themissingdrumstick

Imran’s – The Holy Grail of Tujj (Kashmiri BBQ)

A delayed flight had left me feeling rather weary, with the agonisingly long layover in the capital compounding the fatigue. But the pleasant early autumn nip in the air and the prospect of Tujj were too alluring to spend the evening cooped up in a hotel room.

The street leading to Khayaam Chowk is lined with stalls selling the Kashmiri version of BBQ. Pitmasters fanning the grills with the flamboyance and laidback confidence of cowboys in Westerns. The clouds of smoke wafting from the incessant stoking of embers carry with them the heady fragrance of grilled meat that rises like a lasso hooking unsuspecting passersby. The noose tightens as you make a meek and futile attempt of resisting, before giving in to the delicious fate that awaits.

I was warned of this path paved with temptation, so I ignored the initial distractions and continued with the resolve of Indiana Jones retrieving the Holy Grail. Yes! Imran’s at Khayyam Chowk is exactly that – The Holy Grail of Kashmiri Tujj!

“Tujj?” is the ‘open sesame’ to this cave. The sliding door of the tacky facade opened to a smallish cabin packed with as many tables as it could hold, with just enough space between them for the servers to navigate the maze like Pac-Man.

I sat at the only vacant table as a smiling waiter approached me. “Kebab aur Lavasa”, I said trying to muster the matter-of-fact tone of a seasoned Tujj connoisseur. Inside I was giggling like a child about to open his birthday present, knowing only too well the surprise the parcel held.

The Kashmiri Kebab is nothing like the mutton seekh kabab most of us are used to. Not only is the flavouring distinctly Kashmiri, but the texture is also unique with a springy chew and bite. Pounding of the meat with a good amount of lamb fat makes it extremely pliable and when expertly made, it bends elegantly like a pair of nunchucks in the hands of a Tai Chi master (as seen in the picture).

It is served with an array of over half a dozen chutneys and condiments, ranging from the sharp and pickley to the rich/mellow and creamy. The accompanying Lavas is slightly chewy and provides the perfect foil for the rotisserie meats.

I hastily took a picture to get the social media pleasantries out of the way and proceeded to make light work of the ‘Kebaba’. Only when I looked up to place my next order did I notice what a motley bunch I was surrounded by! A group of very vocal and visibly happy migrant labourers sat at the far end. In another corner, a doting uncle was treating his nephews to their favourite Tujj. Locals seemed to whiz in and out of the place, not letting small talk distract them from the job at hand, using torn pieces of Lavasa like a mitten to pinch chunks of smoking hot meat straight off the skewers. I should have stuck out like a sore thumb, and I was afraid I would. But this is the most comfortable and welcomed I have felt amongst complete strangers.

“Fish lenge, Sir?”, asked my smiling server, anticipating a no for an answer. “Haan” I replied. “Aur ek mutton Tujj bhi laiyega please”, I added, certain that the fish would be average at best.

The grilled fish that arrived looked covered in a thin batteresque crust, reiterating my doubts. I reached for my phone, only to realise that the battery was drained of all the juice and it had died on me.

As I took the first trepidatious bite, all my doubts and reservations vanished into thin air as I was transported to cloud nine. A paper-thin crust, perfect seasoning, brilliantly balanced flavouring with just the right amount of ground cumin earthing the ethereally light, clean taste, with no trace of any fishiness whatsoever (I later learnt it was a freshwater fish from the local water bodies in and around Srinagar). And the cuisson on the fish was sublime. The meat; tender and juicy. The kind of juicy Blumenthal would flaunt, squeezing the succulent fish as juices gushed out of the glistening flesh. And all this achieved on an open, coal-fired grill when the difference between perfectly cooked and dead is a few seconds.

