VT’s blog

To my friends who enjoy a glass of wine (or beer, tequila, rum, whisky, etc.) and those who don’t.

As Benjamin Franklin said, "In wine there is wisdom, in beer there is freedom, in water there is bacteria."

In a number of carefully controlled trials, scientists have demonstrated that if we drink 1 liter of water each day, at the end of the year we would have absorbed more than 1 kilo of Escherichia coli, (E. coli) - bacteria  found in feces. In other words, we are consuming 1 kilo of poop.

However, we do NOT run that risk when drinking wine & beer (or tequila, rum, whiskey or other liquor) because alcohol has to go through a purification process of boiling, filtering and/or fermenting.

Remember:

Water = Poop

Wine = Health

Therefore, it’s better to drink wine and talk stupid, than to drink water and be full of shit .

There is no need to thank me for this valuable information, I’m doing it as a public service.

© No idea.

Of Food and Tastes, some freewheeling. This is more of a question, less of an opinion. Whatever it is, here goes.

The other day, a friend was explaining the joys of the 'beef-fry and rum' combo. I said "haa ji, haa ji' like an ignorant dumb ass, because I have never really tried it. I know I can not really be blamed for my reaction; that is about as polite as one could get.

Now, as far as booze snack is concerned, my kind of Dilliwala's creativity actually stops at tandoori chicken. For the Veggies, the creativity stops at panneer tikka. Although I think most Indians, while drinking, tend to snack a lot too much and, consequently, grow beer bellies without actually drinking too much of beer, but that can be a different post.

As far as regular vegetarian 'family food' is concerned, the usual rajma-chawal-chole-naan-paratha combo is as close to gastronomical Nirvana as we Dilliwalas get to.

Being a born vegetarian, I have been 'blas-famous' enough to experiment with a hell lot of food.  I think food has a lot to do with the local culture, history and to some extent, faith systems. Local culture includes the natural, geographical conditions of that area- rain, soil, climate and all. Bongs suck upon rice and fish because that was the only thing they could (traditionally) find where they lived. The Panjus suck upon wheat and lentils precisely for the same reason. The same story goes for any other region in the world.

All said and done, purely on a global perspective, vegetarianism remains a big luxury.  A healthy luxury, but a luxury none the less. One realizes this when one lands up in some weird corner in a weird country and the waitress asks, "Vegetarian? What's that, sir? What exactly do you want to eat?"

Anyways, the point here is the basic fact about natural and acquired tastes. What is a natural taste? What is an acquired taste?

My favorite drink today is beer and vodka. Honestly, I hated both of them the first time I tried them- both tasted bitter and made me feel like puke. Of course, the after effect covered all lost ground! I guess that makes them acquired tastes.

Like most kids, I did not suck upon too many vegetables while I was growing up. But today my favorite food is a simple karela (bitter guard) and a rice plate. Does that make it an acquired taste? Or is it a natural taste?

I do not naturally like 'non-veg'. My taste buds say that meat of any kind (fish, birds or mammals) tastes like rubber at worst; and badly cooked paneer at best. As expected, my meat lover friends tell me that my taste sucks, I 'eat to live' and I need to go get a life. The friends may be correct is thinking that.

I have found that perhaps the best way to describe a great meat dish (having read trillions of food reviews), remains the same- the Kebab 'melts in the mouth'. I think red meat, by the very essence of it, is not supposed to melt in the mouth' unless it is treated properly with a hell lot of spices, marinated in vinegar or fried in truckloads of oil. In other words, unless it has not been 'veterinarianised' properly. But that is my own little theory.

Before it starts sounding like a pro-vegetarian activist post, let me hasten to add that those are my own personal remarks. By the way, I really loved that smoked salmon (thanks sunshine!) and I can trade it with a hundred aalu parathas.

The guy I mentioned in the beginning of the post- that 'beef and booze' guy said, "I think all possible food- except for those 'sweetish ones' that kids naturally like- are acquired tastes." I tend to agree with him, but at the same time, I don't really know.

Sahiti Bharadwaj's excellent post about types of foods and healthy eating prompted me to post this.  And here I am, talking about quite the opposite stuff- overeating!

I wish to talk about the fabulous tradition of gluttony in our cultures. If I remember correctly, even Jaya Raj posted something on this subject a few months back.

Most of our rural landscape (why, urban too!) has had stories of big-eaters, gluttons and the likes. Here are a few tit-bits on this, folk legends from the hinterland; the two regions in the country I am most familiar with- the Hindi heartland and Bengal.

Traditionally these regions have had some big eaters who were sort of local heroes. The village gluttons!

These people used to be in high demand because it was considered to be matter of pride to invite such people to weddings. It was a kind of a show off to the girl's side that the boy's side is well off and well fed.

