The confused case of the Non-spherical Gulab Jamuns

As the headlines should go: After a prolonged hiatus, the venerable Pettai Maami returns back to Blogosphere amidst much crying and pleading of her co-bloggers. Yes sirs and ma’ams…she’s back..and not alone this time, I’m afraid. Somewhere around the turn of 2009, Her Highness tied the infamous knot with an equally crazy Maama and has stepped into the next level of insanity. She has been busy shifting gears and trying out various forms and shapes a roti would come out and hence you can imagine the apathy of her fellow human beings

This post is dedicated to the brave heart, the guy with a golden heart, the mard of Hyderabad…Pettai Maama..

Considering my lack of culinary skills have already flourishingly been advertised all the blog, let me come straight to the point.

Day 1: I should probably name this as “Day 11” as I had conspicuously been avoiding the initial ten days by not going inside the kitchen with P.Maama and have been running rations on maggi, subway, swathi tiffins etc. P.Maama’s pleading voice finally reached and I had to enter the terrifying world of cooking. Not that he knew it any better than me, but as he had already said yes to a couple of other household chores that I couldn’t do either, I wasn’t left with anymore options. “Just take care of cooking, I’ll do all the rest” said he. I thought I was getting the better end of the bargain and well….. So, day 1 was making a list of the much needed items that were meant for survival.

Day 2: I go inside the kitchen and look around. Come out of the kitchen. Call my Mom and say “ Um…Hai Amma, so how do you make rice..no no..i need the exact measurements…. You are referring to the white colored rice right?? And dal?? Oh…is that how you make sambhar?? Um…which one are you referring to?? I’ve got like a 5 different types…should I use normal water or mineral water… and by 1 spoon..do you mean 6 pieces of the dal??....wait wait..tell it again from the start..i didn’t note it down.” and so went the conversation for 4 hours. Lunch time came and went and it was finally 5 pm when we had sat down to eat. The dal/sambhar (whatever you want to call it as) turned out in a murky brown color and the rice…well..lets just say that the sambhar kanji was made well.

Day 3: This time, I started cooking from early morning and added a new item to the menu- Karimidhu/ Sabji. Due to the earlier day’s debacle, P.Maama had gotten hold of the phone number of a mess nearby, just in case if there is a need of a back up plan. The karimidhu ended up not seeing the daylight and was given a very hushed up funeral.

And so flew away the days of experimental breeding…oops…cooking. About a month after we had moved to Hyderabad, I got a call from the miss.bengaluru and her better half saying that they would be visiting soon. Aha…Guests at last..of course I wouldn’t make them leave without trying out my yummy food..would I?? so, the conspiracy started, and Me and P.Maama decided to make Gulab Jamuns :D, thinking its never too late to try out something new!!! I was thoughtful enough to not to mention it to the visiting sirs and ma’ams.

So, we opened the gulab jamun packet and it said that we had to mix ‘so and so’ gms of the powder with ‘so and so’ gms of water. Well..the dough we were supposed to be making ended up being too gooey and so P.Maama had to run to the store again to get another packet of it! We finally managed to making a huge boulder of the dough, inspite of the fact that my little and thumb finger weren’t budging out of it. The same story happened to the jeera again and it ended up being too much for what was being required. We were already running out of time and we still had to make small golas out the dough. We had no idea what size it was to be made. So, it was decided to make it to the size of what was given on the cover of the powder packet.

Finally we started to fry these golas, only to find them bubbling up even huger and ending up to the size of cricket balls!!!!!!! We realized that it was never too late and started reducing the size and frying them again. I didn’t even bother to notice the huge hairline fractures or discoloration from red to black or the smell of the oil burning. I just wanted the whole fiasco to get over and dumped all the fried jamuns in the sugar syrup and ran away from the area.

Few hours later, our friends arrived and I just couldn’t help but thrust them a bowl of blackened gulab jamuns and praying that both of them would forgive me for making them eat it. The evening went on smoothly with neither of them commenting on the jamuns until it was their time to leave. Sir PV nicely asked “so, hows the cooking going??” P.Maama obediently said “ Man, shes just the best. Makes amazing food in the whole world!!!” AM smiles indulgently and compliments me on the same. PV couldn’t help himself and asked me “Am sure… You do make yummy non spherical Gulab jamuns!”. What followed was me vehemently defending my lovely jamuns and ended up pelting PV with the golas which neatly bounced off his face!! AM quietly dragged him away murmuring something about a train to catch and P.Maama helped me clear up the rest of the jamuns. After the debacle, neither did AM return for a visit nor did I even try to touch the jamuns which are now safely stored in the fridge

Aside this fact, all you guys are invited anytime to our house, and I assure you, you will be served P.Maami's trademark Gulab Jamuns ejjactly like the ones she first made. :D :D

Maami..Golu...

So, the Navarathri season just got over, I really thought I should give you guys a taste of Pettai Golu. So, here goes the looong list…

Golu PaDi Setting: This is one of the starting jobs my dad and mum were supposed to do- Done with a lot of fits and grumbling, they used to set it up anyway. I usually ended up as the one who had to sort out the nails and screws for the paDi joints; my sis and granny would carry it further by covering up the wooden parts with dad’s old veshTis.

