Mixed Vegetable Paratha

October 14, 2011.

A few weeks ago, I made <a href=" http://mommydiaries.posterous.com/broccoli-paratha“>broccoli paratha for our Friday night dinner. Now, R would have been on a semi-fast on any given Friday, and did not appreciate the fact that I was ruining his paratha for him by adding broccoli into it. He thought it was gross betrayal. His thoughts probably ran worse, but I don't know, and I pretended not to care.

Fast forward to today. I have some leftover peas and carrots and corn and other vegetables stir-fried with various spices from yesterday. One of those days again, that M isn't interested in eating. Neither am I, really. So, I turned to my tried and tested paratha. I swear that recipes must have been invented by harried mothers whose kids were refusing to eat the usual fare. So, here I am, deciding to post about anything strange that I make (you may already know about it, but it is strange to me, it is an invention, perhaps not a new one, but an invention nonetheless).

Out comes the food processor again, chop goes the stir fry, knead goes the dough. Sizzle goes the oil. Gobble go the "mixed vegetable parathas".

And hey, I am getting better at rolling out circles too! There must be something to this proverb.

"Practice makes Perfect."

"Necessity is the mother of invention".

Broccoli Paratha

It is Friday (September 16, 2011). I went to lunch with friends and their beautiful daughters. We called ourselves the "Terrors of Montreal", what with our 3 giant strollers. One of my friends even suggested that area high schools should invite us to their schools to show girls how difficult babies can be. To convince them that abstinence is the best policy.

Lost a shawl. Forgot to pick up a tea bag for the tea that came with my lunch. Got told, "It's Friday!", in a tone that meant that a person is allowed to be scatterbrained on a Friday afternoon. Except, this could have happened to me on any day, these days.

Anyway, I started writing this post yesterday, but I think my phone rang. My mother was calling and we skyped with her, to show her M's new fancy. Size 7 shoes. Her feet are a dainty size 4.

Eating a broccoli paratha may have made her think herself quite big.

Here's how that came about. R doesn't eat rice on Fridays at all. Neither do I normally, but we can talk about it later. Usually for M's dinner, I give her rice, although she may get different grains during the day. But on this day, I was in no mood to cook 2 separate kinds of meals. I wanted to eat something "good" (defined as, I-am-feeling-lazy-and-clueless-but want-something-hot-and-tasty). I opened the frig and ransacked the crisper, while I tried to keep the door open. People fear about preventing their children from opening doors. She's at a stage when she shuts any open door she encounters. Anyway, I found a head of broccoli from our Sunday trip to the market. I wondered now. Can I make a paratha out of it? After all, cauliflower is used for gobi parathas! So, I googled the word and came up with many hits. That's all I needed to know, before setting about making some. R was not too happy that I was spending so much time to make something so stupid (read containing broccoli).

Ingredients

Stuffing:

One bunch of broccoli, florets broken out and grated/shreddded; I used a hand cranked food processor

Cumin powder to taste, 1 tsp

Coriander powder to taste, 1 tsp

Salt a pinch or 2

Thyme powder to taste, 0.5 tsp

Asafoetida a sprinkle

Red chilli powder, 1 tsp

Ginger 1 inch piece, grated

Shell:

Whole wheat flour for dough 3 cups

Whole wheat flour for dusting 0.5 cup

Water

Salt

Oil

Oil for shallow frying

Method:

Add salt to the grated broccoli and set aside.

Add water into the wheat flour slowly, folding the flour into the dough until the dough doesn't stick to the hands.

Let it sit covered for at least a half hour.

Tip from my paratha-land friend: put the dough into the frig. if you're in a hurry. Leave it there until it is needed. Knead it again and use.

Place cast iron pan on the stove and begin heating it.

Meanwhile:

Squeeze the water out of the broccoli (this water can be reserved to use in a soup or a stew or another recipe that calls for water).

Mix the remaining ingredients of the stuffing in with the broccoli.

Remove dough from frig., re-knead for a minute or so, apply a few drops of oil in your hand and make several balls of dough.

Flatten a ball between the palms, make a cup out of it in your cupped palm, and place a bit of stuffing in it.

Close it by pulling the edges closed, making sure not to tear the dough (I have torn it, and it makes the rolling out trickier, but it has worked for me, so don't panic).

Flatten the ball again and coat it with flour on all sides, roll it out into a circle (or, if you aren't a shape fascist – another name for someone who knows what they're doing and can actually get circles that are of even thickness; given by those of us who don't always get it right; ok, by me). It is more important to get it to a uniform thickness than for it to be a circle, for the taste. Aesthetics? That's another story. I roll it out as thin as I can.

