Morala mach er Tauk

I am not a good patient.
And definitely not one you would want to be around or take care of.

Nobody likes to be ill and illnesses definitely do not bring out the best in you.  I agree to that.
And god knows I have had my share of ailments and more in this lifetime.
And those I have borne with as much courage as I could.
Or as much as a dislocated shoulder, an almost permanently painful hand, painful feet, a weak back and neck, two surgeries, etc. etc. allow me to.
All of them have made me immobile and restricted to the bed for a period of a minimum of three months to a maximum of one and a half years.
I have bore them all ... and the time ... stoically.

But I am not talking of those large scale ones.
I am talking of the small sized ones that are always lurking around the corner of a year and jump on and grab hold of you at the slightest provocation.
Those small sniffles, a little ache here and a little ache there, a little fever today and a little tummy trouble tomorrow ... those little thorns.
They hurt. And they hurt well.
As if they had been waiting all their life to get hold of you, get you down in misery and then revel in the completeness of their existence.

I hate them. With a passion.
And with a reason too.
I turn cranky, restless, want attention, new books, soothing words and everyone around me at all times.
And I want good food.

Growing up, I have seen other children  suffer from all kinds of ailments that only kids are supposed to suffer from. Ear aches, throat pains, tummy troubles, fever, ever present cold and cough, measles, chicken pox ... every thing assigned only for children.

And then I grew up, left home, settle on my own, and started to fall ill every now and then.
I mean I got the measles and mumps long after I got married .... get the drift?
Definitely not at a respectable age for these ailments.
The doctor had asked just one question ... " Didn't you ever go out and play when you were a child?

I am sure them measles were embarrassed too and had turned tail, in around a week.
The mumps were a little more persistent.
The Doc had advised to not even think of phuchkas or chaats .... literally.
Which only made me think of them more, wondering why.
And why it hurt so much every time I thought of them.

Learnt that apparently those impure thoughts would stimulate the already painful salivary glands, making them even more painful.
And I had to live with that torture for a full two months of my adult life!

And now, I am down with this very painful, very persistent, all consuming, overwhelming, good for nothing , (with all worthy beeps), tonsillitis.

This too is  something that belonged to my siblings ... the whole brood, except me.
I used to join them, when the mothers would line them up on the kitchen verandah for a hot water gargling session on winter nights, at Dadu's place, just to compete who could throw the water farthest.

But right now, I am at my, not only wits but also patience's end.

I feel like looking up at the sky and appeal for a break from the almighty.
Which, of course, I can't.
Because my throat hurts so bad that I can hardly talk. Or whisper.
Because my head hurts so bad due to the high fever that I can hardly move it.

So I just rue.
Because I can't call up Bapi and hear his soothing voice.
Because I can't call Ma and burden her with worry ... not right now.
Because I can't call up Didi anymore.
Because I can't have B around me because this is time a crit sit has to come upfront.
Because I can't wallow in self pity and cry a little because the throat will hurt even more, if constricted ... or made to work in any way.

Because I feel like having a plateful of steaming hot and spicy biryani and have to make do with bread soaked in milk.

There.
Now that I have offloaded my pains on you and Kichu Khonn, I hope tomorrow will be a better day.

I wasn't too sure of posting a recipe today. But I, anyway, am.
I had bought some fresh Mourala or Morala fish and had planned to do at least three kinds of recipes ... both to be able to eat and make some posts ... since I hardly get fresh Morala regularly.

But the fish was so fresh that I couldn't help munching on them as I fried them. So by the time I realised I had finished almost half of my quarter kilo of fish, I had only a handful left on the plate.
So quickly decided to make the tauk or the sweet ambol.

The ambol or the tauk is eaten at the last in any Bengali meal. Believed to be an  excellent palate cleanser after any rich food as well as an aid to digestion.
And is perfect for summer lunches.

It doesn't take much to make an ambol or tauk.
It usually has a thin gravy and a souring agent and a sweet agent for balance.
Ambols usually are on the sour and salty side while tauks are sour and slightly more sweetish.

This Morala mach er tauk is sour, sweet and slightly spicy from chillies.
Tauk, mishti and jhal.

