BALLE BALLE CHICKEN
(Charcoaled chicken stuffed inside a bread roll.)
Ingredients
½-inch pieces or 500 gm boneless chicken breasts, tikka cut
¾ cup or 6 tbsp thick yoghurt
1½ tsp red chilli paste
2 tbsp ginger-garlic (adrak-lasun) paste
¼ tsp turmeric (haldi) powder
½ tsp garam masala powder
1 tsp coriander (dhania) powder
1 whole lemon, juiced
½ tsp sugar
1 tbsp mustard (sarson) oil
Salt to taste
2½ cups refined flour (maida)
¾ cup water, to knead
1 tbsp butter
Method
1. Marinate the chicken pieces with a marinade prepared by mixing thick yoghurt, red chilli paste, ginger-garlic paste, turmeric, garam masala powder, coriander powder, lemon juice, sugar, mustard oil, and salt together.
2. Keep only two tablespoons of the marinade aside for later use.
3. Keep the marinated chicken tikka in the fridge for at least two hours.
4. Meanwhile, prepare the dough with maida, butter, salt and water. Make soft dough just like you would make for rotis.
5. Preheat the oven/electric tandoor/BBQ. Mix one tablespoon maida to the chicken tikka marinade that had been kept aside. Now put only two chicken pieces in each skewer or shashlik sticks. Cook this for seven to eight minutes in the oven on high heat (220°C) until it is 80 per cent cooked and has a slightly charred appearance.
6. While the chicken is cooking, roll out small round rotis from the dough.
7. Now wrap this roti around both the chicken tikkas (that are 80 per cent cooked) on one skewer. Pinch the ends (basically, you’re enveloping the chicken with the dough). Brush little leftover marinade on this outer cover. Repeat this for all the tikkas.
8. Put these back in the oven for two to three minutes. Keep rotating to ensure that the outer layer is cooked evenly and gets a nice colour.
9. Gently pull these out from the skewers, in similar fashion in which you would take out tikkas.
10. Balle Balle Chicken is ready! Now you can dunk these in chutney and enjoy with your drinks. (This recipe may look tough but when you pull it off, you’ll be glad!)
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After the cooking was done, I moved on to explore the Chaura Bazaar of Ludhiana. One is sure to get something or the other to eat at every corner of this popular street; be it the famous Amritsari dal ki wadiya or the dal chaat. Panditji di Hatti is where you would get special paranthas. It was a small shop with 10-12 seats and all paranthas were being made only on the griddle, no tandoor at all. Panditji explained, ‘We make it with butter. We have paranthas stuffed with potato, onion, cauliflower mixed with roasted carom seed masala (ajwain masala) and they are all cooked only on a griddle.’ I ordered my favourite, the aloo-pyaaz (potato-onion) one. And as I took a bite, the flavour of onions and its crispiness satiated me. The combination of potato and onions was also superb. I must admit that the secret of Panditji’s paranthas was in his kitchen. As I had mentioned, there was no tandoor, all paranthas were made on the tawa, there were eight tawas in one line to help bring out the orders speedily, as a tawa makes the process slower because paranthas take time to cook on a tawa in comparison to a tandoor. Panditji shook my hand, charged me no money, and said, ‘Son, there is no other secret to cooking; it is God’s grace and your love to feed people.’
DAY 25
30 August / Ludhiana
After such excessive culinary binges for the last few days, it seemed like a good idea to start the day with some physical exercise. Today’s agenda was to learn about Gatka, a traditional South Asian form of combat-training in which wooden sticks are used to simulate swords in sparring matches. The terms Gatka and Shastra Vidya are often used specifically in relation to Punjabi-Sikhs. However, the art is not unique to any particular ethnocultural group or religion but has been the traditional form of combat throughout North India and Pakistan for centuries. Attacks and counter-attacks vary from one community to another, but the basic techniques are the same.
Harmandeep, the teacher of this particular Gatka group that we met, explained, ‘We have been doing it since childhood. It is not a game and is usually meant to be done in the battleground. It is specially practiced in Punjab, because this is considered the land of the Gurus.’ It was mesmerising to see young students perform; their movements were swift, they could use all sorts of defensive weapons and had an enviable amount of energy. Gatka involves the mind, body and soul; you have to be physically, emotionally and spiritually strong. Like most Asian martial arts, Gatka begins with footwork and tactical body positioning (pentra). To make it more rhythmic and to keep up the energy levels, a dhol (drum) is played continuously. The weapons used are called shastra. There were many, like swords, sticks, shields, polearms but the sharpest was the kirpan.
