Make those leftovers count
Avoiding wastage is a traditional value in India which is making a comeback in these days of rising food prices. meets some homemakers who work their magic on leftovers with age-old recipes
It is late afternoon. While most of her contemporaries are deep in siestas or lost in the grandeur of twin stair-case havelis on TV, Dina Sohal, 76, has more than sinister saas-bahu polemics on her mind.
A pickle jar lies open in front of her, the aroma of raw mango and asafoetida permeates the air in the Breach Candy flat. Look into the jar and the marinated-for-a-year mango pieces are all gone and what's left is a salty, spicy sediment swimming in deep red oil.
De-stemmed, dry red chillies stand neck-to-neck in a plate nearby, and the matriarch begins working her magic. Each chilli is gingerly packed with left-over pickle masala and stood in another plate. "The fiery chilli balances out the salt and the masalas. The sourness and aroma of raw mango adds to the taste and mystery," she says, laughing. The plate of packed chillies is then left in the hot sun daily for a week.
She cautions that it should not be left outside after sundown. "This recipe has come down generations and the pickled and dried chillies do not go bad even after a year if this is strictly followed. Around the mid-70s, it began to be seen as a vestige of hard times and fell out of use."
Since neither the car outside, nor the plush interiors within indicate anything amiss, we ask if all is well. "Yes it is. But, we hear every day of how many are losing fortunes in the market and I fear within," she says folding her hands in a silent prayer. "Living a little prudently won't harm anyone," she says and takes a deep breath. "Definitely not, when it smells so heavenly."
An out-of-the-pot idea
Desai isn't alone. As inflation rises and home budgets tighten, even the well-heeled are thinking of ways to recycle food and avoid wastage. Sabzi from banana peels, poha-like snacks from left-over rotis, and cutlets from left-over fish are making a comeback with vehemence.
From the city's western coastline to the far north-eastern one in Navi Mumbai, working mother Simran Chawla rushes home from her Khalsa College job in Matunga. Her thoughts are far from her lecture on Brand Management. She is wondering what to do with the large leftover pot of masoor-ki-dal lying in the fridge from the previous day. "We'd gone out in the evening and the kids wanted pizza. Stuffed, they refused to eat and so did my husband," she says. "There's no way I'm going to throw away so much dal or simply give it away after having cooked it with so much love."
Rolling her eyes in sudden glee she smiles. "Today I'll have everyone begging for more of it, and they won't even know it's the left-over dal."
Once home and freshened, she goes about getting the masalas, flour, onions and other ingredients ready to make parathas. Seeing there is only a small container for water, we wonder how she will knead the dough. "That's where the special element comes in," she says teasingly, before uncovers the pot of dal which she had pulled out of the fridge a while ago.
"Apart from being rich in protein, these lentils are a good source of iron, potassium, sodium and vitamins," she explains and goes about kneading the dough with the dal and rolling out parathas.
A tribute to Annapurna
Cooking aficionado Shrirang Khatavkar echoes Chawla's sentiment. This caterer from Thane feels guilty throwing away vegetables simply because his son and daughter curl up their noses at them. "It made us laugh when Sharman Joshi's mother says that veggies will soon sell at the jewellers' in Three Idiots. But go to the market today and you can literally watch your money vanish," he says.
So Khatavkar decided to become innovative to make leftover vegetables appealing. And now when his eight-and-a-half-year-old son Makrand asks for another bottle gourd cutlet, Shrirang winks, fibbing: "Yeah, this uncle bought them in Vile Parle. Don't know why no one sells these here."
A half an hour drive away in Kalyan, Sarita Dani's family often has guests over for dinner or lunch. "While we can adjust with the dal, vegetables or salads thanks to the legendary Gujarati pickles, chutneys and chundos, I end up cooking too much rice or rotlas," she says. So she crumbles leftover rotis into bits and mixes them with jaggery and ghee to make laddoos which her family loves. "With the rice I end up making traditional Gujarati style bhat muthiyas. These are not only tasty but make for a filling breakfast snack," she tells us and remembers that the recipe is a hand-down from a time when food was scarce and people lived spartan lives.
"Traditionally we worship food as the Goddess Annapurna and wastage has always been frowned upon both in my maternal home and here. I want to hand this down as a value to my daughters too," says Dani.