Need :

Fresh Mourala fish
Mustard oil
Mustard seeds
Whole red chillies
Chilli powder
Tamarind pulp
Sugar
Salt
Water

How to :

Marinate the fish with salt + turmeric.
Fry in mustard oil on high heat.
It will turn crisp.
Remove and keep aside.

And restrain yourself from munching on them ... ok, maybe a few but not all.

Heat mustard oil.

Add mustard seeds and red chillies.
When the seeds start to splutter, add the tamarind pulp and water.

Raise heat and bring to a boil.

Add sugar, salt and red chilli powder.
Check for taste.

Add the fried fish and lower heat.
Let it simmer for a while.

Serve cooled.

Here is my lunch plate from that day ... bhaat, aloo beans bhaja, aloo and dal sheddho makha and morala mach er tauk.

Enjoy!!

Tetul Dhyarosh / Ladies finger cooked with tamarind

 

Ma called this morning to give the news.
"The developers have started work. Amader bari ta bhanga shuru holo."
I had just picked the laptop up and settled down to make this post ... one of Thamma's recipes.
But suddenly feel disoriented.

I sit down for a while. Everything stops still. The cold wind that has been blowing all morning, the noises from the road, even the TV playing downstairs somewhere ... everything stops.
A huge silence engulfs me. 

I knew this was coming.
Ever since we cousins gathered together at Dadu's house a few months back, we knew we would get this news one day.
We knew we were getting the whole family together for the one last time.
Dadu's house was being sold.
And we had wanted to be together to relieve and hold on to old memories.
Of this house where we had grown up.
The house where Thamma ruled.
Where the whole family of five brothers and their brood stayed together for years ... long after Dadu or Thamma were no longer around.
The house that held huge orchards of mango trees, betel trees, banana and coconut and chikoo trees together ... cushioning us from the outside world. 
The house that has two huge ponds still ... one on the south and the on the east.
The house that had a khidki duaar / side door, on the pond on the east ... where Thamma would sit on quiet afternoons, letting the cool breeze from the jamun and jamrul trees dry her thick, long hair.

To build this palatial house of his dreams, Dadu had set up a brick kiln in the premises. The bricks held his initials.
I can still see him, very fair with shiny white hair,  sitting with his friends in the cane chairs, outdoors on the portico, every evening.
The breeze from the ponds ruffled his dhuti and kurta of cream silk,  as well as his hair, lightly. 
The shine from the golden buttons on his kurta would reflect in his open hearted laughs.

The mango orchards have seen us in our childhood ... playing hide and seek, climbing the low ones and hold picnics and choduibhaatis under the big ones. Ma and Jethimas would cook khichuri and mangsho in makeshift chulhas or stoves. Dadu would sit us down and make us sing by turns.
In the end, the mali / gardener would instruct his assistant to climb up the coconut trees and bring down tender coconuts for us.
While the elders drank the water, we children were more interested in the tender flesh inside.
What days they used to be!

Thamma was a lady.
All of four feet or a little less, she was the quiet strength that held the family together.
Head held high, thick black hair tied into a severe bun, crisp white sari with one single chain with a guinea as pendant and blue opal studs in her ears, Thamma looked a lady in every way.

Never have we heard her worry or think of anything negative.
Never have we seen her raise her voice as she commanded over a huge family and numerous househelps as well as the people working for the zamindari.
Huge amounts of food used to be cooked everyday for numerous people. There used to be an unending stream of relatives too. But everything ran like clockwork.
From the daily morning green grocery shopping to the dinner menu.
From entertaining Dadu's friends at tea to looking after the childrens' meals.
From keeping track of the helps and their families to keeping count of exactly how many mangoes or bananas or coconuts each tree of each variety produces every season.