Then, shallow fry it on the now hot pan, with oil (or ghee, which will give you a more authentic taste, and of course, not a little too much calories. As if the ghee weren't enough, serving it with butter and pickle? Yummmm).

Serve hot with plain yogurt or a raita (finely chopped vegetables, usually cucumber, onion, tomato, or a combination thereof, along with herbs and spices, in a ladle-whipped yogurt base).

This seems like a lot but isn't really too much, as I found out when I started making something that'll include a vegetable into her "tapiti".

Lord of Dals (a recipe for mango or tomatillo or green apple dal)

In the Land of Mango, in the Fires of the Red Chilli, the Tart Dal secretly rendered many palates awash.

In my eagerness for an imitation of the original, I accepted the sphere of tartness, the tomatillo, in the Land of Stars and Stripes. Without question. As it drew me inexorably into the shadow where The One Dal seemed forever out of my reach. Forever did I sense it, forever did I search for it. I had become one of those. A Dalfaith.

The search continues in Maple Earth. Where even the tomatillo is nowhere to be seen.

Today…

All hope lost, I am now making a variety of different dals for my little and my big ones. And introducing a variety of fruits to them. Yes, them. He only eats fruits that are easy to eat. Cut fruits being one of them. I had reached for a green spherical object in a moment of distraction, hoping to mix it with oats. There are few foods that M refuses to even try (quantity she'll eat is an entirely different issue though), and one of those is oat porridge. There goes that hope. I could have given it to her raw, but somehow, it got lost in the frigid depths of my freezer. For two and a half thousand minutes (no one's counting), it lay there, lost to all memory. 

Until this afternoon, when I went a-fishing for something interesting to cook dal with, and my fingers brushed against it. Something smooth. Something round. Something cold to the touch. The green apple. I set about making a green apple dal out of it. A very poor imitation of the original, granted, but it tasted wonderful to me. My little ankle-biter is on a food strike and won't eat anything but cookies, sigh! She's on a milk and cookies diet. Have to try offering a different fruit to her and see how that goes. Not too many hopes though, as she refused to touch one of her favorite fruits, the strawberry.

I don't measure and thus, the amounts are an approximation. Feel free to play around.

Ingredients

Raw mango (or tomatillos or green apple) cubed   1 cup

Toor dal, cleaned (Pigeon peas)                                       1/3 cup

Turmeric

Seasoning

Mustard seeds 1 tsp

Urad dal (Split black gram lentil) 2 tsp

Red chillies 2

Asafoetida a small pinch/a sprinkle

Curry leaves 1 sprig (I didn't have any, so I didn't use it, but dried ones will do in a pinch)

Jaggery to taste

Salt to taste

Method:

Pressure cook toor dal with 2-3 times water. Set aside.

Heat a cast iron skillet (I use cast iron but you can use whatever you use at home).

Once hot, add the ingredients for seasoning and toss until the mustard seeds pop and crackle.

Curry leaves go in at this stage, if using. Toss until crisp, which won't take long at all.

Add the cubed fruit in, cook until just soft.

Add dal, stir.

Add salt and jaggery to taste.

Voila!

PS: I had a post referring to this very green apple dal. This recipe has been slumbering in my drafts folder almost complete. I'll strive to bring the rest of the draft bytes into daylight soon.

On the lines of learning…

Each day, as M learns about the world, we learn about parenting. She is constantly making discoveries with her voice, with objects, with her feet.

And each day, she teaches us how best to parent her. What she responds to best. What she would like for a new toy.

I remember asking my mother what we would do with the baby once we brought her home and set her on her bed. She told me that the baby will guide my actions when she arrives and show me what she needs. What it takes to be a parent.

There is a certain amount of leeway. She is forgiving to many lapses in routine, unyielding to any in other aspects.

She tells us what she's ready for, what we can show her, what she can do.

As I teach her about the world, she's teaching me how to parent her. To search my mind for inconsistencies between word and action. To try my utmost to be the ideal that I want my daughter to be.

To teach a toddler/child series part 1 – A stainless steel cup

M is too young to learn these concepts or to even imitate me, but I am going to begin listing ways to teach a child science using everyday objects, everyday actions. Notes to self.

M picked up a stainless steel cup and handed it to me. I looked into it, I blew into it, I spoke into it.

Reflection.

Pressure.

Condensation.

Fog.

Evaporation.

Echo.

Perhaps even the percentage of water vapour in inhalation vs exhalation. But not until she's much older, I suppose!