By now I wanted to shoot a similar video and was furious with myself for not having charged my phone. I felt like Gogol from Mira Nair’s cinematic adaptation of Jhumpa Lahiri’s ‘The Namesake’, where Ashoke walks little Gogol to the end of a pier, only to discover that he has left the camera in the car.
Maybe this was the universe telling me it was a moment too special to be diluted or even contaminated by the superficiality of clicking pictures. “All this way and no picture?” “You will have to just remember it then”. “How long will I have to remember it?”.
“Remember it always! Remember…that you and I made this journey to a place from where there was nowhere else to go.”

PS – For the records, after the epiphanic Gaad (fish in Kashmiri), I polished a plate of exquisite Lamb Tujj, before ‘riding off into the sunset’.

Candy, Revadi aur Ber!

Desserts, Frozen Desserts, Modern Indian

Peach Popsicle/ Ice Lolly, Black and White Sesame Seed Meringue and Spiced Jujube Salt.

Every year when school reopened after the Diwali holidays, the huge playground, an enviable feature on the sprawling campus was invaded and encroached upon by wild grass. During the recess, the towering grass would bully us into retreating to some corner of the field to finish our lunch boxes.

With our place in the sun hijacked, we were forced to play in the small clearing between the primary and secondary section buildings, while huge swarms of red dragonflies hovered over us. In the background, our resident Maali (Gardener), Madhu and his kin would relentlessly sickle the grass, clearing one small patch at a time. We kids would be quick to reclaim and assert authority over the sheared patches. The smell of freshly mowed grass was so pronounced that I could almost taste the herbaceous, chlorophylley (Is that even a word?!?!? Well, now it is!) bitter scent hanging in the air.

Being deprived of play time and not being able to relish food can be very unsettling for a kid. And in an attempt to escape it we found comfort in the candy cart whose appearance outside the school gate coincided with the last bell.

Once a week, or whenever our meagre pocket money allowed, we would splurge on an ice candy. After the indulgence, we would be left with just enough money to buy some Bor/Ber (Jujubes). The sweet and sour berries rolled in crystals of rock salt would keep us company as we walked home. On the rare occasion, we would take a pit stop for some Revadi (sesame seed praline/brittle).

The sights, the colours and the flavours, all came together organically to make this dessert course. The ‘Candy’ is a Peach Popsicle. I wanted some brightness and sunshine on the plate to represent the pleasant, sunny, carefree afternoons. I made Revadi Meringue with both white and black sesame seeds and it balanced the sweetness of the peaches with its deep, nutty and earthy flavour and colour. I dehydrated the Ber/Bor and used it in a spiced salt as an exciting component on the plate. Lastly, the peppery, ever so mild but enchanting bitterness of the Bramhi Gel brought alive the fragrance of freshly mowed grass.

Here’s the recipe

Serves 6

Preparation Time : 1 Hour

Cooking Time : 2 Hours (Plus the time required to freeze and set the popsicles)

For the Peach Popsicles

Ingredients:

4 Large Peaches

3/4 Cup Sugar

Water for making the syrup.

Making the Peach Popsicles:

1. Halve the peaches and remove the stones.

2. Take the sugar in a sauce pan, add 3 cups of water, mix well and bring to a boil.

3. Once the simple sugar syrup comes to a boil, lower the flame, reduce to a gentle simmer and place the peach halves, skin side down in it.

4. After cooking for 5-10 mins, turn the peaches.

5. Pinch the papery skin and pull it off. The gentle poaching softens the peaches and loosens the skin, causing it to shrivel and come off easily.

6. Continue to cook for another 5-10 mins or till the peaches turn visibly soft.

7. Take the pan off the heat.

8. Let the peaches sit, cool, further soften and steep in the sugar syrup.

9. Once completely cooled, blend the peaches along with all the syrup into a smooth coulis.

10. Pass through a fine sieve to get rid of any lumps and/or fruit fibres.

11. Pour in the smooth peach coulis into popsicle moulds and freeze overnight.

Tips and Tricks:

1. Limiting the use of water and making a pulpy coulis results in a smooth, satiny product with a texture similar to a sorbet, without the tedious and cumbersome churning.