But my favourite vision of Thamma was in the evenings.
Fresh starched white sari with a red border, hair just tied up, face clean and shining, she lit the evening lamp at the Tulsi plant in the uthon.
And then, in a big sized dhunuchi in which the helps would keep a few smouldering coals and some coconut husk, she would add the dhuno ( a resin like sap that creates fragrant smoke when burnt ).
Then she would walk all around the huge house with the fragrant smoke billowing out from the dhunuchi.
She would start from the Thakur ghor / puja room , upstairs, in the center of the house.
Then would complete the whole of the upstairs that included Jethu, Ranga kaku and Sejokaku's rooms and anterooms. Then the terrace.
Lastly downstairs ... the drawing rooms, the maajher ghor / ante rooms, Choto kaku's rooms, Dadu's room, the dining room.
Then the two kitchens, the bharar ghor and the goaal ghor / cow shed.
Moving lightly from room to another , she was a vision.
I loved to follow her and would often take the bowl of dhuno from the help and walk with Thamma.

The memories flow freely and wildly.

As do my tears. 

The house of my childhood is gone. Is this how things come to an end in this life?

Starting with your dearest ones? 

Does it always hurt this much when you lose things, memories or people close to your heart and life? 

Chokingly, I ask about the ponds. 

"They are still here. Since they are too deep, nobody is interested in them." 

I sigh in relief. 

They are safe. They are a part of my life too. I shall share their stories another day. 

Before coming back, Bapi had asked me if there was something I would like to keep from the house. 

"Just keep a couple of those bricks with Dadu's name on them, if possible." 

Since I had started to make a post on Thamma's recipe, I will do so.
Thamma made two kinds of tauk or ambol. One with tamarind and the other with whole amchur or dried mango pieces. 

To the ones with amchur, she always used a little mustard paste too. 

With the tamarind, it was just mustard seeds and whole red chillies and jaggery. 

I did not have jaggery, so used sugar instead.

Need : 

Bhindi / Dharosh / Ladies finger - around 10 pieces, washed and dried well

Tamarind pulp - 3 tbsp 

Mustard seeds - 1 tsp 

Whole red chillies - 1, broken 

Haldi / Turmeric powder - ¼ tsp 

Red chilli powder - ½ tsp 

Salt - to taste 

Sugar - 1 tbsp ( this is a slightly sweetish dish, so use the amount of sugar to balance with the tartness of your tamarind pulp )

Cooking oil - 1 tbsp ( I use mustard oil )

Water - around 2 cups

How to : 

Cut the dharosh / bhindi into medium sized pieces ( refer pictures ). 

Heat oil in a kadahi / wok. 

Add the mustard seeds. As soon as they start to crackle, add the red chilli and the bhindi. 

Give a good stir on high heat. 

Add the haldi powder + salt. Cover and lower heat. 

Cook till the bhindi is done. 

Remove cover, raise heat and add water + tamarind pulp + red chilli powder + sugar. 

Cover, lower heat and let it simmer till the water thickens slightly.

Serve cool or at room temperature.

This was lunch thala with the Bhaja Muger dal, Aloo dharosh bhaja, Potol bhaja and this Tetul dharosh or Bhindir tauk.

Enjoy!!

Gur diye Knaacha Aamer ambol / Green mangoes in a tangy, soupy gravy

 "Mmmmm ... badhiyaa aambaal!!"
That was B, a not very big fan of the Bengali tauk or ambols, after he tasted this ambol.
After precisely two helpings.

I made this ambol a little sweet ... so can be called as a combination of the ambol and the chaatni.
And for a change, added Gur or jaggery instead of sugar.
Also, I used the Totapuri variety of mangoes ... that are not too tart. So the addition of sweet can be kept to the minimum.

Turned out to be very, very tasty.
We had it at the end of a hearty lunch of rice, toor dal, posto fry and cabbage fry.
And kept picking up the serving spoon to sip the gravy right out of it.
And kept smacking our lips. Noisily.
Smiling at each other on that blatant lack of manners for a change. :-)

Since the mango was not ripe, the stone/pit was not too tough. And not too soft too.
It held the flesh perfectly, preventing it from turning mushy.
And was perfect to chew on too.

Not writing much today.
Will go straight to the super easy recipe. And tempt you with the pictures.

