Showing posts with label Ganges River Goddess. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ganges River Goddess. Show all posts

Wednesday, 21 March 2012

Vegan Aloo Gobi (potato and cauliflower)


Vegan Aloo Gobi (potato and cauliflower)
Mine should really be called Gobi Aloo, since I use a lot more cauliflower, but that’s a silly quibble.  I needed to turn to a nice vegan dish after the Great Goat Extravaganza, when I extravagantly ate nothing but goat for all three meals three days in a row.  Usually we are vegetarians, so I think my system was demanding that I put a stop to the meat fueled gluttony, and to perhaps even eschew all animals, with the exceptions of the papillons*, whom we love dearly, but wouldn’t curry.
1 tablespoon excellent quality coconut oil
½ teaspoon dark mustard seeds
½ teaspoon cumin seeds
½ teaspoon fennel (optional)
1x1 ginger
1 red onion, diced
3 cloves fresh garlic, chopped
1 to 2 Thai chilies, chopped very finely
1 to 2 tablespoons your favourite boxed masala
5 mini-potatoes, halved
¼ cup unsweetened coconut
¼ cup pine nuts
½ large cauliflower, cored and broken into florets
¼ cup frozen peas
¼ cup raw cashews
2 tiny limes, juiced


Under a non-stick large saucepan, turn the heat to medium high.  When it feels hot, add the coconut oil, and when that seems hot, add a few mustard seeds.  When they sizzle and turn white, add the rest, followed by the cumin seed.  My favourite store bought masala already comes with whole fennel seeds, but if it didn’t, I’d add these now.
Add the ginger and onion and reduce heat to medium.  When they have softened and caramelised a bit, add the garlic and chilies.  Cook for a couple of minutes, and then add the masala.  Stir well.  Add the potatoes now, on their flattest surface, because you do want them to get a little golden and crispy.  The potatoes take the longest amount of time to cook, and adding the coconut will provide a bit more oil for them to caramelise in.  When they are almost cooked, add the pine nuts and cauliflower.  Stir well to evenly distribute the masala.  Put a lid on the dish, and cook for about five minutes.  You want the cauliflower to retain a tiny bit of a crunch.  No need to boil it into submission!
When it’s soft enough, add the frozen peas, stirring in well, and putting the lid back on.  You can turn the heat off now, as the peas will thaw and warm up quickly.  You don’t need to cook them, just get them nice and hot.  Just before serving, toss in the cashews and pour the lime juice over it all, giving it one last stir to coat everything charmingly.  I served it over basmati rice, but quinoa would be even healthier.
Hopefully this vegan dish will offer my constitution the respite it deserves.  Oh, and this vegan dish tastes divine…  

* Don't worry, won't curry... Beautiful granddaughter dressing up the papillons.

Monday, 13 February 2012

The Ganges River Goddess


Ganges River Goddess 

The Ganges River Goddess floats not just in the sky over my home, but within as well.  See if you can find her divinely hovering about in my various recipes.  Here's a less ephemeral picture of her, so you know what you're looking for.  It's true, I do seem to be playing 'where's Waldo' with the goddess...  But that's because I am an ardent admirer.  If anyone can tell me the original source of this artwork, I'd be very grateful.

Thursday, 19 January 2012

When west meets east



Look up, way up, and you'll find the Ganges River Goddess hovering over my old log house in the southern interior of British Columbia, a few miles south of Nelson.  And what is she doing there?  She's being ephemeral, visible only to the most ardent admirer, blessing my home with her cardamom bliss.

How did she get there? 

She was wandering around in the cold snowy land of Canada, looking for something to eat.  She must have smelled my cooking.  It's not really the same as in India, all sorts of crazy Canadian elements have been added.  Hemp seed, for instance.  Whaddya want?  We are talking about Nelson, after all, a small Canadian city where most Indian ingredients are readily available in the supermarket, despite there being almost no Desi people living there.  Nelson has an affinity for India, which must explain what drew me there in the first place.

Growing up in Calgary, Alberta, Canada, I started cooking Indian cuisine, very badly, at the age of 13.  My earliest memories are of begging my mother to add a third heaping serving spoon of her Madras curry powder, with my siblings standing behind me, tears coursing down their cheeks, begging her to ignore me.  She occasionally obliged me, and taught me the wonders of whipping up a white sauce, adding her glorious yellow powder, and combining it with the leftovers from a meal that was too bland for me to eat.  Voila!  A cook was born.   By 13, I surpassed her: putting out tiny bowls of peanuts, coconut, chopped apples, sliced banannas, raisins, all sorts of jewels.  By 19 I found out that tinned curry powder was an abomination, and I was to report to the nearest specialty store, which happened to be in Flushing, Queens, buy my spices individually, and grind them to make my own masalas.  I'm back in Calgary now, and I'd better rush downstairs to my healthy coconut chicken, which must be stirred.