Skip to main content

Ashtami Food



Yesterday was ashtami, the eighth day of the navratras. Twice a year in my home state of Punjab, in April and then again in October, ashtami is celebrated as kanjak. Technically, this means that it is a day you pray to the Goddess Durga and invite 7 girls to your place to treat them to a meal. But given the logistics of everyone needing to invite girls (there are only so many kids in the neighbourhood after all), here is how it works: my mum and dad will get up early in the morning and make the traditional ashtami meal of puris, semolina halwa and dried black chickpeas. We will then create little snack packs with two puris topped with a scoop of halwa and another scoop of the chickpeas.

One of us will then go out out get hold of neighbourhood kids - both boys and girls are welcome and the more the merrier. They will come in, you will spend 5 minutes doing the puja. My dad will light the traditional lamp, hand over tiny bites of halwa as prasad to the kids and then fill the plates they bring with them with the ashtami food, some gifts and typically some money. For kids, these are the two favourite days of the year. They get all the attention and get nice gifts like toys and bangles and what not. Plus my four year old niece certainly raked in enough money yesterday to keep her high on candy for a week.

As a child, my favourite time was when the puja was over, all the kids had gone home and my mum will fry fresh puris for us to eat. Everyone knows dozens of halwa recipes but my pick of the meal was black chana. For some reason, this curry was only made at our place twice a year and never more. Maybe because it's considered to be too simple compared to other curries. Because the meal is offered in prayer to Goddess Durga, no onions or garlic can be used. But even with dry spices, the curry comes out flavoursome and a great match for oily puris and the rich halwa. Here's how you make some.

Ingredients
1/2 cup black chickpeas
1 tbsp ghee
1 tsp salt
1 tsp turmeric powder (haldi)
1/2 tsp red chilli powder
1/2 tbsp cumin seeds
1 tsp garam masala
1/2 tbsp amchur (dried mango powder)

Soak the chickpeas overnight in at least 4-5 cups of water. Drain and wash in running water, then set aside. In a pressure cooker, heat the ghee. Add cumin seeds and wait for 15-20 seconds until they start to splutter. Then add haldi and stir it around to take the raw turmeric smell off. Add the soaked chickpeas, salt and chilli powder as well as 2 1/2 cups of water. Put the pressure lid on and cook for 5-6 whistles until the chickpeas are soft. There will still be some water left over from cooking, if not add 1/2 cup water, garam masala and amchur, then put the chickpeas back on heat. Cook on a medium heat until the water dries up and the chickpeas are nicely coated with spices. Serve hot with puris or paranthas.
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

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...
10 comments
Read more

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...
14 comments
Read more

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...
13 comments
Read more