eggs and crisps and everything else


I made a quick fritatta for lunch today. I say quick because I used potato crisps instead of fresh potatoes (that version requires slicing them thin and soaking them in the egg mix). I’ve been having and making omelets this way (with crisps) ever since I can remember (my dad read it in a novel once), but now that I cleaned the oven out and got it working I can be lazy, um, stylish and just finish them off under the grill without trying (usually unsuccessfully) to fold them. It is because of this unfolded nature that I can use the word frittata instead of omelet and thereby sound even more l33t.

“What did you make for lunch today?’

“Frittata.”

“Ooh.”

The recipe is basic and very flexible. Get your egg mix ready (I did 4 eggs, or around 2 per person), so drop some milk in a bowl or a milk-shaker with salt, pepper, turmeric powder and chilli powder and add in your eggs. I like to whisk it as close to cooking time as possible so that it doesn’t sit around and lose air (if you have to beat it again it can reach a point where the resulting omelet is hard and not fluffy, which is bad).

Meanwhile chop up some garlic, onion, olives and mushrooms as I did here. You can get creative and add in all sorts of fresh and cooked vegetables, leftover meats and any stuff you have around. This is also the reason Anthony Bourdain says you should never order Seafood frittata at a restaurant’s Sunday brunch — it’s all the stuff you wouldn’t want on your plate. I like to fry the fillings in olive oil first, blacken the garlic so that it has a smoky flavour, but you can just keep it all fresh — the resulting frittata has a different flavour depending on which way you go. Once they were fried to my satisfaction I took ’em out and put some butter in the pan. Now, I’m one of the few people I know who enjoys the flavour of browned butter more than the regular stuff, so I let it get much darker than most people would. Swish it around in the (oven-safe) skillet so that it coats the side. It should get to a smoking point, BUT(!):

At this point you must have everything else ready, because now you only have a few seconds between the butter smoking and it burning, which we don’t want. Your eggs should be beaten and the filling you fried and kept aside, as well as the potato crisps (one handful per person, or one handful for every two eggs) should be at hand. Also, your grill should be started up and heating. I have done this with a ‘cold’ grill too, but the extra minute of heating-up does help and keeps a continuous cooking time for the frittata.

Place the potato crisps in the pan, spreading them out more or less evenly. Take care not to get super-hot butter on you, because it can sputter and splash. The fillings go on top of that. Try to get these evenly spread too. Finally, pour over the egg mixture (it should make a satisfyingly loud “sssshhhhh”). Now go in with a spatula and even out the thing, pull egg mix away from the sides of the pan so that runny egg mix can flow into its place. Jab at the centre bits a little to get the mixture and crisps mixed up with the egg and that uncooked egg mix is introduced to the bottom of the pan and the stuff that was frying there doesn’t burn. Cook on the stove until it looks mostly ‘scrambled’ but still has a little runny egg in there.

Sprinkle some parsley or cilantro over it. Basil’s fine too. Oregano is nice. Anything except lettuce, basically.

Place it close under a slow grill. It usually takes between 7-10 minutes until it’s done. Basically when it looks set and the bits of crisps and filling that are sticking out brown a little, it’s ready.

Remove (use an oven-mitt, that skillet handle gets hot). Place it on the stove and let it cool for a bit. That egg is still cooking and needs a minute or two to rest. Cut into wedges. Serve.


I had some leftover rice and beans and served it with that today. They actually went well together.


Previously I had served it as a sandwich filling, and that was pretty-good too.

Well, there you go. Good, old-fashioned one-pan bachelor chow. If you try it out, send me a picture.

the eight wonder of interwubbing

The Sin City team of Frank Miller and Robert Rodrigues are set to bring Will Eisner’s The Spirit to the screen. Miller categorically states that the film ‘won’t be nostalgic’. Great! Both directors have a penchant for highly stylised, graphic moviemaking. If they approach it like Sin City then you’re sure that Eisner’s ridiculously good panel composition will be brought over to the screen, and that the pulpy, hard-nosed style of the comic will be kept intact. If it was any other director, they’d look at all the suits and the fedoras and immediately it would be tinged with nostaliga and caricature to evoke what someone from our time would make of the period.

