India Like This Only

 India Like This Only will be taking a break from posting for the month of November through till the end of the year. We will resume posting content very soon. Thank you for following us.

The year 1996 was the last time I celebrated Diwali in India. Wow, that's 25 years ago! In May of 1997, I left India for good and made Toronto my new home. Diwali forever became a memory for me. Sure, there were small pockets of Indian immigrants who got together to organize gatherings in the community. These were fun, but nothing compared to the way entire cities would erupt into celebration in India. The country is transformed during this week. Being the festival of lights, complete city blocks after city blocks are covered in string lights. People illuminate their homes with little diyas, these tiny clay vessels candles scattered around. The characteristic sting of burning gunpowder makes your eyes water as rambunctious kids of all ages frolic around getting into all sorts of mischief. With each exploding firecracker, you are pushed one step closer to complete hearing loss. You are dazzled by the fountains of bright sparkles bursting into the air on every street corner. Little c...

“Garam Masala is so mainstream now, it’s quite ubiquitous.” This came up in conversation at a recent mixer I attended. I truly dislike the term ubiquitous. People who use this word strike me as bougie, pompous and arrogant, tossing fancy four syllable words around to appear cultured and smart. However, I had to agree with that statement, irrespective of how annoyed I was. Garam Masala is found pretty much everywhere in American grocery stores, sold in plastic jars in powdered form. It's tragic to see the mystique, magic and romance gone from this truly magical spice blend. One of my most treasured possessions is a beautiful hand carved four compartment wooden box. The artisan who crafted this was obviously someone who took great pride in his work. Each compartment contains one of the four spices of the garam masala family; Cinnamon, Cardamom, Cloves and Black pepper. These are the four pillars of Garam Masala, as I like to call them. They basic fact that these four spices get their...

I have to drive quite a bit across towns to get to Monterey Market. This is a local family owned grocery store in Berkeley that I absolutely love. There are many Safeways, Sprouts and Whole Foods between where I live in East Oakland and this market. I continue to drive right past all of these, in spite of the 6 dollar gas prices. It’s the price you pay for access to the freshest seasonal, locally grown produce anyone can lay their hands on in the area. The produce on offer at this farmstand-like establishment comes primarily from farms within a 50 mile radius. Let me tell you, I have never been more glad to be Californian, than when I go to this market. During last week’s visit, I could hardly believe my eyes. Right there, between the spinach leaves, the collards and the Rainbow chard, I spotted Fenugreek leaves. Now that’s something not seen very often, out here in California at least. The last time I had Aloo Methi made from fresh Fenugreek leaves, it was during those long cold wi...

Having grown up in Mumbai, I never really knew what a severely cold winter felt like. I barely remember ever needing a sweater more than once or twice a year. Winter would come, winter would go, we would hardly know it. Then I graduated from Hotel Management school, and accepted an offer from ITC Hotels to join their Management Trainee program. This meant I had to relocate to Delhi. It was the middle of November 1993 was this Mumbai kid got to know what a real winter feels like. Never before did I ever have to face the choice between going outside or remaining indoors, huddled under blankets. Let me tell you, there were many such indoor days that year. You never can forget your first winter away from home. I began to understand the meaning of bleak and dreary very quickly. During those times, Rajma Masala came to my rescue. Rajma Masala on rice brings about a certain kind of hearty comfort that very few other meals can. Rajma is the Hindi word for Kidney Bean, and Rajma Masala is a r...

Why do we generally think sweet when it comes to Oatmeal? I suppose all fingers point to the way we have been conditioned. Every hotel’s standard buffet line up has the soup tureen with Oatmeal positioned near the berries, granola and brown sugar. It’s how this is done all across the country. Many American chef friends have thought it weird to go a savory direction when it comes to Oatmeal. I say that needs to change. We need to be coming up with more fun ways to get Oatmeal, that magic whole grain into our bodies. Being Indian, I love my savory breakfasts. Happy Memories are made of Masala upma with chutney, Poha mixed with potatoes, carrots, beans and crunchy peanuts. These hearty breakfasts that kept me satiated all the way to lunchtime when I was a kid. So connecting the dots, I asked myself, what if we took the Upma approach towards Oatmeal? That’s how this recipe came together. It wasn't that much of a stretch. I followed the exact same process I would use for Tomato Upma, ...

Anyone who grew up in an Indian household knows about the magic of Haldi Doodh. Simply translated, it’s Turmeric Milk. As a child, whenever I felt the sniffles coming on, when the forehead started to feel a little bit warm, my mother would make me a tall glass of this yellow elixir. It was creamy, slightly sweet with little spicy kick and it warmed me from the inside out from the very first sip itself. The recipe is ridiculously simple. Warmed up milk mixed with turmeric, honey and a pinch of ginger powder and a light sprinkling black pepper. So simple yet so effective. It remains my go to beverage when I feel a little low energy spell happening. It’s a home made remedy that's an instant and magical cure. I have now come to realize, what was once grandma’s remedy is now the next big scientific breakthrough. Scientists now claim that Curcumin, the active ingredient in Turmeric, is a natural anti-inflammatory compound and is a potent antioxidant. It can increase the antioxidant capac...

