that's surprisingly easy to do. I've made sure to detail this but you need to make sure you pay particular attention to this.




And finally, you're going to spend a solid 15-20min making this tea. Most of that will be spent watching the pot boil, so grab a nice book to read. Don't leave the pot unattended; milk tends to love nothing better than to burn all over your stove. Also, don't cut corners and use that flimsy, watery skim milk, or 1% milk. Go Paula Deen and treat yourself to 2% or go all out and get vitamin-D milk.









Begin with a clean pot. I don't like non-stick pots or pans. Stainless steel cooks reasonably evenly, has no real smell or flavor, and is easy to clean.

Heat up the empty, dry, pot for a minute on low heat.













These are fennel seeds. They have a distinct minty aroma and in many parts of India, they're eaten after a meal. Ayurveda, the ancient Indian medicinal science, claims chewing on fennel seeds after a meal supports digestion and prevents tooth decay. They also taste pretty good, like licorice.

If you're not used to the flavor then I recommend you skip this step. If you want to try something new, put about 1/8 of a teaspoon in your warm pot and dry roast them for about half a minute. (About half the amount shown in the picture to the right.) When the aroma is strong, douse the pot with no more than 1-2 tablespoons of water - this is to prevent the seeds from burning. If they burn, go back to the beginning with a clean pot and start over.






Simmer the seeds while you prepare your ginger and pull your box of tea out of the pantry.


The image to the right is a teaspoon of tea leaves. We don't use tea bags unless we're stranded in a gulag or have entirely given up on life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

There's several brands of tea you can buy at your local Indian store. The first time you try black tea, you won't notice much of a difference but after about 3-4 pots of tea, you'll begin to see that some are stronger than others. Some have stronger flavors, some have stronger aromas, some are more 'crisp' and fresh, while others can be better described as bold and blunt. Like wine, there is no particular wrong or right, you get to pick. I've put links up to a few of my favorite brands here.


Add about 1.5 even teaspoons of tea leaves for every cup of tea. Add about 1/4 cup of water to your pot and add the 1.5tsp of tea leaves. Let come to a boil, about 4-5 minutes. Never add tea grounds/leaves to a dry pot (like you did the fennel) or it will immediately destroy the tea grounds.


This is where those tea grounds come from. Above is a pictures of yours truly in a tea plantation in Munnar Kerala, in south western India. Tea leaves grow in waist high bushes on miles and miles of lush green rolling hill sides. Every day, local farmers pluck the tea leaves and roast them. It's only after roasting that you get the distinct tea aroma. If you walked in those bushes above, you wouldn't know you were surrounded by tea at all from the smell of it!

When I went to Kerala, we ran into a group of local women on their lunch break. They pick tea leaves all day and deliver them to the tea roasters. This group of elderly women were happily sitting along the side of the road, with their tiffins stacked high, donning their bright white Kerala saris. It still amazes me how their saris never got dirty. What amazes me more is just how proper this one's English was! You'd never expect an old tea picker lady in rural India, to have a full on conversation with you in English.



There are as many ways to make tea in India as there are states in the union (28 states and 7 union territories). Common to most are two ingredients - milk and ginger. You can also add cinnamon, cloves and even peppercorn. All these are a bit more hardy and don't burn as quickly so they're added after the tea grounds but before the ginger.

For every mug of tea I use about a teaspoon of thinly sliced ginger. Here in the picture to the left is a fresh  thumb of ginger. Do yourself a favor, use fresh ginger. The ginger powder in your pantry is about as useful as the cardbox box it's in. (Well, the cardboard has fiber.)

Peel the ginger and thinly slice it. I used to grate the ginger but I soon realized that this made it more prone to burning. Also, grated ginger tends to lose its flavor much quicker than sliced ginger. My theory is that the increased surface area of grated ginger forces it to overcook. Also, you lose a lot of the ginger liquid in the grater or chopping block if you try to mince or grate it. Just chop it in thin slices or long strips.





Once the tea water is boiling, add your ginger and let it boil. Be careful to not leave the ginger in for more than a minute because it will burn. If you burn the ginger, go back...





































Wait for your ginger tea water to come to a boil ~1min. (Picture above.)

