DAY 19
It took us the entire day to reach Jammu.
DAY 20
25 August / Jammu
Jammu is famous for rajma, or kidney beans. I spoke to one of my friends and he told me there was a certain sardarji in the Nandini locality, who owned a small dhaba at some hidden corner there and served the tastiest rajma chawal. So after an hour of making ‘U’ turns and trying to locate the shop, we entered the quaint little dhaba. Sardarji greeted me and I replied, ‘Sasriyakal paaji, do you serve rajma chawal here?’ He smiled, asked me to have a seat, and explained, ‘Not just any rajma chawal, we serve it with lots of desi ghee.’ They get the beans from a region called Bhaderwah, in the foothills of the Himalayas, which is said to produce the best rajma in India. People from different parts of the country ask for rajma as a gift whenever somebody is travelling to Jammu. So it was a great idea to pick some for my grandmother.
Sardarji further explained, ‘Usually, people who go to Vaishno Devi come here to eat rajma chawal made in desi ghee. This is a famous dish here.’ Though I wasn’t very enthusiastic about having it there, since I get to eat it almost every Sunday back at home, I was curious why it was so popular? Soon a steel plate arrived in front of me, and I was overwhelmed by the aroma of ghee. It was a very traditional way of serving rajma chawal; there was rice on the bottom topped with rajma, a bit of sliced onions and dollops of ghee on top. The beauty of this rajma was that it was buttery and melted in your mouth, so soft, unlike the ones served in Mumbai or Delhi that takes hours to cook. Using the Jammu rajma I decided to make a Mexican bean salad for sardarji and his co-workers as a token of appreciation for cooking such fabulous food for the past 40 years. Mexican bean salad was pretty desi in nature. It had fried nachos-shaped papad (thin, crisp disc-shaped food typically based on seasoned dough made from black gram, fried or cooked with dry heat), topped with thick rajma plus curry, finely chopped mixed salad tossed with chaat masala and lemon juice and lastly garnished with grated cottage cheese.
After it was ready and sardarji had had the salad, he and his working family gave a verdict, ‘The mixture you made, the salad with papad, is something I am eating for the first time. It is very tasty but needs ghee.’ Everyone burst out laughing. We took a group photo, which sardarji promised would be stuck on the entrance wall as a fond memory.
DAY 21
26 August / Jammu
Jammu has a sizeable Dogri population and they are known for their cuisine, which has a distinct taste with local flavours. The idea today was to explore a cuisine that most of us hadn’t heard of. Mr. Mangotra, who has lived in Jammu all his life, had invited me to taste and learn the basics of Dogri cuisine. We found him through an agency that had been preserving Dogri culture, art, craft, music and food for years.
After doing the usual greetings and a bit of chit-chat, I realised that we were in Dr. Raina’s house, who was a big fan of FoodFood channel and the real Dogri cook that Mr. Mangotra highly recommended. Mr. Mangotra came across as a good conversationalist, who was well-versed with the Dogri culture. He explained, ‘The Dogris inhabit the hilly tract bounding the mountains of the Kashmir Valley on the south and extends to the plains of Punjab. They are descendants of the Aryan race and speak the Dogri language, a mixture of Sanskrit, Punjabi and Persian, whose origin goes back to the Indo-Aryan branch of Sanskrit.’ He also mentioned that Dogri people are fond of singing folk songs and are passionate about their art, culture and food.
From here, Dr. Raina took the lead and explained, ‘For Dogri people life is a struggle because of the weather and the topography but food is a means of celebration. Dogri cuisine is a perfect blend of satvik (class of foods that are fresh, juicy, nourishing and gives necessary energy to the body to achieve balance) and rajsic (class of foods that are bitter, sour, salty, pungent, hot, or dry, and are thought to promote sensuality, greed, jealousy, anger, delusion, and irreligious feelings) qualities as mentioned in ancient scriptures. It purifies, nourishes and is beneficial to the body and helps in the evolution of higher senses.’ The beauty of the cuisine is in the preparation, combination and the sauté procedures that are followed. The food is not extravagant and is perfect for digestion because of certain spices and the ingredients used.