Who would play the Spirit, though?

Mike Mignola’s poster for Guillermo Del Toro’s Pan’s Labyrinth. Can we get these two to work together on everything? Please?

I’ve noticed that regular action figures in store are getting much, much worse than when I was a boy. Now I know why: they’re making all the good stuff in a separate line aimed at geek adults, and charging like crazy. Look at that Jack Sparrow — does Tussauds have a better one?

Also check out the Shaun of the Dead toys (and some spiffy steampunk ray guns). I want.

Speaking of Team Shaun (Wright, Pegg, et al), here’s a poster of their new film, Hot Fuzz.

Heath Ledger’s been confirmed as the Joker in Chris Nolan’s Batman Continues, now officially titled The Dark Knight (I wonder if they’ll chicken out and re-title it Batman: The Dark Knight later). Heath Ledger has been one of my favourite actors ever since the days of Roar. You just took one look at this guy and went, “Yeah, this is a star. More, please.” Seeing his interpretation of the Clown Prince of Crime — perhaps the first actor to come to the role with no manic/crazy/funny roles in his career so far — is going to make the ride doubly interesting. So far, barring Catwoman, DC and the Warners have been treating their core franchises well (come on, they have Joss Whedon doing Wonder Woman!). Always been a DC fan myself. Also, they have the Vertigo line, and I’d give a million spandex Marvel movies for one Fables or Swamp Thing or Transmetropolitan.

What a coincidence. I was just thinking of shopping around for a render farm. Of course, with my budget, I’d be happy to afford an Intel graphics card.

Forget goatse and tubgirl (warning: do not google the previously mentioned terms), this is the creepiest thing ever. (Safe For Work, not really disgusting, just creepy.)

This device brings up an interesting philosophical point. Is delaying the reward of the candy by placing a claw game between you and it negated by the enjoyment of the claw game? Ponder this as you waste precious pr0n time trying to grab the elusive bar of Snickers.

I have a strange feeling that these models are based on the actual 3D meshes from Ocarina of Time. Not that it would in any way take away from the sheer awesomaliciousness of the work (there, I was stuck for a word. Solved it. Welcome to the world of the speculative fiction writer, kids).

Yeah, well, you’re all still just going to end up playing Scorpion anyway.

Hyper Scan! <sarcasm> Isn’t it just the coolest thing ever! </sarcasm> When I was 8-12, we left the collectible card games to the sweaty Magic: The Gathering geeks (because anything with unnecessary usage of colons must be treated so), and kept our game consoles safe and sound so that they could process Street Fighter 2 and Shining Force in peace. Nowadays everything has some kind of collectible crap and a bad anime show attached to it.

Yet another example of why Terry Pratchett is a shining example of humanity (I’m referring here to his answer, not simply the duck on his head)

On that note, I have to announce that I have a sudden, uncontrollable urge for an overcooked, salty omelet with green chillies and bits of onion just like they make it in India. It’s 3 am. There aren’t even any eggs in the house. What’s a boy to do?

bearable flatness

If you’re Indian and you’re more than 20 years old, chances are your family didn’t have an oven at home growing up, and all baked goods were bought from the local Irani or — on a special occasion — Monginis.

Every house I’ve been in since 1991 has had a full featured cooking range with oven in it, yet I haven’t tried to bake anything in them since perhaps the late nineties. Ovens around the house have been used to store various extra pots and pans and other things. The microwave has an overhead grill element so I’ve used that sometimes, but it’s quite a pain since it takes forever to reach a good heat and has no temperature settings of its own. There is this small electric oven my mother bought ten years ago, but since that sucks up so much power it’s carefully packed away awaiting some future time when it will be put to good use as a towel warmer or something. Both the electric oven and the microwave also suffer from a small size, meaning that if I have to make pizza I need to cook each one individually (that’s 40 minutes gone right there).

The current apartment came with its own cooker but while I’ve put the stove-tops to good use I didn’t even bother — like, it seems, the previous tenant — to even turn on the oven. This is a bit of a sacreligious thing for someone who could probably live only on raw, grilled and baked goods forever, but I’ve never been much of a home baker other than the odd cake-from-a-box and the twice-yearly or so attempt at pizza (so far in the microwave grill).