In the meantime, pour some milk in your cup. Like I said above, a true, thick, satisfying tea demands some fat content, so go with 2% or whole milk. Measure out about 80-90% of the volume of milk as you want tea (the rest of the water will evaporate). So if you're making 1 cup of tea, use about 0.8 cups of whole milk or about 0.9 cups of 2% milk. Warm up this milk slightly in the microwave; I put it in for about 30 seconds if its straight out of the fridge. If you pour cold milk into the boiling tea water, it forces a blanching reaction and stops the cooking process. The tea flavor dissipates and the milk fats get lodged inside the fiberous ginger root. Then, as you try to get the whole mixture up to a boil, you risk inadvertently undercooking the milk,  overcooking the tea and burning the ginger. Pour in warm milk and save yourself the headache.




Add the warm milk to the ginger tea water. The boiling will stop. In about a minute, the boil will resume but you'll see a thin layer dark brown of milk solids begin to form on the top. Some traditionalists like to peel this layer off the boiling tea and eat it. I just mix it back in.  Let the tea BOIL. Full on BOIL. Once it gets to almost overflow out of the pot, turn down the heat. Then let it come to a full rolling boil again a second, and a third time. You'll lose a bit of volume in this to evaporation, but that's just going to make your tea that much stronger. Turn down the heat to medium and let the tea simmer for about 5 solid minutes. Once 5 minutes is over, let it cool until the boiling stops. Then strain.

Here's one final trick that helps elevate the tea flavor: When you're straining, make sure to use a spoon and squeeze out the last few drops of concentrated tea syrup from the grounds and ginger at the bottom of the pot. These last few spoons make a noticeable difference! Also, pour your tea into a cup from higher than you usually would (safely of course) encouraging bubbles and the mixture of air. This aeration process actually makes a big difference for coffee, and the benefit to tea is noticeable as well. In some parts of India, roadside chaiwallas will repeatedly pour coffee from one glass into another 3, 4, 5 times in front of you in exhibition of their talent to pour 4 foot long streams of liquid, but also, to enhance the flavor and cool the boiling liquid down to a more palatable temperature.

Enjoy!


Thursday, April 26, 2012

Indian Guy's Review: South Indian Food


Indian Guy's Review: South Indian Food


Ammas Kitchen
7633 Reading Rd
Cincinnati, OH 45237
(513) 821-2021
http://www.ammaskitchen.us/


A Rock......


Good South Indian food is a staple of mine. After a long night of imbibing and buffonary, a heaping plate of steaming rava idlis, kootu, sambar and rassam do wonders for azeotrope driven hangovers this side of Bangalore. Whoever said one needs meat to feel full hasn't stuffed their faced with upma laden with ghee and cashews or a rava masala dosa and bowl after bowl of tamrind rich sambar and watery sinus draining rassam, only to have to unbutton various layers of clothing and lean back in their chair to fit in a mug of thick filter coffee.

No such satiation however is to be found at Amma's Kitchen where South Indian food is served with classic South Indian efficiency.

I arrived a little after noon, in the midst of the Saturday lunch time rush, and was promptly seated at a nearby booth by a kind old man who seemed to implicitly ask me why I wasn't yet married and he knows a nice girl in Columbus...but I digress. He seemed very nice.



A masala dosa is included with the buffet I am informed; splendid. It arrives rather quickly (a charming surprise because many Indian restaurants will tend to make you wait for such things). I grab some of each type of the red, light green (coconut/cilantro) and dark green (mint) chutneys and clumsily poke around for a fully integrated bite of dosa and potato, only to miss on my first few attempts. Peeling open the dosa I find only a few teaspoons of very lightly seasoned potato in the center. The dosa itself I realize, is clinging to the plastic plate for its dear life to the extent that I eventually have to intervene with a fork and scrape it off, like paint off an old wall.

The problem is, where ELSE am I going to get a decent dosa in any 45xxx zip code?

Earlier, I had left my idly in the sambar to let the two become friendly. A few moments later though, they were at a standoff, each braving its own territory. To the sambar-educated, this is a sign of an overly dense idli, unwilling to let another's spice soak. Sadly though, I'd rather have a passe sambar at a card-carrying South Indian restaurant over what passes for imli soaked toor dal at some of the north Indian restaurants in the area.

The bhel...not sure I even really want to go there.
Unfortunately, I did. Nuff said.