2. You need to have enough syrup in the pan to just about immerse the halved peaches.

3. If you don’t have popsicle moulds, you can line and seal the base of a cookie cutter/food ring with aluminium foil, pour the peach coulis, insert a popsicle stick and freeze. The thick consistency of the coulis will ensure that the stick stands and stays in place during the freezing. This is exactly how I made it.

For the Revadi Meringue

Ingredients:

Whites of 3 Eggs

3/4 Cup Superfine/Powdered Sugar

Salt (A small Pinch) or Lime/Lemon Juice (A Few Drops)

Making the Revadi Meringue:

1. Dry roast the black and white sesame seeds separately on a low flame, till they release their essential oils and a nutty aroma. Once toasted, set aside to cool.

2. Once cooled, grind into a coarse powder.

3. For making the meringue, place the egg whites in a clean glass or stainless steel bowl.

4. Add a pinch of salt or a few drops of lime/lemon juice to the egg whites.

5. Whip the egg whites with a hand mixer, starting with medium and going up to high speed.

6. When the egg whites start holding their shape, add 3/4th of the sugar and keep whipping till the whites form stiff peaks. The meringue should be glossy and shiny.

7. Now gently fold in the remaining sugar into the meringue using a spatula. Use light hands and be extremely gentle.

8. Divide the meringue into two equal portions.

9. Spread the meringue on a parchment paper or a silicon baking sheet with the help of a flexible silicon/rubber spatula.

10. Spread the meringue in an even layer of 3-4 mm thickness. Flatten and smooth out the surface.

11. You could use two separate parchment/silicon sheets to spread the two portions or you may spread them a few inches apart on the same sheet.

12. Dust the powdered black sesame seeds on one layer and the white ones on the other layer of meringue.

13. Bake in a preheated oven at 160 Degree Celsius for about 1 1/2 hour, or till the meringue sheets dry out and crisp up.

14. Switch off the oven and let the meringue dry out and cool completely in the oven with the oven door slightly ajar.

15. Once the meringue has cooled completely, remove from the oven, break into shards and store in an airtight container till the time you are ready to plate and use them.

Tips and Tricks:

1. Make sure the mixing bowl is completely dry and clean. It is critical to having a good and stable product. Even a drop of water could prevent the meringue from fluffing up and ruin it.

2. Adding a pinch of salt or some lime/lemon juice helps stabilise and make a clear and white meringue.

3. Folding in some of the sugar into the meringue helps make it light and delicate.

4. The meringue shards could make for a delicious teatime snack. You could pipe the meringue into interesting shapes and turn them into sesame meringue kisses or cookies. This base recipe for meringue is extremely versatile and can be infused with any flavour of your choice.

5. Do not grind the sesame seeds into a fine powder. The coarseness provides a lovely texture in contrast to the melt-in-the-mouth baked meringue.

6. The meringues could be used to garnish other desserts or simply crumbled over your favourite ice cream as a delightful textural element.

For the Ber/Bor Churan (Jujube/ Chinese Date Spiced Salt)

Ingredients:

3/4 Cup Dried Ber/Bor/Jujube/ Chinese Dates (Deseeded and roughly chopped in small pieces)

1 Tsp Sugar

1/2 Tsp Himalayan Pink Salt

1/4 Tsp Black Peppercorns

1/4 Tsp Red Chilli Powder

1/4 Tsp Roasted Cumin

Making the Churan/ Spiced Salt:

1. Dehydrate the pieces of dried Ber/Bor/Jujube/Chinese Dates in a preheated oven on the lowest temperature setting for an hour, moving the pieces every 15 minutes.

