Cantaloupe-Banana Smoothie

I know, why act all pompous and call it smoothie when it’s just a milk-shake? Yeah, but doesn’t the term “smoothie” sound cute, funny, and babyish? I think some little kid at some point called a milk-shake a “smoothie” (“Mommy, I want that smoothy-smoothy drink”), and the dad who overheard it decided to revamp the term milk-shake to smoothie, because the people of this land always crave to establish their own unique identity. If the rest of the world calls something by a certain name, the people here will go to any lengths to rechristen it and adapt it to their ways.

So well, smoothie or milk-shake, the preparation of this drink cannot be more intuitive and easy. Of the several dreams and inane thoughts I have, starting a smoothie place used to be one such brainwave. It’s ridiculously easy to mash together a bunch of different combinations of fruits, add a splash of milk, cream, or yogurt, a bit of sweetness, and a few nuts or extra flavors, and you get an endless array of “healthy” drinks that people never tire of. Every time I wait in line at Jamba Juice, I sigh.

Every so often, I ambitiously buy a cartload of fresh fruits thinking that I would religiously eat them every single day. But time has a way of playing tricks on us. By the time I remember to pick out one huge fruit from the fridge, an unpleasant sight awaits me. I face an ultimatum posed by the fruits - eat us within the next two days before we hit the road to rapid decline. And so, driven by such desperation, I plonk all the assortment of fruits into a blender, pour some milk, add a dash of honey, give everything a whir, and I have four glasses of filling smoothie for breakfast and pre-dinner nourishment.

This time I picked a cantaloupe and watermelon, envisaging eating cubes of them after dinner. When I didn’t see that happening for the first two days, I decided to be proactive. The result was a cantaloupe-banana smoothie.

Ingredients:

1. Half of a medium-sized cantaloupe (peeled and cubed)
2. One banana
3. 4 cups of milk (or more depending on how thick you like your smoothie)
4. 1 teaspoon of chocolate powder (I use Ovaltine)
5. 1 Tablespoon of honey (optional; skip, if you like your smoothie to be a little less on sweet)
6. 1 teaspoon of vanilla extract (optional)

Preparation:

Dump everything into a blender and puree till smooth.

As I mentioned, the adaptions are numerous. Get creative! I always like adding banana to most smoothies because I like the texture, the flavor and yummy consistency it brings to the drink. At one point, inspired by Anand’s words, I used to add a spoon of protein powder instead of chocolate powder. I could then call it a fruity-protein drink. 

You can also add yogurt along with a bit of milk, and you get Lassi! We tried cantaloupe lassi (without banana) recently, and it came out decently. I garnished the Lassi with a teaspoon of cardamom powder, and it tasted really good - almost like dessert! 

Also, I typically don’t use citrus fruits like orange, lemon, grapefruit etc. I fear that the acidity would curdle the milk. Berries and bananas are perfect for smoothies. Without the chocolate and the honey, a glass of this smoothie is a nutritious and filling drink. It’s a perfect and easy breakfast for non-morning people like me who have barely enough time to get ready and rush. But this is also an easy way of adding calories - just because something has healthy ingredients doesn’t make the resulting output always healthy. Everything in moderation - that’s the mantra!

Butternut Squash Soup

Butternut Squash was again one of those fruits that I didn’t know much about when I first encountered it in the grocery stores here. I realized it was in the pumpkin family, and that was basically it. Later, I observed my aunt make a delicious soup with it, and I caught on to it. I was glad I could pick one more different fruit from the store and know what to do with it, and not fall back on the same old boring ones.

I love butternut squash for its sweet, buttery taste. My only gripe with it is - it’s difficult to cut! I am one of the most clumsiest people you’ve ever known. I am especially so in the kitchen, having inflicted several wounds and burns on myself. I used to always sport a band-aid on my hand/fingers that band-aid sort of became my perpetual accessory. So I resisted buying yams, beets, butternut squash and other such tough fruits and vegetables, until Anand came into my life and showcased his excellent fine-motor skills - something I lack terribly. He is extremely dexterous with the knife, and can finely dice vegetables and fruits like a professional chef. He is my kitchen-knight! I abandoned my dreams of owning a food processor the minute I sensed both his talent as well as passion. If he is a pro, his dad is a much greater pro - a champion vegetable and fruit dicer!