Yesterday I figured I might as well clean out the oven and see if, after all these years, it actually works. Turned out to be in good shape, was relatively easy to light and use (the first oven I ever used had no light and its match-hole was waaaay at the back in one corner, which made lighting it a game of Russian Roulette with exploding LPG). It has its own rotary grill attachment with self-turning kebab skewers for even cooking (a nice touch), and an easy to light overhead gas grill.

In order to test the thing I whipped up some pizza using store-bought sauce (I found a brand that doesn’t taste like tin), cheese, zucchini, mushrooms and spicy sausage. For the bases I used Egyptian flat bread. I’ve even tried pitta bread and chapattis and they work fine as long as you don’t overcook them.

Which brings me to the only problem I encountered. Unfortunately in the hot oven, by the time the toppings were all cooked the edges of the (already cooked) flatbread had turned rock hard. It wasn’t too bad, seeing as everything that was under the toppings was soft, but not something I would like in a pizza. I tried another batch, and this time instead of the oven I just put the tray higher and lit the grill without a pre-heat. I tried the much thinner pitta bread with that, and it worked like a charm.

I finally have a working oven I can just chuck a bunch of stuff into. Thank God, all that cooking was cutting into my pr0n work time!

interwubbing 001

I figure I end up mindlessly reading newsfeeds anyway, so I might as well inflict some of the pain on my delightful reader(s).

Self Heating Dinners
Years from now, depressed and lonely bachelors everywhere will snuggle up to their warm, inviting curry-flavoured pillows.

This looks nice. I read a review, and it is refreshingly neither some kind of awkward Magic-a-la-Hollywood movie (it’s called The Illusionist, nor Edward Norton Does Shrek). Plus it has Jessica Biel in it, so I’m sold.

Edward Norton does Shrek. eeeew.

Wow. Zhang Yimou and Chow Yun Fat. Unfortunately, judging by how both Hero and House of Flying Daggers were handled, I’ll probably get to see this on DVD long before the theatrical release in these parts around 2012 (which will be an English dub anyway, so what’s the use?)

I get all hot under the collar about Ron Howard making a Straczynski-penned movie called The Changeling (a Garfield Logan movie! Woohoo! Sign up Adrian Grenier!), and then it turns out to be some kind of cheap little grey-toned thriller that will no doubt waste Nicole Kidman/Charlize Theron/Diane Lane (or other 35 actresses who have won/been nominated for an award) in a sleepy, underdeveloped character with the latest iteration of the Haley Joel Osment meme playing the creepy Son/NotSon. No doubt, with JMS writing, it will turn out that NotSon is the emissary of an ancient alien race who goes around seeding planets with their cosmic bingo-bongo.

I ask you, Ron Howard, isn’t it so much easier to round up a bunch of animals and turn them green in post? You’re the guy who made Splash, for Mary Mags’s sake!

Somewhere, deep down, JK Rowling just loves to watch fanpersons convulse.

Price of car and pedigree of brand are directly proportional to ugliness of resulting vehicle (and make no mistake, while this is a mockup, the eventual one will be a total eyesore. Hell, I remember seeing Cayenne mockups that looked
nice once). In other news, BMW X3, still no, no, no.

But, just to prove that there is an exception to every rule…
BTW, saw one of these, brand new, red and black, on the back of a shipping truck making its way from the airport. I hope and pray that the owner doesn’t wreck it before I get to see it drive by (3 out of 4 of the local Porsche Carrera GTs, including the black one I saw once, are now sadly in the scrap heap).

I love it. Does it have cupholders?

Love it more. Does it have a DAP dock?

Who’s yer daddy?

The Nigerian Carving Industry is more developed than I thought.

James Bond tech, when processed for production in the real world, always ends up looking like something from the Boys 6-12 aisle of the Toy Store.

A Bruce Lee Musical. Can’t be worse than Dragon.

And finally.

…I can’t wait for the pr0n version.

piri-piri

It’s raining outside, and has been since around 8 am. The first shower was a good long one — not heavy by Mumbai standards — but certainly the heaviest rain I’ve seen here in a while.

