Passage to India

My New York posse rolls 8 deep. There's Julie, the former advice columnist and future HBO exec, Jane, the architect with a heart of gold, Liz, the loyal young teacher with legs to her ears, Lila, the brassy, sassy life of the party, Katie, the one most likely to live happily ever after, Andrea, the incorrigible flirt, and Shane, the brains and brawn of the operation.

Our gift-giving theme for Secret Santa this past Christmas was a flight of the imagination --- the working(wo)man's holiday. We each wrote our names and a country that we've always dreamed of visiting and tossed the scraps of paper into a hat. Santas would select gifts in keeping with the fantasy vacation.

It was in a dead heat with Morocco, but I chose India as "my" country because I am intrigued by its juxtaposition of old and new, sacred and vulgar, razzle-dazzle and dirt-poor. Its ceremonies, movies, costumes, jewelry, and colors are life-affirming and inspiring. (At left: my snake charmer costume for a "Burlesque Circus" fancy dress party in Dublin in 2005.)

I remember going to a celebration for Ganesh on a windswept beach near San Francisco as a kid. The idol is submerged into the sea, mums scatter and float away, the scent of camphor fills the air: it was thrilling, if odd. I loved the story of Ganesh, that tragic, elephant-headed young prince; I fell for Indian mythology almost as hard as I fell the soap opera tales of the Greek gods and gray whales (twin obsessions circa age 9.) At 23, I got a tattoo of an Indian elephant. They're gentle, loyal and so strong and disciplined they can move mountains. They mourn their dead.

My adopted mom is one-fourth Indian. In the early 70s, she went on a sojourn to live with relatives there. In photos, she stands with aunts and cousins of some remove, wearing a nose ring, her hair thick, long, and oiled. She is so beautiful. She still has many of her saris. When my dad and I moved in with her, my double-height bedroom window was hung with a silk sari of saturated purple and pink that cast a glow like the inside of a genie's bottle.

Over the years, there has been talk of a family trip to India, but my sister and I have had to make do with beautiful saris which our parents bought for us in 2003 in a "little India" neighborhood in Chicago. I've never found an occasion to wear mine outside dress-up in the house. You'd think one would make a reason.

And the food! For years, I didn't like Indian flavors, so complex and fiery, and then my taste buds woke up and now, oh, I do. It was really a no-brainer for Katie, the one who picked my name out of the hat. She presented me with a red silk scarf with silver embroidery and a cookbook, The Food of India: A Journey for Food Lovers.

Tonight I took my roommates and our taste buds on a little magic carpet ride to India. But as it was a work night, I kept it very simple (one could argue it's hardly Indian cooking at all, then!). Dear Jane brought home take-out naan, potato samosas, and a few other little nibbles to round out the meal.

From American Food Writing, I made Madhur Jaffrey's moong dal, pea-green, cumin-scented "everyday" lentils from the woman who taught the West to cook with spice (she published An Invitation to Indian Cooking in 1973 as well as a series of other influential cookbooks and appeared, as an actor, in over 15 films). From The Food of India, I made yakhni pulao, rice flavored with cardamom and cinnamon. And finally, a dish of my own invention: roasted curry cauliflower and carrots, thin-sliced, crispy-roasted, and so tasty you want to just toss 'em in your mouth like popcorn. (All recipes below serve about 4.)



Moong Dal

Madhur Jaffrey says this simple recipe, beloved throughout India, regardless of caste, "can be used for the white urad dal, the salmon-colored masoor dal, and the large arhar or toovar dal as well." I used mung beans.

1 1/2 cups moong dal (aka mung beans)
2 cloves garlic, peeled
2 slices peeled fresh giner, 1 inch square and 1/8 inch thick
1 tablespoon chopped flat-leaf parsley (or cilantro)
1 tbsp. ground turmeric
1/2 tsp. cayenne pepper
1 1/2 tbsp. kosher salt
1 1/2 tbsp. fresh lemon juice
3 tbsp. ghee or vegetable oil
A pinch ground asafetida
1 tsp. whole cumin seeds
Lemon or lime wedges for garnish, optional

1. Clean and was dal thoroughly. Put dal in a heavy-bottomed 3-4-quart pot, add 5 cups of water, and bring to a boil. Remove the froth and scum that collects at top. Add the garlic, ginger, parsley, turmeric, and cayenne pepper. Cover, leaving the lid very slightly ajar, lower heat, and simmer for 45-75 minutes [note: the given recipe said 90 minutes. My dal was soft after 45.] Stir occasionally. When dal is cooked, add the salt and lemon juice.
2. In a skillet, heat the ghee or oil over medium-high flame. Add the asafetida and cumin seeds. As soon as the cumin seeds turn dark (this will only take a few seconds), pour the oil and spiced over the dal and serve with yakhni pulao, crispy fried onions, and roasted curry cauliflower and carrots.

Yakhni Pulao

Adapted from The Food of India. I didn't have whole cardamom or cinnamon sticks on hand, so I used ground. The recipe calls for only 15 minutes of simmering time. It was about 40 minutes until my rice was perfectly tender and the stock was absorbed. I used brown basmati rice, so that may explain the long cooking time.

1 cup brown basmati rice
2 cups chicken stock
6 tablespoons ghee or oil
1 teaspoon ground cardamom (or 5 pods)
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon (or 1 2-inch stick)
6 cloves
10 black peppercorns
2 bay leaves (or 4 Indian bay leaves, aka cassia leaves)
Salt
1 onion, VERY finely sliced.

1. Wash the rice in a sieve under cold running water and drain.
2. Heat the stock to near boiling in a saucepan.
3. Meanwhile, heat 2 tablespoons of the ghee or oil over medium heat in a large, heavy-based saucepan. Add the cardamom, cinnamon, cloves, peppercorns, and bay leaves and fry for 1 minute. Reduce the heat to low, add the rice, and stir constantly for 1 minute. Add the heated stock and a big pinch of salt and bring rapidly to a boil. Cover and simmer over low heat for 30-40 minutes. Leave the rice to stand for 10 minutes before uncovering. Lightly fluff with a fork.
4. Meanwhile, heat the remaining ghee or oil in a frying pan over low heat and fry the onion until soft. Increase the heat to medium-high and fry until the onion is dark brown. Drain on paper towels, then use as garnish.

Roasted Curry Cauliflower and Carrots

If the only cauliflower you've ever had is steamed, prepare yourself for a revelation. Sliced as thin as dollar coins and roasted 'til golden brown, they need just a dash of seasonings to become exciting. You can use almost any combination of flavors --- garlic and olive oil; lemon and thyme; mustard, honey and cayenne pepper --- to transport this basic dish to another continent.

1 cauliflower head, florets sliced 1/8-inch thick
4 carrots, slices into discs 1/8-inch thick
About 2 tablespoons ghee or vegetable oil
About 1 tablespoon mild curry
About 1 teaspoon cinnamon
About 2 tablespoons minced fresh parsley
Kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper
Dash of cayenne pepper

1. Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F. Arrange cauliflower florets and carrots on a baking sheet, in (more or less) a single layer. Drizzle with melted ghee or oil. Bake for 15 minutes, tossing once or twice.
2. Remove sheet from oven and sprinkle vegetables with curry, cinnamon, salt, and pepper. Taste and adjust seasonings as needed. Return to oven and bake another 15 minutes, until the vegetables are starting to turn golden brown and are a bit dried and shriveled (trust me, in this case, it's a good thing).

One last photo: an Irish friend went to work for Google in India and had a Bollywood themed going away bash. My Dublin friends throw hands-down the best costume parties, because everyone takes it quite seriously and makes an effort to impress and humor their fellow revelers.