Golu Bommai Setting: Cleaning up the loft and the carton boxes which are stuffed with the bommais of I dunno which era; this was one work, me and sister used to love to do. Dad used to get the boxes down, me and sis used to remove the cloth covered bommais as if there were some ancient treasure, commenting non-stop on what should go where- though I should admit that paTTi’s word was always final. My favorite bommais included the Dasavartharam set and the Chettiar-Chettichi set.

Oh and of course, the “Park” setting- getting soil from chitti’s garden, placing it on paper and sprinkling mustard seeds on it. It normally was sis’s job to keep make sure it grew during the 9 days and also clean the small little pond we made by thermocol dabbas.

Visitors and Visiting: Aah..the number of maamis visiting the house, their tales of how-grand-their-marumagal’s-golu and then its comparison with their neighbor’s was the main routine of entertainment!! Also, the goody bags along with the Vethala Paakus were always a point that was bragged about. “Ooh, you know for Golu this time, I bought some make up set; thought it would be nice to give it to the young girls who would come home”- the costlier, the fancier; the fancier, the better to brag about. Anyways, the worst part of this visiting business would be when you have to sing in front of the Golu setup. I and sis would be under pressure to practice songs taught by our paaTu maami, and re-render it in front of the hawk-eyed maamis- you see, feedbacks are usually sent to our paaTi, so we HAD to do the perfect impression of the Briha when we sang Brova-Bharama. Songs couldn’t be repeated for neighboring houses, so we had to do a preliminary shortlist which our paaTi would give a go-ahead for.

When we were younger, we were usually dressed up in costumes and sent off to get Vethala Paakus- Lord Krishna, Japanese lady, Madisaar Maami- the whole package used to so colorful. We used to gear up for these costume parties…well, all we wanted was that packet of sundal Rama maami made. :D

All said and done, I do miss these crazy aspects of Golu; Sitting here, in some corner of India, I really would love a visit, grab a potlam of sunDal and spend time with sis and home. Though, I did catch up with Ram-Leela, I do really miss home. Can’t wait for Diwali…Chennai..here I come!!!

Filter Kapi

What is the connection between tam- brahms and the above mentioned beverage?? Is it some kind of unexplainable link that we are born with? A curse…no no…it can never be a curse…a divine blessing, I presume. The exhilarating feeling it gives when we have one Davara full of filter kapi along with Hindu newspaper is out of the world! A day never goes perfectly without the above combination

The aroma of the coffee powder drifting from the Raja Coffee house in C.Pettai main road itself gives me a high! My paaTi had a huge selection procedure when it comes to buying it from any coffee shop. No..not those fancy CCDs or Baristas where they give you froth laden, creamy, water with coffee powder sprinklers, but those where you get coffee beans and powders for daily usage. C.Pettai has 3 main coffee shops and a couple of other smaller ones which don’t even get short listed by my paaTi.

Coffee Day- it was a pioneer launching, actually one of the first fancy shops that opened up in C.Pettai. All the vinyl board on the shop’s headboard impressed paaTi (compared to the hand painted Raja Coffee, where we used to buy) and we soon joined in the queue to get our ½ kilo kapi poDi along with its freebies- variants included plastic mug, one stainless karandi and of course, a davara-tumbler. I still remember my paaTi saving the coupons for increasing her pointless-saving-stainless steel-davara tumblers account. It took a while for her to realize that there is no point in getting those davaras when the coffee decoction is watery!! So, we went back to Raja Coffee which also had started the freebie business (Competition boss!!) to get back their old customers. I think raja coffee was established somewhere in the 1800s, this coming from the oily look of the half deaf coffee mama. But since we had changed patrons, oily mama started giving us scorching looks and more chicory in the kapi poDi. PaaTi started complaining again about oily mama not treating her as a venerable customer. So, we again had to shift to the newly opened Narasu’s coffee- ‘Bhesh bhesh!! Remba naNNa irukku’, right opposite to Raja Coffee. Though business never picked up well, oily mama moved to Narasu’s for no particular reason. Narasu’s also had a business strategy, giving away free packets of chicory or parrys’ sugar. But the business started soaring when they decided to start giving home deliveries. Now, all my paaTi has to do is dial their number, make sure her instructions are clearly spelt back by half deaf oily mama “Kaal A Kaal B, No chicory” (These lines were god’s lines- never to be forgotten at any given point of time- by the oily mama/me/dad) And very soon, oily mama’s son used to drop in the packets of ½ kg every now and then. Thankfully, we haven’t changed our coffee shop for the past couple of years.

I still savor the first batch of decoction prepared everyday morning by paati (no..i haven’t tried making it; tried once, was a huge fiasco) along with sudoku in the Hindu and Vishnu Sahasranamam on Jaya TV. Aah! What will I ever do without filter kapi daily morning????

