A Syrup to Hail Summer…and the Strawberry Fields!
…Living is easy with eyes closed, misunderstanding all you see
It’s getting hard to be someone but it all works out, it doesn’t matter much to me
Let me take you down, ‘cos I’m going to Strawberry Fields
Nothing is real, and nothing to get hungabout
Strawberry Fields forever…
-The Beatles
Summer has now officially begun- astronomically speaking- for those in the northern hemisphere: we have just passed through the longest day of the year, when the north pole is most oriented toward the sun. On the eve of the 23rd of June, the Midsummer’s Eve festivals of nearby Door County, in tandem with the lands of Scandinavia, kick off the night with bonfires, grilled food, and plenty of alcoholic drinks to wash it all down. The merry-making continues again on the 24th- Midsummer’s Day. I have never attended these myself, but I’ve heard tales…and I imagine that, since these two dates fell across the weekend this year, this pagan holiday dating from pre-christian times was especially riotous…
But I celebrated in my own way: on Saturday I went strawberry-picking, with a good friend and my mother, at a local “pick-your-own” strawberry farm. (We also scavenged their nearby asparagus-field for any last remaining stalks. I know we’ve heard enough about that vegetable, but it is so much better than what is available in the supermarkets, and it’s season is so short…so, those without access, please forgive my enthusiasm)
The field director… a nice woman who keeps track of the picked rows with a flag-system.
Diligent strawberry-enthusiasts at work…
The plant flowers and produces the berries right next to the ground; straw keeps the berries from touching the damp soil and decomposing, which they do quite quickly after reaching their prime. (Wild strawberries also grow in Wisconsin, and though more difficult to pick, I have had the pleasure…)
Only that darker-red one in the center would be picked now- though it would best after another day or two on the plant; the remainder ripen one-by-one; therefore the flag-system keeps a rotation going until the season ends…
Our final cache about to be tallied by one of the sons: just under 25 lbs. Enough to have a few now and the rest preserved for special treats throughout the coming year…
I admit, though, that I am quite fond of strawberries, as if you hadn’t guessed… and to kneel on the ground to search the plants for the low-growing fruit, is small consequence for the reward: beautifully ripe, sweet berries with just a hint of tartness left in them at their peak. Already there are plans for jam and strawberry short-cake, but, this year, I’d like to try something new with a few of them: a strawberry syrup with which to make cool sodas for the hot days ahead, to drizzle over ice-cream, pancakes or waffles…or to flavour coffee drinks or even hot cocoa when cool nights eventually return. And I suppose alcoholic refreshments could be [clears throat] uh…concocted with it as well…
So, that’s what I did…
Strawberry Syrup
(with by-products of seedy pulp and a thick puree)
5 C fresh strawberry puree (rinse well, remove calyx, puree in a blender or food-processor or pass through a coarse sieve)
2 C water
1 3/4 C sugar (more if you like it sweeter; I don’t)
pinch of salt
pinch of citric acid
1)Place the puree, water and sugar in a saucepan and, over low heat, slowly bring to boil. Stir, lower heat and maintain a gentle simmer for 30-40 minutes, stirring occasionally. Turn off heat, cover and allow to cool until warm.
2)Pass this mixture through a fine wire sieve into another pan; this will remove the seeds and some of the pulp: you will have about 1/2 C of fiber-rich, sweet solids remaining in the sieve. This can be chilled and eaten by small spoonfuls…I thought of making a halvah with sooji rava, but… I didn’t.
3)Now, take the strained mixture and return it to the stove; again, bring it slowly to a boil, then remove from heat. Pour this hot mixture through a triple-layer of cheesecloth (I lined a large colander with the cheesecloth set over another pan). Allow this to drip through for about 4 hours. Give the contents in the upper chamber a stir and allow it to drip for another hour. At this point you should have about 1 1/2 C of thick puree that will no longer offer any liquid. This seedless, thick puree can be used for flavouring a cheesecake, making strawberry ice-cream, used as a dessert-sauce, halvah-making, etc… (I promptly froze it)
4)To the potent syrup now twice-filtered- you should have a little over 4 C- add the salt and citric acid. Store in the refrigerator.
