Aloo Gobi Desert with the Righta Raita

Back in August, I attended my best friend’s wedding. She and her husband are of Indian heritage, and they incorporated many Indian traditions into their wedding. They also incorporated many of their friends into Indian tradition—that is how I ended up in a sari for the event:

(I’m the Indian Care Bear on the right.)

I loved wearing it and I’m proud to own it, even if I never have another chance to wear it again (come to think of it, today is Halloween…that may have been a missed opportunity…).

That doesn’t change the fact that I am white as the day is long and have limited instincts where Indian cooking is concerned. Didn’t stop me from attempting homemade parathas, though.

I may not know much about the business of making these things from scratch, but I do know that they are not supposed to turn out with the taste and texture of a pocket pita. Parathas are stuffed flatbreads (in this case, lentil-stuffed) and mine came out…how shall I put it?…”meh.” That just about sums it up.

The recipe I (kind of…) followed was this one, and while I don’t think any of my changes should have caused them to come out wonky, I do think I lack the sweet talk and soft touch to make them cooperate with my WASPiness. So I won’t post the full recipe with step-by-step tutorial, as I imagined I would when I embarked on the project. Here are some progress shots, though:

Parathas VIEW SLIDE SHOW DOWNLOAD ALL

This story does have a happy ending. See, the recipe for the filling made a huge quantity (like several cups), and each paratha only requires a tablespoon or two—I barely made a dent. So once I was done with my paratha experiment, I incorporated the rest of the filling into my Indian-inspired entrée, and it turned out so, so tasty. Start here:

Red Lentil Dal (vegan)

Ingredients:

• 1.5 cups red lentils
• 1 tbsp ground ginger
• 1/2 tsp cumin
• 1/2 tsp sugar
• 1/2 tsp turmeric
• 1/2 tsp cayenne (optional, or to taste)
• 1/4 tsp asafoetida (optional)
• 1.5 tbsp oil
• dash of garlic powder
• salt to taste

Directions:

1. Simmer lentils in 2 cups of water with turmeric and salt to taste until soft and water is absorbed (maybe 10 minutes…keep an eye on it).
2. Heat the oil in a large pan and add cumin and asafoetida (if using). When it starts to sizzle, add lentils, ginger, sugar and cayenne. Fry until all moisture is absorbed and the mixture begins to get a little crumbly. NOTE: I was in paratha-process at this point, but for the sake of making the following aloo-gobi-like entrée, I think you could skip the frying step and just simmer the lentils with all the spices and oil and be done with the dal.
3. Set aside.

“Aloo Gobi” with Spinach and Dal (vegan)

Ingredients:

• 1 cup frozen chopped spinach
• 2 large potatoes
• 12 oz cauliflower florets
• 1 tbsp oil (I used olive)
• 1 clove garlic, minced
• 1/4 cup chopped onions
• Red Lentil Dal (see above recipe)
• 1/2 tbsp curry powder
• 1 tbsp lemon juice

Directions:

1. Set your spinach out to begin thawing. Fill a large pot with water and bring to a boil.
2. Meanwhile, chop potatoes and cauliflower into bite-sized pieces. Boil for 10-13 minutes, or until fork-tender, but not mushy since you will be cooking them further. Drain.

3. In a large skillet, heat the oil over medium-high and all the onion and garlic. Sautee for a minute or two, then add just enough water to cover the bottom of the pan. Bring to a simmer.

4. Add the dal and spinach, stir smooth.

5. Add the potatoes and cauliflower, plus rest of seasonings (curry, lemon juice, salt and pepper) to taste. Stir until well-incorporated and heated through.

Meanwhile, you might like to make some raita! I’m not at all sure that this is authentic—I eyeballed the ingredients in Trader Joe’s raita and then improvised my own—but if you would like a delicious, savory accompaniment to the above dish (and are not vegan) I highly recommend throwing this tasty side together.