Anyway, I digress. So, I finally arrived at a point where I could buy any vegetable/fruit, unmindful of the peeling, cutting and dicing involved. Butternut squash has hence become a favorite at home. So I’ll get onto the preparation of soup (adapted from my aunt).

 

Ingredients:

1. A medium-sized butternut squash (peeled and cubed)
2. Two tomatoes - cubed
3. A piece of ginger
4. Two cloves of garlic - peeled
5. 2 teaspoons of cumin powder
6. 2 teaspoons of freshly ground black pepper
7. Salt to taste
8. ½ cup of milk or cream (optional)
9. a sprinkling of grated cheese (any cheese of your liking; but this is again optional)

Preparation:

1. Pressure cook (or ordinarily cook) the butternut squash, tomatoes, ginger and garlic, till the butternut squash is tender. In order to generate some vegetable broth, add an extra cup of water while boiling/cooking. A rule of thumb: add water to cover the veggies/fruit, and then add a cup or two more (if you want to save some stock, or if you like your soup to be broth-like).
2. Allow the cooked fruit/veggie to cool
3. Blend the cooked fruit/veggie in a mixie/blender using water from the resulting stock
4. Transfer the blended, orange-y goodness to a saucepan on medium-heat.
5. Add required amount of salt and the teaspoons of cumin powder.
6. If you want to thin the soup, add the remaining stock. And more water, if you prefer. The consistency of soup is totally to your preference.
7. Reduce the heat to low. Stir occasionally and let the soup come to a boil.
8. Add ½  cup of milk or cream at this stage (optional). I add 2% percent milk, and it still does a wonderful job of imparting a creamy texture to the soup
9. Heat the soup for about 5-10 minutes and switch off the heat
10. Add some ground pepper, and sprinkle some grated cheese (due to the spiciness and warmth of the cumin and the bite of the pepper, pepper-jack cheese goes well as it contributes a bit more spice and flavor. Or you can go with the simple cheddar or swiss. Or you can go all fancy with gruyere, fontina...I don’t think parmesan will go well with this)

Perhaps due to my association of soup with comfort, and comfort with rasam, I tend to go with cumin and pepper flavors while making soup. The combination adds so much warmth and spice that they are ideal companions to rely on when you battle a long tiring day, or need some warmth and pick-me-ups during cold, gloomy, bleak days. A bowl of this soup is rich and hardy, and will have you full and satisfied. Dip some grilled/toasted/garlic bread/any bread along with it, and you will look forward to a nap after the meal! 

Adaptations:

I add tomato to the soup because it is universally a good sauce/soup base. Tomatoes brings volume to the soup and complements the sweetness of the squash with its tangy-ness. My aunt also adds half an onion - red or yellow. In addition to boosting the soup further, the familiar blend of onion+tomatoes+ginger+garlic assures the Indian tongue that the strange looking orange concoction that unappealingly resembles carrot pulp, is likely to taste good :)

The cubes of butternut squash can also be roasted in the oven with a little coating of olive oil, at 400 F for 20-25 minutes. Allow to cool, and puree with water/vegetable stock. Then follow from step 4. This definitely tastes much yummier.

Since butternut-squash is in the pumpkin family, it comes close to tasting and looking like one of our familiar Indian gourds. So cubes of butternut squash can even go in Sambars. The slight sweetness makes it all the more better.

Rhubarb Coffee Cake

After a lapse of two weeks since the making of the upside-down cake with the rhubarbs, I decided to get out of the rut and finish the remaining gifted rhubarbs by making another cake recommended by Pete - Rhubarb Coffee Cake. Contrary to belief, a coffee cake doesn’t necessarily contain coffee in it. I deduced that Coffee-cakes are those served with a cup of evening coffee/tea/chocolate, and hence the generic name.

This was a really easy cake and it turned out quite satisfactorily. This is again Pete’s mom’s recipe, so I am not going into any fine details to divulge the exact recipe. But this is easy enough for most bakers - novice and experts. 