I loved the dedication these kids had and wanted to cook something sweet and special for them. So, I decided to cook Mishri Halwa (mishri means crystallised sugar lumps) for them. The kids loved it, I learnt a lot and now it was time for me to bid farewell and climb into the waiting Limousine. (Yes, a Limo! Someone in Ludhiana heard I was visiting and had generously offered a Limousine as my ride until I reached Chandigarh. WOW!)
MISHRI HALWA
(Sweet semolina pudding cooked with crystallised sugar lumps.)
Ingredients
¼ cup clarified butter (ghee)
½ cup wheat flour (atta)
½ cup water
Mishri, according to taste
A pinch of cardamom (elaichi) powder
1 tbsp almond flakes
Method
1. In a wok, heat the ghee.
2. Add the wheat flour and fry over medium flame till the flour gives out a nice aroma.
3. Add water and keep stirring to avoid lump formation. Cook for seven to eight minutes on low flame.
4. Add mishri, almond flakes and stir well.
5. After the flour is nicely cooked and the ghee starts leaving the sides, add the elaichi powder and switch off the gas.
6. Top with some more almond flakes and serve hot. Ensure not all mishri has melted away as it adds to the texture of the dish when you bite into it.
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After almost four weeks of bumpy rides, my entire back and body, head to toe, was sore and this Limousine ride was what I surely deserved. It was my first time in such a super luxury car and the first thought that crossed my mind on seeing it was that it was big enough for three people to comfortably sleep inside. The bar in the Limo was open for me but I preferred the good old Punjabi lassi to keep me company on my two-hour drive to Chandigarh. God bless Mr. Prabhjot for arranging that luxurious Limo for me!
DAY 26
31 August / Chandigarh
Chandigarh was the dream city of India’s first Prime Minister, Pandit Jawahar Lal Nehru, and was planned by the famous French architect Le Corbusier. Picturesquely located at the foothills of the Shivaliks, it is one of the best experiments in urban planning and modern architecture in twentieth century India. Chandigarh derives its name from the temple of Chandi Mandir, dedicated to the deity Chandi, which is located close to the city.
Apart from the love I have for the city for being extremely spacious and beautiful, I have another close connection with it; it is my best friend from college, Kanwardeep Singh Ahluwalia’s home town. Unfortunately, when I was there, he was busy working in Bangalore. However, his father is famous in Chandigarh for his superb pickles and had graciously agreed to have me over and give me a lesson or two in making them. When we had had paranthas at Gulshan Dhaba in Murthal and at Panditji’s in Ludhiana, we realised that a parantha is incomplete without a pickle. So we were all eager to have a go at it at uncle’s house.
Kanwardeep’s father, Mr. Rupinder Jeet Singh, was a man of many passions. He loved cooking, travelling and flowers. He had already travelled most of India by car and his
knowledge about the country was extensive. After having a long chat with him about India and his experiences on the road, it was time to enter the kitchen. He had already displayed 10 different types of pickles, in front of me, that he had prepared for the summer. It was fascinating to see pickles made out of chickpeas, mango, yam, chicken, bitter gourd (karela), glue berry (lasoda), turnips, radish, carrots, and drumsticks (sehjan ki phali). In a good year, uncle would prepare at least 50 varieties of pickles.
When I asked him where he learnt this art from, he replied, ‘No one has really taught me, I loved pickles and I followed my instinct to develop all these recipes.’ To increase the longevity of most pickles, he sun-dried the vegetables with salt and lemon and then fried them before pickling, especially in the case of yams and bitter gourd. As promised, uncle was now ready to teach me one of his favourite recipes, the Bitter Gourd (Karela) Pickle. It was very interesting to observe how organically the ingredients were treated and pickled and also how the blend of spices varied for each pickle. After this visit, I surely had new secrets in my ‘chef’s arsenal’ to pickle my food. I touched uncle’s feet, asked for his blessings, and headed for the second leg of my journey to the western part of India.
BITTER GOURD (KARELA) PICKLE
(Pickled and spiced bitter gourd.)