Now it’s down to being ‘scattered’ as the weathermen say. I’m Indian, so we love the rain, and we look forward to it no matter what. If an Indian says, “It’s a gorgeous day!” they probably mean that it’s overcast and raining, vis à vis the traditional warm and sunny definition of the term.

It’s a gorgeous day.

The tennis open is going on across town. Yesterday the papers were plastered with pictures of Maria Sharapova playing tennis in a makeshift court inside Ski Dubai, which is this town’s latest hot thing. When the Burj Al Arab was the hot thing they had Tiger Woods teeing-off from the centre of the suspended helipad a few dozen storeys up. Now all that is passé, apparently, as the Mall of the Emirates (*huge exclamation point*–third biggest in the world–*huge exclamation point*) with its attached ski-slope and snow park has taken centre stage. From the top level parking the ski slope looms above you, a pulsating plasma display of lights along a strip in the side. It
looks like the giant nacell of the Starship Enterprise, and from that angle it’s very impressive, and immediately brings up earnest desires of building and owning starships — instead of ski slopes.

Haven’t been inside the snow area — somehow the fact that I’ve never seen actual natural snow makes me reluctant to try the manufactured version. Up against the large glass viewing windows some of it gets thrown by kids, our faces the target. I put my nose up to the glass and take a look at it, smeared there. Looks like ice chips. Doesn’t look like the crystalline fractal flake patterns I would expect from real snow.

All this for a romp in a large freezer?

I’ll wait for the real thing.

Sharapova’s quote on playing tennis inside an artificial ski resort in the middle of a desert kingdom is, understandably, “Surreal.” I wonder what she’s saying now, standing on the edge of a drenched tennis court in an otherwise parched desert kingdom. There have been more sirens heard in the streets in the past hour than in the past three months. Obviously all those top-of-the-line cars with their ABS and intelligently designed tyres are in severely lacking in top-of-the-line squishy flesh things operating them.

Unlike the rest of the world, Indians just love rain, so you can imagine how Indians react in this country where this is probably the only full day (if it lasts that long) of rain we’ll get all year. Anjali called me up in the morning, and she’s been calling everyone, rallying them with stories of masala chai and bhajias. The chai I can
do, but there’s no chick-pea flour in the house (or any potatoes or onions) so no bhajias.

My mind wanders to chill breezy monsoon evenings that seem both like yesterday and lifetimes ago, of slicing potatoes and whatever else we had on hand to experiment with (mushrooms, broccoli) while my mother mixed up the batter. I’ve eaten a lot of bhajias, and so have a lot of people I know, but all of us agree that my mother made the best ones. Crisp and crunchy with the merest, milimetre-thin layer of soft batter between the outer shell and the steaming, floury slice of potato. Salty and spicy with the slight unfathomable (umami?) taste of the chick-pea, the rounding, mineral taste of cumin and the metal tang of ajwain. We never had the need for chutney with those, even when it was around.

It’s funny, but you never really think of asking you mother to teach you her recipe for bhajia batter because she might be dead in a few years.

Meanwhile it’s sad, pudgy, spongy things from the local cafe. The closest I’ve ever had was this vada-pav guy opposite Fountain, tucked away under the arches of one of the buildings. It was great, but not quite the same. Too much salt, no ajwain. Also, 2,000 kilometres away. On my last trip to Ghadeshwar (pictures of the place are in the work page) I managed to snag the last batch of bhajias from the one stall propped up on the slope. Little yellow chips, gone soft in the damp atmosphere, but still bhajias in the rain. The classic combination.

I vaguely remember learning the recipe from her, and it was more of an hour-long experiment with different consistencies and spice-levels and the thinness of the slices. I get the feeling that each time she madeit she taught herself again, and it was willingly forgotten in the subsequent eating, the gulping down of too-hot, gingery chai and too-strong South-Indian coffee. Part of the fun of cooking I learned from her was the forgetting of things. To re-learn the process every time is a vital part of me. I get the same feeling when I’m drawing or writing or taking a photograph. The sense of discovery is as important
as the sense of successful operation.