5)To compose a strawberry soda, place a small amount in a glass; fill with carbonated water and ice-cubes. How shall I compare thee to a summer’s day!
I’d like to thank these two lovely people for such a nice time… 
; behind them is the over-blown asparagus-field that we attacked next! We found enough for a few last dishes of the season- then it’s farewell to the beloved spears until next spring…
Lithuanian Summer Borscht
If you are fond of beets, you are in for a treat; if not, you may well be converted by this simple, summertime recipe. Of course, you probably won’t give it a whirl if you don’t like beets, therefore, pass this recipe on to someone who does! Then, if you’re feeling brave, you can take a spoonful…
I was one such person long ago…well, not that long ago I suppose…When I was in my early twenties I worked in a nursing home. Air-conditioning? Just near the nurse’s station at the centers of the long corridors. It was hardly noticeable at either end or in the rooms, where I did most of my work, and not at all in the basement, where the employee lounge was located. That was where a good friend and I would try to meet for lunch; you see, we both had the habit of bringing food with us (as opposed to the “snackers” who raided the vending machines), and, since we both had an inbuilt natural curiosity, seeing what the other had brought was a matter of course! And one warm summer day during our lunch-break, she talked me into a spoonful of this fuchsia-coloured stuff.
My friend was taken in, as a child, by foster parents, who happened to be Lithuanian. She was very proud of this fact, partly, I am sure, by the sheer exoticness of it all, but mostly, I think, because they were very kind people who cared very much for her, and that stability and unconditional love helped her become the person she is today: a registered nurse living in Austin, Texas…kind, caring, mature, self-confident, and still enthralled with life.
Unless she’s now dead; honestly I haven’t heard from her in quite a few years, nor she from me! Somewhere, sometime, between all the moves we have both made in our lives since those naive years, we lost track of each other. Perhaps someday fate will bring us together again for a quick “catching up” over something potable. Perhaps not.
The good news is that I managed to pry 3 recipes, this among them, from her and her recipe-hoarding foster-mom. [evil laugh] You see, her “mother” (perhaps I shouldn’t use the quote marks because this kind woman was everything a good mother could be) was quite old-fashioned in an Old-World way: most protective of her family’s gastronomic secrets. She had a thick, fascinating accent when speaking English, still…her use of it was good enough to politely evade my several requests for this and other recipes… until, finally, as the time drew closer to her daughter moving away for an irresistable job-offer, she loosened…just a bit.
Such a simple recipe too, to cause all this mischief! But, when you consider that it is delicious enough to convert a staunch beet-hater into a beet-worshipper, it’s simplicity becomes a part of its charm; simple, that is, in its original avatar. By now, if you know me even somewhat, you will note that I enjoy tinkering a bit. And tinker I have indeed with this little gem from the Baltic sea-coast. I present to you a soup to catch the eye, cool the body and soothe the mind- both my version and the original (er…..I think….[always wonders] ) for you to play with as well…
You might notice how very much it resembles an Indian raitha…
You might want me to stop babbling and just get on with it…
You might be right!
Lithuanian Summer Borscht- original as it was dictated to me
Take about equal parts of cooked, shredded beets, chopped cucumbers and sour cream. Mix these well, then add a good amount of fresh, minced dill and a few grinds of black pepper. Thin it with buttermilk (I don’t think she meant true buttermilk- rather the thinned yoghurt available and sold here labeled as “buttermilk”) to a soup-like consistency and salt it to taste. Refrigerate it for at least a few hours, but preferably for a day to allow the flavours to blend. Serve chilled, of course, with crusty home-made bread. (Can we say rye?) And… (I recently learned this) boiled or fried potatoes….also, traditionally this soup is decorated with slices of hard-boiled eggs (I am rarely in the mood for these, so I’m afraid, pretty as they would be, they do not grace my photo).
