Sabudana Upma

This is Mumbai's contribution to my household breakfast for which I will be eternally grateful. My M-I-L learnt to make this and we look forward to a bowl of this from the night before it is being made for breakfast. A lot of preparation but hardly takes any time to cook.

WHAT YOU NEED:
Sabudana (about a small handful per person)
1 or 2 Potatoes, boiled and mashed
salt
shelled groundnuts, enough to add their nutty flavour
salt
oil for seasoning
jeera
urad dal
channa dal
green chilli, chopped fine

curry leaves
coriander leaves, chopped fine

HOW TO MAKE IT

Soak the sabudana overnight with about 1.5 inces of water to cover it. By the way, test the quality of sabudana as some varieties dissolve immediately on contact with water. This gummy-when-wet is, obviously, not the one we're seeking to transform into the ultimate soul food experience!

In the morning, first boil the potato with a little salt until mash consistency and then mash it. Roast a few groundnuts on a tava until the thin skin sloughs off a bit. De-skin, powder coarsely and keep aside.

In a pan, heat the oil, add the jeera, dals and roast till golden. Then add the chopped green chilli and the curry leaves. When this is cooked, add the potatoes and saute for a while. Then add the sabudana, the groundnuts and salt to taste. Lower heat and stir from time to time until it is cooked. Garnish with finely shopped coriander leaves. Serve hot. It tastes great with pickle, but I love it by itself!

Pic: Author

DON'T LOSE YOU MIND, LOSE YOUR WEIGHT - Rujuta Diwekar

I almost didn't read this book for what I believed were valid reasons.

1. It had two cover variants with a pear on one and an apple on the other. Get it ? Pear-shaped people presumably bought the pear one thereby the publisher could track through the sales which was the predominant type buying the book. Very gimmicky!
   
2. It had a very catchy title almost as tempting as the food you are trying not to gorge in one sitting. Reason: 'The Lose your Weight' bit in the title is more prominent on the cover. Hmm. Clever.
   
3. Rujuta is a dietician and a fitness trainer. When I come across one of these, I take up running (away) as a temporary fitness measure.
   
4. Said nutritionist is behind the 'presumed size zero' status of Kareena Kapoor's figure. Nope. Not a fan. No want size zero. 

I thought I had it all figured out. I'm a foodie to the core and this book was not for me.

A chance meeting with some friends (foodies like me) led to them raving about the book and letting on that it had some pretty traditional insights. I'm a sucker for time-tested and tradition in some areas of life. Plus, I was told tehre was no 'diet-diet' that she proposed, just principles. So, when the said book was spotted in local lending library, I picked it up.

I stand by everything written above, but will only add that it IS a good book. It is a guide to losing weight written by an Indian dietician and fitness trainer in an easy conversational style.

Diwekar is a good reiterator. She repeats a lot of stuff we already know but she does it in an empathetic way, handling concerns like how to keep your date with a timely snack when you're in a meeting. One of her chapters deals with the fact that all food is good. Now how can one (I, specifically), not be reassured by this? She proposes 4 principles to help one through the journey to wellbeing. I am not plugging for the book, but  you will have to read the book in the context she has outlined, to see if these principles make sense for you.

This book is breezy and you can finish reading it in one sitting. The easy conversational style is Diwekar's strength. A lot of Hinglish, some examples from her non-celeb clients, some celeb examples and many anecdotes about her treks and spiritual journeys. The last, are narrated simply, without the heavy halos that surround anything spiritual these days. Most importantly, the book borrows its concepts from Ayurveda.

Now that I have read the book, I am amused to see the reactions of people when I mention it in passing. On the one hand, they don't want to admit they're reading it. No volunteering of information without prompt. Ok, I can understand that. I wouldn't be caught dead holding a book that promised to help me lose my weight.

However, when they know I've read it (and I'm as far from Kareena-ness as it could possibly get), they break into a smile and sheepishly produce their own copy.We then proceed to discuss the practicality of the four principles but thankfully, NOT over a 4-course meal!

And by the way, the concept of 7 small meals a day doesn't contradict my foodie-ness. It simply adds 3 more opportunities to indulge my senses every day!

Picture courtesy Rujuta Diwekar.

My Perfect Little Cup of Masala Tea

Lately, when guests come home and the 'otherwise chore averse me' insists on brewing them masala chai, my husband proudly proclaims that I was taught to make tea by a tea taster relative.

Firstly, Ramki Uncle is not a tea taster, I think he was a tea technologist. And yes, he did teach me to make tea, insisting on leaving out the milk so I could taste the difference between a Darjeeling and Red Label.