I generally like to get some fluffy upma into my system early on in the meal, but was not able to find any...but there was a tray of gobi manchurian. Now, I know we have a border issue with China in the Indian owned Aksai Chin region, but unless reports of central india's loss to the Red's have been greatly exaggerated, gobi manchurian is not south Indian fare. Id rather have my upma, thank you. But then again, it was tasty, and where else in a 20mi radius of the I-75/275 is one to find a bottomless tray of gobi manchurian?

To close the event, I ordered their madras coffee was a pleasant surprise. Warm and thick and frothy, just how it ought to be, with mild sweetness and a definite bitterness lurking in just the right proportions.

The service was consistently friendly and quick and they do seem to try hard at doing a good job.

.....A Hard Place.

And there you have it, my review of Amma's, lying somewhere between a Rock and a Hard Place. You see, as the only credible excuse for a South Indian buffet in the greater Cincinnati area my unfettered opinion would only serve to diminish its revenue stream and, as the limit of T tends to infinity, deprive me of this unindulgent indulgence. However, should I laud it with the niceties of people who have never had a proper dosa in their lives, I would only serve to promote what passed for an amalgamation of Tamilian/Kannada/Madrasi fare.

If there were a better South Indian buffet here, Id gladly pay twice the $10 charged at Amma's.
So, will I be back? Likely.
But only when I have a hangover.

The real culprit here is not Amma's - it is Capitalism, or the lack thereof. Perhaps the Reds and their commie ways have ventured further South than earlier feared.

Someone, please open up another south Indian restaurant here!! I'll even invest!

Saturday, April 7, 2012

West Chester Farmer's Market

http://www.westchestersfarmersmarket.com/

In an odd little twist of fate, Ohio, which is rich in fertile, farmland, and Ohioans, who descend from generations of farmers, seem barely linked today. I've found that the common daily diet in Ohio consists mostly of red meat and some corn or potato based side. A plethora of processed foods is also a staple. So you can imagine my glee when a co-worker pointed me to the weekly West Chester Farmer's Market, across from Dinglehouse, my favorite watering hole.

I came a little late today but there were still a few stands open displaying their colorful vegetables, organic meats, poultry, soaps, jams and assorted treats. On principle, I generally don't buy on impulse. Maybe it was the warm afternoon breeze that lulled me fiscal conservatism to slumber but I picked up a small bag of organic dog treats. (Hope you like em' Bhim!) There were plenty of organic vegetables and meats to choose from but before I plunk down my dozen quid, I'll check out this place everyone raves about called "Jungle Jims" and stop by the Whole Foods on the other side of town. I was a bit disappointed at the high prices though.

I have always assumed that the exorbitant produce prices in Ohio at places like Meijer and Kroger are due to the lack of locally grown vegetables (read: fuel to truck over vegetables from the San Joaquin valley) coupled with the generally low demand for fresh produce in the American midwest diet. If that were true, the locally grown produce at this market should be cheaper - some claims to be grown only a mile or two away. Someone needs to explain to me the economics of Ohio produce; the numbers just don't add up.

Compared to the lazy weekend farmer's markets I used to frequent in Los Angeles, this one was downright skeletal, but you have to judge a fish by its pond, and any organic, local, natural food in the mid-west is a step in the right direction. For things like this, demand leads to supply, not the other way around. Count me in the 'demand' column folks! Now, if I can only find someone who will sell me kelp and wheat grass, I'll be raving.

Here's a link to the West Chester Farmer's Market and if you have any tips for an Ohio newbee looking for affordable, fresh produce (or better yet, a restaurant that'll cook it up for me), shoot me a line; I might even want to invest in it.

http://www.westchestersfarmersmarket.com/

Chew thoroughly,
IndianGuy who Cooks

Sunday, April 1, 2012

Rajma



I often hear people complain about how vegetarian food doesn't have quite the 'uumph' that lamb or chicken (or beef) pack into a main course.  I've never believed this to be true.  One of the hallmarks of Indian cuisine is its ability to take a simple vegetable or grain and dress it up in a myriad different personalities and temperaments.  Try for instance, one of my favorites, the mild mannered chickepea - sometimes seen gracing your plate as a side salad overpowered by the likes of the red onion, lemon and chaat masala, sometimes seen as batter for fried broccoli, sometimes seen as the base for a spicy and sour kadi soup and sometimes seen as a feisty bowl of chole (see other installments of this blog for those).  To believe that vegetables cannot satiate like meats, is like sequestering grapes to the domain of the salad leaving unbirthed the world of wine.