Lithuanian Summer Borscht- the Pel variation
1 1/2-2 lbs of fresh beets
2 lg cucumbers
1 C green onions- green part only, sliced into 1/4-1/8″ rounds
1 fresh hot green chile- such as serrano, seeded and minced very finely- like 1 mm dice
3-4 T fresh, minced dill-weed (not the flowers or tough stems)
several grinds of black pepper
3 C whole-milk yoghurt (or a mix of real sour cream and yoghurt, or low or non-fat yoghurt- whatever spins your wheels)
salt to taste
See? Nothing terribly foreign to the Lithuanian taste-buds…and I am sure that, besides having a few “chile-heads” there, it is probable that there are many in search of a lighter version of this recipe- hence my use of yoghurt in place of sour cream…but, the two can be mixed if you like; I sometimes do this.
1)Wash and trim both the stem-end and root-end of each beet, place in a saucepan and cover with enough water to be an inch or so above the beets. Bring to boil, lower to simmer and cook for 45 minutes- 1 hour until tender. Allow to cool in the cooking liquid.
2)Remove each beet and slip the skins off- they should slide off quite easily; discard the peels, but retain the cooking liquid; place the skinned beets in a separate dish. Allow the cooking liquid to sit undisturbed while you complete the next steps. (obsessive me will often strain this through a fine sieve into another bowl, but I didn’t want to admit that- ooops, I just did!)
3)Into a large mixing bowl, shred the beets using a medium-cut shredder (if too fine, they tend to form clumps I’ve found). You should have 2 1/2-3 C or so…
4)Peel the cucumbers (if using small, young cucumbers there is no need to peel) slice each in half lengthwise and scoop out the seeds.* Slice each hollow half into 1/3″ strips lengthwise, and then across into 1/3″ cubes. Again, aim for about 2 1/2-3 C… Add these to the bowl.
5)Add the sliced green onions, minced chile, minced dill and black pepper to the bowl. Add the yoghurt and/or sour cream and mix very well.
6)Thin the soup by carefully decanting the reserved beet-cooking liquid into the mixture until a desired consistency is reached. (Any missed dirt will sink to the bottom, so don’t use the final dregs of the bowl. If you’d like it thinner yet, use water or American “buttermilk”)
7)Here’s the part that your real skills as a cook are on display: salt this soup to taste. Try not to overdo it: add salt little by little and mix very well before adding more. Salting a cold mixture is tricky, because it doesn’t dissolve as quickly as adding salt to a hot liquid- therefore, it is very easy to over-salt- what tastes fine now can turn to saline-unpleasantness in 30 minutes. Thin it with more liquid if this happens. Those of you adept at raitha-making already know what I’m talking about.
8)Chill for at least 4 hours, but preferably for a day to allow the flavours to meld. Serve with bread, toast, a sandwich, as a first course for a light summer meal or as a snack to cool you off. Offer some to your neighbor with the all-white rooms and act drunk as you step inside the door, clumsily offering a bowlful. Hours of fun! [winks]
*Oh yeah, the cucumber seeds…why chuck ‘em? They’re perfectly fine and delicious, but they tend to cause faster spoilage in cold soups… So…here are a few things I do with them: break the pulpy chunks into bite-size pieces and place in a bowl…then either 1)season them with salt and pepper 2)season them with Thai fish sauce, lime juice, and a sprinkling of ground chiles 3)season them with Indian chat masala and lime juice 4)make of them a paste, and smear it on your face- or other body-parts- as a cooling moisturizer! (rinse it off before you go somewhere, unless you need a new look)
And one more little tidbit for those of you who enjoy reading my verbal dribble so much that you got this far: I sometimes add a stalk of finely-sliced lemon-grass to the soup as well, if I have some handy, which I often do…adds a lovely lemony note that goes quite well with the tart yoghurt! (But don’t tell any Lithuanians that I snuck in a Thai ingredient)
The year’s first visit to a local farmers’ market…Saturday, June 16, 2007
First of all, a happy Father’s Day to any and all proud sires of life’s most precious gift! Enjoy this day…
My city has a fair number of open markets- called “farmers’ markets”… one almost every day somewhere in the city. Though called farmers’ markets, being a farmer in no way is a prerequisite for selling here. Small local business, cosmopolitan home-based entrepreneurs, and “city-plot” gardeners all make an appearance here. Visiting one in full-swing is a relaxing activity; there is fresh, local produce to gaze at and sometimes wonder what to do with if unfamiliar; splendid handiwork to admire, treats to satisfy any sudden hunger urges, and people and more people as time progresses…often, I run into someone I know.
