Tagged: side dish

My aaji’s (grandma’s) Semolina fried prawns

“Why do they get to have so many when we have so few?”

“Because they don’t eat the paplet (pomfret), raja.

“It’s not our fault they don’t eat fish. Why are we being punished? We like the kolumbi (prawns) too”

“Next time, I will ask for many, many more to be bought from the market. Then you can have all that and the fish. Chala putano, jeva aata. (Come my dears, eat your food now.)”

Pick any weekend when there was a fish dinner at grandma’s and you could count on this conversation replaying like a broken record. My cousin Pags and I always knew that we had a sweet deal. His sister and mine knew that that nothing would change, the same thing would happen the next time. Yet one of them always complained of the unfairness of it all. It was almost ritualistic, their complaints, my grandma’s cajoling, Parag and I eating up quick before anyone had a chance to change their mind, the post-dinner grumbling.

I still cannot eat fried prawns without thinking of that time.
Continue reading

Annie Somerville’s spicy corn with tomatoes, chilli and cilantro

Did not mean to stay away for long but time has really zoomed on by here, what with all the packing, moving and unpacking I’ve been doing since I last checked in with you. This moving thing, it really is as annoying, niggling and downright disruptive as others say it is.

You may wonder how I didn’t know this before. Surely, you might think, a girl who had to move all the way over here from a whole other country must have encountered this before. To answer that; not really. I moved to this country carrying my life in three large suitcases. The one soul-splitting decision I had to make then was which books to bring along. I dealt with that by avoiding the decision and bringing all of them over; that I had to leave most of my clothes behind to do this, is another story. The only other time I moved was from grad school in Texas to San Francisco. In two years, the glorious salary of a grad assistant hadn’t gone very far in adding to my original possessions. I tackled with this move by allowing the postal service to do the heayy lifting, first shipping off said previous possessions to my sister and once I got a job in San Francisco, to Amey, who was already here. I found an apartment and moved possessions into it. Then I just stayed put, adding a few odds and ends to the tally – mostly other books.

It wasn’t planned to be that way. We were supposed to move when we got married. My limerick-sized apartment with its haiku-sized kitchen was barely enough for one. It fairly exploded when Amey moved his things into it. We assured each other this would only be temporary, while we found a larger apartment that we liked, but time had its way with us. Before we knew it, we’d celebrated four anniversaries in that apartment.

So here we were seven years since I originally moved into the place, finally working on moving out. Up to that point we’d been congratulating ourselves on how well we’d managed to live, not buying more than would fit into the place. recycling stuff, purging before buying. Based on this and my previous moving experience, I’d thought this move would hardly be more irksome than before. Turns out, I couldn’t have been more wrong if I’d paired canary yellow shoes with a shocking pink outfit. Or put bacon in my chocolate. *shudder*

Patient reader, this move has drained us to the very core. The act of trying to pack up the contents of a small apartment while still living having to live in it is as aggravating as trying to put seven terriers in a Mini Cooper. They will all get in eventually but they will then proceed to make a nuisance of themselves and get in your way every time you need to do something essential, like grab a tissue for your nose, which is running freely from all of the dust you’ve been kicking up. There were boxes of all sizes at every turn. We stacked and sidled, but there was no way around it. Going to work was sweet joyful relief, despite the crazy deadlines we were facing that month. For a while, all you had to do was walk up to Amey and say ‘packing’ and he would glower and start hurling invective like a wet dog shaking off water. All this and we were only at packing.

We managed to move in somewhat one piece, something that sadly cannot be said of several of my ceramic dinner plates. This move involved quite literally blood, sweat and tears. In my typical clumsy fashion, I’ve cut, scratched and bruised myself in every imaginable fashion as I’m wont to do in any situation that requires physical movement on my part. As you can imagine, there hasn’t been much time to really cook anything new, mostly stuff that was quick and ready in as little time as possible. That was on days that we could cook, there weren’t many. Most days we were just grateful for the concept of takeout.

Before we moved from our old apartment; the one that managed to be aggravating yet wonderful at the same time, I had cooked this as my last post from there. I never got to it while I was there but here it is now. There is corn to be had and while it’s still around I urge you to try this side dish that could very easily be a whole meal. It was for us. It will not take up too much of your time. You redeem some ears of corn of their kernels, cut a scallion or two and dice up some jalapeno. Shake everything into a pan with some oil and cayenne pepper. Then you take it off the heat and shower a cupful of ruby red cherry tomato halves into it. A dash of vinegar, some lime juice, a sprinkle of cilantro…voila! That’s all there is to a light dish that makes your stress disappear, be it from a day at the office or wrestling with prodigious quantities of duct tape.

Spicy corn with Tomatoes, Chilli & Cilantro
adapted from Annie Sommerville’s Field of Greens
Serves 2-3 as a salad and 4-6 as a side

Corn kernels – 4 ears or 2 cups
Jalapenos – 4, de-seeded and diced or slivered
Champagne vinegar- 1 tbsp
Lime juice – 1 lime
Scallions – 2, white and green bits, sliced thin
Cayenne pepper – a couple of pinches
Cherry tomatoes – 1 cup
Cilantro – a couple of sprigs, finely chopped
Olive Oil – 1 tbsp
Salt and pepper to taste

– Heat the oil in a pan on medium low heat until it shimmers, then add the corn, jalapeno and scallions.
– Add the salt and cayenne and give the contents of the pan a good stir. Let heat for 8 – 10 minutes.
– Add the vinegar and lime juice and toss the veggies in it. Move the dish off the heat immediately.
– Pour the contents of the pan into a bowl then add the cherry tomatoes and cilantro while the corn is still warm. Mix to incorporate.