Need :

 Totapuri mango - 1 big sized , cut into chunks
Gur / Jaggery - around a tea cup full
( depends on how much sweet you want your ambol to be; I used the powdered variety)
Ginger - grated, around 1 tbsp
Mustard seeds - ½ tsp
Whole red chillies - 2, broken and deseeded
Red chilli powder - 1 tsp
Turmeric powder - a pinch
Salt - a pinch
Water - depends on how much gravy you want
A little white cooking oil

How to :

Heat oil in a kadahi.
Add the mustard seeds. When they start to splutter, add the red chillies and the mangoes.
Stir fry for a while.
Add a pinch of salt, turmeric powder and chilli powder.
Stir ... then add enough water.
Cover and cook till the mangoes are half done ... if you like a little crunch in them;
or fully done if you like them mushy.
Remove cover and add the jaggery.
Cover and let it boil till the jaggery dissolves and the gravy is of desired consistency.
Grate in the ginger now, cover and simmer for just one more minute.
Done!!

Serve cool.
The combination of jaggery and ginger makes this chaatni+ambol so different from the usual ones.
You have to taste it to know it.
While a Bengali would enjoy this at the end of a lunch, mashed up with a little rice or just plain as it is, non Bengalis can enjoy this on the side with a meal of rotis and sabzi too.

Wanna pick that piece up?
Go ahead ... enjoy!!

And oh! ... just realised I completed 280 posts.
A Yay! for me. :-)


More Green mango chutneys on Kichu Khonn

Aamer Chaatni 

Aam ki chutney or the Chundo 

Laal shaaker daatar tauk / Amaranth stems in a tangy gravy

"Aww Suro, dey na baba koyeta laal daata tuley ... naatni ta amar aasche aaj." 

 So started the days in my Dadu's house, every time I went there.

Thamma would call out to the helps to pick some good, soft daata or the stems of the Amaranth shrub.

To make the tauk.

Spicy, tangy, sometimes so sour that we would make smacking noises after every mouthful.

And get disapproving glances from her ... of course.

She made the best daatar tauk. 

And she knew I loved it.

The huge uthon or the open area in the centre of Dadu's house had a few of Thamma's favourite plants.

The laal shaak was one of them.

Those who have not seen this plant will have no idea how 

big and sturdy a plant this turns out to be ...

if it gets enough space to grow.

The leaves are used to make this bhaja or the stir fry.

And the stems or small branches are used to make a chorchori, jhaal or the tauk. 

Thamma made a wonderful jhaal out of these too ... 

hope to post that too one day.

Once Suro had picked the proper daatas, he would keep them with the rest of the vegetables

kept selected to be cooked for the day's lunch.

The maid would get instructions to remember to soak some mustard seeds too ...

along with the rest of the masalas like jeera, dry red chillies, turmeric, etc.

to be ground to pastes for the day's menu.

I don't know why I loved this tauk made by Thamma.

Ma had tried making it for me too at home ... nah ...

did not like it.

Even when it was cooked by the Kakimas, I would reject it.

Only Thamma knew how to make the perfect daatar tauk.

And she loved cooking it for me.

 After I left home, I hardly ever got to taste that tauk on my visits or vacations.

Thamma was aging.

On one of my visits I noticed the uthon lying barren.

Except the old Tulsi plant, not a single green to be seen.

The corner where stood a bright, big laal shaak plant was dark; lonely.

I had stood there for a long time ... memories haunting me.

That bright sunlit corner, a proud, red plant standing tall. And wide.

It's red leaves shining with health,

swaying in a light breeze.

And the whole kitchen area around it abuzz with the day's activities ...

Thamma's voice spreading all over like a loving blanket.

Supervising, instructing,getting things done. 

The last time I visited Thamma, she was very ill.

We knew she was going.

She couldn't recognise people. Had given up eating too.

But she recognised me.

With eyes closed, she had called my name.

And complained ... 

"Koto korey tor Maa ke bollam, ektu laal shaaker chara eney ditey ... dilo ni!

Tor jonne daatar tauk ta o korte parlam ni re. "

(She had asked my mom, in futile,  to get some laal shaak saplings ... and was unhappy
she could not make the tauk for me).

Miss you Thamma. 

After Thamma left us, I had given up eating the daatar tauk.