2. Remove the dehydrated pieces from the oven, cool and blitz into a fine powder with the other ingredients.

3. Store this Churan (Spiced Salt) in an airtight container.

Tips and Tricks:

1. The Ber pieces need to dry out and turn brittle in order to be pulverised into a fine powder. Even the slightest residual moisture can prevent this and turn the Churan lumpy. Low and slow drying in the oven does the trick.

2. If you don’t have an oven, you can still dehydrate the Ber pieces in a pan over a low flame. Keep tossing the pieces and taking it off the heat occasionally to prevent it from burning and becoming bitter.

3. The Churan can be used as a taste-maker to enhance the flavour of your food. It can be used in salad dressings as a compound salt or sprinkled over fruits like Chaat Masala. You could add it to Sherbets, cocktails and mocktails as a flavour booster.

For The Brahmi Gel

Ingredients:

12-15 Bramhi Leaves

100 ml Water

1 Tsp Powdered Sugar

2 Gms Carrageenan

Making The Bramhi Gel:

1. Blend the Bramhi leaves with the water.

2. Pass through a fine strainer.

3. Take a few spoonfuls of the Bramhi juice and mix in the Carrageenan. Set aside.

4. Stir the sugar into the remaining Bramhi juice.

5. Place on a low flame and bring to a boil.

6. Reduce to a simmer and now pour in the Carrageenan mixed juice.

7. Whisk rapidly to get rid of any lumps and disperse the carrageenan evenly.

8. Bring the juice to a boil.

9. Take off the heat and keep stirring and whisking rapidly to cool the juice but prevent it from setting.

10. Pour into a shallow baking dish, plate or any mould of your choice.

11. Refrigerate to cool and set the jelly.

12. Cut the set jelly into the desired shape and serve with the other components.

Tips and Tricks:

1. You want the Gel to have the peppery taste and mild bitterness of the Bramhi leaves. Resist the temptation to add too much sugar and sweeten the gel. It needs just enough sweetness running through it to make it dessert-friendly.

2. Constant whisking ensures no lumps are formed and that the Carrageenan is mixed well in the juice. The rapid whisking may sometimes lead to formation of air bubbles and mild frothing. Pass the mix through a fine sieve before pouring into moulds to get rid of the bubbles.

** The dessert has multiple components but the recipes are fuss free and easy to execute. Planning the prep and cooking is the key to smooth execution. You could use fresh Basil or Mint leaves or any other sweet tasting herb of your choice in case Bramhi leaves are not available.

‘Essence of Crab’, Coconut and Water Chestnut Velouté.

Seafood, Soups

The coconut sprout, or as I like to call it, the coconut truffle; a more befitting name for this rare delicacy, is the tender shoot of the coconut. Much like there’s no telling which oyster holds a precious pearl, one cannot guess which coconut hides this exotic treasure. Unless, of course, the sprout has grown into a shoot and broken out of the tough shell. Even in that case, one cannot predict at what stage of development the sprout is. Often, one cracks open the nut to the disappointing discovery that the sprout is only a tiny, pea-sized node. Every time I crack a coconut I am secretly hoping and desperately praying for a sprouted one.

So, purely by chance when I found a good-sized coconut truffle, I resisted the temptation to gobble it down as is and saved it to be used in a recipe. Now, the coconut truffle is a delicate ingredient. The basal node or stalk tastes like the most clean, concentrated, pure essence of coconut. The bulb with an intricate network of raised venation on it’s surface has a more subtle and delicate flavour with a spongy, velvety texture and the lightness of spun wool. The most appealing feature though, is the funky, mildly acidic, musty umami aftertaste reminiscent of sweet palm toddy.

Any cooking will rob it of its sublime flavour and destroy the ethereal texture. Having struck gold, I did not want to rush with things. The idea had sprouted and I decided to nurture the ‘sprout’ and wait for it to blossom.