The rhubarbs are poking out

 
Overall Steps:

1. Peel and dice rhubarbs (about 1.5 - 2 cups)
2. Prepare your version of sponge-cake batter, or any basic cake batter (main ingredients needed: butter, sugar, eggs, all-purpose flour, baking soda, and vanilla extract; for a moist and soft cake, some variations add milk or buttermilk)
3. Gently fold/mix the rhubarbs into the batter (Do not vigorously mix, for you will upset the fluffiness and deflate the air in the batter; remember to not over-mix the batter after the addition of flour)
4. Transfer to a buttered cake pan.
5. Mix ¼ cup of sugar with 1 teaspoon of ground cinnamon. Sprinkle the cinnamon-sugar on top of the cake batter (this step is optional, and the proportions are subjective. It depends on how much sugar and cinnamon you would like on your cake).
6. Bake at 350 F for 45-50 minutes.

I'm not a graceful cake-tester as the huge cut shows

 

 I liked how this cake turned out - simple and a little different, owing to the sour rhubarb and spiciness of the cinnamon. The cinnamon sugar offered a nice crunch and sweetness with every bite. But Anand didn’t like this cake as much as the upside-down cake, although both cakes are quite similar. Well, that is the rule of thumb between us - If I like something, he is likely to not like it, and vice-versa ;). 

Lessons Learned:

I didn't mix the sugar and cinnamon together before sprinkling on the cake. And I didn't use a sieve or strainer to evenly sprinkle the cinnamon-sugar. It would have been better had I had the patience to go over both the steps. You can see a clumsy streak of cinnamon on top, and none at the corners of the cake ;).

Rhubarb Upside-Down Cake

I hadn’t the slightest clue what a Rhubarb was until recently. Rhubarbs are perennial plants that have woody stalks and thick fleshy leaves. The leaves are usually not used for cooking (as far as my limited knowledge). Instead, the woody red and green stalks are used in cakes, tarts, pies, and sauces. Rhubarbs are extremely tart, so they taste good when paired with sugar/sweet.

Picture courtesy

One of Anand’s colleagues, Pete, generously gave us a bag of freshly picked rhubarbs from his thriving garden. Of course, upon receiving the bounty both of us thanked him, and then blinked, for I didn’t have the foggiest idea of how to work with them. Being the kind man that he is, Pete gave us four of his mom’s lovely rhubarb recipes to help us out. Two recipes were for cakes, one for a crisp (or crumble), and the other for an oatmeal-rhubarb bar. Of course, we picked the two unhealthiest cake recipes (both of which were also highly recommended by Pete). Thank you Pete! We really appreciate your gesture.

The first one I tried was a Rhubarb-upside-down cake. Since this is our friend’s authentic family recipe, it’s obviously not right to paste the exact recipe here. But I will mention the basic steps/ingredients required (which is common knowledge in the baking world), so those of you who are so inclined can loosely adapt it. 

For some reason, the picture refuses to appear rotated here. So it is indeed upside down

 Basic steps:

1. Prepare your version of sponge-cake batter (cream together butter, sugar, eggs, and milk; add to it sifted all-purpose flour, baking soda, baking powder, bit of salt, and vanilla extract).
2. Peel and dice rhubarb - you need approximately 4 cups of diced rhubarb
3. Butter a cake pan. Alternately layer the diced rhubarb, and some sugar (or marshmallows). Form about 2 layers each of rhubarb and sugar/marshmallows. (I had only 1 layer of each, but I have a feeling 2 layers would have tasted better)
4. Then add the cake batter on top.
5. Bake for 45-50 minutes at 350 F
6. When the cake is done, allow it to cool for 30 minutes. Then gently reverse the cake onto a plate.

Lessons Learned in Baking:
These are general lessons learned in baking. While preparing most cakes, it is of utmost importance that both the eggs and the butter are at room temperature. I never paid attention to this at first, but later realized (thanks to Ina Garten) that it makes all the difference in the world between a fluffy cake and a tough one. Apparently eggs take about 6 hours to reach room temperature. If you’re like me, you are likely to not plan ahead, or remember to keep the eggs out in time. In such a case, drop the egg/s into a bowl of warm water for about 10-15 minutes (hot water would cook the eggs of course). Similarly, if you forget to keep the butter out, heat for 20 secs in a microwave (20 secs for 1 stick of butter). I heat in increments of 10 secs till the butter becomes soft. Do not melt the butter or make it runny. It is important that the butter “creams” with the sugar, and then with the eggs. If you are an aspiring baker, invest in a hand-mixer/beater. You can get an affordable hand beater for $15. It is a valuable tool to help you beat eggs, make meringues, and cream butter and sugar.