Ma had tried, but I just could not.

She knew each of her grandchildren's favourite dish and cooked them.

For me, it was her daatar tauk.

 I could never forget it ... along with her. 

So kept talking about it to my friends, on FB, often.

And they encouraged me to make it for myself.

Said that Thamma would be happy to see that I'm making it after her.

So I cooked it.

It definitely was not like Thamma's ... but worked like a balm on my soul.

I'm sure Thamma is proud.

Need :

Small stems of the Amaranth - peeled and cut into bite sized pieces

Mustard paste ( not too much ... around 1 tbsp for a cupful of stems )

Whole mustard seeds

Fresh green chillies

A little mustard oil

Turmeric powder

Salt

Sugar

Water

Tamarind pulp
( Thamma used to make this with dried mango pieces that we Bengalis call as Amchur.
Since I do not get it easily, I used the tamarind. )

How to :

Heat a little mustard oil in a wok / kadahi.

Add the mustard seeds. 

When they start to splutter, add the green chillies and the stems.

Stir fry for a while.

Add a little turmeric powder, salt and enough water to cover the stems.
Add the mustard paste.

Cover and cook till the stems are done.

Remove cover and add tamarind pulp and a little sugar.

Stir and let it simmer for a while.

Remove from heat. 

Serve cool.

Tauks ... or sour dishes ... are eaten had at the end of a Bengali meal ... usually lunch. 

So enjoy this after a filling lunch of rice,dal, some bhajas and fish.

I love to eat this at the end with a little plain rice,

with a lot of fresh green chilli mashed in.

Enjoy!!

Check out my simple Laal shaak bhaja too.

Aam ki chutney / Mango chutney

 
It has been one of those days when everything goes right.

Everything goes smoothly ... all errands done, all chores finished, every pending bill paid, 

every encounter positive.

Yes, the latter matters most to me.

After a spate of never ending dark days ... some days it seemed I would never ever be able to get up

 and face the world again 

... some days I had felt I would never be able to see the light of the next day,

a little goodwill and a little cheer handed to me

helps me move ahead.

Helps me realise how precious those few people are ... who stood by me ... from near and afar ...

giving me strength, love and the power to believe

that a better day will come. 

Again.

Which is why every smile that comes my way matters to me.

Every good word said to me takes me to newer heights of happiness.

Every good deed done to me reaffirms my faith in humanity.
Make me want to believe that every person is not like the ones who have come into our lives being friends, and left us all alone;
cheated, defeated and making a joke out of our trust in them.

 I was not like this. Not always. Not ever.

I flew through life ... with achievements and love. Doing good deeds.

Feeling secure. 

But time brings about tests.

Untold surprises. 

Testing our faith, our resilience. Our ability to still  have trust on the higher power.

And those who move ahead, survive.

Which is why today I appreciate every good in life even more than ever.

Because I know ... there is very little good left in the world.

And if a little of that has come your way, you are blessed.

I am blessed. I realise that.

And I know ... life will be a heady mix of the sweet, the bitter, the spice and the tang.

Love it ... and it will love you back.

Which is why, when the salesman at the store today, made a small gesture of
putting us in a different section of the store where only
special billings are done,
saving us the tedious waiting at the long, long billing counters,
I thanked him
and added a  "God bless you." spontaneously.
The smile on his face showed he was touched too.
Yes, I believe in the higher power.
He will give back what he has taken.
He will return every deed done ... to Him and to us.

Spicy, tangy, flavourful life.
 Just like this mango chutney my Ma in law makes. 

Simple, tangy and spicy. 

You'll love the flavours. And since it does not have a lot of masala, you will get that strong flavour of raw mango ... which I'm sure, all of us love.

Just that very fragrance tells us summer is here!

And this is very different from the Bengali Aamer chaatni.

Need : 

Raw mango - cut into thin slices ( I tried grated, but they turn into mush quick)

Whole jeera/cumin seeds

Salt

Hing / asafoetida

Haldi powder / turmeric

Sugar (can be done with jaggery too)

A little oil

Red chilli powder

How  to :

Heat oil. Add the jeera and hing.