Raita

Ingredients:

• 1 Persian cucumber (these are small, about the size of a kirby cuke, but skinnier—feel free to use a normal cucumber equivalent)
• ~1/8 c minced carrots
• 1/4 tsp ground ginger
• pinch salt
• pinch dried cilantro (perhaps coriander would be fine)
• 1/8 tsp garlic powder
• 1/4 tsp cumin
• 1 tsp lemon juice
• 1/2 cup nonfat yogurt

Directions:

1. Cut up your veggies and place in a small bowl (a cereal bowl will be fine)
2. Add the rest of the ingredients except yogurt and give them a stir.
3. Add yogurt and stir until well-incorporated. Taste and add more seasonings, if you like. It is my opinion that homemade raita should be very subjective.

Plate it all up with your paratha/breadstuffs of choice and feast!

My sub-par parathas (sub-parathas?) were somewhat rescued by a couple of yummy chutneys:

The greenish one is a mint chutney and the brown one is tamarind. Mixed together, they became sweet and spicy. LOVE me some tamarind. If you’ve ever been to an Indian restaurant and ordered samosas as an appetizer, the brown sauce they serve with it is usually tamarind—it’s sweet.

As for the raita, I don’t suppose it’s necessarily traditional to mix it up with the entrée, but I enjoyed it most when I loaded my fork up with the aloo gobi stuff and then dipped it straight into the raita.

And yes, these dishes definitely fall into the category of tastes-even-more-amazing-the-next-day! Which is a good thing because you’ll be eating leftovers for a while. No complaints here!

Now that I’ve written like, the Bhagavad Gita of all blog posts about Indian meals, I don’t suppose anyone will actually make any of this. That’s ok—this meal came about through experimentation, trial and error, and that’s what makes one a better cook. The best lessons in cooking are learned while doing.

The lesson I learned here? Go to a restaurant next time a paratha craving strikes.

Have you ever made Indian food? Any successes (or otherwise) in particular?

Illuminations

Turns out Gena’s mom is an amazing artist. I had a peek at her collection, “Illuminations,” tonight at the First Street Gallery. I would encourage any New Yorkers to go enjoy a look at her work, on display until May 22.

Looking at those paintings of trees and considering the title of the show, I had a good think on the word “illuminations” and decided I’ve had a few of my own, so to speak.

Things are in flux for me right now, and I’m a little overwhelmed. That accounts for my lackluster presence in blogland lately. This is not to say I’m on a downward spiral—quite the opposite, in fact.

For one thing, the Boyf no longer earns his nickname; we ended our 2.5-year relationship about two months ago. It hasn’t been a cakewalk, but I think I might actually feel a little lighter now that it’s behind me.

At the other end of the spectrum, my roommate, who is like a sister to me, is about to have her wedding. Though it’s bittersweet to move on from our comfy roomie-ness, the joy I feel for her is incredible.

In the midst of it all, I started seeing a counselor in order to gain some intense unbiased, third-party perspective on all the thoughts and feelings that have converged on me recently (and not so recently…). I know I’m being pretty vague, but as a generally private person, I’ve already divulged 100% more than I’m used to revealing here. One thing I’ve taken from my sessions with the counselor, however, is that I need to be writing. A lot. So please be witness to me acting upon that advice.

My cooking has obviously fallen by the wayside in the meantime. The part of my brain used for conjuring new recipes is otherwise occupied, so when I do cook, I “get by with a little help from my friends,” if you know what I mean.

Thank you to Gina for her Slow Cooker Eggplant Curry recipe—I added mushrooms, green beans and an extra hit of curry powder. It was a mountain of veg with but a molehill of whole wheat naan bites, and it has fed me lunch all week.

My naan stash also made it into an Ethiopian meal, courtesy of the upcoming Happy Herbivore cookbook (you know it’s available for pre-order on Amazon already, right?). Turns out I didn’t have any injera bread on hand (go figure), so naan stepped in as a pinch hitter for this meal.

I’d never had Ethiopian food, let alone made it myself, so I think I loved this Yater Kik Alitcha recipe all the more so for it. It’s a deliciously spiced yellow split pea dish (the green beans were my own addition, as they are to pretty much everything else I eat, actually…) and you really need to plan on getting the Happy Herbivore cookbook ASAP so you can taste it too.

Speaking of peas, I also tried Lisa’s raw pea soup this week. Mine wasn’t raw because I nuked some frozen peas briefly to start the recipe off, but I’ve been eating microwaved peas since time immemorial so that taste holds some comfort for me. Loved this combination of peas and avocado!