Another thing I learned - over-beating/mixing is not always good. I thought the more you whipped the batter, the more fluffy and light the cake would be. It’s only true in the “creaming” stage - where you beat the butter, sugar and eggs (in that order). The more you cream, the better. But once you add the flour, do not over-beat. The more you beat/mix, the flour develops gluten and the cake will turn out tough and dense like bread. Mix just till the flour is incorporated. The same concept applies for cookies.

Third lesson - do not keep opening the oven to test/admire your cake. The oven light serves that purpose. The more you open the oven (at the early stages of baking), the more heat you keep releasing, and your cake won’t rise or bake properly.

Adaptations:
If you are a pure vegetarian and avoid including eggs in your diet, fret not, you can still bake fluffy cakes. Ground flax-seed is an excellent (and healthy) substitute. The equivalent ratio is:
1 egg = 1 tablespoon of flax-seed powder + 3 tablespoons of warm water.

I beat this mixture and then for extra measure heat it in the microwave for about 20-30 secs, and beat it again. This will result in a gooey egg-like consistency. Although this mixture won’t “cream” as well with the butter and sugar, it is still a good enough substitute.

With regards to this rhubarb-upside down cake - I used brown sugar instead of white sugar/marshmallows between the layers of rhubarb (I used ¼ cup of brown sugar between each layer). I thought brown sugar would caramelize nicely, and I had some stock that I wanted to use up. I also cut down on the amount of sugar, for both Anand and I don’t like cloying sweetness. But we realized that to sufficiently cut down the tartness of the rhubarb, you do need plenty of sugar - about ¾ cup each layer (this is another lesson learned). It’s therefore not healthy, and should be eaten in moderation :).

Anand claims this is the best cake I’ve baked (he single-handedly finished the entire cake). A rare compliment, thanks to Pete’s mom. But I am not convinced, and am a bit frustrated that he picked this cake of all the other fancy ones I slaved over. I didn’t like the tartness of the rhubarb, and would recommend that you cut down on the amount of rhubarb used. But if you’re one who likes tart sweets, then this is just the right dessert for you!

Tomato/ Paruppu Rasam

Tomato rasam/paruppu rasam is a staple in all Tamil homes. It is the ultimate comfort food for us people. When one is feeling under the weather, nothing peps one more than a cup of warm rasam poured over fluffy rice and mixed with a spoon of mashed, cooked thoor dhal. For extra oomph, drizzle a spoon of ghee, and every part of your body and mind unwinds. The aroma of ghee and hing evokes pleasant nostalgia and transports me back home. The combination of mashed dhal, ghee, and rasam mixed with rice is the first introduction of our cuisine to toddlers (after the cerelac, cereal stage, of course). The spicy, tangy rasam seals the taste-buds of our little ones. From then on, our palate and our body resolutely associates this humble dish with sweet memories. It becomes the ideal of loving, homey, comfort food.

Rasam rice and curd rice were my staple food as a kid. I loved my grandmother’s rasam and would eagerly drink a cup of it, although it was a tad too spicy for my kiddy tongue. The taste of her rasam continues to linger on my tongue, and it’s my quest to try and recreate the exact taste. I have come close, but can never replicate her signature taste. So, my Rasam recipe is very close to my grandmothers’, which is very close to my great-grandmothers’, which is very close to Meenakshi ammals’. I am aware that every family has its own subtle variations of making Rasam. The family’s trademark or legacy, so to speak, lies in their Rasam recipe! 

Ingredients:

1. 1/2  cup of cooked, mashed Thoor Dhal (cooked lentils) (some families don't add any dhal, or add very little dhal to rasam).
2. A small lime-sized ball of tamarind (approximately 1 inch in diameter)
3. 1 tomato (depending on the size of the tomatoes and the level of tangy-ness you prefer) diced
4. 1 tablespoon of Rasam powder (Ah, that is another post by itself; The powder is a finely ground mixture of dry roasted red chillies, turmeric, coriander seeds, thoor dhal, and channa dhal; variations abound; but these days they are available aplenty in stores - MTR and Shakthi Masala are tried and tested brands)
5. A teaspoon of turmeric
6. A teaspoon or two of salt
7. A teaspoon of ghee (or vegetable oil)
8. A teaspoon of mustard seeds
9. 1/4 teaspoon of Hing
10. A few curry leaves, and coriander leaves (cilantro) for garnish
11. A piece of jaggery (about a 1 inch block)