Have you ever heard the saying, “A little knowledge is a dangerous thing”? I recently understood the full meaning of that statement during my most recent cooking contract. My job is to design Indian food offerings for Employee dining programs, and my clients are mostly large tech firms in Silicon Valley. Now that the Pandemic is mostly behind us, Employee dining programs are slowly coming back on line. And wherever there is a requirement for Indian food, that’s when I get a call. It isn’t an easy time for food service companies right now. When the Pandemic hit, most companies had to shut down, and furlough their staff. These trained cooks found work elsewhere and are not so keen on coming back to the hard life of Kitchen work. Bay Area Food service companies have to depend on Contract laborers through apps like Qwick, Tend and Instawork. You can say contract laborers are like a box of chocolates. You never know which ones you are going to get. Some are great. Some, not so much. And so...

“The customer is not happy with the chai.” A slightly disheartened Break room attendant told me as she walked away from the Conference room where she was setting up the lunch. The client hosting the meeting had organized an Indian lunch and obviously, Chai was on the menu. This young lady has a great work ethic, always trying to find solutions for her guest’s problems. But this time she was stumped. “I have no idea what to do, Chef. Can you help me?” This was a tough one. I was there as the Indian Chef Consultant, implementing the new Indian station menu for the company’s employee dining program. All questions related to Indian offerings there end up across my desk. Being Indian, I understand how much this person must be yearning for his afternoon chai fix. Here’s what he’s probably thinking. I just gorged on Naan, Basmati Rice and Butter Chicken for lunch, and am this close to slipping into a food coma. A good chai is what I need to keep unintended loud snores from happening during ...

Ask any Indian what their top five most favorite comfort foods are, and I am pretty sure Khichdi makes most lists. What is it about that rich, onctuous creamy consistency that just warms the insides, and brightens up the foggiest rainiest days? When I feel a little under the weather, with  runny nose, sniffles, itchy throat, fever (you know… all the F*%ING COVID symptoms) my craving for this comfort dish pretty much quadruples. Give me a Khichdi made from rice and moong daal, with a generous splotch of Mango Achaar on the side, and an obscenely gigantic dollop of Amul Butter, running rivulets all over my bowl, and my day instantly gets a whole lot better. Needless to say, lot’s of Khichdi was made in my kitchen over the last couple years. Lot's more down days than good ones, wouldn't you agree? Khichdi has been around India for longer than anyone can remember. Khichdi is hugely popular in the north of India. In several cultures, Khichdi is considered to be the first solid food...

Cooks love what they do because, let’s face it. Cooking is sexy! It’s a dance. It’s choreography. It's a theater. It’s why we like to bang things around with our feet and our hips, it’s why we slam the pans on the counter extra hard, and it’s why we smack meat on a scorching hot grill, causing the flames to leap up angrily. We say it’s because that’s the only way to get the coveted deep grill marks, but honestly, it’s the theatrics. Some latent hidden primal instinct is awoken that appeals to the thrill seeker that lies otherwise dormant within us. When it comes to Indian cooking, very few techniques scream theater as much as a Tadka. It’s mesmerizing to observe a seasoned cook go about the process. First, a round bottomed pan with a sturdy handle is placed on the flame, and filled with oil or ghee. All the spices and aromatics are carefully lined up in advance, because scrambling for ingredients is for rookies. The palm of the hand is hovered dangerously close over the shimmerin...

There are some things in a kitchen you just have to accept are going to happen. The milk will always boil in the split second you turn your eyes away. Honey will always take its own sweet time to exit the bottle no matter how hard you smack its bottom. And the bananas eventually will ripen too much. If left unattended and uneaten, they will turn soft and start to develop blotchy black discolorations. When that happens, you make Banana Sabudana Kheer. Two childhood happy memories influenced this dish. As a child, mom would feed me mashed up overripe bananas in a bowl, mixed with a spoonful of sugar and a little milk for my after school treat. The other comfort food memory for me was Sabudana Kheer; the sweetened milk dessert made from Tapioca pearls, also known as Sago. Mom used to call it “Shortcut Kheer” because it was so quick and easy to execute. There was something delightfully playful about chomping on the gelatinous round pearl-like granules while slurping down thick sweetened mi...

The first time I tasted ajwain was in Macchi Amritsari. I must have been about 17 at the time and a young student at the Institute of Hotel Management in Dadar Mumbai. I’d pick up work as a banquet server, working for hotels and catering companies that cater giant fancy events for fancy rich people. Harpal Singh was this giant of a Sardarji, who ran some of the best Punjabi food in Mumbai. My job for the evening was to be the invisible guy in a black bow tie who floats around with a tray of appetizers. “Amritsari Macchi, ma’am, sir” was what would tell the sahib folk, all engrossed in conversation. Of course, once in the back, I’d sneak a taste of the goods. The unique floral essence with a mildly bitter finish made my developing mind go “Ooh…. what’s that ?” That’s when I remember coming to isolate this peculiar flavor and understand it for what it is. It was ajwain that made that particular Amritsari Macchi spectacular. Otherwise it’s just another deep fried fish with spices. The ...