The next food memory came peeping from amidst magnanimous coconut palms that surround our ancestral home in Murdeshwar. The name Murdeshwar has it’s origin in mythology as one of the places where a piece of the Shivlinga landed. The Murdeshwar Devasthan (Temple) sits atop a picturesque hill which extends into the vast Arabian sea. Before the tourism boom hit, Murdeshwar was a quiet coastal village with pristine, virgin beaches.

I was no older than seven or eight. We were visiting family in Murdeshwar. One evening, my dad took us out for a walk by the beach. We ended the stroll by hiking up the hill and sat on the edge overlooking the rocky cliff. While the other kids got busy collecting pebbles to build castles out of or for simply throwing them in the sea below, my Dad exclaimed and pointed out at something on the rugged shore.

Realising I was the only one paying attention and showing interest, he stood behind me and pointed to what was a Godzilla of a crab on a giant boulder. It had brilliant red claws and shimmering, granite black shell. It stubbornly held on to the rock as the crashing waves threatened to wash it down into the dark abyss below. In the brief window that it got when the water retreated and before the next towering way came crashing down, the crab quickly covered some ground inching closer to its destination. Then I saw another one on the adjoining rock. Then one more, making it’s way through the crevices. I spent the rest of the evening spotting crabs while Dad kept count. Besides the spectacular setting, what’s vivid in my mind is Dad’s beaming smile at seeing his child connect with this world in such an intimate and organic manner. A world he had to leave behind but which still lived in him. I knew I had to celebrate this memory and Crab was going to be the hero of the dish.

On a casual visit to the local market, I stumbled upon the final core ingredient; water chestnuts. I had seen vendors with baskets of this neatly arranged strange-looking, seasonal aquatic vegetable, but this was the first time I sampled one and was convinced beyond doubt that this crunchy nut had to feature in the dish. The search had ended and all that remained was to put the dish together.

I made an ‘Essence of Crab’ Velouté enriched with coconut cream, served with a fresh handmade pasta component in the form of crab meat and water chestnut tortellini sprinkled with finely chopped chives.

The light, oceany flavours need a grounding element. Thinly sliced crispy chip of homemade caraway seed baguette provided a textural contrast with earthy notes. Torched pineapple brought some tropical fruity flavours that resonate beautifully with the sweetness of the coconut while adding a mystical smoky profile. Slivers of celery stalk provide a fragrant peppery sharpness. All of these with dainty dill leaves and briney capers made for a stellar line up of garnishes. The delicate, cottony coconut truffle gave wings to the whole plating.

The result was rather impressive. With classic techniques extended and applied to familiar flavours to weave a dish around some special ingredients and warm memories.

What follows is the recipe for the ‘Essence of Crab’ and Water Chestnut Velouté.

Serves : 5-6

Preparation Time : 1 Hour

Cooking Time : 20 Mins

Ingredients :

For the Crab Stock

Legs of 4 mud crabs (washed, scrubbed clean and cracked to extract flavour)

Celery Stalks 2 (Roughly chopped)

Carrot 1 (Roughly Diced)

Onion 1 (Roughly Diced)

Fresh/Dried Bay Leaves 2

Black Peppercorns 1 Tsp

Sweet/Unsalted Butter 1 Tbsp

Fennel (Roughly Chopped) 1 large petal

Making the Crab Stock

Melt the butter in a deep stock pot.
Add the chopped vegetables and sweat on a low flame without colouring.
After the mirepoix softens, add the peppercorns and bay leaves and sauté for a while.
Add the crab legs and saute till they turn a deep reddish orange.
Add about a litre and half of cold water. Enough to cover the ingredients and bring to a boil.
Once the water boils, turn it to a low simmer and cook for 30-45 minutes.
Keep skimming any impurities that may rise to the surface.
Pass through a sieve lined with a muslin cloth to get a clear, flavourful crab stock.