I think in Bengal they even have a word for these gluttons, 'Khaiye'. KB or Indigo Iris will correct me, if I am wrong.

One such character I met claimed to regularly consume ' "Ek tin moori, aloor chop mekhe, aar 3 bhaar rashogolla!" ("A tin of puffed rice (5 Kgs), with mashed potato chops and a few Kgs of Rasogullas!")

Of course, some of the pundits of Mathura and Banaras are famous for their appetite for poori-sabzi and laddoos.

One such big-eater in our village, Achaibar Pandit who is around 75 years old now and lives a very active life, consumes untold quantities of food.

Last time I met him, I enquired about his 'health'. He said "Ab nahi hota babua. Buddhe ho gaye hain hum. Bas 70-75 poori and ek kadhai tarkari." ("I can't eat much now, son. I am old. Only 70-75 pooris and one kadhai full of vegetables"). Only!

Point to be noted. He works very hard, I mean physical labour. That keeps him lean, mean and damn hungry at that ripe old age of 75! Incidentally, 75 is the age by when most of us would have already packed off!

The gem comes from the baap of all gluttons in our village- Dunlop Singh. No one knows why his parents named him that.

Local legend has it that he was asked to behave decently at his own wedding and eat less. He said that it is impossible for him to control his appetite but he gave a hint to one the guys who would be serving food the bridegroom.

He had a knack for composing instant verse, a la KB. Specifying the number of pooris he would have, he said:

Char chaukari chaar baar

Das ek baar, das ek baar

Jab hum bole "naahi naahi"

Tab tum dena "gaahi gaahi"

Jab hum bole "Kya mardwa, gaye ho bauraye"

Dus bees aur dena bahaaye

A purely functional translation is:

Four into four, four times (4 x 4 x 4 = 64)

A tenner once and a tenner once (10 + 10)

When I say "no no"

Give me two more scores (gaahi = 20) (20 + 20)

When I say, "Are you crazy?"

Well, throw ten or twenty more (20)

How many pooris does that add up to? Considering the fact he was the groom and was expected to 'behave'. Quite a wedding meal, eh!

PS: I would be glad to know if you have similar facts to share from other regions.

PPS: And yes, you need to really move your butt big time to digest all that. Sadly, 'moving the butt' is something we city dwellers don't indulge in these days. Till then, let VLCC rock!

There are three basic ways of cooking. Okay, make that four. They are:

• Boiling
• Frying
• Roasting
• Steaming

In a loose sense, steaming and smoking could be put under the same category. Going by the same warped-up logic, 'fry' or 'sauté' are again more or less the same stuff- depending on how many calories you like to count.

The point of this post is something to do with cooking food by steaming it.

The process of steaming itself is quite simple; it can also be made to sound like one big Rocket Science if you like. This is true for cooking in general. I think cooking is one of the easiest things to do, but that's only me. I know it is Rocket Science to many.

Quite a few nifty gadgets are available which are used for steaming. They all operate on the same principle: suspending food in a perforated container over the hot steam produced by boiling water. Most of the normal medium sized cooking utensils could be used for steaming, if you have the mechanism of suspending the foodstuff above boiling water and let the steam cook it.

A lot of our regional cuisine uses this process liberally. Steamed Sino-Tibetan Momos provide a stiff competition to Chaat-Tikki-Bhalle-Papri when it comes to street food. Bongs use the process of steaming to make a wonderful sweet dish ' peethe. Now, I don't have too much of a sweet tooth so I often prefer the bland stuff, one such dish is the little known farra.

Here I share a recipe which is quite popular in Rural Northern India- Farra. Interestingly, I have never had it in any city home. It is more of a rural dish, it seems.

I will not be able to provide you the exact measurements and quantities; I guess a bit of common sense would need to be applied here. Incidentally, the 250 gm, and 370 gm measurements that the recipe writers write often leaves me confused. Do kitchens have weighing scales? The rough ‘pinch wise’ measurements here would suffice for four people, I guess. Here’s the recipe.

Ingredients

• Rice Flour
• Dhuli Urad dal (de-husked seeds of the Urd lentil, urd bean, whatever. De-husked Moong dal can also be optionally used here.)
• Haldi (turmeric)
• A pinch of black pepper powder
• A pinch of Heeng (Asafoetida)
• Jeera (Cumin seeds)
• Mustard Oil ' 2-3 tea spoons
• Salt to taste

Process:

• Soak the lentils overnight. Grind it into a rough paste (not too fine, not too coarse).
• Mix salt, black pepper, Haldi, hing. Jeera thoroughly with the dal paste.
• Heat mustard oil in a frying pan and fry the mix for 4-5 minutes, till light brown.
• Knead the rice flour into a soft dough.
• Flatten the dough like small poories.
• Make small baskets of the dough and stuff them with the lentil paste.
• Make it into elliptical balls, sticking the ends of the dough using water as the glue.
• Steam for 8-10 minute, turning occasionally till evenly cooked.
• Serve hot with chutney.