Similarly, I challenge my carnivore friends to take on a solid bowl of Rajma alongside any lamb curry or chicken kabob in its inherent 'meatiness' and ability to make you lean back in your chair after a meal and wonder if it was you who consumed the rajma, or the rajma that won a democratic majority among your tastebuds.

Here I present several recipes for Rajma; some simple for the time-conscious and some a little more adventurous.

Simple Rajma

Ingredients:

-
IngredientQuantityPrep.
Onion1 medium (~4" diameter)Chopped ~1cm chunks; use white/yellow, not red onion
Tomato1 medium (~3" diameter)Chopped ~1cm chunks
Green chili1Coarsely chopped
Ginger~1"Chopped ~1cm chunks or grated
Garlic4 average sized clovesChopped ~1cm chunks
Red kidney beans1 canIt's a can - open it. Don't dump out the water, you'll need that.
Cilantro3-4 stemsCoarsely chopped
Turmeric powder1/4 tsp.
Red chili powder1/2 tsp.-
Cumin seeds1 tsp.-
Coriander powder1 tsp.-
Garam Masala1 tsp.-
Oil of choice1 tbsp.-

1. Chop up vegetables.

First, cut up your vegetables.  For those of you new to this, see the pics below.  It doesn't really matter how small or large you cut the tomatoes but do try to make the onions small.  This is because as you cook it, you want the onions to break down and form a gravy - most gravy's in Indian cooking are really mostly onion by volume.  If it makes you cry, stick the onion in the freezer for 5min before you cut it.  If your tomato is mushy or overly ripe, you can cool that down too.  Here's a question for the physicists, why does a tomato get more plump as you cool it for 5min?



2. Make your tadka/phodni.

As you'll find out real quick, most Indian dishes regardless of north Indian, south Indian, meat, fish or vegetable, start with a tadka (see my tadka posting for more detail on this than you'll ever want to know).  Put about 3/4 of your oil in a hot pot, I prefer to avoid non-stick but its up to you.  Add cumin seeds, watch them sputter (but not from too close if you want to keep both eyes intact).  As soon as theyre all popping, toss in the garlic, ginger and green onion.


Tip: To avoid messing up, be careful to not burn the garlic, it likes to do that.  You're not using much oil so as soon as it begins to want to turn even the slightest bit tan/brown, put in the onions.  You're better off undercooking it than overcooking it.  You can add the rest of your oil if things begin to get too dry.

3. Once the onions are cooked, add tomatoes and spices stir thoroughly and often.  Don't add the salt just yet.  How will you know when the onions are cooked?  Well, sniff it.  Raw onion has a pungent flavor and smell that gradually disappears as it is cooked.  You want to avoid raw onion flavor in your rajma so cook it on medium heat for a good long time, stiring to make sure it doesn't stick or burn.  This part usually takes the longest time, usually 10min.  How will you know if its over cooked?  Sniff it.  If you cook white/yellow onions for too long, they usually begin to give off a sweet smell.  For rajma, its better overcooked than undercooked.

4. Add red kidney beans, add all the water it was cooked in or all the water in the can if you use canned kidney beans.  Stir often, simmer on low heat.  Add salt and stir until you have the taste you like.

5. Done.  Garnish with cilantro.  I like the scent warm cilantro adds as background so personally, I add 1/2 the cilantro leaves, stir and then add the 2nd half cilantro leaves as garnish.  Some people like to also add finely chopped onions as garnish, my mom does that.  Food is what you want it to be.

Rajma With Power Tools

This is mostly the same as the Simple Rajma except...
Change #1 - Chop about 1 bunch of cilantro leaves, in addition to those for garnish.  Cilantro is usually sold in bunches and most bunches are about the same size, don't lose too much sleep over it, its a leaf.
Change #2 - In a blender or food processor, blend to a gravy the: onions, tomato, ginger, chili, garlic and cilantro.
Change #3 - At the beginning, add this gravy to the hot pot right after you add the oil.  Cook this gravy for a good 15min stirring off and on until the raw onion smell is gone.  Then, add the spices and proceed as above.

You'll find the 2nd recipe to have a much more warm and thick gravy and a more pleasing texture, but a lot of people may not want the extra step of using a blender and washing it afterward.