The number of times we’ve been in the kitchen — especially in the later years when Samir or I were doing the hands on work and she was instructing — and and some point halfway through the traditional recipe we’d just decide to chuck something in or change something is far too many for me to recall.

When I look through her handwritten recipe books I am always struck by the fact that there are no ingredient lists — the recipes directly begin with instructions. Heat Oil. Add this. Add that. Cook it. A dash of this, etc, etc. There are some rudimentary measurements on the way, but that’s all. Again, it’s the very visceral nature of just starting up the fire and putting things into action; cooking as a private performance, as meditative self-discovery. She never started cutting things up before she lit the fire (I do. The onions are more evenly cut, but the food is a little dead, if you know what I mean). She never cut tomatoes on a chopping board, prefering instead to slice uneven chunks right over the pot.

No one can teach you how to cook. You have to teach yourself.

Hmm, the mosque-guy has started a speech. He never does that on Thursdays. Must be the rain. If you think we love rain, imagine an entire culture that is only used to seeing it once a year.

The rain, like good bhajias, is a very elusive thing.

Nevertheless, it’s a gorgeous day.

V

don’t look, Shubha!

noodle nonsense

I made noodles. They were good. Click on ‘Read More’ for a long story about noodles in general, and a recipe on how to make the ones pictured.

Everybody loves Ramen

Ah, the stir fry. Hallowed quick meal weapon of chefs everywhere, and what better exemplifies the style than stir fried noodles? I’ve been a noodle fan since I can remember, and have developed a taste for every kind I have ever tried, from the good old red-plate ‘Indian Chinese’ stalls around Mumbai with their volcanic Szechuan Noodles (pronounced ‘Sizwon’ of course) to proper ‘Chinese Chinese’ chopsueys and smooth, lemony Pad Thai.

When I was growing up in India, stir-fired noodles were a restaurant only dish, and the home equivalent was Maggi Masala flavour 2 Minute Noodles (I distinctly remember arguing with my grandmother that we didn’t have to cook it for 15 minutes ‘like dal’ — as the noodles continued to bubble away into an inedible paste), which always looked nice and appealing in the commercials with oodles of vegetables and generally stir-fried appearance, but at home what you got was a bunch of limp white noodles in a yellow-brown spicy sauce that was more soup than stir-fry.

(Maggi in fact tried to capitalise on this mishap in the early nineties by introducing ‘Soup Noodles’ — which was the same thing, only the instruction on the back said to add three cups of water instead of two, and it came in a particularly disappointing ‘new’ tomato flavour that they had simply shanghaied from their soup line.)

In the Middle East we had no Maggi back then, but there were a bunch of the oriental intant noodle brands like Nissin (who invented them) and Koka — more on them later.

The was the added novelty of styrofoam pot noodles which did away with the washing up entirely — some even came with tiny foldable plastic forks! — but it was still the same old soupy stuff, and usually the curry flavour was the only decent tasting one. Man can’t live on curry noodles alone, you know.

So, the restaurants still held sway over stir-fried noodles, and while Martin Yan showed up every week with his rapid fire knife and all sorts of exotic chinese dishes, never once did I see a humble stir-fry noodle.

Later, of course, with the internet I found the recipes I wanted, but they usually just called for soy sauce as flavour, so as to make the noodles a base for keeping some other meat or veg stir-fry dish on. I’m a big fan of the one dish meal — there are three bachelors in the house and I’m the only one who cooks — so an elaborate banquet is out of the question. Plus there’s something immensely relaxing about making one thing in one pot, serving it up and having less washing up to do. So I did make stir-fry noodles, and for the most part they were good. It took me a while to get some balance to the ingredients, the sauces, so as to make them moist but still retain the smoky fried flavour, how much vegetable to put in, what kind of vegetables work best. I won’t say I’ve got it down to a science, but I’m confident enough to make it well 99.9% of the time, because now I have a killer app on my side.

Enter Koka. I mentioned them before; they’re a Korean company I think (mostly because their name starts with ‘Ko’ and as anyone who has seen
Mongjunggi‘ will attest, their products are, um, used in interesting ways by horny Korean adolescents), and they make the most fabulous variety of instant noodles I’ve found. While their regular two minute stuff is pretty standard, they have some real gems in their arsenal like their Laksa flavour bowl noodles (hot, spicy, coconut-creamy shrimp soup with fiery dots of chilli oil) and their range of Pho rice noodles.

