Quest for the perfect Boondi

................and I found it. At a wayward Duwanagiriya (a tiny box type boutique on wheels) in front of a duplicate Devon Restaurant in the heart of Polonnaruwa.

I have wasted a multitude of Rs 10/20/30s upon this quest over the years, but to no avail. Years of tongue colouring with various shades of outrageous dyes, suffering with the lingering chemical-ish tastes upon the tongue for weeks afterwards, yakking at the pungent oily aftertaste of boondi left on the shelves for too long, coated upon the tongue, seems that it all paid off. I've finally found the perfect boondi.

While Boondi is originally an Indian sweetmeat, us Sri Lankans, true to our nature have made it our own. The result is a blood red coloured, somewhat chemical-tasting overly sweet batter oozing with oil. While the result is not always pleasing, it sure is a good mood fixer. Girls and boys, if you are going through that moping period right after a bad breakup and feel the need to stuff your faces under the guise of stuffing that gaping hole in your heart (exaggeration people, exaggeration), boondi is your perfect fix.

Anyhow, while the Indian boondi is made out of chickpea flour, ours is made out of good ol pan piti (wheat flour). One reason being pan piti is much cheaper than chickpea flour and therefore it being more popular (in a nation where bread has become a staple, this comes as no wonder). While the Indian boondi is fried in ghee or vegetable oil, ours is fried in good ol pol thel (coconut oil). Once again, ghee and vegetable oil are a bit on the expensive side whereas we have plenty of coconut trees growing about! So why not Lankanize the boondi with our very own pol thel? Another difference between the Indian boondi and our is that while the syrup in which the Indian boondi is dunked in after frying is fragranced with a myriad of spices, our buggers just don't bother. In a way its a good thing. Makes our boondi taste a tad bit more raw and realistic.

Also, Indian boondi is of more mellow colours. Ours, like the people within this island is an intense and fiery red, passionate as blood and vivid as life itself. Indian boondi is small, dainty and droplet-like whereas ours are big and bold, large chunks of uncivilized looking pieces. Which does make all the difference in the world, texturally. Theirs is smooth and dainty, ours, coarse and a quite a mouthful. Bold is the word, just like our people.

However, this boondi is a cross between the Indian and the Sri Lankan. It was still warm and you can see it was fresh. Instead of sugar crystals forming on the outside of the pieces, the syrup has been absorbed well into it. When bitten into, the sweet juice just squirts into the mouth while the dough itself just melts between the syrup and the tongue. It was a boondi nicely done.

It was with great self-control that the above photo was taken. It was all I could do to keep myself from reaching out and empting the plate into the bottomless pit that is my stomach. So appreciate the effort please.
 

The Kade Fried-rice

Often spelt in baffling ways in numerous boards and wayward menus by the side of the road, I gotta admit, this brilliant mixture of rice, vegies, an alarming amount of MSG and other unnamed ingredients is something that I will never get tired of. Its fascinating how the taste of the dish differs from one restaurant/joint/wayside cafe to the other. From fine dining restaurants to the wayward duwanagiriya or a makeshift umbrella stall by the side of the road, almost every place serves this hybrid oddity that we refer to as the fried rice. However, my favourite fried rice of all time belongs to the one that is brought from a boutique a little more than a petti kade near my place. Its only second to the one that is made by Mother Dearest at home, the thought of which makes me go glazed-eyed with longing. Sigh...........

At home, its a pleasant a mixture of fried carrots, onions, cabbage, leeks, at times some spring onion and eggs mixed together with a rice of your choice. In these humble boutiques, its a whole different story. Whatever that is leftover from the lunch service is added into this mixture, along with a generous ladling of whatever leftover gravy and voila! Your fried rice is served! And the result I must say, is mindblowing. Most of the time anyway.

However, the taste is not consistent all the time. I suppose the flavour depends upon whatever is the curry that is leftover from lunch. Oh well........

The best fried rice is moist and flavoursome, the worst, dry and insipid. The well to do restaurants use basmati rice (which is a tad too dry for my taste) while at these charming boutiques, the rice used is the usual humble samba rice or the polished white rice. The said amazing fried rice that we get from the kade nearby is made with the humble samba rice and I often find onion peels, whole cloves of unpeeled garlic and other inedible knickknacks within the rice. But I suppose that too contributes to the taste.

A popular accompaniment to the fried rice is the chilli paste, usually loaded with MSG, chilli flakes and sometimes, even tomato ketchup. Tomato ketchup makes appearences in various forms on the fried rice. Sometimes whole dollops of it in the "chicken devil" (devilled chicken or the chicken stir-fry), in the chilli paste or on the rice, as it is.

Whatever the origins of the infamous fried rice maybe ( I suspect its of Chinese origin) it has made its way amongst the Sri Lankan fast food/street food staples. The very Sri Lankan way in which its spelt at various places, even the most remote nooks and corners of the country proves its point. I remember the times that "fried rice" was considered a treat in my household. A special occasion calls for a special fried rice as opposed to the everyday rice and curry. Now it has become a lazy rice that we whip up/purchase from the restaurants when time is a luxury in itself. How the times have changed!