FUN.

Anne of Green Gables – Caffeinated?

Don't get me wrong, she is my most favorite character in print, the most romantic heroine, sweet and guileless. Perhaps a little unreal? But who cares, she is so charmingly mistake-prone, so engagingly humorous.

On days that I consume caffeine (in the form of a vanilla latte slush, the only way I like my coffee), I am inexplicably happy. I dream and dream big, I laugh. I am more prone to quick tears than normal.  I am friendly too. I am also wonder of wonders, nice! If only in my own definition of nice. And a good mother too!! Now, isn't that what Anne (with an e mind you) is? She embodies all that is good and sweet.

Conclusion: Anne has caffeine flowing through her veins day in and day out. She probably synthesizes it in that red, excuse me, auburn hair of hers.

PS: Needless to say, I drank "icepresso" today. It's been over 6 hours. Go ahead. Call me nice if only for today :-).

"Y'a un peu d'amour dans chaque tasse" – Second Cup (ou Deuxième Tasse?)

Leeks Pachadi or Thogayal

The dog days of summer are gone, bringing in gusts of cold wind. But the unexpected warmth had us meeting friends at the market, where I ran into my chiropractor who worked magic on my "mommy thumb". I found fresh, fresh leeks and brought those home with a vague idea of…. nothing. They were just my fancy new purchase of the day. Humour me. If you think they're as mundane as onions (careful there! There are many chefs who think the world of onions), I don't. To me, they are bundles of mystery. To be peeled apart, layer by layer. With no idea how to use them. I have, in the past, been guilty of letting leeks ripen(?) and rot in the cold box. Not today.

That was Sunday, and I just found some time to finish it up. I have been busy on the professional front.

I set them out on the counter for inspiration. Looked up how to clean it and which part to use in it.

And thought of onion pachadi or thogayal. Something similar? Except, I don't know how to make it. Had to wing it, with my dear wingie Mother Hen coming over for dinner (giddit, people from the long gone college days, giddit?). "Why not! Worth a try!", said the chick's voice, and here goes.

I cut each leek just where the light green merges with the dark green, and discarded the dark green. Halved it lengthwise, then chopped it. I ran water over the chopped leeks while manually separating the layers, loosening dirt. There were 3 leeks in all. Which made for quite a bit of chopped leeks. I did mention that they were very fresh, right! So, 2 of those had much more white and light than dark green.

Ingredients

Leeks 3; prepared as above

For seasoning

Mustard seeds 2 tsp

Split urad dal (black gram) 4 tsp

Methi seeds (fenugreek) 1/2 tsp

Red chilli to taste (I added only 1, but should have added at least 3)

Hing (asafoetida) a sprinkle

Jeera (cumin) 1 tsp

Oil 1 Tbsp (I ran out of oil, so I used freshly made-at-home ghee, which I am sure didn't do the taste any harm) 😉

To add while grinding

Salt to taste

Haldi (turmeric) 1 tsp

Tamarind 1 table tennis ball-sized; but it would really depend on the tamarind you have. I have had vastly different results with different kinds of it. I use the Thai tamarind fruit jelly-like packets now. If you add too much, increasing spice (green chillies) as well as sugar/gur (jaggery) is a good fix.

Green chillies to taste; again, depends on spice tolerance, and hotness of the chilli

Gur (jaggery) 1-2 tsp, powdered; I only had brown sugar, so I used a combination of brown sugar and unsulphured molasses. Lame, I know, but it works! I made sweet pongal like that once, and it never tasted more authentic!!! R will eat anything but has very fixed ideas about how foods *should* taste, and he corroborates my claim of authenticity.

Method

Heat cast iron (or other) skillet and add oil to it.

Add seasoning ingredients to it one by one, tradition says, but I don't have the patience, and add them all as soon as I lay my hands on them. When urad dal turns red and mustard seeds splutter, add the leeks and saute till the pieces turn translucent.

Remove from heat, and let it cool.

Add all grinding ingredients in a grinder/food processor, along with the leeks, and taste check for salt, spice, sweet, and sour, and yes, even bitter, and voila!

Ideal world: I would first let the mustard pop and the urad dal turn red, remove from flame, and saute the leeks in the leftover oil. Then, combine everything once cooling down happens, and buzz the machine. I didn't have the time, so I did what I did.

Ideal world: I would pop some more mustard seeds and some washed curry leaves in some oil and garnish. Lucky, I had to do this step for drumstick sambar (that tasted surprisingly exactly as it should, btw), because I used part of the sambar seasoning for the garnish. Otherwise, I simply skip this step.