A recent addition to some supermarkets here, however, has been their range of fried noodles. Now, I’ve seen fried noodles before from other companies, and tried them, and they’re pretty good on their own, but somehow they’ve always lacked a certain… balance that is key to good fried noodles. Either they’re too sugary, or too salty, or the onion oil overpowers everything.

(If you haven’t tried fried noodles, then basically they’re the same as instant noodles, only after you boil them for two minutes you drain out the water, toss it in a plate and add in the flavour satchet powder and a small satchet of oil — usually sesame, sometimes with bits of onion, mix well until everything is coated.)

Maggi in India even tried to make a variety a few years ago (they called it ‘Chinese Noodles’ — what were the rest of the range, Indian?) but it was so awful I still have an unopened packet in the back of the cupboard saved for when my enemies come calling.

Koka, meanwhile has managed to make the best variety of fired noodles. They taste excellent on their own, and one packet makes enough for a light snack. They even come in two flavours; a mild, traditional stir-fried noodles variety, and a spicy Singaporean one, which I used in the following recipe.

Recipe

Look, this isn’t going to be one of those things you see in pro cook books (especially by the French) which give measurements down to the millilitre and accentuate every instruction with loud, all-caps words like SLOWLY, GENTLY and YOU STUPID COW YOU WILL NEVER GET A MICHELIN STAR BUT I’M MAKING MILLIONS OFF THIS BOOK HAHAHAHA. I’m assuming you know your way round a kitchen, and understand that moderation is usually the best way forward, especially in stir-fry.

So, first up, get your vegetables sorted. I like to use any and sometimes all of the following:

Bean Sprouts — Downright essential. You can get them in most supermarkets, or try to sprout them at home, but either way you need to get them when each shoot is at least a couple of inches long. Buy them as close to cooking time as possible, as they don’t store very well in the fridge. A medium-sized handful per person is what I use.

Carrots — Julienne these, again two inches long is fine.

Snow peas — stack them, cut in half across the length. Or leave ’em whole if they’re small enough.

French Beans — slit the big ones down the length, leave the little ones alone.

Capsicum/Bell Peppers — long strips, half a centimetre in width. Red ones are sweet, Green ones are a little bitter, yellow ones are in-between. If you can get all of them, great!

Bok Choi/Cabbage — any robust leaf will do. I’ve even got away with iceberg lettuce once (it didn’t taste like anything). Haven’t tried spinach yet, but it may wilt too easily. Soya greens may also work. Should try those out. Fine strips, same size as the peppers.

Mushrooms — do not use tinned ones (the horror!), but a few finely sliced button mushrooms are fine. Shitake is the best. Anything that can stand being tossed around.

Brocolli/cauliflower — I suggest brocolli since it’s more robust than cauliflower, which tends to crumble. Cut them up into long, little floret ‘trees’ and blanche them for a minute, refresh in cold water and set aside (you can even save time by dunking them in with the noodles when you’re cooking them rather than separately).

Celery — loads of flavour, very nice surprise to get its sweet and peppermint spice in the middle of tangy noodles. Slice the stick fine on a 60 degree angle, and don’t use too much of it. Around an inch per person.

Spring Onion Greens — as fine as you like, but usually one half of an inch is a good balance of size vs flavour.

Onions, garlic and ginger — these are more Indian touches than Chinese, and if you don’t want them you can omit them, but I think they add great background flavours for the rest of the stuff to play with. Slice the onion as fine as you can, the garlic can either be sliced or you can just crush it and throw it in if you don’t mind large pieces of it, and the ginger should be julienned a little finer than the carrot (if you’re using Indian ginger then it’s stronger, so either learn to cut it to translucent sticks or just grate it).

…right, that’s a general checklist of the vegetables. You can add in whatever you like as long as it cooks in time and doesn’t disintegrate. You can add in meats too, just make sure they’re cooked or will cook in time, and that they’re generally chunky stuff. So strips of leftover grilled chicken breast are good, while mincemeat may not be. Go for dry, delicately flavoured stuff if using leftovers. You don’t want to be tasting yesterday’s mutton vindaloo in today’s noodles!