For the Velouté

Finely Chopped Garlic 1 tsp

Finely Chopped Shallots/ White Onions 2 (Small)

Sweet/Unsalted Butter 1 1/2 Tbsp

Water Chestnut Flour 1 Tbsp

Coconut Cream ½ Cup

Thyme 3-4 Sprigs

White Pepper Powder 1/2 Tsp

Salt for seasoning

Making the Velouté Soup

Melt the butter in a sauce pan.
Add the minced garlic and briefly sauté on a low flame.
Add the finely chopped shallots followed by the thyme and sweat without colouring.
Once softened, add the water chestnut flour and sauté till in releases a nutty aroma and takes on a golden colour.
You have the blond roux infused with garlic and shallots. This forms the base of the velouté.
Pour in the crab stock (approximately 1 litre) and bring to a boil.
Once it boils, turn to a low simmer and cook for 10 minutes.
Strain the liquid through a fine sieve. Gently press to extract flavour. Discard the aromats and the herb. These have served their purpose.
Reheat the strained soup base and bring to boil.
Add the coconut cream and stir to mix well.
Cook briefly while stirring. Do not boil.
Season with salt and flavour with freshly ground white pepper powder.

For the Garnish

Crab Meat 1 Cup.
Water Chestnuts (small dice) ½ Cup.
Baguette croutons (small cubes).
Finely chopped chives.
Small dices of charred pineapple.
Slivers of celery stalk.
Capers.

Tips and Tricks

The ‘Essence of Crab’ comes from a well-made crab stock. Although the process for making one is pretty simple and straightforward, it requires time and good ingredients. The velouté should taste like a mouthful of sea with the sweetness of crab. The final result is largely dependent on the stock. So, please give it the patience and attention it deserves and you will be amply rewarded with flavour.
For the garnish, just spoon some crab meat, finely diced tender water chestnuts, add some charred cubes of pineapple and croutons for texture with the other suggested garnishes. These are just a few I used. You could go as creative or simple with the garnishes as you desire. Herb oils, chilli oil, walnuts, scallions, julienne of bell peppers, lime/orange zest or simply a drizzle of extra virgin olive oil and even crispy julienne of ginger are some other ideas. Since the velouté is delicate and subtle in character, the only care to be taken is that the garnishes should preferably be dainty, complimentary in flavour and not overpowering.
This base recipe for a velouté can be used with other seafood or even white meat. If you like, wine could be added after sweating the mirepoix for the stock. You would have to bring it to a boil and cook out the alcohol before adding the water.
You could go classic and use heavy cream instead of the coconut cream. The coconut keeps it light and pairs brilliantly with the crab meat and other tropical components I have used.
Feel free to experiment with different flours and starches to make the blond roux.
Clean the mud crabs thoroughly. They are called mud crabs for a reason. You may have to scrub them under running water to get rid of stubborn grime.
Using unsalted butter gives you more control over the seasoning.

Dali Thoy – A Dal worthy of a Culinary Nobel.

Saraswat Cuisine

Although I was initially reluctant about starting a blog, I was absolutely clear and certain that if I ever did, my first post would be about Dali Thoy (The Saraswat version of Dal).

There probably isn’t any other preparation as fundamental and staple in Indian Cuisine as a Dal. It is prepared and relished in different forms in various regional streams of cooking. The lentil used, the method of cooking, the accompaniment it is served with may vary, but it is omnipresent across sub-cuisines of the land.

Dali Thoy is the quintessential Saraswat Dal epitomising the delicate balance of robustness of flavour and refinement of thought in Saraswat Cuisine. Any Saraswat worth his or her salt would melt, go weak in the knees and break into a sonnet at the mere mention of Dali Thoy and I am no exception. This is one Dal common to both,the Goud Saraswat and the Chitrapur Saraswat schools.It gives me immense joy to introduce you to this gem from my Mother Cuisine.

What’s especially fascinating about this particular recipe is that it has none of the fanfare one typically associates with a decadent Dal. No cumin-garlic Tadka, no slow cooking for hours, no butter or dairy in any form and yet, what you get is a dreamy, creamy Dal.