As I was a good boy and stayed home Friday night- well, I was too tired to bother with the fuss of primping honestly, and slept through the night- I arose early at 5:30am and had a little breakfast before heading out to one of the city’s largest markets: the Cherry Street Market- downtown Green Bay. It opens promptly at 6am. In the height of summer and early autumn, it is already swarming with crowds at this early hour, but now- late spring- and only the second Saturday after beginning, it was only starting to hum by the time I arrived.
Some flower-talk…
Larkspur…delphinium? Could be…
A nice table…
Nicer yet…
More anti-mango-bragging measures…
This lady makes hand-made rugs, and has been selling her loom-crafts here as long as I can remember… I believe I may have bought one a few years ago…
Heaps of onions, radishes, kohlrabi….among other things…
Dried gourds…
I love this family of gardeners; besides having gorgeous produce all season-long- and one of the largest stalls- they are so nice to chat with. They were more than happy to allow a photograph…and look at all those beets!
May I offer you some sugar? 
Chocolate-chip cookies, fruit-filled pastries, macaroons…. quite good! I admit to nothing…
As I was leaving I noticed that the crowd had definitely grown during my visit; I came away not unscathed as I had a heavy burden of white radishes, beets, mustard greens, kai lan, spearmint….what else?
Ah, yes… I couldn’t resist one of these Thai refreshments as the heat was already getting to me. It contained crushed ice, cantaloupe, tinted tapioca balls, tinted rice and bean-starch “noodles”, and…sweetened coconut milk… exactly what I needed.
Hello! I had parked near a cut-glass studio and hadn’t noticed this until I returned…. I approached for a better view…
Kind of reminds me of something…what country am I in?
I returned home right away with my new stash of goodies, and set to work sorting and cleaning… you’ll see dishes pop up soon from things I’ll be making- I hope- But here is a blurry pic of the radishes and beets with very usable greens…
Beet-greens are lovely…they intriguingly have just a tinge of bitterness- and very sweet. Radish-greens are sweet as well, with a unique aroma….who was it that posted a recipe for these? It’ll come to me…
The first round of mustard greens…saag panir can’t be far away! Now I just need some lemon-juice and milk….that cow is no help!
What are these? I have no idea… I bought them from a lady who said they were used for a mixed-green stew; I would have bought some of the other kinds included in the mix, but at $1 each, I stuck with these…and happily planted them in an empty pot: a promise of things to yet come…
Danish Almond Puff Pastry
This pastry is a very standard recipe with little variation, and can be found in many places- online and tucked away in recipe files- to be brought out and utilized for something impressive, fairly-quick and easy, a few hours before company is expected. There is nothing healthy or nutritious about it- save the nuts; it is a total, melt-in-the-mouth carbohydrate and butter fest…
When my sister and I were young, my mother would make this -once in a great while. We always loved it, but it was my mother herself who would slowly nibble her way through most of it. Though it has been a few years since she has made this (that I know of), she still has an unquenchable sweet-tooth, so I thought I would make this and set aside some just for her. She appreciated it very much! (though I am sure her waistline didn’t!)
This pastry is not made of French “puff-pastry” (pâte feuilletée) as the name would suggest(multiple layers of dough and butter)…I don’t even know if it truly is Danish in origin- it might be, but it is very common in my area of the U.S., and once in a while will show up on dessert trays of large gatherings. It is composed of three layers: 1) short-crust pastry (pate brisee), 2) choux pastry (pate a choux), and 3) butter-sugar icing or sometimes cream-cheese icing, plus almonds.
Danish Almond Puff Pastry
makes 16, 1″x 3″ pieces
1 C All-purpose flour
1/2 C unsalted butter, chilled and firm
2 T cold water
Step one: Pre-heat oven to 350 F. Cut the butter into the flour using a pastry-blender or fork, until the largest “grains” are the size of peas. Dribble the water over the surface and, using your hands, gently press the water into the flour/butter mixture (most of it will come together, but by no means knead it!). Press this gently into two long rectangles- 3″ X 12″- on an ungreased baking-sheet. You can use a knife to gently tap the sides to straighten them.