Anyways, my recipe for the coveted fried rice is easy. Keep it easy, keep it simple. Sautee some minced garlic and ginger together in a oiled pan (as less oil as possible, preferably olive oil) add sliced onions and sautee it together until golden with the garlic and the ginger. Next, add to it the vegies, but if I'm adding mushrooms (a personal favourite that adds a certain earthiness to the dish!) add it in first and let sautee till the water evaporates. Next add to it the sliced leeks, cabbage, carrot & spring onion and mix together with salt and pepper to taste, along with whatever fried egg or chicken or both I've prepared as well as the pre-cooked rice and voila! Dinner is served!

Image credits - http://srilankanfoodrecipe.blogspot.com/2010/04/vegetarian-fried-rice.html

 





   

CHOGM baking

Since most Colombo roads are closed and there is no way of getting around Colombo without the risk of being CHOGMed from time to time, I stayed at home and baked! And made a point to photograph the outcomes :)

I have my own grandiose ideas about brownies. They need to be rich to the point of being sinful, thick to the point of being a mouthful and simply ooooooooozing with chocolate. Having tried almost all the brownies that are in the market these days, none of it actually come up to my expectations. What I find in the market are these sorry excuses of brownies that come in thin, anorexic slivers that have no richness or depth of flavour whatsoever, but the prices, phew! Exorbitant! So I bake my own :)

 

Chocolate chip cookies, a childhood delicasy that came in round tin boxes which were also a rarity. They always came around during Christmas and it only seemed right that I bake some when the December breeze was just starting to bring about that Christmassy warmth about our homesteads. My idea of chocolate chip cookies is a LARGE, rich, moist vanilla cookie that explodes in the mouth with loud bursts of chocolate that literary gives you goosebumps. I attempt to recreate the idea. And to some extent, I was succesful. Above is the proof.

Last but not the least, my father's personal favourite, the butter cookie. Beautifully caramelized on top (I make it a point to not let the sugar dissolve in the batter entirely), these buttery, milky delight has been a favourite of the household from time immemorial. Idea passed down from Mother Dearest to myself. Me being the rebel has made a few changes and out came these one Friday afternoon :)

Ah baking. It has always been a stress reliever. That feeling you get once some ridiculous idea that you've formulated inside your head comes out from the oven, that adrenaline rush you get when you turn a cake over or take the first scorching bite off a dish is just incomparable. I remember the time when in the heat of exams or assignment deadlines, I would put aside everything else and just bake, knead all my frustration, fury and disappointment, sometimes even the sadness away. The outcomes had always been so sunny and cheerful. Instant gratification, results guaranteed.

For the love of baking <3

Jam paan and other stories

Originally Posted on lady-grouchalot on Thursday, August 8, 2013. Edited and reposted.

I had jam paan today.

Nostalgic food. Brings a smile to my face everytime.

The last time I had jam paan, I must have been about 6 years old. Jam paan those days were these weirdly shaped coarse buns (to be quite honest, they looked like oddly shaped feet to me) filled with these chemical tasting red coloured jam (that awfully synthetic melon-strawberry jam) which sort of reminded me of cough syrup. I didn't like it much those days but today, my colleagues and fellow foodies at work were talking of getting kimbula banis (croissants Sri Lankan style) that I suddenly got reminded of jam paan. So that's the story of how I got to gobble down jam paan today. 

So after about 20 years today, I had a jam paan. Well, half of it to be honest as I couldn't finish one whole. I had expected the size of the jam paan to have gone down with our shrinking economy but apparently it hadn't affected the size of the jam paan as much as I had thought it would. But it had definitely affected the amount of jam that went into the paan. The jam to paan ratio was just sad. There was an awful amount of paan but a tiny amount of jam inside.

However, the bread was much softer, much delectable. There was sugar sprinkled on top which made the experience all the more nicer. The taste of the jam had changed too over the years. It didn't have the strong, chemicallish taste that it used to have before. And the jam paan somehow didn't look like a gnarled foot anymore. It was scalloped but more neatly so. It was jam paan nevertheless.

Another favourite of mine only to be found in our paradise isle but once here, found in every nook and cranny, petti kade and seedy bakery is the famous tea banis. A soft, round, slightly sweet and airy bun with a plum or two inside that once bitten into, give you a loud burst of sourness that is immediately cocooned with the doughy light sweetness of the bun surrounding it. Perfect with a banana or as I like to have them, split in two, the two halves sandwiching a generous dash of butter and an equally generous sprinkle of sugar. Perfect for tea times and hence the name tea buns, locally known as banis. There are many kinds of banis as well; seeni banis (sugar buns) with a sprinkle of sugar on top and therefore a little sticky, jam banis with a small well filled with a melon jam and gal bani (stone like banis) a hard sugary bun. Out of this, the tea banis wins hands down.