Thanks to him, I've taken to experimenting with tea and sort of arrived at middle ground by insisting on having my Tata Agni tea with milk and (sacrilege!) spices but brewed the way he taught me. My Twinings Earl Grey I drink without distractions by simply dunking a teabag into hot water.

Here's my recipe for Masala Chai, the way I love it. As quantities are critical to this, I'm giving them for a single small teacup.

WHAT YOU NEED FOR ONE SMALL TEACUP OF MASALA CHAI:
Tata Agni Tea - 1 level teaspoon
Sugar - 1 level teaspoon
Water - half the small teacup
Milk - half the small teacup

Spices - 1 or 2 cardamom pods and half teaspoon of ginger - crushed individually or together

HOW YOU BREW THE TEA:

In a vessel, pour the water in and add the spices. Now bring this to a boil. Alongside, heat the milk on a medium flame. When the water threatens to boil over, switch off the gas (trust me). Quickly add the tea and the sugar, stir and keep covered. By this time, the milk must be beginning to show signs of getting heated. Increase the heat if required and bring it to a boil within the minute. After a minute switch the gas off the milk too and pour it into the tea water. (For tea, it's always tea into milk so the milk doesn't get scalded, but since we're heating the milk also, I guess we could relax and try the 'true' way later).Stir. Place a filter over the teacup and strain your fresh masala chai straight into the tea cup.

VARIATIONS:

- I've tried adding clove, nutmeg and/or crushed pepper, but I find they sort of interfere with the gingeriness.

- One more thing you can try is to add half teaspoon of dry ginger powder (readily available) just when the spice water is beginning to boil. It, well, tastes a different shade of ginger.

Red Masala Cashew

There's this visually stunning book that I own and treasure called 'Recipes from the Indian Spice Trail' by Leslie Forbes. Bought it second hand for about Rs. 25. 

This recipe I tried is from Kerala and is a variation provided by the author. Easy for me as I already had a lot of key ingredients on hand. Some inner rebel in me protested the use of two souring agents together - tamarind and tomatoes - in a recipe. But hey, the rebel always has the answers. Added a small piece of jaggery to balance the tart and a pinch of asafoetida to handle the flatulence factor. I'm giving my own recipe for the same and no quantities. Go ahead and experiment.

WHAT YOU NEED:

Cashewnuts, Tamarind, coriander seeds (or powder), cumin seeds (or powder), dry red chilli (or powder), salt, ginger, garlic, jaggery, salt, sunflower oil, asafoetida powder, mustard seeds, curry leaves, coriander leaves.

WHAT TO DO:

Soak cashews for about half hour. They soften and are easy to split if you're using the whole nut.

Pour some hot water over tamarind and let soak. When it cools, extract the tamarind water from it, discarding the seeds and skin. 

Toast coriander seeds, cumin seeds and dry red chilli - quantity to taste.  Or simply take the easy way out and use ready-made powders. 

In the chutney jar of your mixie (or the bigger jar if you're feeding an army), pour in the tamarind liquid, add the coriander powder, cumin powder and red chilli powder, ginger and garlic. You can add salt at this stage, but I prefer doing that later. Grind together to a paste.

Coat a tava with a little oil and on medium heat, cook the paste. Add water if required. Once the raw smell disappears, add the soft cashews. Simmer for a while. While this is simmering, blend tomato in a mixie jar.

Add the tomato to the cooking gravy and cook till the raw tomato smell disappears. Add salt at this stage. Taste a bit as this can get very sour. Add jaggery if required.

In a tadka ladle, pour in some oil and when hot, add a pinch of asafoetida and some mustard seeds. When the mustard begins to pop, put in the curry leaves and quickly season the gravy. Stir it into the gravy and then switch off the gas.Garnish with fresh coriander leaves.

Yummy with rotis, dosas and uttapams.There was some of this left over from the night before, so I added it to the egg batter, cut out the additional salt and added some fresh ground pepper. My morning omelette was superb!

Suggested variation:

For a very Chettinad variant, use fennel seeds (saunf) instead of mustard and increase the garlic.

(Pic my own)

Julie & Julia

In 1948, Julia Child (Meryl Streep) moves to Paris with her diplomat husband, Paul (Stanley Tucci). To keep herself occupied, she tries making hats and learning to play Bridge. Her husband suggests she should do something related to what she enjoys - food. After a very boring first class at the Cordon Bleu,Julia joins a class for professionals, all men, and soon outperforms them. She collaborates with Simone Beck  and Louisette Bertholle, to initially teach 'servant-less' Americans to cook French food and later, to write a book for the same group.