Ingredients
500 gm small bitter gourd (karela)
A pinch of asafoetida (hing)
2 tsp cumin (jeera) seeds
3 tsp fenugreek (methi) seeds
3 tsp fennel (saunf) seeds
½ tsp dried mango powder (amchoor)
½ tsp turmeric (haldi) powder
1 tsp red chilli powder
1 tsp black salt (kaala namak)
3 tsp plain salt (approximately)
1 cup mustard oil
Method
1. Clean the bitter gourds. Remove stems and chop them in half.
2. Rub these pieces of bitter gourds with salt and keep aside for an hour in a utensil. They release the bitter water; strain these gourds. Now pat dry them or let them sun dry for two to three hours. Deep fry these bitter gourds for seven to eight minutes.
3. On the side, in another vessel, dry roast the asafoetida, cumin, fenugreek and fennel till they slightly change colour. Grind these spices to a coarse powder (do not make a fine powder).
4. Now add these coarsely ground spices, the dried mango powder, turmeric, chilli powder, and black salt to the fried bitter gourds. Mix well.
5. Add smoked mustard oil (not warm) to this mixture. Do a final stir. Check salt.
6. Fill a glass or plastic container with the bitter gourd and mustard oil mix. Stir the pickle every day for the next two to three days. It has a long shelf life if you add enough mustard oil to cover the pickle.
DAY 27
It was time to leave the well-planned urban setting of Chandigarh. I left for the Pink City, Jaipur.
DAY 28
2 September / Jaipur
Monsoon had struck and it was time for some rains in this dry part of the country. For some, rains were a thing of beauty, while for others, it just meant traffic and inconvenience. We experienced the rains in Rajasthan and Gujarat. It was an absolute pleasure to drive on the highways through these states. I requested the driver to park our car, Tamatar, beneath the orange sky, plugged in my iPod and watched the sunset. The pleasure of experiencing nature’s bounty, sometimes, cannot be described in words.
It took us an entire day to cover the distance of 450 km between Chandigarh and Jaipur. It was in Jaipur that I had the good fortune of meeting Gulabo Sapera known worldwide for her snake-charming dance form called Kalbeliya. She made me realise that life is all about doing bigger and better things. She was born and brought up in a family of snake charmers in a small village in Rajasthan, but today, she had her own dance school where Kalbeliya was taught. She also had a primary school on the anvil that educated girls who never got the opportunity earlier to see the world outside their homes. And as if that wasn’t enough, she was also one of the few people responsible for putting Kalbeliya dance on the world map. After having a long chat with her, it was my luck that I got to perform one dance sequence along with her team in their traditional black dress. Next time you visit Jaipur, make sure you attend one of her performances.
This meeting happened on a scenic setting in a temple that was located on a small hilltop overlooking a lush green valley. The temple had an open kitchen and Gulaboji had kept a chullah (wood-lit stove) ready for some food to be made. She surprised me by cooking bajre ki roti (flatbread made of pearl millet) and Tomato Garlic Chutney for me. To thank her, I requested her to allow me to cook for her as well. I quickly churned up a dish called gulabo mirchi (Rajasthani chillies stuffed with cottage cheese and garnished with rose petals).
TOMATO GARLIC CHUTNEY
(A local spicy dip made from tomatoes.)
Ingredients
2 tbsp clarified butter (desi ghee)
1 tsp cumin (jeera) seeds
½ tsp mustard (sarson) seeds
A pinch of asafoetida (hing)
4 big and thick green chillies, deseeded and chopped
12-15 garlic (lasun) cloves
2 onions, finely chopped
¼ tsp turmeric (haldi) powder
2 tsp coriander (dhania) powder
½ tsp red chilli powder
½ tsp garam masala powder
5-6 medium-sized tomatoes, finely chopped
Salt to taste
2 tbsp fresh coriander leaves (dhania patti), chopped
Method
1. Heat the ghee in a pan. Add cumin seeds and mustard seeds and when they begin to change colour, add asafoetida, green chillies and garlic and sauté for a minute.
2. Add onions and sauté till they are translucent.
3. Mix turmeric powder, coriander powder, red chilli powder and garam masala powder in one fourth cup of water and add. Sauté for two minutes.
4. Add the tomatoes and salt. Mix well. Reduce heat to low once the mixture comes to a boil and cook for 10-15 minutes.
5. Garnish with coriander leaves and serve hot.
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Each bite into that bajre ki roti made me smell the flavours of Rajasthan. Technically, it is very difficult to make this roti as you cannot knead the dough too well because of the rough texture and the low gluten content that the grain has. It is almost impossible to roll out the dough into a round shape with the help of a rolling pin; you have to shape it with your own hands. It was very clear that Gulaboji was an expert at making these rotis. The tomato garlic chutney, made strictly in ghee, was an icing on the cake. After this unforgettable meal, and the lovely inspiring story of Gulabo Sapera, it was time to move on, to be back on the road and experience different sunsets through different eyes.
