Araithavitta Sambar and Aloo Curry

This meal means Sunday afternoon lunch at my childhood home - I am magically transported to the peach dining room in that beautiful and roomy house, with my beloved late ammamma (mother's mother) grudgingly accepting compliments.

These days cooking is seen and accepted as a creative outlet for the cook, and so compliments are almost expected. In my grandma's and my ma's days, cooking was part of the mother/wife's "duty". No other concept is so capable of leaching the joy out of any activity. If my generation has challenged any concept, it is this.

And what rewards it has brought us, atleast in the kitchen. Freed from that dreaded concept, Indian women and men seem to be passionately dishing out ever more complicated meals. I love it.

This sambar is a special sambar, more complicated than the everyday staple of Tamil kitchens. The masala is ground fresh, essentially a fresh version of sambar powder with coconut. The recipe is my Amma's (mother's), from a collection of recipes she wrote down for me from memory and from 'Samaithu Paar'. Samaithu Paar is a classic Tamil cookbook written by Meenakshi Ammal and has remained a go-to reference book for three generations now. It makes a quaint and surprisingly useful read, much like the Fannie Farmer's cookbook so beloved of Americans.

The aloo curry is fantastically simple and yum, my soul-food. I guess the right way to spell this "curry" is "kari", the Tamil root of the English word. In Tamil, and this will surprise many Indians also, "kari" means a dry saute like this dish. It specifically does not mean a dish with a gravy. I would love to read a detailed etymology of the word "curry", how it transformed from a Tamil dry vegetable dish to, pretty much, the whole of Indian cuisine.

Araithavitta Sambar

Ingredients

2 medium onions or a bunch of tiny purple skinned shallots
lime sized ball of tamarind
3/4 cup of toor/arhar dal (toram parippu)
mustard seeds
curry/kari leaves
turmeric powder
hing/asafetida
small lump of jaggery (optional)

dried red chillies - 2 upwards
1 teaspoon channa dal
1.5 teaspoon coriander seeds


Method

Cook the toor dal with water and turmeric. