Thiruvadhirai Kali - To Nutty with Love!

Today is Thiruvadhirai - a day of special celebration, worship, and feasting at all Shaivite shrines in South India; and Tamil Nadu in particular. Even though the asterism of Thiruvadhirai occurs once in every 27 days, its occurrence during the Tamil month of Maargazhi (Mid-December to Mid-January) is observed with much grandeur. It is said to be the day when Shiva answered the prayers of the saints Vyagrapaada and Patanjali, and blessed them with a vision of His cosmic dance. The grandest of these celebrations are observed at the Shrine of Chidambaram where Shiva appears as Nataraja (AKA Nutty), the Lord of Dance, housed in a hall roofed with golden tiles. The festivities begin at 2 in the early morning when the murti (idon/idol) of Nataraja (Yes, the same bronze masterpiece whose replicas are seen worldwide from the CERN campus to the humblest of homes) is bathed in fragrant powders, followed by a procession around the temple to the tune of several instruments. Several hours after being woken up at an unearthly 2AM, He is finally offered a large cauldron of something that looks like mashed Sakkarai Pongal. This is the famed Kali, that is offered just once a year to Nataraja, and like all off-the-beat temple offerings, has its own small tale.

Chendanaar was a poor but pious inhabitant of the hallowed town of Chidambaram. Like all devout Shaivas of yore, he had inculcated a practice of partaking his mid-day meal only after sharing a portion of it with another Sivanadiyaar (One who offers himself to Shiva). One year, on the day preceding Thiruvadhirai, severe rains had driven people indoors. As a result, Chendanaar's wife had no opportunity to collect the necessary resources for the meal. So, when a Sivanadiyaar showed up at their doorstep in the pouring rain, they had no choice but to serve him a quick, frugal meal of rice flour cooked in jaggery syrup. Greatly saddened by their assumed inhospitality, the couple turned up early at the shrine on the day of Thiruvadhirai. When the priest finally opened up the sanctum for worship, Nataraja stood there, dancing in bliss as always, but with a smattering of Chendanaar's Rice-Jaggery paste across His lips, while scattered Kali lay all over the floor. Chendanaar's eyes welled up at the revelation of his guest being Shiva Himself, while his wife related the incident to others amidst supressed sobs of humility, wonder, and satisfaction. Ever since, the humble Kali has become a staple offering for Nataraja not only at Chidambaram, but also at everyone's homes on Thiruvadhirai. The touching tale brings to one's mind Krishna's words in the Gita :

patram pushpam phalam tOyam, yO mE bhaktyA prayacchatI

tad aham baktyupAhrtam ashnAmi payatyAtmanah.

"If a person offers to me with love and devotion, even a leaf, a flower, a fruit or water

I accept wholeheartedly, that offering made by the pure-hearted being"

It is not the offering that is so important as the spirit in which it is made. With that small thought in mind, lets dive into the recipe.

THIRUVADHIRAI KALI (Serves 2)
Set-up Time :  10 minutes

Experiment Run-Time : 25 minutes

The Shopping List

          Set 1: For the Kali
          Raw Rice : 1/3 Cup
          Moong Dal (Dehusked Green Gram) : 1 Tbsp
          Jaggery/ Brown Sugar : 1/2 Cup, powdered
          Grated Coconut : 1/3 Cup

          Set 2: For the Drool Factor

          Cashew-nuts : about 6, broken

          Cardamom Powder : 1 tsp

          Ghee : 2 Tbsp

Methodology

1. In a wide pan, fry the rice on a medium flame until it gives off a nutty aroma and turns a delicate shade of brown. Please, let it be a delicate shade of brown and not the much coveted chocolate brown!

2. Cool it sufficiently (which I always lack the patience to do) and grind it a coarse powder in a blender. A few pulses are usually enough!

3. In the same pan, fry the Moong Dal until it too starts acquiring a golden-brown hue. Pour in a cup of cold water and watch the Dals dance merrily as it comes to a boil.

4. Check the Dal in about 10 minutes. It should almost be there. If you tried to squash one between your thumb and forefinger it should give in but with a little resistance.

5. Once convinced about the consistency of the Dal, add the powdered Jaggery (Or brown sugars, as I sometimes tend to substitute) into the pan with about 2 cups of water. Let it come to a boil on medium flame 

(If you live within the subcontinent, it would be worth to dissolve the Jaggery in some warm water, filter it, and then proceed with the solution at hand)

6. When the Jaggery syrup starts to boil, tip in the powdered rice and start to stir until the rice particles are mixed well into the syrup.