1 C water
1/2 C unsalted butter
1 t almond extract
1 C flour
3 eggs
Step two: Bring the water and butter to a boil in a small saucepan. Add the almond extract and immediately turn off the heat. Add the flour all at once and stir quickly until smooth. Add the eggs, one at a time, making sure each is well-blended until the next is added. Spread this mixture over the two short-crust rectangles. Bake for one hour- to one hour 15 minutes, until the top is golden brown. Remove from the oven and allow to cool for 2 hours or so.
2 T unsalted butter, softened- room temp
1 1/2 C confectioner’s (powdered) sugar
1 1/2 t vanilla extract
1-2 T water
2 handfuls of chopped or sliced roasted almonds
Step three: Cream the butter until fluffy. add 1/2 C of the sugar, mix well, then add remaining cup. Add the vanilla extract and enough water to make a spreadable consistency (be careful not to add too much, if you do, adjust with sugar). Spread over the top. Sprinkle with almonds and lightly press them into the surface. Allow an hour or two for the icing to set before cutting into 1″ X 3″ strips. Serve with coffee or tea.
I think it would be interesting to experiment with this recipe, not only in various flavourings- I have made a peach version (slice carefully through the choux-pastry layer and spoon in peach preserves; replace the top)- but also to incorporate whole-wheat flour somewhere for added fiber and nutrients. The butter content can’t be fooled with: these are age-old formulas to achieve definite textures. In lieu of this, it is best made for special occasions or the bulk given away to neighbors…
Asparagus haakesque
Total blasphemy! I know it. Ask me if I care. Something strange happens after you eat the Kashmiri dish known as haak for the first time. It changes your brain chemistry and makes you want more! The sad, dejected, longing look that appears on your face when the last traces are devoured in a bowl with rice, its green, vitamin-rich gravy soaking into the fluffy grains, is totally pre-conceived by those wily, saunf-and-saunth-throwing hooligans. I surrender… but this is my revenge!
Asparagus is in season now in this neck of the woods. I’m ill of the Thai green curry that resists spoiling, I can’t take another round of daalitoy at the moment (or can I?), and although I have val sitting in soaking-water, I want some green stuff now! Some days, I feel like Veruca Salt…
So, green stuff it is! Anita of A Mad Tea Party sent me a recipe for haak, which is made of a special green very similar to collard greens- same species, different variety. There is also a green used by the Chinese and Thai which is yet another similar variety -and can also be used for successful haak-making. It is called kai lan or Chinese broccoli. All are cruciferous vegetables(of the plant family cruciferae, now known as brassicaceae), and the botanical genus-and-species name of all three is brassica oleracea…this single species has been cultivated as well into cabbage, broccoli, cauliflower, brussel sprouts, kohlrabi and kale, as well as the aforementioned greens! So, as you can see, despite being descended long ago from a single plant, there is some difference between them… It took some doing to sort all of this out; I hope we have it straight.
Anita- a regal, proud, and oftentimes giddy Kashmiri Pandit- insists that mustard oil be used for this dish. I implore you to seek it out in Indian shops either under the English name or as sarson ka tel, as it is known in Hindi. Quite pungent when raw, but sweet and mellow upon heating, this is an essential flavour in this dish that, if you were to replace it with another oil and serve it to a weathered haak-eater, would bring scoffs and jeers while your back was turned, but its inclusion will undoubtedly bring them back to your table.
While a pressure-cooker is often used for preparing haak (it saves both time and energy, so why not? Anita pressure-cooks haak for exactly 5 minutes, then immediately releases the pressure- a secret step to keeping the greens green), I cooked this blasphemous version (do I hear noses turning upward?) the old-fashioned, open-kettle way with slow simmering, because I wasn’t sure of the timing and didn’t want to overcook my beloved asparagus (which incidentally, is not anywhere near a close relative of brassica oleracea). Hing/asafoetida is an optional ingredient that non-Kashmiri Madhur Jaffrey uses, but Anita doesn’t. I leave its use up to you.