Makes a great side dish or accompaniment for chicken, rice or any number of things. Makes a great salad with some crusty bread thrown in and oh, it is a quick and fabulous Cinco de Mayo side! Though you may need to thaw some frozen kernels then. 

Cook’s notes:

The rules contained in this recipe are more like guidelines. You cannot go wrong here no matter how you change up the steps. Throw the tomatoes into the pan with the corn for example, or toss the lime juice and vinegar in once off the heat (actually this is what the recipe instructs. I always forget to and throw them in the pan – no problem.) It makes little difference to the general make-up of the dish. Add as much or as little jalapeno as you want. Personally, a de-seeded jalapeno tastes like bell pepper to me, so I use 4. I like the soft crunch it brings to the party.The cayenne pepper will help you turn the heat up or down so use according to taste.

The sweetness of the corn mingles so well with the acid and heat of the other ingredients to create a dish that is quite gratifying. We had this as a salad with some crusty Ikea cardamom toast and tea. San Francisco was cold and foggy that day but the sun broke through the fog just as we sat down to eat. I’m sure the meteorologists have an explanation. I prefer to think it was the power of suggestion from this simple meal.

Citrus & Beet Salad with mixed greens

I was once told that you start at the beginning, continue to the end, then stop. Then you do the same with the next task. This is how things get done. Wise words, when it comes to writing, but hard to do. Especially when this bright and lovely thing that I’m sharing with you today doesn’t start at its beginning but at the beginning of my week.

It seems that griping¬†about past weather did the trick, because what a glorious week we’ve had weather-wise. Personally, it could have been one out of those old silent era comic movies. Someone having a bad week would have been considerably cheered up with a glimpse into mine. Talk about comic relief.

An unusual bout of insomnia has me falling asleep too late and waking up too early for a couple of weeks now. Last week, this offered me the opportunity to get into more trouble than I normally do, which aiming to please, I did. On Monday morning, I woke up at five, decided to make dinner for the evening while trying to call my cousin in New Zealand. I’m probably the only person in the history of dinner who burnt it at six a.m.

Tuesday, I almost got run over. Not the driver’s fault; no one should be looking at the sky and thinking about Rottweilers and Retrievers when she’s crossing the street. Wednesday is a bit of a blur in my head. There’s a good chance I might have told someone that he sucked. Also, I missed a perfectly good chicken and waffles dinner with friends since I was otherwise occupied with trying to kill my too-slow work computer.

I did not succeed.
Continue reading

Gourmet’s cheese and scallion drop biscuits

Let’s face it. The Bay area weather hasn’t really been up to snuff lately. What’s worse is we’re talking rainy weekends here, people. Last week was no different. We got two glorious days of sunshine that turned into a gray, rainy weekend. To add insult to injury, now as I write this on Sunday evening, the sun is out.

My pre-Monday morning blues just got bluer.

I think I love winter and gray skies way more than the average person, but it is almost a month into spring. Really weather gods, could you get with the program already? Given that this is Northern California, those May flowers are inevitable, why the April storms? We’re also probably well stocked with the Hetch Hetchy for now, what with the intense winter. How about we get a break, huh? More importantly, a weekend truce. A break from this weird “will it, won’t it?” pro-con game you’ve got us playing. Because frankly, it’s getting on my nerves.

Yesterday, it rained when I was inside and stopped when I came out. The black clouds though, hovered with this pervading sense of threat. When you’re juggling a few odds-and-ends up certain hills, without any actual rain but with an umbrella that keeps knocking you in the shins every second step, all you want to do is hurl it at the sky in your very own Jay & Silent Bob “Damn yous all to hell” moment. Yet not carrying such protection leaves you at the mercy of the contrary elements, which you cannot risk. So there you are, feeling a complete fool for trying to be prepared. Not to mention feeling the pain in those very sore shins.

That same unreal pro-con feeling seeped through most of my weekend. On the pro side, I finally made it back to Omnivore Books as I’ve meaning to since my last trip. On the con side, I forgot to check updates and walked into a shop where Alice Waters sat signing copies of her books. Yes, I love getting my books signed. No, I did not have my copy of The Art of Simple Food. I couldn’t even make eye contact with the author, talk about a completely absurd sense of guilt! Omnivore Books is intimate enough that it is not easy to browse all the shelves when there’s a book signing set up. So with a quick perusal, we turned to head out.
Continue reading

Gourmet’s Hummus and Tzatziki

It is an inevitable truth that everything that has a beginning has an end. Some enjoy heights of success, only to falter and fade away, then fall into oblivion to disappear with nary a blip. Others are lamented in their eventual passing. Then there are those whose demise brings on waves of despair, shouts of protest, flowing tributes in homage. “How can it be true?” you hear people shout! “Where are we to turn?” they ponder in sadness. These are the lucky few. Their demise sends shockwaves among their supporters. They live amongst their fans forever.

This is what happened with the closure of Gourmet magazine. Witnessing the shock and despair of its legions of fans at Conde Nast’s decision to shut down this matriarch of the published food world, I have to admit I didn’t quite get it right away. I revere books; I’ve never been much of a magazine lover, the only ones I ever subscribed to were the Architectural Review, Readers’ Digest and Archie comics (yes, the 12 year old in me never quite grew up). The hue and cry baffled me. Surely this was just a magazine meeting an untimely demise at the hands of business people? Given the tough economy so many things have gone a similar way. Cookbooks are still around, so how bad could it be?

Continue reading