With a little massaged kale salad and sesame ginger drizzle, it was a super-filling meal and super-green too, so I know my innards are happy with me.

Oh, and don’t forget the juicer pulp crackers for dipping—that was the best part!

Clearly, I have a number of bloggers to thank for keeping my meals healthy and interesting when food inspiration isn’t at the fore of my daily energy expenditure. It’s a good thing, too—I’ve had a little too much birthday mentality where sweets are concerned for, say…the last four months.

The good news is that my resilience hasn’t deserted me. Not for a minute, actually, and I have that to be proud of. In fact, the first third of 2010 has brought me all good things, come to think of it. Though I’m short on new recipes in the kitchen, dealing with my challenges this year has been a recipe for success, both personally and professionally. My value at the office is greater than ever, and my personal relationships have brought me to a new level of maturity and independence (remember when I signed the lease for my first studio apartment on Monday? That was awesome.).

For the first time in a while, it’s what I can do, rather than what I can’t do, that is illuminated. I just need to get out of my own way.

A Meal at Chez Panisse

As I mentioned yesterday, I got to fulfill a pretty major foodie fantasy during my trip to California a couple weeks ago. I had lunch at Chez Panisse.

In case you haven’t yet made yourself acquainted with Chef Waters, allow me to introduce you to her eversobriefly, courtesy of the Chez Panisse website itself:

Alice Waters, chef, author, and the proprietor of Chez Panisse, is an American pioneer of a culinary philosophy that maintains that cooking should be based on the finest and freshest seasonal ingredients that are produced sustainably and locally. She is a passionate advocate for a food economy that is “good, clean, and fair.” Over the course of nearly forty years, Chez Panisse has helped create a community of scores of local farmers and ranchers whose dedication to sustainable agriculture assures the restaurant a steady supply of fresh and pure ingredients. 

“When you have the best and tastiest ingredients, you can cook very simply and the food will be extraordinary because it tastes like what it is.” ~ from The Art of Simple Food by Alice Waters

Alice also created The Edible Schoolyard program at a local middle school in Berkeley. By involving the students in the growing of their own garden, she has created an “eco-gastronomic” curriculum that teaches healthy, sustainable eating habits. You might also recognize her from Slow Food International, “a nonprofit organization that promotes and celebrates local artisanal food traditions and has 100,000 members in over 130 countries.”

I think you get the picture. But just in case you don’t, I have a few to share. :)

Chez Panisse’s Cafe is cozy—hardly the crisp, intimidating atmosphere I expected. I should have known better. It is in Berkeley, after all. I probably should have gone whole-hog and worn something made of hemp, rather than worry about looking out of place in blue jeans.

The kitchen is even open for observation.

I could have stood right there and made a meal for myself, but I thought better of it and sat down with my parents at a table complete with menus and everything. ;)

Right off the bat, the bread was amazing. Again, I could have feasted on simple sourdough and butter, but I paced myself. A good thing, too—little did I know that my appetizer would be the highlight of my meal!

It was a pizzetta topped with leeks and black trumpet mushrooms. I don’t know what kind of cheese it had, but no matter—this dish knocked our socks off. I say “our” because, as you can see by the photos, I immediately gave away slices to both parents so they could taste it too.

For my entree, I ordered the spring vegetable stew, which was a vegetable curry topped with basmati rice and dill raita.

This was delicious as well, despite the fact that it didn’t make my eyes bug out of my head the way the pizza did. (My eyeballs were grateful for that—they’ve had a rough time of it lately, and not just when I taste amazing food.)

For dessert, we ordered the apple-cherry tart with vanilla ice cream; a plate of chocolate with dates and candied orange peel; and a flourless chocolate cake that came with a special cream (I’m ashamed to say I don’t remember what was special about it—I was still thinking about the pizza).

But trust me, it was plenty tasty.

While I’m jealous that my parents live within an hour’s drive of Chez Panisse, I can’t complain about them putting down roots nearby—now I have a place to crash between my many future visits. Right, parents? Many! Hint, hint.

And yes, I know they’re reading this. I can hear them narrowing their eyes.

Have you ever been to Chez Panisse? Ever heard of Alice Waters? I only learned about her once I had my finger on the pulse of all things foodie-licious, but right now I’d much rather have my finger on Chez Panisse’s bread basket…

Naan Sequitur

Alright, time for vacation slides!

