My Obsession

My obsession with getting back to my roots has led me to discover the delights of ‘Bengali Market’ of Jaipur. Tucked away behind the big malls and buildings over an erstwhile nallah, this market supplies us with veggies we have almost forgotten about. The truck comes on a Saturday all the way from Calcutta or Kolkata and if we go any other day we will only get some stale leftovers.

Guddu is delighted by the long ride and gets me white brinjals, luscious raw bananas. Something called squoosh, which tastes heavenly just cooked with jeera.

My favourite kancha lanka he gets by the kilo. One bite is enough to transform an ordinary dish and transport you to heaven. It has been rumoured that SwamiVivekanand carried some of them in his jhola during his Bhikshu days.

The baby aloos are also a rarity and apart from alurdom I get aloo chaat made as well.

These are  called squoosh.

The picture will not be complete without the 'sadher lou banilo more bairagi.'

English Lunch

English Lunch

Saturday turned out bright and sunshiny. Ideal to go out so decided to do the Regents park garden cafe.  Took the bus to Angel and then to Bakers street. I love the bus rides, as opposed to the tube. He doesn't understand that having grown up in Delhi with DTU and DTC buses what a treat it is. I feel I am living out a dream. No pushing and pulling everyone so well behaved. I made the grave mistake of not carrying my Oyster card. So poor Dinaer had to buy tickets. While Divir was handling Husband. Lunch was perfect we had Pimms the British drink. The garden was lovely with all colours of roses valiantly defying the weather and adding cheer to the place. While going back the 30 number bus didn't have provision of tickets within and Dinaer had to get off. The bus swept past. The ticket machine wasn't working. So much back and forth....

As one can see one had to add salt and pepper to make it less bland?

We had a choice of vegetarian curry with nan. Signs of changing times.

With Divir around how can one miss out the sweet dish. But I guess we too busy devouring it to take the pictures.

A Special Day

                                    A Special Day

   This time I tried out the prawns with sarson paste ( ground dutifully by Guddu in Jaipur) and Kalonjeer that I had carried along . Added on were the usual suspects tomato puree and green chillies. The tomato puree in the tube is wonderfully thick and just the right shade of red. But despite squeezing it with my best efforts, I always feel that a large portion gets wasted.

 In the other pan I made paneer with the usual ginger-garlic-onion paste.

Please note how the roti puffs up on the tawa. These are packed rotis that when microwaved, husband protested it was raw, uncooked and inedible. Drizzling it with a bit of olive oil it is almost homemade.

To make sure that it was a complete party, I made the pulao.

The evening newspaper Divir gets- its distributed free is filled with advertisements. This one shows property deals. Prophetic? Symbolic?

Mushrooms stuffed

Stuffed mushrooms

 Fresh mushrooms that Kyar Singh bought from Hypercity Mall. The one place where you get these exotic vegetables.

Otherwise we make do with canned ones. The cheese on top makes it a fusion food and a class by it self. Don't miss my beautiful jewelery, all gifts of love from different friends. 

Alur Dom

Alur Dom decorated with kancha lanka for effect. Please note the wonderful flower at the back that’s supposed to be kept in the middle of the dining table for a cheerful effect but I always find it pushed to a corner and remains largely ignored. It goes without saying that the alurdom largely forbidden now( because potatoes, and fried items are to be best forgotten)brought back a tidal wave of childhood memories. Luchi as an accompaniment. Heaven. I discovered that green chillies have a lot of health benefits as well. Here is one thing that tastes just out of the world and is good too! Cancer, heart disease all are kept at bay.

stuffed baingan

                                         

                                Stuffed baingan

Stuffed with all the goodness and joy of Kyar Singh my Bahadur who has just returned from a brief holiday in Nepal. Specially made for Divir who is also on a brief holiday home in between many other important things in his life.

Buns and omlette

                                       
                                  Omlette and Buns

This breakfast takes us back to our JNU days and the bun omlette of Kanshi Ram’s Dhaba that we fed on to starve off our hunger pangs. Except that it was very greasy but that probably added to its flavour.

Now we make our omlettes only with the egg whites and minimal oil.

The silver conch shaped dishes are a gift of Diwali and one is supposed to serve dry fruits in them I guess.

Paneer

                           Paneer in tomato gravy and my painted pot from Cambridge

This has tomato puree and tomato ketchup added in its gravy apart from the usual onion-garlic-ginger paste giving it a tangy sweet and sour taste.

This painted pot was bought in a market stall of artists of Cambridge. I hope it stays for sometime and is not broken by the usual culprits. My man who cleans and mops and constantly complains that I have too many pots making it difficult for him to clean up.


The tandoori roti made at home is done by turning the tawa upside down. The arvi (colacasium) in loads of tomato gravy with ajwain is an all time favourite.

Kali Mirch and Mutton

                                 Mutton with Kalimirch from Begum’s Kitchen

Just too delightful. Probably kind words to describe it but as Purva my rather happy-go-lucky member of Thakurma’s gang said it was ‘jhakas’. The lamp in the background with inlay work one of the many mementoes of husband’s long career. 

Mangetout with aloo gobhi

         
                          Mangetout with gobhi-aloo.

Its pronounced (manjetua) a French word meaning pea shells without pea pods. I came to know that they are called snow peas a s well. They were tender and sweet. Yes even this ordinary veggie turned out just so out of the world with the usual jeera, and combination of sabzi masala readymade packet that I had taken for Divir.

My tale would not be complete without Rahman the Afgani vegetable seller who I even managed to scold for tossing his potatoes around; all in Hindi. With Divir chastising me ‘Mamma you don’t scold people in England’.

‘Don’t worry son, when we converse in Hindi, he understands the scolding as part of belonging as well.’