Now the important bit: Quantities. I use a medium-sized bowl as a measure, and use one packet of noodles per person. I always use one medium handful of beansprouts, and small quantities of onion, celery, ginger and garic as these should not be overdosed on. 1-2 cloves of garlic, half inch of strong ginger, half a small Indian onion (a quarter Spanish white or brown onion is more than enough). Then I fill up the rest of the bowl with equal parts of the rest of the veggies.

It’s important to note that only the raw vegetables meats should fill up the bowl now. A full to the brim bowl of veggies/meats after frying adding noodles will result in a full bowl of stir-fry that’s a full meal. Another way of measuring might be that the veggies should be twice/thrice the volume of the brick of uncooked noodles.

Let’s get to work. Have all your stuff ready to go, all cut up, all unwrapped, and get two cups of water boiling, and on the other start heating up a wok. Timing is an asset here, as you want the water to be boiling vigorously just as the wok reaches a good heat — it should be really hot.

Drop the noodles into the water and make a note of the time. Depending on how firm you like your noodles you have between 1.5-3 minutes to stir-fry the veggies, so splash some sunflower oil into the wok and drop all your veggies except bean sprouts and spring onion greens in. Stir like mad, toss, toss, let it fry a bit, toss again. After two minutes of vigorous cooking add in the bean sprouts and green onion, then a dash of soy sauce and toss again.

Good smell, huh?

I like my noodles firm, so I take them out at 1:30, into a colander, shake off a little of the water, then promptly plonk them in the wok over the vegetables. Open up the seasoning and oil satchets that were in the noodle pack and shake/squeeze each onto the noodles. Now you need to make sure that the flavour powder coats all the noodles and does that nice semi-syrupy thing the food engineers at Koka designed it to do, so if you have an extra cooking fork around use it to toss the stir-fry around like a salad. You should be able to tell when it’s all done; all the noodles should have stopped being white and taken on a nice brown colour. Drop the forks and toss the wok a few times to integrate the vegtables into the noodles more.

Note that you’re never going to get a perfectly uniform integration of noodles and veg, so do the best you can in the wok and put it in the bowl, where you can fiddle to your heart’s content with a fork, getting all the vegetables tucked in between those noodles.

Serve immediately. That’s it.

Um, turn the stove off!

Well, how was it? Good? Good.

Afterthoughts

In case you can’t find the fried noodle varieties, then you can still make it. Just make sure you buy some sesame oil and Chinese sauces from the supermarket — sweet and sour, hot chilli, whatever you like — and don’t use the flavour packet from the noodles. Follow the recipe as above but once you add in the noodles toss a little, then add in the sauces and sesame oil and toss some more until it all caramelises a bit. If you’re using a non-stick wok then do use the largest flame you can on the highest temperature. Stir fry needs to be very quick and very hot, and as the name suggests you have to keep stirring or tossing (which, once you get the hang of it, is loads of fun). If the temperature’s too low then you’ll end up with soggy noodles, and if you use the store-bought sauces you’re almost guaranteed to have a less intense flavour. It just won’t taste very exciting no matter how much of the sauce you add in.

If you’ve looked around the noodle aisle in the supermarket you may have come across these large packs of yellow noodles with the label ‘Pancit Canton’ — these are a Philipino variety that are made with coconut oil and do not need to be boiled beforehand. Just break off a chunk and put it into the stir fried veggies, and they tend to soften after all the sauces have been added in. Pancit Canton can also be directly put into soups at serving time, or you can make a chopsuey sauce and just pour it over them. As a fan of extra-crispy noodles too, these are great and do away with the tedium of making deep fried crispy noodles yourself. The coconut-oil flavour is usually mild enought to disappear at serving time, but this depends on the manufacturer. Some are stronger than others.