The farra can also be preserved for a couple of days. It can be fried or heated and be used as a snack.


Picture shows Momos, not farras, but they look somewhat similar.

Most Sunday mornings begin the same way. I go to the neighbouring Sabzi mandi (wholesale market) and buy vegetables for the entire week. You see, I am quite a domesticated dude.

I am lucky enough to live quite close to a Sabzi mandi, and that makes me fairly updated with the current vegetable prices. The local cost of potatoes is 35 Rupees a dhadi (5 Kg.) these days! Impressed? I know. Thank you.

In spite of the fact that I regularly visit the sabzi mandi and I am in first name terms with most vegetable vendors; I have always been in favour of Organized Retail. In other words, I do not oppose the idea behind stores like RelianceFresh and Subhiksha. I don't even think they will destroy the poor vegetable vendors as the economic/political Left wants us to believe. Organized retail can actually be beneficial in the long run, but this is not a post about economics. This is a post about fruits and vegetables and what they mean to the Hoi Polloi.

These days, the Sharmas, Vermas, Manchandas, Nayaks and Ghoshes have found out a cooler way to shop for vegetables. Nothing wrong with that, really, I guess everyone is entitled to some cool stuff. Thanks to the brand new stores in the neighbourhood.

Last Sunday I had this brilliant idea of visiting the Reliance Fresh shop instead of the mandi. I must say I was mighty impressed to see the Great Indian Middle class shopping in style.

I made a quick tour of both the stores (RelianceFresh and Subhiksha). The experience could be summed up as:

·        Coolness quotient- high (certainly higher than the sabzi mandi)

·        Price- less than the friendly neighbourhood Sabziwala (often cheaper by a whopping Re. 1.00 per kg . Wowee!)

·        Quality- Sucks.

I noticed all dry, rotten, soggy vegetables; they probably had been kept on display for at least a week. There was no refrigeration to speak of. The leafy veggies were totally dry. In other words, the veggies at RelianceFresh were anything but fresh.

I reluctantly bought some stuff and wanted to know why these new stores want us to consume such pathetic stuff.

There was this hot looking babe sitting at the 'May I Help You' counter. I asked her in plain Hindi, "Madam ji, yeh sabziyaan sookhi kyoon hain?" (Why are these veggies dry?)

She replied, "No Sir, vegetables are not being dried here."

I figured there was no point trying to talk to her. Incidentally, I love this great Indian practice of insisting to speak in English even if one knows the local Vernacular lingo. Incorrect English certainly sounds cooler than any Desi language.

I came back home to find my tau* from my village, merrily chatting with wifey. I love it whenever he visits, like all village taus, he has an amazingly sharp wit.

I appraised him about the entire funda of organized retail and stuff. He had a look at the vegetables and told me, "Oye, tu to baawla ho gaya. Yeh ke hai?" (What is this? Have you gone nuts?)

I could see my tau was not too pleased with the quality of the veggies. He said, "Aisa chara to hamare gaon me bhaise bhi na khave!" (Even the buffaloes in our village will refuse such fodder!)

The message was loud and clear. I think I'll check out RelianceFresh again, next year, perhaps. Hope they learn a few things about logistics and refrigeration techniques by then.

Next Sunday, I am sure I'll be back to the mandi.


 * Tau = Uncle (the big bro of the dad).

A job that involves travelling around the world was something I looked forward to, as a kid. It comes with a lot of pluses and minuses but this post is not about logistics. It has to do with culture, gifts, food and all that.

Here I am - a total desi who still prefers a lota in the toilet and still has problems slurping water from 'drinking fountains', I think they should be renamed 'slurping fountains'.

This goes back sometime around last Christmas; I was in a European country at a client's office.

They were mighty pleased with our Cyber Coolie service, and decided to give some well deserved baksheesh to VT the Program Coordinator. The baksheesh was an invitation to their office Christmas Party.

Incidentally, I have proposed my bosses a hot new designation for myself ' CCC (Chief Cyber Coolie). It may sound a wee bit cooler than a Program Coordinator. Anyways, cutting the crap and moving forward

The office secretary at the Client's office quietly told me that it was customary to buy something and indulge in a gift exchange session. (Everyone brings their own gift. They collect all the gifts and make a common pool and do a random distribution.)  She was kind enough to tell me the approximate budget as well. I went to the market and bought a crystal vase that caught my fancy.

At their office Christmas Party, organized in an up market restaurant, everyone sat around gleefully and the party went on as expected. Overall - good fun. Gifts were distributed and everyone said wide grinned good byes to everyone else.