Enjoy with hot rice or dosa or idli, or even an addition to lentil soup like I did today because…you guessed it…the toddler was playing around my feet, not letting me do much…alright, alright, I admit it, I was too lazy to cut onions, but wanted a bit of an onion-y flavour to it. There!

Toddler Food Fight; Lunch “Cookies”

Lunch was a simple affair today. Green apple dal, Peas-shredded carrots and brussels sprouts stir fried with ginger. Rice. Homemade whole milk yogurt for whoever wanted it.

Except, M refused to have anything to do with it. (It tasted just fine, if I say so myself.) Just as she refused to eat oats with strawberries and cinnamon for breakfast. I doused it with maple syrup in desperation. That worked. For about 2 spoons and then the strike resumed. She insisted on bread. So, French toast it was. Thankfully, she ate about 1 slice of bread and 1 medium egg's worth of it. But refused fruit.

Ok, happens, I thought, and set about making lunch while she was napping on a sleeping bag in the living room. She woke up and was very happy to see the spread in front of her. She likes to see 2-3 different things on her plate, so that she can eat a spoon of this, a spoon of that, and repeat. All was well for about 4 spoons and strike resumed. I let her get out of the high chair, but she was clearly hungry and refusing food. I was torn. Should I bring out everything available? Or should I stick to my guns and let her eat what was for lunch as she was supposed to? She wanted some milk after which, she was playing happily. I fell into a light slumber while she sat next to me, reading her books. I woke up with an inspiration.

The "Cookies".

I forgot her Healthy Times Toddler Cookies in the stroller yesterday, and she was excited at the find when she went ransacking. So, I let her have a couple while I got down to work.

I mixed the dal, the vegetables, and the rice together. 

I sprinkled some wheat and rice flours to hold the mixture together. 

Added a vegetable stock cube for added punch (I made one batch without, and it tasted fine).

And a teeny bit of milk. 

Greased a tray and baked at 400 F, for about 20-25 minutes. 

Voila! Crisp on the outside, tender on the inside. Really tender. It is best to leave it to cool for a bit before removing it, or the "cookies" will fall apart.

I would have loved to take pictures of the process, but I was focusing on getting some food into her. And it worked. She knew they weren't her cookies, but she enjoyed holding it in her hand and eating. She still didn't eat too well, but much better than she was doing before. I know now, that it wasn't the taste, because she didn't want much of melon d'eau jaune either. She is having one of those days.

Reminiscing. 2009

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow. Aaaaaand let there be LIGHT!

Getting closer to Quebéc? You can “Quittes” the highway using a “Sortie”; or you can exit the highway using an exit; do it the French rue or do it the English way, but all ways lead to the Plattsburgh International Airport. Or so the board claims.

I’ve always wanted to capture a picture of trees against the sky. Never quite got the right shot, but I like the look of these.

Bored in Canadian customs line.

There is no right turn on red. Only on the island of Montréal. On Laval or South Shore, you can take that right turn! Just don’t hit anyone or anything!

Our hotel was full of people there for the “fights”…

Funny text seen on church.

Question marks in the sky. “Why, God, Why??!!”, asks Joey.

ABC Monster

Several months ago, I found stickers of the English alphabet in Dollarama. I bought a pack and my friend B and I pasted them on the living room wall, arranged based on how the song sounds.

 

A      C

    B      D

 

and so on… (the look was B’s idea; she’s my creative advisor).

 

Just to entertain my little M, I would point the letters out and sing the song to her. Before the big 1 arrived, she knew where “ABCD” was. She would even say it sometimes, with not too much clarity. Now that we’re back after months of travel, she somehow seemed to remember that that stuff on the wall is a song. Perhaps because she continued thinking that any writing on the wall is “ABC…”. She was never informed otherwise.

 

Now, she demands, “ABC”, about 3-4 times a day, if not more. It is not enough if I sing the song. I have to go to the wall and point each letter out while singing it. Did I mention that she pulled out C as soon as I stuck it, and it never managed to stay on for too long? Well, yesterday, she also removed XYZ.

 

So now, the song goes like this (note that this is the Indian version of the song).

 

A B (where’s) C D E F G

H I J K LMNOP; LMNOPQ RST

U V W (where’re) X Y Z

(Where’re) X Y Z?

Sugar on your bread

If you don’t like it, better go to bed.

Next day morning, come to me,

I shall teach you ABC.

 

With much gesturing and drama. Thus, is born the ABC monster.