It is 2002 and Julie Powell (Amy Adams) has just moved to Queens with her husband, Eric (Chris Messina). She cooks as a means of escape from bad days at her workplace, the Lower Manhattan Development Corporation. When her husband suggests she blog about food, she seizes the idea and gives herself a year-long project - that of cooking every one of the 524 recipes from Julia Child's 'Mastering the art of French Cooking'.

These two true stories are intertwined in Nora Ephron's screenplay based on Julia Child's My Life in France and Julia Powell's blog, The Julie/Julia Project.

In the movie, Child goes on to get the cookbook published after eight long years. And Powell does cook 524 recipes in 365 days and gets offers aplenty from publishers and broadcasters. These achievements are not easy to come by and the protagonists' self doubt is touchingly portrayed. Child's reluctance to 'be a housewife who does nothing' is familiar and so is Powell's restlessness to 'do something and then I can be a writer'.

There's a wonderful top shot in the movie at Julia Child's sister's wedding. The bride and groom are dancing and the Childs drift closer, they are dancing too. Julia reaches out and holds her sister's hand. As they draw a little apart, Paul shakes hands, man-fashion, with the groom.

There are other charming moments - the story about Avis, Child getting a letter from her now-married sister, the negotiation of royalties between Child and the co-authors of the cookbook - in Child's part of the story. These sequences are so well-handled that Powell's need for expression seems - I hate to say this - childish.

Although their lives mirror each other, the two women don't meet in the movie. Nor did they meet in real life, it is presumed. Child supposedly hated the idea of Powell's blog and well,  the latter does piggyback on Child's legacy right through, doesn't she? It's as though she used her cooking talent not to create her own recipes, but recook somebody else's. However, the screenplay is sympathetic to both women.

When there's so much luscious food on the big screen and Meryl Streep (and Stanley Tucci) to drool over, who cares?

Just watched the first show in Mumbai of this movie and can't help but think that I perhaps caught the first show in the country. BTW, this is the first feature film based on a blog. Appetite was whetted adequately by the interval and I got on the outside of a perfect samosa . After the movie, Hubby and I dived into the best lunch in town -Greek Salad, Fettucine with yellow and red peppers in peanut sauce, a glass of red - with Girl from Ipanema playing in the background. Ahh. Bliss. 

Maybe it's time I blogged about food too.
 
Pics courtesy official website of Julie & Julia.

Dasvidanya

This was one of the movies I missed when I put my trust in reviewers rather than my instincts. When a friend insisted it was good, and when the local cable played it, I gave myself (and the movie), the 10-minute test. It passed with flying colours.

Dasvidanya is a delightful little film with little puns and ironies. The title itself, is a pun on the 10 things the protagonist would like to do before he dies. Sort of like a last 'to-do' list.

Thirty seven year old, Amar Kaul (Vinay Pathak) is an accounts manager who finds comfort in making lists. He lives with his TV-addicted, grouchy mother (Sarita Joshi) and has taken on her care as his life's purpose. When he finds out that he has stomach cancer and three months to live, he sets about beginning the ultimate 'To-Do' list. 

Amar's list contains simple enough wishes. He wants to buy a car. He wants to travel abroad. He wants to learn to play the guitar. He wants to fall in love. He wants to meet his best friend.And a few others that get added on as he begins to fulfil his wishes.

Vinay Pathak is a pleasure to watch as he transforms into the bespectacled Amar Kaul with his idiosyncracies, dreamcapes and nightmares. There is a beautiful irony of the character's name too - Amar (immortal).

Amar does indeed die in the end and there are no major twists in that area. No faulty diagnosis/interchanged reports etc. And yes, it is predictable for that reason. At a time when other movies try too hard to be distinct, Dasvidanya's predictability works in its favour.

It's not the best film I've seen. It's not a pathbreaking one either. And yes, there are movies aplenty on last wishes and 'things to do before I die'. But Dasvidanya is immensely enjoyable for the refreshing simplicity of Amar's character and a tragic-comic narrative that doesn't sag one bit.

Photo courtesy: santabanta.com

Four Last Songs

Larry (Stanley Tucci) is a classical pianist looking for inspiration in a Mediterranean island that was home to a famous and now-dead composer. However, the local pub is his only platform.

To infuse some purpose to his life, he approaches the composer's widow (Marisa Paredes) for permission to use the composer's work in a concert by a celebrated pianist that he intends to fly down to the island. Larry chances upon a young woman who claims to be the dead composer's muse and is in possession of his last few, unknown compositions. To add to the drama, Larry's illegitimate daughter turns up. The undercurrents run strong - the composer's widow resents the muse, Larry's girlfriend suspects him of an affair with the muse and his daughter resents the completeness of his chosen life on the island without her.

