Skip to main content

Arbi Style II

Flash back to that time before deep freezers and shopping malls. Before broccoli, bell peppers and avocados became commonplace in Indian kitchens. When vegetables and fruits meant whatever was grown that season within a few hundred kilometers of wherever you lived. I divide that time by vegetables not seasons. I am pretty sure there was more variety, but after you ruled out the bottle gourds and pumpkins, summer for me was arbi and bhindi. Just like winter was sarson ka saag which I would steadfastly refuse to eat and so only options were matar and gobhi. That's what comes out of being picky when you are growing up.

But what also comes out of this limited range is more variety in how you cook these vegetables. Let's start with colcassia or arbi. There's fried arbi I wrote about a few months back. Then there's this commonplace arbi sabzi, close enough to fried arbi but not the same. And there's a third one...but that one later. Featured right now is arbi in it's second avatar.



Peel 200 gms arbi and drop in cold water for some of the starch to wash away. Remove and cut into fingers. Also chop an onion lengthwise. Heat roughly a cup of oil in a pan (enough to deep fry) and let the temperature drop to a simmer. Drop the arbi and onions and cook on a low heat until the arbi is half cooked. Remove and drain as much oil as you can. Return to the pan with just the oil retained in arbi. Add 1/2 tsp each of salt, turmeric powder, chilli powder, a tsp of ajwain and 1/4 tsp amchur (dried mango powder). Add 1/3 cup water and simmer till the arbi is well done. Top with a sprinkle of garam masala.

Comments

very interesting!!! Its such a different recipe with Arbi... gotta try it, tx!! :)
Siri said…
interesting way to cook up our dear arbi, instead of deep frying Simra.. will try this soon..:) Happy Halloween!

Cheeers,
Siri
Bharti said…
Arbi seems really popular in the blogsphere now days. This looks like a tasty version.

Popular posts from this blog

I've found my perfect cookie

It's a bite sized cookie, with flavors of a pie, shape of a croissant and a pretty, pretty name. It's Rugelach. I first heard of this cookie when it became the baking pick for Tuesdays with Dorrie a couple of months back. The looks, the concept - everything was fascinating. And I've dreamed of making this cookie ever since. I ditched hundreds of recipes floating around and went straight to the master. It's Dorie Greenspan's recipe that I used, and ain't I glad I got it so perfect the very first time. So what's rugelach? It's cream-cheese pastry dough, rolled then cut into wedges, spread with jam and sugar and fillings of choice, rolled into crescents and baked. First the dough. Dorie did it in her processor, but I just went and did it by hand. Put 100 gms cream cheese and 100 gms butter out of the fridge until they were soft but still cold. Added both to a cup of plain flour (I omitted the salt because I use salted butter). Rubbed the flour and but

Mystery Fruit

This only happened a few times every year, just when the rainy season kicked in. A street hawker will come by, straw basket on head. He will yell "kaul chapni" and I will run out to buy a bundle of these. Stuck together like flowers, they looked like a bouquet. Every hole contains a little fruit. You break out the package, peel the tiny fruit that pops out and eat it. Done slowly, it can take you an hour to eat an head. Or did, when I was about 12 years old. That was the last time I saw this fruit. I've never seen it again, didn't even know what it was called or where it came from. Three weeks back, Vikram Doctor wrote about a store in Khar that sells Sindhi foods. He described this fruit and I knew it came from my vivid childhood memories. And finally, I knew we were talking about lotus fruit. Now talk about coincidences. Last weekend, I was passing by a lane in Bandra and for the first time in many, many years I saw the straw basket filled with my mytery fru

Of Brun and Bun Maska

There is more to Bombay's breads than the pao that goes into pao bhaji and vada pao. There's Brun. and there's bun. We will get there. First, you have to get to know the city's Parsis. And Iranis, who are also Zoroastrians, but came to city a little later, in the late 19th or early 20th century. And when they came, they brought with them these little cafes that dot the city. I am no expert on Irani chai cafes. And I can't tell you whether Yazdani Bakery will provide you the best experience or Kyani's. But I can tell you a few things you need to ignore when you get there. Appearances don't matter; so ignore the fact that the marble/glass top tables and the wooden chairs look a bit dilapidated. Also ignore the rundown look the place sports. Instead, get yourself settled. And order a bun muska. This one's familiar to you as a first cousin of the soft hamburger bun. It's similar, but just a tad bit sweeter. Maska, of course, is the generous dollop o