Preparation:

1. Boil the tamarind ball with enough water to cover it (in the microwave, heat for 2 minutes). Let it cool/seep. When the tamarind is warm enough to be touched, squeeze the pulp to get the extract, and add the extract to a vessel (a medium sauce-pan). Dilute the pulp about 2-3 times with lukewarm water and extract as much “juice” as possible.
2. Add the diced tomatoes to the tamarind extract, and add 2 cups of water.
3. Add salt, turmeric, rasam powder, and turn on the heat.
4. My grandmom’s signature touch - add a piece of jaggery (pebble sized) to the mixture. The sweetness of the jaggery takes the edge off the intense tartness of the tamarind + tomatoes. I usually go overboard and add about two pieces of jaggery. Both Anand and I love the resulting sweety-tanginess. The sweetness is hardly perceptible, but the nuanced tongue can catch a hint of it. Meenakshi-ammal’s recipe doesn’t have this step.
5. Heat the tangy liquid on medium-heat till the raw taste of tamarind is mellowed and the tomatoes are cooked. (Rule of thumb - this step usually takes about 20-25 mins)
6. Mash the cooked thoor dhal and add it to the Rasam. Continue heating/boiling on medium-heat.
7. Wait till the raw taste of dhal is gone, and the rasam froths and bubbles (as my grandmother adorably says - “wait for multicolored bubbles to come around the edges of the rasam”). Note: do not over-boil the rasam at this stage. Turn off the heat.
8. Heat some ghee (highly recommended), or vegetable oil in a small pan. When hot, add mustard seeds, and let it splutter. Then add curry leaves and Hing powder.
9. Add this seasoning to the Rasam and watch its lovely sizzle. In addition, throw in some washed and cut coriander leaves (cilantro).
10. Aren’t you hungry yet? ;)
    
    

    

    Can you spot the bubbles and the froth?

Lessons learned:

When I was a kid, I never liked curry leaves and cilantro getting caught in my teeth as I was relishing the rasam rice. They were distracting and annoying. My cousins and I used to make fun of our grandmother’s heavy-handed use of cilantro, commenting - “Oh, somewhere a tree has died in the making of this rasam.” Evil people that we were, we didn’t realize that it was precisely these leaves that added the quintessential rasam flavor. When I started cooking, I made it a point to not add curry leaves or cilantro, sometimes even Hing, and I ended up with an unsatisfying taste. It took me a year to realize, “Aha!”, these tiny elements are so significant. From then on, I never ever scrimp on cilantro. I am as heavy-handed, if not more, than my grandmother.

Interestingly enough, I have come to love cilantro when I earlier choked on it. None of my Indian dishes are without an ample sprinkling of it. Recently, I heard one of my culinary gurus, Ina Garten, scoff at cilantro and remark, “It tastes like laundry detergent to me”. I felt punched in the gut. What?! How could you, Ina?! But upon further reflection (involving intense sniffing and nibbling of cilantro), I had to agree with her. It does have a detergent-like note to it if nibbled raw. But something happens when it mixes and wilts in boiling, warm rasams, sambars, curries or gravies. It imparts an aromatic, unique flavor to the dishes. So please don’t avoid adding cilantro or curry leaves. They do make a huge difference, and I assure you, your dish will not taste like detergent! And you can always remove the offending leaves from the dishes before eating! 

Adaptations:

Since I am hungry and greedy for flavors, I add a teaspoon of cumin (jeera) powder, and another teaspoon of coriander powder to my rasam (during step 3 of preparation). Sometimes, I also add a teaspoon of freshly ground black pepper. In addition, I season some cumin seeds along with mustard seeds, and I ALWAYS use ghee to fry the seasoning (step 8 of preparation). The resulting Rasam is a mix of two kinds of rasams - tomato rasam + milagu rasam. Milagu rasam (pepper rasam) is a slightly different version of tomato rasam, which again, deserves another post by itself.

Rasam is usually ladled over cooked rice and eaten with a serving of cooked/stir-fried vegetables, or with papad/vadam/chips. The grown-up version does not involve any more ghee or mashed pappu (dhal), regretfully, but you are allowed to indulge on days when you are ill, or when you deserve some extra love ;).