Dr. Raina had already prepared a lot of food and made me taste six different dishes. First was the popular madra (pulses cooked with yoghurt and garnished with dried milk and dry fruits). Maa Ka Madra is a delicacy relished by the Dogri community on festive occasions. With that there was anardana chutney (raw pomegranate seed relish). Anardana is a speciality of Jammu, as they grow only in hilly areas, in the wild. The seeds are dried and sold in the market. As a community, the Dogris are also fond of relishing sweet, sour and tangy tastes all in one go, which is present in their auriya, a dish of yoghurt and potatoes, spiced and fermented with rye. Another dish, called ambal, was made of pumpkin, jaggery and tamarind. This sounded super yum and I thought would perfectly complement a puri (unleavened deep-fried Indian bread). The fifth dish was khatta meat, a preparation of goat meat curry cooked with sour pomegranate seeds and lime juice. Lastly, there were the breads and rice, which included mitha path (sweet anise-flavoured rice cooked in ghee) and thothrus (lightweight fried balloonshaped breads).
MAA KA MADRA
(Pulses cooked in a yoghurt gravy.)
Ingredients
2 cups black gram (urad dal), soaked overnight and half boiled
1 black cardamom (badi elaichi)
4-5 cloves (laung)
8-10 black peppercorns (sabut kali mirch)
1 inch cinnamon (dalchini) + 1 inch for tempering
1 tbsp rice flour
2 tbsp mustard (sarson) oil 1 tsp cumin (jeera) seeds
A pinch of asafoetida (hing)
1 tbsp coriander (dhania) powder
¼ tsp turmeric (haldi) powder
1 tsp chilli powder
Salt to taste
1 cup water
1 cup yoghurt
2 tbsp clarified butter (ghee)
¼ cup dry fruits
Coriander leaves (dhania patti), chopped
Method
1. Soak black gram overnight and pressure cook it with little salt and one and half cups of water until almost cooked.
2. Remove the seeds from the cardamom and discard the shell.
3. Grind together cardamom seeds, cloves, black peppercorns and one cinnamon stick. Break the other cinnamon stick into small pieces.
4. Mix rice flour with one cup of water and keep aside.
5. Heat mustard oil in a saucepan and add cumin. When the cumin seeds turn light brown, add asafoetida and fry it for few seconds.
6. Add the fresh masala powder we made, cinnamon pieces, coriander powder, turmeric powder and fry for few seconds.
7. Add cooked black gram, chilli powder, and salt. Mix properly and fry for two to three minutes until spices coat the gram.
8. Turn the heat to low, gradually add beaten yoghurt while stirring and continue doing so until the yoghurt mixes well. Keep stirring and cooking the mixture to save it from curdling.
9. Add rice flour mixture with ghee when the yoghurt thickens and starts leaving oil. Once it comes to a boil, cook for three to four minutes on low flame, until the gram is fully cooked and reaches the right consistency. Add roasted or fried dry fruits.
10. Garnish with coriander and serve hot with roti or rice.
∼
So many dishes were on the agenda that day that there was no way that I wasn’t helping them. Also, it was a massive learning experience for any chef. While preparing the ambal, I saw that they used a very interesting technique called dhuni, in which mustard oil is poured on a hot burning charcoal and put into the utensil containing the freshly prepared dish, which lends the dish a smoky aroma. Dr. Raina further explained that the Dogris were fond of community feasts known as dhams which were organised on various ceremonies. They were mostly vegetarian dishes made in a dham and then served on plates made from broa
d leaves of a tree, most commonly, Banyan tree leaves. Also, all these meals are incomplete without the tasty pickles that they locally make. After two hours of hard work, I had earned my meal and it was time to eat. For lunch, Dr. Raina’s mother and wife joined us as well. It was a fabulous sight to see the whole family eat together with me and I was asked to eat with my hands.
It was a colourful meal; all dishes had a distinct colour, texture, aroma and presentation. The ambal was one of the best pumpkin dishes I had ever had. It was packed with flavours; the tanginess of tamarind blended well with the pumpkin and the smoky taste took it to another level. The thothrus were so light that one person could have 10 of them and still eat a couple more.