The Dog's Umbrella

The plan was set. The time decided. The venue was some newly opened restaurant in T-Nagar. The gang was the usual- my best friends which included the sardonic TJA and the goofy LAS. The more we hung out together, the more we found out our potential to hog. We took an oath to try out all the restaurants that has ever been printed on the daily supplement of The Hindu, “Metroplus”. Food in whatever form or shape, when presented in front of us had the tendency to disappear within seconds. Even though maami was a strict veggie, she used to join the rest of the gang without hesitation.

Till her higher secondary, maami never used to go near non-aacharam foods; for that matter, not even a veg-non-veg combined restaurant. Enter TJA and LAS…not only did they introduce me to the delicacies of the world, they introduced me to the world’s yummiest food item…the Mushroom. Now, the entry scene of the exotic mushroom in my life is much earlier. It was around circa 1996, if I remember right. My dad had just come back from one of his tour trips and was bugging my mom to try out some new food item (of course!!) he had had earlier. Though mom was a bit hesitant, she finally agreed onto it. So, one glorious day, he bought a whole packet of button mushrooms and kept it in the fridge. A whole 5 minutes had passed when I heard a blood curling scream from the kitchen. I and my sister ran to the source, to find my paati heaving about the new weird bulb-like that had been kept in the fridge. Our explanations were to no avail and my paati had already decided on its penalty. Thus, by the next day morning, it was sent off with the garbage. The whole episode was kept quiet from dad so that he wouldn’t get upset.

More mosquito coils…soin soin soin…..circa 1990. As grandpa’s place had a huge garden attached to it, this turned out to be the ideal place for mushrooms to grow during rainy seasons and that’s where I had my first class on the subject when I accidentally plucked one.

Lesson 1: Mushrooms are not be touched; they are supposedly toxic!

Lesson 2: it’s a non-veg food item

Lesson 3: Its called “Naai kodai” (translated as Dog’s Umbrella)

Well, of all the above lessons, the last chapter intrigued me. My paati being my venerable tutor, I asked what that term meant. She frowned at me for even asking about that. Then, she told me a tale which gave a gist of something that would make me not go near that thing- that it’s a plant which grows when dogs pee on it!!!!! And this is the same reason she gives me even to date.

After a couple of months of joining college, I used to cringe at the thought of my friends having it as a delicacy. Not because, I didn’t know what it was, but from the thought of my paati’s explanation would make me feel sick. I tasted it first when I had my first pizza- and fell in love with it!!! Have become a great drooling fan of mushrooms and always make it a point to order at least something with it. I still do not clearly understand why my paati had to give such an explanation for it, but I do respect her (and her weird theories) and don’t mention about the food items I had had with Naai kodais!!! As to how we spent our hard earned money at that ridiculously expensive restaurant in T-Nagar- that would become a separate post altogether. Till then…d goodbyes……

Koozhu Time...!!!

“Kozhande….. Inge vandu enaku help panuda (Kiddo..Come help me dear)”, screamed my mom. I was in my usual deep slumber and mumbled back a no to her. “Di..unga amma koopdra..po! Somberi kada!(Oye! Your mother is calling…run)”..that was my granny expecting me to go help. Ha! Sleep is more important.“Vethhal podrendi…seekram vaa(Am making Vethhal..come fast!)”. Magical words that woke me up!

Vethhals are actually papads in Tambram version; made out of this gooey stuff called Koozhu and is a basically a composition of mashed rice and something that makes it heavenly. Now, I would’ve given you the recipe, but am totally clueless about what happens in a kitchen and hence, I wouldn’t be helping you.

This is one of the many compulsory phases that would happen in most of the tambram families during summer. During the month of mar-apr, it would be MaavuDu/ MaagaLi mania. My granny would start being more active in the house, waiting for the sound of the hawker on the road to scream MaavuDu. There used to be a pressure between my granny and her sisters as to who would make MaavuDu pickle first. The first one who to do so, makes it a point to distribute one jaaDi to all the relatives just to show off her maavuDu making prowess. After the maavuDu saga gets over, it would be time for MaagaLi(Sarsaparilla Root). Another variety of pickle, it’s actually a plants root and has a very disgusting stench. I made a mistake of once offering to help my granny to cut those roots, only to end up with an unbearable stench around myself. Even after that pickle is made, it doesn’t drop its scent. I still remember my classmates running away from me whenever I used to bring it for lunch.

Coming back to koozhu, the whole process of it getting transformed into vethal itself is an art. I just love it when my granny takes it out when it is hot from the cooker, and gives it to me in a kiNNi. Yumm. The men of the house have just one task- to transport the koozhu utensils to the moTTa maaDi. The kids of the house have to keep the leering crows away from the koozhu; also at times, would be armed with a hand fan to drive away possible terrors like “e’s”. But, mostly they would end up sharing their loot with the crows, which would be followed with a “Endi en pranana vaangara??!!” session with the moms. The transformation in itself normally takes up to a week until it dries to becomes a vethhal. Again, this also has a good time frame competition between maamis; but, this would be based on how many actually survived from our lootings!

Just the one thought of having a meal with all the three sends me to bliss. Maybe I should try learning the recipes. Paati…Here I Come!!