Back in the day when I was the Indian cook at Google, mornings used to be pretty hectic for us from the minute the crew walked in. We’d spend the first part of the morning going around from pillar to post, gathering our ingredients for the day. It’s usually quite a scramble, and there wasn't a minute to spare. That's why one morning, I found it rather strange to see three of my fellow cooks and the Executive Chef gathered in front of the Indian spice shelves at 6:00 am deep in conversation. They were holding on to a bright yellow jar with a puzzled look on their faces. “Did you order this?” The Exec Chef asked me, and held up the jar labeled Compounded Asafetida. “You actually cook with this s***t?” he asked me in disbelief. "Oui Chef" I replied. "There's a reason why the French name for this spice is Merde du diable”. (the devil’s poop). Being  classically trained in French culinary arts, chef got it right away. For those who are unfamiliar with Asafetida, ...

Growing up in a household with a catholic mother and a muslim father gave me an edge over the other kids in school. I got to celebrate twice the number of festivals. In our house, Christmas and Easter were celebrated as fervently as Ramzan Eid and Bakri Eid. As the world celebrated Bakri Eid, also known as Eid-al-Adha earlier this week, it made me remember the time when I was a young child growing up in Mumbai, and how this festival helped me understand some of life’s most important lessons. Bakri Eid is a festival where Muslims all over the world perform the Qurbaani; the ritualistic sacrifice of an animal if they are able to. On this day, the experience of Abraham is remembered where he was called upon by God to sacrifice his son Isaac. Every year on Bakri Eid, I was told I was too young to go with him to see the Qurbaani happen. Dad would leave early in the morning with my uncles and return a few hours later with a wicker basket full of mutton parts, all cut up into pieces and layer...

I get so many crap forwards on my Highschool Whatsapp chat group, it's hard to keep abreast. We, the eight friends who make up this group all grew up together and went to the same school in a little coastal suburb called Bandra in Mumbai India. Even though it’s been over thirty years since we graduated, and even though we all live on different continents now, when we are on that chat group, we become those same teenagers again. And the kind of forwards that usually get tossed around tend to be the kind that reflect that particular era of our lives. You know … the kind that inspires uncontrollable snickers and snorts from Beavis and Butthead. Which is why I was pleasantly surprised by this post that surfaced the other day. It was a PDF forward with the title: 207 page treasury of 375 Mangalorean recipes, possibly all the way back from our Great Grandparents' Culinary Skills. I just could not resist. I had to dive in and dig further. And what a treat it was! This was an exhausti...

The Plantations of the American South are an important aspect of her history. At the height of slavery, there were something like 46,000 plantations stretching across the southern states, according to the National Humanities center. The mild temperate climate, plentiful rainfall and fertile soil contributed to the reasons why these operations flourished. That and abundant enforced slave labor at that time. When traveling through South Carolina, a visit to a Plantation is featured on every tourist’s to do list, which is what I chose to do during my recent visit to the Palmetto state. The plantation I chose to visit was the Charleston Tea Garden; the only existing tea plantation in the United States. For some strange reason, I felt a deep connection to my heritage and my roots while I was there. The start of America’s story with Tea began around the 1770s, as an effort to meet the ever increasing British demand for tea at that time.   Tea plantations had been cultivated in large sca...

I was recently in the Palmetto State; South Carolina, attending a wedding. While I was there, it was hard to miss the signs Boiled Peanuts for Sale. They were everywhere! You couldn’t go past a Grocery store, gas station or Boardwalk without seeing a sign for it. The Boiled Peanut appears to be a South Carolina obsession, so much so that it is named the official snack of the state. There’s even an annual festival for it every September in a town called Bluffton dedicated to this hardworking legume. Seeing this brought a smile to my face, the kind of smile that’s usually associated with nostalgia and fond memories. Boiled Peanuts were one of my favorite snacks when I was a child growing up in Mumbai.   Boiled peanuts take me back to our Sunday family outings. All the Uncles and Aunties, siblings and cousins, all would meet up either at Land’s End or Carter Road for an evening out. These are the two sea facing boardwalks in our suburb town of Bandra West. Back then, before the endles...

Nothing says summer grilling better than Burgers. How can you not love sinking your teeth into a flame broiled beef patty enveloped in two slices of bun with all the fixings. However I find the American approach to burgers to be a bit too bland for my spice loving palette. Growing up in India, our version of the Burger was the Cutlet. Cutlets came to India via the Europeans, and like so many dishes, we proceeded to make it our own. This is probably the chief cause for all the confusion when you research Cutlets on the web. The rest of the world understands a Cutlet to be a very finely pounded slice of meat, either beef, veal, pork or chicken that’s dredged in egg and breadcrumbs and pan fried. We Indians understand the cutlet to be a seasoned ground beef patty that’s dredged in egg and breadcrumbs and pan fried. Something seems to have gotten lost in translation, but the end result is something quite marvelous. The Hamburger purists don’t have very nice things to say about my approach ...