It becomes increasingly clear that the concert is jinxed despite (or because of) the best intentions of the islanders including an opportunistic Englishman (Hugh Bonneville) and his eccentric brother (Rhys Ifans). 

 

Ironically, as things fall apart around him, Larry comes into his own and despite the odds,  finally stages the concert.

Four Last Songs is a comic drama, with an ensemble cast. Perhaps a little gauche in its execution, but  also witty and poignant.
 (Photo courtesy www.allmoviephoto.com)

Sorgame

This is a song 'Sorgame endralum...' from a Tamil movie called Ooru Vittu Ooru Vandhu. The music is by Ilayaraja and the lyrics I think, are by Gangai Amaran who has also written the story, screenplay and directed it.

The hero and heroine belong to a village in Tamil Nadu. They are now in Singapore and miss their village immensely. This song captures their homesickness by the listing of simple pleasures that they miss.

Am attempting a basic translation here. As in any language, some connotations are unique. Here goes:

Sorgame yendralum adhu nam ooru pola varuma

Ada yennaadu yendralum adhu nam naatukkidaa aguma

Pala dhesam muzhuthum pesum mozhigal tamizh pol inithidumaa

Even heaven is not like my village

No country is like my homeland
Can the languages spoken in various lands
match the sweetness of Tamil?

Yeri karai kaathum yelelelo paatum

Ingey yedhum ketkavillaiye

Here I don't hear the sound of the breeze near the lake,
nor the folk songs

Paadum kuyil sattham aadum mayil nittham

Paarkka oru soalai illaiye

There is no garden here to listen to the singing cuckoo,
nor see the dancing peacock.

Vetthalaiye madichu maaman adhai kadichi

Thuppa oru vazhi illaiye

If my husband folds the betel leaf and relishes it,
there is no way to spit it here.

Oadi vandhu kudhichi munggi munggi kulichi

aada oru oadai illaiye

No stream to run up to and leap into
nor playfully bathe.

Idhu ooru yenna ooru, nam ooru romba melu

Ada odum pala kaaru, veen aadambaram paaru

Oru dhaagam theerkka yedhu moaru

What kind of a place is this?
There are so many cars and ostentations
But no buttermilk to slake the thirst.

Maadu kannu meikka meyiradhai paarka

Mandha veli ingu illaiye

No place to watch grazing cows and calves

Aadum puli aattam pottu vilaiyada

Arasamaram medai illaiye

No platform under the banyan

where 'aadum puli attam' can be staged.

Kaalai rendu putti katta vandi otti

Ganam paada vazhi illaiye

No means of harnessing a couple of bulls to a cart

and singing on the way.

Tozhigalai azhaichi solli solli rasichi

Aattam poda mudiyalaiye

No way of calling over my friends,

having long chats and playing.

Oru yendhirathapola ada ingey ulla vazhkai

Idhu yenggey poi solla manam ishtapada villai

Nam ooru pola oorum illai

Life here is so mechanical
Where do I go and bemoan this?
There is no place like my village

Although I don't really approve of the spitting part, scarred as I am by the Mumbai 'spitallions', the song does take a playful dig at Singapore and its stringent rules against spitting. ;-)

The Youtube video here.

Arziyan

I love this song anyway, but this stanza is perfect for the embodiment of the supreme as a mirror of who we are. It resonates with Delhi-6's fundamental message of seeing the supreme in yourself. The mirror is a strong symbol through the movie.

The stanza:

Ek khushboo aati thi,
Main bhatakta jaata tha

Reshmi si maya thi,
Aur main thaktha jaata tha.

Jab teri gali aaya,
sach tabhi nazar aaya,
Mujhme hi woh khushboo thi,
Jise tune milvaaya.

Roughly translated:

There was a fragrance that I wandered behind

It was a silken illusion and I stalked it

On the street leading to you, I saw it for what it was

The fragrance was always inside me and you revealed that to me.

This is the stanza where the musical composition changes. I don't possess enough vocabulary on music to describe it, but this stanza essentially stands out among the rest.

Photo courtesy: santabanta.com

Deewar

Quick recap: Vijay has been forcibly tattooed by the villagers. The inside of his forearm is now marred by a proclamation, 'Mera baap chor hai' (my father is a thief). He is still an angry young boy and will grow up to be the angry young man.