Add the mango slices and stir fry on high heat.

Add the haldi powder, salt and sugar.

Cover and cook till the mangoes are done but not mushed up.

Add the red chilli powder and give one more stir.

Remove from heat and cool.

Serve cool, on the side.

Goes great with parathas or pulao.

Enoy!!

Ilisher Matha Diye Ambol / Hilsa Head in a Sweet and Sour Gravy

This is a hurried post ... so not too much of rambling today.

In my hurry to get over with my Ilish / Hilsa recipe series, I overlooked one recipe. The very favourite ambol / tauk / tok with ilish head.

And I got three requests ... two mails and one comment ... all in one day. So leaving aside a half done post, I am posting this for my readers. :-)

This recipe with ilisher matha / hilsa head, was a regular in my home .... my ma used tamarind while Thamma (grandmom) used dried mangoes ( there we call it amchur ... but now I know the powdered dry mango is actually called amchur) for the sourness.

And Thamma used to add a little diluted mustard paste to any ambol she cooked. I love the flavour ... but have not used it in my recipes.

In fact, since I was cooking for myself, I made the ambol for both the ilish roe and the head at one shot. ( You cannot miss the roe in the gravy). ;-)



Need : Ilisher matha bhaja / Hilsa head ... marinated with a little turmeric powder and salt and fried in mustard oil,
some fresh curry leaves,
whole dry red chillies, mustard seeds, a little cooking oil,
tamarind pulp diluted with water, salt and sugar to taste.

How to : Break the fried fish head into medium sized pieces.

Heat a little oil in a kadhai / wok / pan. Add the mustard seeds.

When they start to splutter, add the red chillies and then the tamarind water.

If you want to add a little mustard paste, add now. Bring to a boil.

Adjust salt and sugar. It is entirely up to you to decide how you like it ... a little too sour ... or a little more sweet ... or salty and sour ...

Add the ilish maccher matha / fish head pieces and boil for some more time.
The consistency of the gravy for an ambol / tok / tauk is very thin ... almost watery. So keep that in mind when boiling it.



The ilish head has a very unique taste and after soaking up the gravy, it gets even more tastier and flavorful. Goes great with plain rice.


Scrunch on, dear all. Enjoy !! :-)

Ilish Maacher Dim diye Ambol / Hilsa Roe in a Sweet and Sour Gravy

Ambol or Tauk/Tawk is a sour dish that is usually served at the end of a proper Bengali meal. The aim is to create enough salivation to aid in digestion and also to clean the palate for the final round ... i.e. the sweet dish.

Ambol usually has tamarind for the sourness ... but is sometimes made with pieces of dried mango too. Usually different types of small fish like Chuno punti or Mourala is used.

Sometimes vegetables like the bhindi / okra and brinjal/eggplant can be used too to make a vegetarian ambol.

This time I had some good Ilish roe. So like the ambol made with the Ilish head back home ( recipe coming up next ) , I made it with the Ilish roe/dim.

The Ilish roe/dim itself is so flavourful that just frying it is enough to chomp on and enjoy.But when in the sour gravy, it turns even more flavourful. Too good!



Need : Ilisher bhaja dim / Hilsa roe marinated with a little turmeric powder and salt and fried in mustard oil,
some fresh curry leaves, whole dry red chillies, mustard seeds,
a little cooking oil, tamarind pulp diluted with water, salt and sugar to taste.

How to : Cut the fried fish roe into bite sized pieces.

Heat a little oil in a kadhai / wok / pan. Add the mustard seeds. When they start to splutter, add the red chillies and then the tamarind water.

Bring to a boil. Adjust salt and sugar. It is entirely up to you to decide how you like it ... a little too sour ... or a little more sweet ... or salty and sour ...

Add the ilish maccher dim / fish roe pieces carefully and keep boiling.
Do not stir too much ... the roe might break.

The consistency of the gravy for an ambol / tok / tauk is very thin ... almost watery. So keep that in mind when boiling it.



Serve cool or cold with rice.
I personally like it after keeping it in the fridge for a while ... with plain rice and some fresh green chillies.

All you fish loving folks ... enjoy!! :-)