7. Add a tablespoon of ghee and some cardamom powder and watch them get absorbed by the now spluttering mass.

8. Finally, add the grated coconut and incorporate it into the Kali.

9. In a separate pan, heat the rest of the ghee and fry the cashew-nuts to a golden shade.

10. When the nuts are done, add them to the spluttering Kali, ghee and all.

11. When the paste starts to leave the sides of the pan, it is done. Scoop it all up into a bowl and proceed with either your worship or your devouring!

Traditionally, the Kali is accompanied by an Ezhu-Kari Kootu, a yummy Sambhar like medley of seven vegetables. But, Hello! Where am I to go for Avarakkai, Yam, Colocasia, Mochai and the rest of the veggies in the middle of an Ohio winter? So the Nataraja at my home got served only the Kali sans the Kootu. It saddens me a little, but then again, let us all remember Krishna's words in the Gita and make up for the lack of Ezhu-Kari with a little more sincerity, devotion and love!

Milagai Thokku - Hostel-Life Nostalgia

Did I ever tell you that long ago, like around a decade ago, I joined Mepco Schlenk Engineering College, AKA "The Jail" for my Undergraduate College and ended up spending 4 years of my life there? It was the strictest place I had seen since birth. The professors were strict and tight-lipped about anything beyond the subjects, the wardens were strict about your sleeping-walking-talking-peeing habits, the janitors were strict about your hygiene, the watchmen were strict about your non-IST punctuality... honestly the list is never ending. But to be fair, I enjoyed ALMOST every bit of it. Almost, because, the hostel residents were subjected to three boring/ half-cooked/ tasteless meals every single day in a weekly cycle. The hostel mess was a place where metaphorical rock-idlies, rubber-rotis, noodle-glue and handkerchief-dosas ceased being metaphors and posed severe post-digestive nightmares instead. 

To me, almost every meal was my tongue's funeral. Again, almost because, there was the lunch menu on Tuesdays which somehow managed to jolt your gustatory organs from their coma-state. There was dal (with ghee), rice, some brilliant spinach kootu, more-milagai (fried-buttermilk-soaked-green-chilies) and this whacking milagai thokku! The thokku alone provided enough willpower to make it to the next Tuesday lunch.

The thokku was so awesome that it was the first item I missed after getting out of that place. My mom had no idea about the recipe, and at that time I didn't even know it was called milagai thokku. It was only three years ago, when I was flipping through a random Tamil magazine that I came across a photo of the very familiar dish (and learnt its name in the process). The recipe we are going to see today is what I noted down from that magazine (which I abandoned the next second as I dashed towards the kitchen!)

MILAGAI THOKKU (Serves 4 It's a pickle I say)
Set-up Time :  10 minutes

Experiment Run-Time : 20 minutes

The Shopping List

          Set 1: Spice Base
          Onion : 1 Small, finely chopped
          Tamarind Paste : 1 Tbsp, mixed with 1/2 cup of water
          Spicy Green Chilies : 10-12, slit length-wise

          Set 2: Seasonings

          Asafoetida : 1/4 tsp

          Mustard seeds : 1 tsp

          Curry Leaves : 4-5 leaves (optional)

          Chana Dal (Split ChickPeas) : 2 Tbsp

          Sesame Oil : 3-4 Tbsp (Don't cringe)
          Salt : To Taste

Methodology

1. Slit the chilies as said - along the length. You may deseed the chilies if you believe that you may have trouble sitting down tomorrow, but I must say, you would have missed the point of this dish.

2. In a small kadai or pan, heat the sesame oil and crackle up the mustard seeds. Follow it up with the asafoetida, Chana Dal and curry leaves.

3. When the Dal takes on a shiny golden hue, add the chilies and the onion. Sauté, sauté and sauté until the green chilies shrivel a little and the onions are shiny and translucent.

4. Add the tamarind water to the pan along with some salt. From now, it is just a matter of patience. Keep stirring until the liquid evaporates and oil starts oozing out from the sides. Switch off the stove.

5. Cool it down to room temperature and transfer to a clean glass bottle if you plan to keep it for sometime. With me it lasts no longer than a day.

Ready - Gobble at your own risk!

The thokku goes well with dal, sambhar, rasam and most obviously curd rice. The pleasure in rolling up a ball of thacchu mammam, dragging it through the thokku and dropping it in your mouth is indescribable. I sometimes eat it with dosas too and venn-pongal and rava idlies. All delicious. Like I said, it rarely lasts more than a day and I prepare it equally rarely (due to obvious pin-vilaivugal ;) ). But every time I make it, my mind passes through all that Mepco has given me - awesome friends, uncountable memories, a few awards and a great sense of independence. The thokku, in the truest sense, gives pleasure to the both my tongue and mind alike. 

