Revisiting India

The last time I prepared anything Indian was the day my grandmother was taken to the hospital on June 23rd - the day after her birthday. That night, Phil and I got home around 10 PM but I was so wired, I wanted to cook. When I’m upset or distraught, cooking sets me straight and preparing the Indian feast was required. It came out perfect and he loved it so I know my darling won’t be disappointed in the future when I prepare Indian food. I didn’t for the reason of not having time. To me, the cuisine of India is a religious practice, as weird as that sounds. It takes time, it takes grace, and a whole lot of spices. I remember after when I was on my nonstop Indian food kick, my mom made a note to whenever the kitchen smelled like a spice shack, she knew I was making something from India. The aromatics are one of the reasons why I love this food; it’s like an instant perfume.

Dhansak is another one pot meal or stew, popular amongst the Parsi which combine Persian and Gujarati cuisine. A more ‘Gujarat’ Dhansak would solely involve vegetables; however, when I was browsing, I saw many mutton and chicken Dhansak. There isn’t a single recipe that’s the same; all are different, including mine. Since I saw the soy chunks comfortably nestled in my cabinet, I thought it would be nice to add them to the pot as a mock chicken sorta appeal. The flavors melded perfectly. The pumpkin is added early, so by the end of the preparation, it melts into a pureed consistency and thickens the spiced water or in my case, loose tamarind juice. I went with tamarind because I haven’t used it in a while and I didn’t feel like having anything rich, such as adding coconut milk. Sometimes the coconut milk can overpower other flavors in the dish and I wanted to experience a more direct taste of taro root.

Taro root is rather tasteless, if you ask me. Its texture is a cross between the yuca and a less starchy potato, say, a new potato or a partially cooked carrot. I apparently prepared it correctly considering my mouth didn’t burn and I wasn’t in pain afterwards. Its leaves (callaloo), of course, is used just as much so I didn’t mind experimenting. I found it sold in the freezer at the market today to avoid the fuzziness on its skin. The skin of the taro root is similar to the hairs of a corn. It’s not harmful but gosh its so annoying. The root itself is inedible, as I said, in its raw state and some people may react in touching the open flesh of the taro. It apparently varies from being purple to white since I saw some frozen ‘taro’ and it was purple; as was its pureed form. The taro root is a staple in Hawaii, commonly used as poi. Poi is simply the taro root cooked, mashed, and used like as a bread or starch substitution. It grows just that well there.

I, however, still prefer my cassava and squeal every time I bite into its creamy severely starchy texture. It’s so, so, so good even though I’m not fond of pearls. Since I won’t have access to this delectable tuber, I’m going to attempt to grow it and kabocha in my new backyard. Apparently, yuca is very forgiving and an easy growing root. So, hey, what have I got to lose?

And yes, it looks complicated but it’s honestly not. It would be a lot easier to have your spices pre-mixed, especially the garam masala it’s essentially used in every dish. The sambar powder, not so much, but it’s also handy and adds a nice flavor. Panch Poran is another mixture that’s utilized in a variety of dishes; however, in different regions of India, the standard spice mixtures may have an additional or subtracted ingredient. Authenticity isn’t one hundred percent important, but when it comes to doing Indian food, I like to be as accurate as possible. As I said, it’s like a ritual.

For the Dhansak, you can use whatever vegetables but dahl is fundamental. A mixture of dahls would provide a much better texture. Of course the split dahls could faster than whole pulses or legumes, but lentils in addition to, say, whole mung, rajma, or channa would provide an interesting mouth feel. If you are going to add whole legumes, pre-cook them but not the split peas. The concept of Dhansak is ‘comfort’ so use your favorite vegetables, as I had even though some say pumpkin or the taro is required; use meat or not. It’s hard to locate what is in authentic Dhansak since there are so many variations to the recipe. The flavors need to amplify the common flavors types: sweet, sour, hot, and spicy.

It was so good..I want to make it again..and again..and again.

Dhansak
1 small batata (purple potato), diced into ½ dices
1 small taro root, diced into ½ dices
1 small yuca, diced into ½ dices
1 medium wedge of pumpkin or squash, diced into ½ dices
½ small onion, diced into ½ dices
½ cup spinach, chopped
2/3 cup shredded soy chunks, optional
½ tbsp mung dahl

1 garlic clove, minced
A few pieces of fresh ginger, minced
1 tbsp tamarind pulp (option: Omit and use coconut powder for more creamy consistency)
A few sprigs of : Cilantro and mint
1 tbsp lemon juice or red wine vinegar
2+ cups of water

Mustard powder
Cumin, roasted
Chili Powder, roasted
Coriander powder, roasted
Curry leaves
Sambar Powder (roasted, ground and blended together: dried chilis, coriander seeds, cumin seeds, fenugreek seeds, black pepper, mustard seeds, split mung dahl, masoor dahl, poppy seeds, cinnamon, curry leaves, tumeric)
Garam Masala (ground together: cardamom seeds, cloves, cinnamon, pepper)
Tumeric powder

Garnish
Extra fenugreek and masala for topping
1 tiny chili, optional

First in a deep pot, sauté the onion until it just begins to turn color. Add the garlic, ginger and saute until fragrant. Next, add the starch vegetables - batata, yuca, and taro/colocasia, mung dahl, two cups of water with the tamarind, turmeric, cilantro and mint. Bring this to a boil, cover, and cook for five minutes. After five minutes add the pumpkin, mustard, and cumin. Cover again and cook an additional five to eight minutes.

Once the vegetables become penetrable, add the spinach, pumpkin, soy, lemon juice, garam masala, coriander powder, chili powder, curry leaves, and sambar powder, and a pinch of fenugreek since I really love fenugreek (it‘s the aroma of India). Cover, cook for five to ten minutes or until everything gets thick.
Turn off the heat, cover, and let sit for a while - if you can stand the wait.

Prior to serving stir in extra fenugreek, garam masala, and fresh cilantro and mint. Garnish with a chili and serve along with rice.