The meal was finger-licking good. A cuisine I’d never even heard of blew me away, it proved that no amount of learning is enough; there is always room to explore and learn more as you travel. It also made me think that there had to be someone responsible to make such near-extinct cuisines popular all across India. It was time to move on to my next destination, which was a sweet shop. For the same reason, we had requested Dr. Raina to not prepare any desserts. We thanked him for sharing all his passion and knowledge of Dogri cuisine with us, and we drove off to Pahalwan Di Hatti.
Pahalwan Di Hatti is located in the Old Heritage city and was opened in 1934 by Nanto Shah. It is one of the iconic landmarks for visiting famous politicians and celebrities. Most people believe it is the quality of milk used in making desserts that stands out. It is also a shop which is visited by a lot of youngsters and they love the chocolate burfi (an Indian sweet made from milk solids and sugar and typically flavoured with cardamom or nuts) here, which sells like hot cakes. The other popular dessert is the sund panjeeri, loaded with good quality and quantity of dry fruits. I ended up eating four pieces of the chocolate burfi despite it being a bit high on the sweetness quotient; the taste of chocolate was coming through. The next day’s journey would be a long one, from Jammu to Punjab, and hence, after the sweets, we called it a day.
DAY 22
27 August / Gurdaspur
I hadn’t shaved for 23 days at a stretch. I was now getting used to the thick stubble, though it made my face look a bit untidy and frankly, I looked a lot older too. We were about to reach IHM Gurdaspur, Punjab, after a long journey to meet the new generation chefs and inspire them to do crazy things in life. A dear chef friend, Aarti Thapa, a senior faculty at the college, welcomed us to share our travel stories and experiences with the students. It was a great interactive session, which was followed by an internal cooking competition organised by the college. Amidst all this, having been an IHM student in the past myself, it reminded me of how strict we were with grooming standards, so I chose to shave my beard off and it felt like shaving off memories. Those 15 minutes I spent in front of the mirror were great to reflect back on what all I’d learnt in the past three weeks. After this small breather and an inspirational trip to IHM, I felt rejuvenated and I was ready to move further into Punjab and experience some authentic drool-worthy food.
DAY 23
28 August / Amritsar
The land of five rivers, lush green fields and people with big hearts, is how I would sum up Punjab. I was back to my schedule of rising early morning; this day was going to be exciting as we were headed somewhere unusual. The destination was Attari village in the Amritsar district of Punjab, three kilometres away from the Indo-Pakistan border at Wagah. It is situated 25 km west of Amritsar and is the last Indian station on the rail route connecting Lahore, Pakistan, with Delhi.
Punjab has one of the most fertile lands in India and same is the case with Attari. The speciality of this village is that a lot of rice is grown here. The merit of being a traveller who loves to talk and socialise is that you find good people who not only feed you good food but they also make you a part of their family. To be my kind of a traveller you have to be a bit shameless and greedy, that’s the only way you get the real deal. So my objectives were very clear; I had to climb on the tractor, visit the fields, eat yummy earthy food. My producer had found a family of farmers who were ready to host us for the day and also happy to educate me about their life.
Farmers who were well off had simple but well spread out houses next to their farms. They generally lived in big joint families and milked their own cows in their backyard. So I was going to spend the whole day with Harpreet Singh and his family. Harpreet was an educated farmer and belonged to the new generation and believed in making a change in the way they cultivated rice. As I entered their house there was that earthy, rustic fragrance in the air. The porch was spacious, as big as a two BHK in Mumbai; here I was greeted by more than half a dozen men sitting on a wire cot, called charpai. One of them was his father who was wearing a blue coloured turban and was the head of the village. He was a highly respected man known for keeping his word and giving valuable suggestions for the development of their community. They all gave me a hearty hug and welcomed me in traditional Punjabi style with a glass of lassi (yoghurt-based drink) and kheer. They immediately asked Harpreet to give me a tour of the fields to make me understand how they irrigated their fields through a tube well.