Arisi Upma - Comfort Breakfast!

There are several ways you come across brilliant new recipes you have not even heard of before. These days, the internet is inherently the best place to stumble across interesting combinations of ingredients accompanied by photographs capable of creating a drool-pool on your keyboard. Televisions come next, with a host of cook-shows starring everyone from incredible seven-star chefs to film-celebrities who have never lit a stove. Then follow the mind-numbing varieties of cookbooks with their glossy covers and hefty price tags, covering every cuisine from everyday Indian to exotic French to Diabetic, Gluten-free, Vegan and what not. And then there are those food items that you hear of when you are least prepared to take notes - at a cousin's wedding with a lavish spread, where the chef is willing enough to share a recipe or two; at a random coffee shop conversation with a friend; at remote, never heard of canteens at government offices or from enthusiastic maamis at Chennai's many sabhas giving their opinion on the ways to make the perfect Keeravadai! This recipe also found its way into my ever-expanding lists of "to-try items" from a friend who was reeling off her amma's and paati's takes on the Arisi Upma, the lesser known southern cousin of the now ubiquitous Rava Upma!

     With her half-baked recipe floating around my head, I had to resort to the above mentioned methods to come up with a good enough source which I could safely mix and match with what I had in mind. Like I always do, after collecting one recipe from a Mallika Badrinath cook book, another from Samaithu Paar, and three more from the internet, I took the best mix of ingredients and proceeded with my own made-up recipe, which is what you are going to be treated to today!

ARISI UPMA (Serves 2-3)
Set-up Time :  10 minutes

Experiment Run-Time : 20 minutes

The Shopping List

          Set 1: Upma Base
          Raw Rice : 1 Cup
          Toor Dal (Red Gram/Split Pigeon Peas) : 1/4 Cup
          Cumin Seeds : 1 Tbsp
          Whole Peppercorns : 3/4 Tbsp
          Grated Coconut : 1/2 Cup (Fresh Preferred)

          Set 2: Seasonings

          Ginger : 1 inch piece, finely minced

          Asafoetida : 1/4 tsp

          Mustard seeds : 1 tsp

          Red Chilies : 4, broken

          Curry Leaves : a strand or two

          Urad Dal (Black Gram) : 1 Tbsp (It is yummy, so I used 2)

          Vegetable Oil : Sufficient to sauté the above

          Coconut Oil : 1 Tbsp

          Ghee : 1 Tbsp

          Salt : Adjust to taste

Methodology

1. Place all the ingredients from Set 1, except the coconut, in a Mixie jar. I used the one which is often dubbed the 'Chutney Jar' back home. It is usually the smallest of the jars and (according to me) is the best way for grinding dry ingredients.

2. Run the Mixie, intermittently on the pulse mode, a couple of times, until you get a coarse powder of dal and rice. If you grind it to a fine powder, then better luck next time. You will not be making any Arisi Upma today.

3. Set a pressure cooker on the stove. Heat the Vegetable oil on a medium flame and add the mustard seeds. Once they crackle, add the ginger, red chilies, curry leaves, Urad dal and asafoetida. Stir them around until the Urad dal takes on a reddish-brown hue. 

4. Immediately add the grated coconut and give a few swift stirring strokes. 

5. Now is the time to squeeze in the coconut oil (Oh yes! I use good old Parachute) and the generous tablespoon of ghee. They are some healthy fats, so let's not worry much here!

6. Finally, add the rice-dal-cumin-pepper powder, 3 cups of water, salt and close the pressure cooker.

7. Cook on a medium flame until you hear three whistles. Switch off the stove. Patience now! Once the pressure is released, you can dole out individual portions which may optionally be topped with more ghee (yumm!)

I served the Arisi Upma with my mother's special Urad Dal-Tamarind Chutney. I have also eaten it with Tomato Chutney, Aavakkai Pickle and Kaarakuzhambu. Each combination, I must say, is worthy of it's own poem, story and memory. 

Arisi Upma is a simple, fuss-free, breakfast masterpiece which I love to make during the winter months. After I wrap myself with a nice warm comforter, all it takes is a book and a plate of hot Arisi Upma to knock off a few hours from a gloomy Sunday. Hope you find it just as comforting as I do!