This is me in Union Square, San Francisco:

(Have I sent you running to the next blog yet? Fear not: there is reason and recipe to this post. I promise this’ll be less painful than looking at Aunt What’sherface’s 5,000 shots of Uncle Hoochiedigger next to a cactus. …Unless you’re a cacti-phile, in which case, my deepest apologies. For every reason.)

I visited my parents at their new northern California home two weeks ago and was treated to a string of great days chock full of…

…helping supervising my nephews dying Easter eggs (“Aunt Diana is a total nut-job.”)…

…and dining (at?) Chez Panisse (!). OMG x infinity, I know.

We did an overnight in San Francisco…

…during which time we browsed the Ferry Building…

…and its Farmer’s Market…

…pausing briefly for the non-food-related pursuits of visiting the Disney Family Museum (awesome) and seeing Wicked.

Mom and I even spent a day in the Napa Valley. We had lunch at the Culinary Institute of America’s Wine Spectator Restaurant at Greystone…

…where we drank no wine.

But rest assured we made a special stop on the way home to make sure we’d gotten our vino on.

After myriad culinary and foodie experiences, you’d think that upon my return home to NYC I’d be whipping out a bit of this,

…but in fact, my return to the kitchen looked more like this:

That there specimen be what you’d call a naan-wich. And yes, there’s an explanation.

At the Ferry Building farmer’s market, there was a vendor called Sukhi’s Gourmet Indian Foods. Aside from a selection of yummy sounding spice packets and mixes, there was a variety of prepared foods that had my mouth completely watering. Of course, there were samosas, but there were also parathas (tortilla-ish breads) filled with pumpkin and other such deliciousness. They also had these curious little bundles called “naan-wiches.” They were simply pieces of naan folded in half and stuffed with various fillings: chicken, chickpeas, spinach, etc.

I wanted it, and how. Imagining how it would fare in my luggage, however, was a less delicious prospect. My hands were tied—perishability kept me from sampling the goods that day.

I took matters into my own hands once home, though. I had a can of chickpeas, so I thought some hummus was in order. Given that it was destined for a naan-wich, I chose Dreena Burton’s Curry Chickpea Hummus from Eat, Drink & Be Vegan.

This stuff is good. I substituted tahini for cashew butter, but otherwise followed the recipe, and it’s amazing. I love that it contains raisins!

I actually used the hummus as the, er, masseuse for my massaged kale salad…

…and, of course, slathered it onto a piece of Whole Foods whole wheat naan (really good for store-bought!). For filling, I took the lazy route and plopped on a Trader Joe’s veggie masala burger (also really good for store-bought!)…

…and noshed on the best meal I’d had since Chez Panisse. A restaurant that deserves it’s own post entirely, by the way. I know better than to squeeze it in with all the aforementioned naan-sense.

Announcing the Happy Herbivore Cookbook!

The vegan world is about to be rocked in about T minus one year. Why? Lindsay of Happy Herbivore is publishing a cookbook, that’s why.

Never in my life have I enjoyed cooking quick, easy vegan recipes so much as when they come from Lindsay’s blog and e-cookbooks. More often than not, her recipes tend to call only for ingredients I already have on hand. And healthy, whole ingredients at that! This is a cooking style I can fully get behind.

It’s a good thing, too, since Lindsay honored me by making me a tester for her cookbook recipes. I kept it on the down-low until she made her announcement, of course, but now that the news is public, I feel no guilt whatsoever for inflicting a little old-fashioned drool torture upon you.

I made her Tamale Casserole for dinner tonight, and this is by far my favorite Happy Herbivore recipe thus far. Homerun, all the way. It’s like all the best veggie goodies of a chili with the accompanying cornbread baked right in.

Lindsay is a worldly woman, as evidenced by her mastery of not only Mexican flavors, but Indian as well! I’ve been enjoying kidney bean Rajma Masala leftovers all week.

And anyone looking closely at the Diwali party goodies from Saturday would notice that these are the very same Chai-Spiced Oatmeal Cookies that were among the spread of snacks.

So mark your calendars for a year from now, at which point you’ll acquire your new vegan Bible. This is going to be big.