One more thing: after heating the oil- 2t to 1/2 C- health-level to swoon-level (and sizzling a good pinch of hing), Mrs. Jaffrey adds the greens (1 3/4 lb), covers the pot for 10 seconds, then adds the salt and stir-fries for a minute before adding the water(3 1/2 C) and a few chiles- both green and red. Anita adds the water(2 C) directly to the smoking oil, brings to a boil and adds a pinch of sodium bicarbonate (retains the green colour, but I hear it annihilates a few vitamins), then she adds the greens(1 1/2 lb), cooks them just until they wilt, adds both green and red chiles and some salt, and then … both are in agreement- continuing with the braising until tender. Because Madhur uses a bit more water than Anita, any excess must be boiled off rapidly when the vegetable is tender to reduce it to about 3/4 C or so… Anita’s method is a bit more stream-lined, as it has exactly the right amount of liquid at the end, but then again, she uses a pressure-cooker.
Serve with yoghurt and steamed rice, a flush and a gush and now you’re hooked- er… haaked- too! There is no more to say.
Oh, yes there is!…. If you decide to try the rebel asparagus version, it cooks in 15 minutes at a simmer. Quite done in fact. Lift it out of the pan and place it somewhere gently, then reduce the liquid and re-unite them. Total yum…
Here is some purple asparagus for fun and anti-mango measures………….en guarde you mango-braggarts!:
Chocolate shrikhand, almond pooris, and an answer to the baffling battiness…
Some of my food-blogging friends and I have had discussions of yoghurt-cheeses and their appearance in several cuisines, including America’s- where cream cheese/Philadelphia cheese and “neufchatel” (though this does not resemble the true French cheese of the same name) are made in a very similar way… It is delectable when paired with fruit- there is no debate of that- but the “chocoholic” in me is continually searching for new ways to express itself, and I am certain that in no way could I be the first to dream up this concoction…
Chocolate, as a bitter drink, was well-known and used by the Aztecs back to antiquity, as was vanilla. The conquering Spaniards combined this with their passion for cinnamon-flavoured sweets (an assertion of the Moorish influence and Arab trade with India) and milk. It is not difficult to see how Mexican-style chocolate was born, and indeed, all other chocolate confections “born” afterward…
In this recipe, I have combined chocolate with a touch of vanilla, and the familiar combination of cardamom and cinnamon- prevalent in Indian coffee and tea preparations- with the milk-become-yoghurt-become-chatta sweet known as shrikhand in Gujju and Marathi -cinnamon being the tie that binds the hands across the world to create this delectable fusion. Mexican drinking chocolate often contains ground almonds as well, so… an appropriate accompaniment, to my mind, had to be freshly-fried almond pooris; I make a final bow to shrikhand’s origin by gracing the chocolate shrikhand with roasted chiroli-nuts…
Resist if you must!
I extend a big thank you to Madhuli of My Foodcourt for her assistance in helping me name the chocolate shrikhand.
Chocolate Shrikhand with Almond Pooris
Chocolate Shrikhand
(4 servings)
4 C yoghurt (I used homemade 3%, but any richness may be used)
1/3 C sugar, more or less to taste (I used raw cane/ turbinado)
1 oz bittersweet chocolate
1/4 t ground true/Ceylon/soft cinnamon
the seeds of two cardamom pods, ground
1/2 t pure vanilla extract
1 T chiroli-nuts
1)Tie the yoghurt in a double-thickness of cheesecloth and suspend it somewhere, with a bowl underneath, to drain most of the whey for at least 3 hours; some, like me, prefer the texture be a little thicker and therefore let it hang longer 5, 8, 10 hours… I leave it up to you. This plain cheese is called chakka.
2)Empty the contents into a bowl, and add the sugar, mixing well. Allow it to stand for an hour or more to dissolve the sugar, then pass this mixture through a wire sieve for maximum smoothness.