As I went through these huge rice growing farms, or more commonly known as paddy fields, the idea of living in boxed cities suddenly felt claustrophobic to me. There was a huge tube well right in the centre, which was used to send water to the entire field. There were ways paved out for the water to flow in a certain direction. Harpreet, without hesitation, asked ‘Do you want to take a bath from this tube well? We do it all the time and the water is chilled and clean.’ Now, that was the best shower that I have ever had! Trust me, the force of water was fit for an elephant to take a bath in, and yes, the water was crystal clear. After the bath, I changed out of my city clothes and opted for a simple village style vest and dhoti (garment worn by an Indian male, akin to a skirt, consisting of a piece of material tied around the waist and extending to cover most of the legs) with an orange turban. It was time now to climb a tractor and ride back to the house for the real deal: food. The tractor ride was as fun as it could be; I felt like Sunny Deol from one of his movies! It was already late afternoon, so I decided to take an afternoon siesta on the charpai outside in the porch before the big party in the evening.
In the evening, the porch was full of hearty laughs as we discussed food, life, religion and India. Harpreet had promised that the dinner would not be any ordinary one; it was a local feast prepared by the ladies of the house. Every single dish was cooked on slow flame, lit by wood and dry dung. What was on the menu? Sarson ka saag, matar paneer, chicken curry, boondi raita, dal jeera, meethe chawal, paranthas and makai roti. As they had done so much, the least I could do was teach Harpreet how to make a parantha, as his mother complained that he did not know how to cook at all. I taught him how to make a chana dal parantha, as he wanted to learn something healthier. To top it all, Harpreet had planned a surprise Bhangra party. Around 50 villagers came together and there was a huge bonfire that was lit. We sat around it with our plates filled with food and hearts filled with happiness. No hotel food would ever come close to this meal. Every bite I ate, I wanted to shake my head and look at the camera and give a ‘Nigella’ kind of expression. This was real Indian food, no fuss, filled with pure spices, ghee, vegetables and love.
I learnt my lesson that slow-cooking is a technique that makes a world of difference to any dish you cook, it helps the dish retain its nutrients and makes it tastier. With a full-hearted meal, drinks and dance, the day came to an end and I bid goodbye to everyone with a heavy heart. I had earned a friend for life: Harpreet. One tip: the next time you travel, look for people in the interiors of the city, and they’ll give you a day to cherish for the rest of your life!
DAY 24
29 August / Ludhiana
‘Sat sri akal. Ki haal chal?’ is the way you greet in Punjab and ask, ‘Hi, how’re you?’ with respect. Now that I was in Punjab I had picked up a few Punjabi words. Besides the lush fields of Punjab, the
state is unanimous with its big road-side dhabas.
I was in Ludhiana, one of the richest cities in Punjab. A year back someone had given away 50 BMWs as wedding return gifts to his closest friend and relatives. The real objective for me was to try a dhaba or two for their famous rara chicken; it would have been unfair had I not tried good chicken dishes after coming all the way to Punjab, wouldn’t it? Apparently, the best dhaba serving excellent rara chicken in Ludhiana was Aman Chicken. Manpreet, the owner’s son, explained, ‘Aman Chicken is about 30-years-old now; it was established in 1985. Our speciality is rara chicken. There’s an endless list of chicken dishes. If you’ll read about our restaurant on the internet, it’ll tell you that our butter naan (a type of leavened bread, typically of teardrop shape and traditionally cooked in a clay oven) is very famous. We wrap it with a special white butter and cream.’
I could already envision myself gaining at least three to four kilograms from today’s meal. Soon, I was in the kitchen and I met the tandoor specialist who revealed the secret behind the butter naan, ‘Make the naan. Spread dollops of butter, and then fold it like a handkerchief and put more butter from the top.’ They were very hush-hush about the rara chicken recipe and I was sure they wouldn’t give it away. Nonetheless, they were doing so much for me that it would have been unfair to not showcase some of my own culinary skills to them. With help from their tandoor specialist I invented a new dish called Balle Balle Chicken. It used chicken tikka (Indian dish of small pieces of meat or vegetables marinated in a spice mixture and grilled) as a base, which was wrapped with a thin roti and the corners were pinched so that the chicken stayed inside the roll. Then, it was covered with a tandoori marinade and grilled in the tandoor. It came out perfectly cooked in a beautiful colour. ‘Trust me, you’ll do a balle balle dance step once you try it!’ owner Manpreet said as he took a big bite.
India on My Platter Page 6