Rice noodles are more delicate, and usually they only need to be soaked in hot water beforehand, not boiled (the pack usually comes with instructions). Pad Thai sauce is becoming available more readily, and it’s a great dish if done properly. You can — and should — use more delicate veggies with rice noodles (seafood is great too), but accent them at the end with some crunchy stuff like bean sprouts (tossed in after you shut off the flame), crushed roasted peanuts and spring onions. It’s an entirely different flavour set as compared to smoky, intense stir-fry noodles, but it’s just as awesome.

Hope you enjoyed this. It’s long, I know, but I trust you learned how to make a good dish. If you try it out do take a picture and send it to me (or a link to it).

V

flavour bombs

I’m still alive.

I have been cooking.

I do this every once in a while when I feel adventurous. So: Herb Ciabatta Pizza (mozerella was a bit stringy and dry and didn’t melt well)



Potatoes with Cumin in a Red Chilli and Coconut Milk Gravy (locally abundant Egyptian/Lebanese potatoes are very crumbly, sweet and a have no real character. Also they take forever to cook)



…and finally a simple salad containing whatever is in the house, which on the day was lettuce, chick peas, corn kernels, green apples, parsley and olives in a lemon/honey/mustard dressing.



I really need to cook more often. I’m by no means a good cook, but it’s (usually) edible and healthier than eating out. So, what have you lot been cooking, and did you take photos?

V

hot heads

Yesterday I ate bheja masala, which is basically curried sheep’s brains. I can now cross “brains” off the list of foods to eat before I die.

As far as taste goes, it’s slightly underwhelming. Mind you, the version I had came in a heavily spiced gravy, but it tastes a bit like boiled egg-whites. Perhaps this has something to do with the general ineptitude of sheep; perhaps human brains have a sharper taste.

And yes, I did spend much of the meal fighting the urge to say “Braaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiinnns….” with my eyes upturned and my limp hand prodding forward.

argh, my eyes, part one

Just in case you thought I was kidding…

(note, this is exactly the same image that’s on the actual pickle bottles)

manwich

To complete a triptych of food-related photos, the other day I popped down to the local Malayalee sandwich juice guy and ordered, among other things, a chicken fillet sandwich. Upon getting home, I was happy to see that they had labelled the boxes so I didn’t have to open them up and test them.

Of course, what he had written on the box did strike me as a little disconcerting at first:

There’s no accounting for taste.

Speaking of Malayalees and food, yesterday I was at the airport seeing someone off, when who should walk by but that uber-star of Malayalee cinema (not counting Shakeela, of course!), the media magnate of the meeshe and mundu, Mohanlal.

I had half a mind to shout, “Hey, your restaurant sucks!” but seeing as I was surrounded by literally hundreds of my more southern Malabar-coast cousins, all of whom swarmed towards the star the nanosecond they caught sight of him, I decided against it. I wouldn’t have lasted more than three seconds anyway. This was not the time to be going toe-to-toe with the (rather hefty) Mohanlal on the matter of how the prawn curry was inconsistent (not to mention the fact that his restaurant is called “Mohanlal’s Taste Buds” — I mean, what da fug?).

The Bangalorean parts of my genes told me that the proper thing to do was to write to the Deccan Herald, in a prolix letter that must begin, “Sir, Esteemed Yourself is being hailed by Humble Myself to bring to kind attention of All-Selves the matter of…etc, etc.”

The Mangalorean parts of me wanted to forget such trivial matters, and to discuss the price of gold in a lengthy inner monologue.

The Mumbaikar part of me told both of them to shut up.

This reminds me of the time I saw Nikhil Advani in Oxford Bookstore, Mumbai. I didn’t recognise him at the time (“Hmm, that guy looks familiar.” “Of course he does, he looks like Droopy!” “No, I mean, besides that…”), but I’m pretty sure I would have wanted to say, “Couldn’t you have just killed Shah Rukh quick and saved us all from a bitch of a migraine?”

Today in the supermarket I passed the condiments aisle, and legions of little Mohanlals grin at me from their branded pickle bottles, the contents of which could probably eat through steel in less time than it takes to toss an appam.

He may have millions of fans, and a restaurant, and his own brand of pickles, but I have Chicken Fellate Sandwich.

And on a final note, I drove by Simran’s Appa Kadai, and tell me, why on earth would I want to go to a restaurant that serves some Punjabi girl’s father kadai-style?

dear departed