Although there could be variations and subtle differences, the base recipe remains the same. Which is essentially Tuar/Toor/Arhar Dal (split pigeon peas) cooked with ginger and green chillies, perfectly seasoned and finished with a tempering.

The addition of ginger and green chillies at the pressure cooking stage ensures a constant and consistent hum of the aromats and a not a random, sporadic burst of flavour. Some households may use turmeric. We don’t. The pale yellow colour sets it apart and is the hallmark of Dali Thoy. Freshly grated coconut provides texture and sweetness, and finely chopped coriander leaves lend a fresh herbaceous burst.

The magic of a good Thoy lies as much in the Phanna (tempering) as it does in the lentil base. It has to be coconut oil! This is indispensable and there are no substitutes. A good quality coconut oil is paramount to achieving the distinct fragrance and nuttiness.

The savoury pop of the mustard seeds, the aroma of the curry leaves, the smoky spice of the dried red chillies and just the right amount of Hing (Asafoetida) come together in harmonious unison to create a well-rounded tempering.

Dali Thoy is an integral part of a traditional Saraswat meal. You will find it on every menu, from weddings, festive celebrations, religious ceremonies to a comforting regular, everyday meal.

It is very much at home in a simple, soul-satisfying vegetarian spread and owing to the hugely flavourful base, it can hold its own when paired with a sizzling seafood side (more on this Saraswat passion cum obsession later). Ample testimony to just how versatile it is.

I truly believe that if there ever was a food equivalent of the Nobel Prize, the genius who invented Dali Thoy would surely be deserving of The Culinary Nobel.

I have had many versions over the years but our heirloom recipe that Aammaa makes, remains my favourite.

This is how to make Dali Thoy

Serves: 4-6

Preparation time : 10 minutes.

Cooking Time : 20 minutes.

Ingredients :

Tuar/Toor/Arhar Dal (Split Pigeon Peas) 1 Cup
Ginger 2 inch piece
Green Chillies 3-4
Coconut Oil 2 Tbsps
Mustard Seeds 1 Tsp
Curry Leaves 10-15
Dried Red Chillies 3-4
Asafoetida ¼ Tsp
Freshly grated coconut 2 Tbsps
Finely Chopped Coriander Leaves
Salt for seasoning

Cooking Dali Thoy

1. Wash the Tuar Dal, add the bashed ginger, break in the green chillies and pressure cook with 2 1/2 cups water till the lentils turn soft and mashable.
2. Once cooked, place the pot on the flame, add enough water to adjust the consistency and bring to a boil.
3. Season with salt.
4. Add the freshly grated/scraped coconut and finely chopped coriander, mix and cook briefly.
5. To make the tempering; heat the coconut oil in a tempering pan and add the mustard seeds.
6. Once the mustard seeds crackle, add the curry leaves.
7. Followed by broken dried red chillies.
8. And finally, the asafoetida.
9. Take the Dal off the heat and pour in the tempering.
10. Immediately cover with a lid to avoid loss of flavour and fragrance of the tempering and to ensure it infuses the Thoy.
11. Serve piping hot with steamed white rice and a suitable side of your choice.

Tips and Tricks:

1. The acid test of a well-made Dali Thoy is that when you spoon it over a bed of rice, it shouldn’t filter and separate the lentils from the watery broth. It should be one, thick, homogeneous, creamy mix.
2. Use the best quality coconut oil for the tempering. Would be great if you can get your hands on some cold-pressed, virgin coconut oil.
3. Cooking it in an earthen pot (like I have done here) imparts an endearing aroma and taste. If you take it a level up and cook it on wood fire or embers, please invite me for lunch.
4. A siesta is mandatory after Dali Thoy. Don’t drink and drive (Yes! you WILL drink the Dal)or operate heavy machinery post an indulgent Dali Thoy meal.