The mother and the two sons, abandoned by the father and maligned by the village, move to Bombay (now Mumbai) and live under an overbridge. When he sees how much his kid brother , Ravi wants to attend school, Vijay tells his mother that he will start working so that they can afford to educate him.That's probably the last time she proudly says, "Vijay, mere bacche!"(Vijay, my son!) Vijay takes to polishing shoes, presumably outside the race course. Ravi is being the good student in school. The mother works at a building construction site.

The scene: When the building contractor abuses the brick-laden Vijay throws a stone him and runs away. When he returns home, the mother says that what is written in one's destiny cannot be erased. She rebukes him saying, "See how silently I bear all this. Ravi is your brother, but you two are so different!"

Vijay agrees solemnly that there is a difference and says, "The biggest difference is this ." He thrusts his tattooed forearm at her. This act links in with her statement of what is written in destiny cannot be erased, much like the tattoo on his arm. The scene not only shows the primary conflict, it also foreshadows how the conflict becomes pivotal to the story that unfolds.

But Vijay's character is all about not being like his father who he considers as having abandoned the family. Vijay the boy, assumes the role of the man of the house by firstly giving up his education for his brother, then making the choice to work to help support the family and thirdly, by protecting the mother in the way he knows best. He seems to do do this quite happily. thereby living out his fantasy of what his father should have been like and couldn't live up to.

The irony is that he is being the good son, the man of the house etc. and ultimately, all he earns is his mother's disapproval (and the much touted gadi, bangla, paisa). All the time, in his mind, the father, who should have been doing all that he is doing, stays unblemished and gets his mother's sympathy while he carries the branding of his father's failures.

A big thank you to Anjum Rajabali for discussing the nuances of Vijay's character and the symbolisms in the movie at the Chennai Screenwriting workshop! Anjum sir, clap clap clap!

(Photo courtesy: www.bestwallpaperonline.org)

Dev D

Leni and Dev are in a steam room after a swim. Leni is scrubbed clean of her Chanda alter ego, at least temporarily, and has just told Dev about herself - the MMS, the social ostracization and her father's reaction. 

Exposing the raw hurt that emerges from under the hooker exterior, Leni says, “I thought my father would hold me in his arms and tell me 'Koi baat nahin, beta. Jo ho gaya so ho gaya. Bhool jao.' Instead, he shot himself.”

Dev exhales. He leans forward, asks her to come closer. He takes her into his arms and says, “Koi baat nahin, beta. Jo ho gaya so ho gaya. Bhool jao. Theek Hai?" She leans her head on his shoulder, and her child-mind fantasy about a strong father comes true.

Yes, there's a dangerous transference in Chanda's mind and one hopes for her sake it is temporary. But importantly, it's the first time Chanda opens herself to someone and also the first time Dev's character intuitively does something for somebody else.

The symbolism is interesting - they've just emerged from a cleansing dip in the pool. They are in a stark white-tiled steam room with none of the psychedelia and distractions of their lives. And they are exposed, open, wearing nothing more than white towels. There is a great sense of rebirth in this scene - emerging from water, the near-nakedness and the child-mind. 

An attempt at writing this scene as a script.

INT.

DEV and LENI/CHANDA are draped in towels and seated on the tiled bench of a steamroom at a spa they have broken into at night.

LENI/CHANDA

     I thought my father would hold me in his arms 

and tell me 'Koi baat nahin, beta. Jo ho gaya so

ho gaya. Bhool jao.' Instead, he shot himself.

Dev exhales. He leans forward, asks her to come closer. Leni/Chanda leans forward and he holds her.

DEV

Koi baat nahin, beta. Jo ho gaya so ho gaya. Bhool jao. Theek Hai?

Leni/Chanda leans her head on his shoulder, and smiles.

Photo courtesy: http://hollywoodpwn.blogspot.com

Koi Gaata

I love 'Koi Gaata...' from the movie, 'Alaap'. Written by Harivanshrai Bachchan, composed by Jaidev, sung by Yesudas. The song sounds like a lullaby, and the lyrics have just that tinge of wistfulness of an adult for a small childhood pleasure - someone singing you to sleep.

Youtube video here.

I'm attempting a translation of my favourite stanza:

Aankho Men Lekar Pyaar Amar

Aashish Hatheli Men Bhar Kar

Koi Meraa Sar Godi Men Rakh

Sahalaataa, Main So Jaataa

Koi Gaataa Main So Jaataa

Koi Gaataa Main So Jaataa

Eyes brimming with unconditional love,

And hands filled with blessings

I wish someone would stroke my head as it rests on her lap,

so I could sleep

If someone sings, I could fall sleep

If someone sings, I could fall sleep.