All in all, with regards to culinary creativity, I'd give the Sri Lankans a 10/10.  We may have learnt to make bread from the Dutch but regular bakery delicasies such as Kimbula Banis, jam paan and the like - essentially Sri Lankan.  

I regret not having any good pictures of these goodies to post here. Will post some when I get myself a jam paan or a tea bun next time. 

    

Jack the Fruit - Home cooked :)

Extracting jack fruit segments is quite meditative. Now, we do not have a jackfruit tree in our garden and if we did, extracting the segments from the fruit itself would be hard work which requires some serious muscle. So, like most people who like the taste of the humble vegetable/fruit every once in a while, we buy our jackfruit at the Sunday fair from women sit around surrounded by these humongous prickly lumps and their yellowish white innards scattered all around them. They sell segmented jackfruit by the bag (not quite clean) and my mother usually buys a bag or two which she makes into beautiful dishes for us.

The yellow flesh has to be separated from the hard outer husk and the lighter coloured ribbon-like innards have to be removed. When doing this, one must apply some coconut oil on to their palms to avoid the super sticky gum from sticking on to your hands. Once seperated, the segment is deseeded (the seed has various other uses or can be chucked into the dish itself) and cut into thin stripes. Then it is chucked into a pot of water with a pinch of salt (seeds go on the bottom of the pot) and boiled till it softens. Meantime, combine freshly grated coconut (about a cup) with pepper, tumeric, Maldive fish finely diced, finely sliced onions, finely sliced green chilly, a little bit of finely minced garlic and ginger, curry leaves and mustard seeds and keep aside. Once the jackfruit is half way boiled, the grated coconut is added to the jackfruit, mixed together and left to simmer on low heat, lid closed for the jackfruit flesh to absorb all that beautiful flavour until soft.

This, is a dish in itself. Beautifully soft and moist, each mouthful is a burst of flavour in the mouth. The coconut adds a certain milkiness to the somewhat solid doughiness of the jackfruit while making it pleasantly chewy at the same time. The onions are crunchy and gives that sense of acidity that perfectly balances out the dish while little seeds of mustard go pop in your mouth amidst the wonderful mushy-crunchiness sending tingles of sensation up the spine. The curry leaves deepen the subtle nuances unique to this dish reminding us that this truly, is a dish of the soil.

I don't know if anyone else prepares jackfruit in such a way as I know most boil it plain with a little bit of salt to eat it with a dried fish curry and kiri hodi - a spiced milky broth made with coconut milk, but this is how my mother has been preparing it for us all these years. And I much prefer this version too and it is among the list of my all time favourite food. I'm sorry I couldn't take a picture of the dish for the blog, firstly because I was too impatient to dig in and secondly, fingers were too sticky from desegmenting the jackfruit to hold the camera. Nevertheless, here is a picture of our Jack the Fruit in all its glory just for you :)

Woodapple jam - Everyday bread, butter & jam of childhood

I was munching on a woodapple jam sandwich the other day and contemplating on the many banalities of life when it suddenly dawned on me the dexterity of what I was eating. Its easy to take for granted what has been part and parcel of what you eat on a daily basis I suppose, and its easy to take as granted those little things that are staples of your household refrigerator. Woodapple jam! That tangy sweet taste from childhood and that acrid smell that gets some people running for the hills while others embrace the fragrance with fondness.

If Sri Lankans had ever bestowed a condiment of sheer genius, this has to be it. Woodapple is a fruit of the common man grown in abundunce here in Sri Lanka and found in abundunce fallen in the ground fragrant and ripe. When unripe, it has a greenish colour whereas the ripe woodapple takes on a dark brown colour. Another way to find out whther the fruit is ripe is to shake it. And if you can feel the flesh of the woodapple shake inside its shell, you can It has a hard outer shell that must be cracked to get to the soft mushy center freckled with seeds which can be either eaten as it is with a pinch of salt and sugar, or as a thick sweet and sour juice. The unripe woodapple is brilliant as a pickle (achcharu) with a bit of chilly powder, salt and a pinch of salt. Woodapple is wonderful in so many ways. Not to mention the many medicinal qualities that are found within this thick brown shell of this beautiful fruit.

Anyways, the jam. Yes, sheer prodigy.

Woodapple jam comes under many production lines in Sri Lanka but I believe the pioneers have been MD. This thick sweet concoction is absolutely ambrosial on bread, roti or anything else as a spread with a bit of butter. The natural tartness of the fruit combined with sweetness create a magical sensation on the tongue, sometimes raising goosebumps on the skin (yes, it is that good). Some even use this jam in desserts and cakes with the aim of giving it a certain tartness that would cut the sweetness and bring that fine balance between the sweet and the sour. 

For me, woodapple jam brings out fond memories of childhood. Simple as that.