3)Melt the chocolate in a small, metal dish over hot water, or use the microwave (keep a close eye on it to avoid scorching). Take a spoonful of the sweet-chakka and mix it with the chocolate, add this to the bowl. Take another spoonful and mix it with any chocolate that still clings and again add. Mix the chocolate with the sweet-chakka thoroughly. Taste for sweetness and adjust if necessary.
4)Add the final flavouring of ground spices and vanilla; combine well.
5)Chill this mixture well for at least an hour to allow the flavour of the spices to marry with the others.
6)Heat a little ghee/oil in a small pan and fry, stirring continuously, the chiroli, until lightly roasted (mine are a bit too dark) and fragrant. Remove to a cloth or paper towel to absorb excess oil and cool.
7)Serve the chocolate shrikhand in small bowls, sprinkled with chiroli, and freshly-made almond pooris (below) on the side.
Almond Pooris
2/3 C Ata (Indian whole-wheat flour) plus more for dusting
1/3 C ground raw almonds
tiny pinch of salt
water
oil for deep-frying
1)Mix the flour, almond-meal, and salt together well, then add enough enough water to form a soft, yet workable dough. Knead for 10 minutes, replace it to the bowl and cover with a damp towel to rest for an hour or so. (or place in a plastic bag)
2)Heat the oil over a medium-low flame. Divide the dough into into 8 equal portions, and taking each, roll into an ball and flatten into a patty, with your hand, onto a floured board. Sprinkle some more flour over the top and roll thinly into a 5″ round. Set each on a plate, overlapping the next, and keep covered with a damp dish-towel. Take each poori and gently set it on the surface of the hot oil (hold it with both hands loosely and rest the center, then release the sides. (if it sinks, the oil is not hot enough). Fry for a second or two, and using a pair of tongs or other utensil, push the edges gently under the oil until the top surface changes colour; it should puff up. Turn to the other side, fry until golden, turn back to the other side for a few seconds. Lift out the poori and place in a cloth or paper-lined bowl, leaning against the side to allow excess oil to drain and cover with a lid. Serve immediately.
Makes 8
NOTE: An Umrikan acquaintance just tasted this; although the pooris are now stale and should have been re-fried, still, she didn’t find it sweet enough…..so perhaps you may add more sugar than I did to the shrikhand, or shake sugar over the pooris as they come out of the oil…..I found the light sweetness quite refreshing however…and the whole crispy-soft combo addictive. Anyone who makes this, feel free to give me your input…
And what about those black, bat-like creatures? A nut! Known in Hindi as singhara, in Bengali as paniphal, in Sinhalese as ikiliya, in Chinese as ling or ling jiao, in German as singharanuss, in French as chataigne d’eau a deux cornes, in Japanese as hishi or tou bishi, in Nepalese as singadaa, and in English as water caltrop, bull-nut or singhara-nut; the latin botanical name is trapa bicornis, although other species of the genus are similar and are also known by these names. Hard to believe it’s vegetable eh? Nature is more fascinating than fiction…
The winners? Well… Richa (As Dear as Salt), Anita (a Mad Tea Party) and Linda (Out of the Garden)answered correctly the name of the nut. Congratulations! But, there is a hidden code in the exclamation marks in the title of the post. The marks follow what is known as the Fibonacci sequence. Each member of the sequence is formed by adding the two preceding it. And, also, each adjacent pair, as the sequence continues, approaches a particular relationship known as the golden ratio or divine proportion…this fascinating number is represented by the greek letter, phi; it appears all over nature- in the path of Venus across the heavens, in plants, animals- even in the human body! Using the measurement from our feet to the top of our heads, the golden ratio appears at our navel; also the wrist is at this marking point between our elbows and tips of our fingers…the list goes on! The Fibonacci sequence itself appears in nature as well. Good example? The spiral pattern of gobhi/cauliflower and the seeds at the center of sunflowers follows two such interlocking sequences. Also strands of DNA appear to form this pattern as well…
So, who noticed this cryptic code in the title? Two people…. The Cooker, and Anita (a Mad Tea Party)….great job both of you!!!
Obviously there is only one common element in both sets, and that is Anita…
Congratulations and a serious sashtaang pranam.. [bends down and touches her feet]