Avoiding wastage is a traditional value in India which is making a comeback in these days of rising food prices. meets some homemakers who work their magic on leftovers with age-old recipes
It is late afternoon. While most of her contemporaries are deep in siestas or lost in the grandeur of twin stair-case havelis on TV, Dina Sohal, 76, has more than sinister saas-bahu polemics on her mind.
A pickle jar lies open in front of her, the aroma of raw mango and asafoetida permeates the air in the Breach Candy flat. Look into the jar and the marinated-for-a-year mango pieces are all gone and what's left is a salty, spicy sediment swimming in deep red oil.
De-stemmed, dry red chillies stand neck-to-neck in a plate nearby, and the matriarch begins working her magic. Each chilli is gingerly packed with left-over pickle masala and stood in another plate. "The fiery chilli balances out the salt and the masalas. The sourness and aroma of raw mango adds to the taste and mystery," she says, laughing. The plate of packed chillies is then left in the hot sun daily for a week.
She cautions that it should not be left outside after sundown. "This recipe has come down generations and the pickled and dried chillies do not go bad even after a year if this is strictly followed. Around the mid-70s, it began to be seen as a vestige of hard times and fell out of use."
Since neither the car outside, nor the plush interiors within indicate anything amiss, we ask if all is well. "Yes it is. But, we hear every day of how many are losing fortunes in the market and I fear within," she says folding her hands in a silent prayer. "Living a little prudently won't harm anyone," she says and takes a deep breath. "Definitely not, when it smells so heavenly."
An out-of-the-pot idea
Desai isn't alone. As inflation rises and home budgets tighten, even the well-heeled are thinking of ways to recycle food and avoid wastage. Sabzi from banana peels, poha-like snacks from left-over rotis, and cutlets from left-over fish are making a comeback with vehemence.
From the city's western coastline to the far north-eastern one in Navi Mumbai, working mother Simran Chawla rushes home from her Khalsa College job in Matunga. Her thoughts are far from her lecture on Brand Management. She is wondering what to do with the large leftover pot of masoor-ki-dal lying in the fridge from the previous day. "We'd gone out in the evening and the kids wanted pizza. Stuffed, they refused to eat and so did my husband," she says. "There's no way I'm going to throw away so much dal or simply give it away after having cooked it with so much love."
Rolling her eyes in sudden glee she smiles. "Today I'll have everyone begging for more of it, and they won't even know it's the left-over dal."
Once home and freshened, she goes about getting the masalas, flour, onions and other ingredients ready to make parathas. Seeing there is only a small container for water, we wonder how she will knead the dough. "That's where the special element comes in," she says teasingly, before uncovers the pot of dal which she had pulled out of the fridge a while ago.
"Apart from being rich in protein, these lentils are a good source of iron, potassium, sodium and vitamins," she explains and goes about kneading the dough with the dal and rolling out parathas.
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A tribute to Annapurna
Cooking aficionado Shrirang Khatavkar echoes Chawla's sentiment. This caterer from Thane feels guilty throwing away vegetables simply because his son and daughter curl up their noses at them. "It made us laugh when Sharman Joshi's mother says that veggies will soon sell at the jewellers' in Three Idiots. But go to the market today and you can literally watch your money vanish," he says.
So Khatavkar decided to become innovative to make leftover vegetables appealing. And now when his eight-and-a-half-year-old son Makrand asks for another bottle gourd cutlet, Shrirang winks, fibbing: "Yeah, this uncle bought them in Vile Parle. Don't know why no one sells these here."
A half an hour drive away in Kalyan, Sarita Dani's family often has guests over for dinner or lunch. "While we can adjust with the dal, vegetables or salads thanks to the legendary Gujarati pickles, chutneys and chundos, I end up cooking too much rice or rotlas," she says. So she crumbles leftover rotis into bits and mixes them with jaggery and ghee to make laddoos which her family loves. "With the rice I end up making traditional Gujarati style bhat muthiyas. These are not only tasty but make for a filling breakfast snack," she tells us and remembers that the recipe is a hand-down from a time when food was scarce and people lived spartan lives.
"Traditionally we worship food as the Goddess Annapurna and wastage has always been frowned upon both in my maternal home and here. I want to hand this down as a value to my daughters too," says Dani.
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