DAY 29
3 September / Jaipur
Rajasthan has a unique relationship with its palaces. The Hawa Mahal or the Palace of Winds is made of pink sandstone. Built in 1799, the front elevation, as seen from the street, is like a honeycomb web of a beehive. The design takes the form of the crown of Lord Krishna, the Hindu God.
I made my way to Rawat Mishtaan Bhandaar near Sindhi Camp, a culinary hotspot in its own right. The famous aloopyaaz kachori (flaky, crisp deep-fried pastry filled with spiced potatoes and onions) was invented here, almost 150 years ago. I met the third generation of the Deora family, the owner of this famous eatery. He greeted me warmly and spoke passionately about his family’s culinary legacy. The aloo-pyaaz kachori was made of, what he called, ‘Jodhpuri spices’ that included chillies, garlic, coriander, nutmeg and mace. The vegetables and spices used were grown on a field owned by the family. The produce came straight to the famous sweet shop to be used to make fresh kachoris.
I mingled with people eating there. Everyone was aware of how legendary the food was. They offered me food from their plates, things they thought I must try and some of which were their favourite food. Here, I came across the mithi mawa kachori (flaky, crisp deep-f
ried pastry filled with condensed milk). It was drenched in sugar syrup. I opened the kachori to reveal the soft crumbly filling made of khoya (dried whole milk solids). What I wasn’t expecting was the curious combination of crushed peanut and the onion seed (kalonji), a subtle twist to an ordinary plot. Interestingly enough, I also tasted my first sweet samosa (a triangular savoury fried pastry, usually with a filling inside)!
As always, I found my way to their kitchen. There, I met the men behind the magic. Three men sat crosslegged, together on a raised platform, shaping and filling the kachoris, preparing them to be fried into the crisp golden pastries. They too stressed on the fact that all the produce was grown by them and it was processed on the premises. They took a moment to show me how to fill and fold the kachoris. The rhythm with which their hands moved was definitely the key to the perfect shapes. Speaking of shapes, the kachori resembled a stuffed parantha, before it was rolled out into a flat plate-like shape.
I took my leave with yet another unique food memory. The afternoon was spent with a royal couple from the Bisau family. Eklavya and Natasha met me in the lawns of their palace and showed me how to make dahi samosa maas and dishes typical of Jaipur and the royal cuisine of their household. A very interesting preparation, dahi samosa maas was a complex mix of two very separate specialities of the region, laal maas and keema samosa. In case you are wondering, laal maas is a mutton curry, blood red in colour, because of the liberal use of red chillies. I also ate the gatte ki sabzi, a steamed chickpea dumpling coated in a light yoghurt-based curry. We dined in the Bisau family palace, which is now a full-fledged hotel, open to the public.
DAY 30
From the Pink City, I made my way to Udaipur.
DAY 31
5 September / Udaipur
The 420 km from Jaipur to Udaipur was very pleasant. The journey on the highway was smooth and the arrival of the monsoon made the experience very enjoyable. I arrived in the City of Lakes to taste the famous mirchi vada (chilli cutlet) at Jayesh Mishthaan Bhandaar. Besides their famous snack, their samosas and kachoris were also very popular. I met Sanjay Bajaj who explained that even though the principal ingredient in the mirchi vada was a chilli, the mirch wasn’t as spicy as one would assume. They were almost like jalapenos. These chillies were fat and bright green. The process involved deseeding them and then stuffing them with a potato mixture, similar to that of the Jaipur kachoris that I had mentioned previously. The only difference was the amchoor chutney (a spicy condiment similar to a dip made with dry mango powder) mixed into the filling. The chilli was then deep fried with a thick gram flour batter. The hot crispy mirchi vada was served with sweet and spicy chutney made of coriander and tamarind. Sold at a modest price of Rs. 20, it was a common breakfast item, popular amongst the residents of Chetak Circle, named after the famous battle horse of Maharana Pratap. I had come to realise that the quality of spices used in this region was exceptional. In fact, when in Udaipur, I suggest stocking up on local spices; hence, a short visit to the Dhan Mandi is a must.
India on My Platter Page 7