Getting streetwise with Mee Goreng

Noodles were the first thing I'd ever learnt to make.  Needless to say, it was a disaster and had to be scraped off the pan because I had overboiled everything in sight. The second time I tried, it wasn't so bad if you don't count the fact that I had emptied nearly half a bottle of vinegar into it. It took me quite a number of trial and error methods to earn it an 'edible' status. Of course, there is one little thing I still wish to learn, for which I could give my left arm and right leg for.

Now if you ask me, there’s nothing in the world more exciting than watching noodles tossing on a wok. Better still, if it’s happening in a food cart on the road.  Call it the man’s expert wielding of the wok or the soya tinged noodles flying in the air and neatly falling in a pile below, it never ceases to amaze me how he possibly does it. What if the noodles flew out of control to land on an unsuspecting customer’s head?  Or even worse, his own.  My cook Hori does a neat noodle toss in my very humble non stick pan, something he claims to have learnt from a Chinese restaurant in Mumbai. Of course he does grumble about not getting a wok big enough to ‘make the noodles dance’. (That reminds me to blackmail the husband into buying me one of those babies)

 

Last evening it was pouring like mad and I had this sudden craving for some spicy noodles. While I had some daal, fish curry and a dead looking soya bean curry lying in the fridge, I decided to give it a miss and dig out a Malaysian stir fried noodle recipe that was lying unattended for long.

Now, Mee Goreng is a very popular spicy noodle dish sold along the streets of Singapore and Malaysia by street-hawkers to high end restaurants.  You can add as many vegetables and meat of your choice. The original recipe included squid, barbecued pork and chinese sausages. You can also add mushroom, baby corn and bean sprouts for veggies. I skipped those since I didn’t have any. The red chilli paste gives this dish a unique flavor and the much needed zest. You need to cook it on a high flame to retain all the wonderful flavors.

Abracadabra! Kanchkolar Kofta

I love magic. In every form. There’s something about it which gives me joy, wonderment and hope. As a child, I found nothing more entertaining than watching rabbits crawling out of empty hats, things appearing from nowhere, money falling  out of people’s ears, noses and whatsoever.

As I grew up, I found tales of flying carpets, magic faraway trees, obliging genies and angelic fairy godmothers more pleasing than man landing on the moon and mountains. They transported me away from my world of exams, homework, evil Math teachers, more evil Math problems and many such woeful entities. With time, films and books did their bit, adding more fuel to the fire – and I was possessed. From Gupi Gyne to Gargantua, I grew wide eyed about everything which did things out of the ordinary. 

Like this neat bunch of raw bananas for example, which the next-door aunty lovingly gave me just a  few days back.

Now bananas I like but for the life of me couldn’t imagine how people possibly liked to eat them raw! Now no offense to those who like it, it's just that I have too many tragic childhood memories to let go off. As a kid I hated them, but somehow they always found a place in my mother’s kitchen under some pretext. Worse if someone had a tummy upset, this unpalatable vegetable would feature in almost everything that was on the menu for that day. I myself nursed horrific memories of it literally being shoved down my throat whenever I complained of a tummy upset. To cut a long story short, I never found them delectable enough to feature on my Most Wanted food list.

Now these bananas were plucked from her tree (“You can make yummy thoran with these, you know?”) and were lying in my refrigerator for long. They would have eventually found their way to the dustbin, had they not known magic. They turned into these beautiful koftas (dumplings) yesterday morning which did not look, feel or taste like anything that reminded me of my tragic childhood. Sometimes we all could do with a bit of magic in our lives, don’t you think?    

 

Dum Aloo in a Jiffy and My Blog

I was a very fussy child.

Maa can vouch for all the days of turmoil she went through where I was the resident terror throwing all kinds of food tantrums. Veggies were a strict no-no, save for potatoes. Fish was only restricted to Chingri (Prawns) and the occasional Ilish (Hilsa). My protein intake was never a problem though, 'coz I was a die hard carnivore since I can remember (Eggs strictly limited to omlettes). Maa therefore had a very tough time making me eat.

To make matters worse, people who invited us to their homes always went  'tomar meye toh kicchhui khaye na' (translated: your daughter doesn't eat anything). Dad would describe this as 'playing carrom’, flicking the occasional Kumro (Pumpkin), Jhhingey (Ridge Gourd), Lau (Bottle Gourd) and the likes out of my plate. At times, I also resorted to stuff my pockets with things I didn’t find palatable. Maa of course didn’t find this very amusing. Bottom line was - I wasn’t the typical kid every parent would die to have.

With passing time and peer influence (rather pressure), I began to explore my taste buds and discover food in all its glory. Fish and vegetables no longer made me squirm, though I maintained some very strict reservations and distance against few things (another day, another post).

I gradually noticed people no longer giving me that strange look of disgust when they invited me to their homes. They now went, “O baba tomar meye toh onek khawa shikhey gecchey!!.” (Oh my goodness! Your daughter has finally learnt to eat). This feat was regarded something as close to having climbed Mount Everest. Yes, we Bongs are pretty touchy about our food in general.

It’s amazing how realization always fails the punctuality test. It was at this phase of my life, where I was a good 1987 kms away from home, I realized what all I had missed. I started taking food much more seriously. So much that it gradually led something close to a passionate love affair, which l can shamelessly admit to. I saw myself spending more time fantasizing about food than Johnny Depp. Yes, that serious.

I began exploring food not only on my plate but also in my kitchen. Results were varied – from good, bad to ugly. But I discovered my true love for cooking. It became my own little space where I could celebrate the highs and get over the lows, amost like an instant catharsis! With this blog, I intend to do all of that and much more. So, Lets Pakao!

This is probably one of the easiest, simplest and fastest way of making Dum Aloo or Aloor Dom (Potatoes cooked/baked in a spicy masala). It is a tad spicy but you can adjust the heat according to taste.