I came back to the hotel room and was curious to have a look at the gift I got. It was heavy. I unpacked it quickly and had a look at the content and was totally confused. 'What the holy shit is this?'

It was a very curious looking contraption made of a ceramic like material. Two bowls. One on top of the other one and a cave like hole in the lower bowl. A few tiny forks, two small candles too. Wow.

'Whatever this is supposed to be! Is this some kind of prank? No it couldn't be. The gifts were all mixed up and it was more like a lottery. It means it is something of some use to someone, I'm sure.'

'Looks like something high funda too fandu for my understanding.' I thought and had a look at the label; it said this cockpit contraption was supposed to be a 'Fondue Set'. See? I was not too far off the mark I had thought it was something fandu and it indeed was Fondue. Well, at least they rhyme - Fandu and Fondue.

Next question. What to do with this Fondue Set? I called up wifey, my in-house gadget guru. "Honey, do you know what a 'Fondue Set' is?" Even she had no clue and simply said "I think a Fondue is some kind of a dish. No more info."

I simple google search revealed to me that the contraption I got was indeed a kind of a food-warmer which would be used to melt chocolates and keep something called a Fondue warm. Fondue is supposed to be flavoured version of melted chocolate.

Now, I don't care too much for chocolates anyways, and I made no further enquiries to google.

Now the Fondue Set has been shoved in some divan in my house and I am waiting for a really 'cultured' foodie to invite me for a haute couture, caviar and champagne type dinner. And that is a problem, because only the hoi polloi and the riff-raff invite me to their sickening rum and Kurkure parties.

That's right. I have a fandu gift ready, waiting for a suitable invitation.

I always thought Vegetable Biryani was an oxymoron. It can either be vegetable or Biryani!

The only vegetarian items that somehow come close the meat in taste and texture are raw jackfruit, Soya bean nuggets and mushroom ' if cooked properly.

Being some kind of a weekend cook myself; I came across this ingenious recipe (Oh I love myself); which can make the strict veggies get as close as the real thing. The Jackfruit (Kathal) biryani. The secret to a great biryani is that it needs to be cooked slowly on low flame. Let me share this secret recipe here:

Ingredients

• 1 tsp cumin seeds


• 1/4 cup onions grated


• 1 tbsp coriander powder


• 1/2 tsp garam masala


• 1/2 tsp turmeric powder


• 1 tsp garlic - ginger paste


• 1/2 kg kathal (jackfruit) peeled, sliced and deep fried


• Green cardamoms 3 nos


• 1/2 tsp chilli powder or to taste


• 1 tsp green chillies chopped fine


• 1 tsp lemon juice


• 1 cup rice boiled to almost done


• 1/2 cup coriander leaves


• Yogurt ¼ cup


• 2 tbsp oil


• salt to taste.

Procedure

• Deep fry the Kathal (Jackfruit) and keep aside, wrapped in tissue paper to absorb excess fat


• Heat oil and add cumin seeds.


• Sauté and add the onions, garlic - ginger paste. Sauté till brown.


• Add Jackfruit, stir fry over low heat till done.


• Add coriander powder, garam masala, haldi (turmeric), salt, chilli powder, cardamoms and green chillies. Add yogurt and let it simmer.


• Cook, covered for about 5-7 minutes and mix in the lemon juice and half the coriander. The water should be absorbed by now.


• Remove half the vegetables and layer with half the rice. Cover with the rest of the vegetable mixture and the rice again.


• Leave over low heat, covered for 10 minutes or so and serve garnished with the coriander and fried onion rings.

Official dinner with Clients. We enter an up market Japanese Restaurant in Singapore; one such dinner starts to take shape. Everyone tries to be friendly, cool, relaxed.

The office PR colleague takes center stage.

Now, the PR lady is not bad. She is rather nice. A bit stern and way too sophisticated. Waaay toooo sophisticated, if you know what I mean. It kills me, really.

I want to drink beer. She is not impressed. She whispers; “Don’t be silly. This is a place for fine dining. Why don’t you try some red or white wine; for a change?”

Duh! Fine Dining. Japanese fine dining? Well, that means - no red, green, blue plates. No plastic glasses. No real booze. Courses after courses of godforsaken variety of fish and sushi to be messed up with Chopsticks! yippee I am so excited!

Moving forward. I ask the waitress for fork and knife; can’t handle chopsticks. The office PR lady tries to give me those looks again. I choose to ignore.

Two hours gone, Dinner over. I do manage to come out alive.

I ask everyone, “Why don’t we go to this nice pub I know, right at the end of the street for some serious drinking and partying?”

Three hours of ha ha he he ho ho, at the pub - we all are friends now! Half the price; double the fun.

Looks like the project is going to come up really well.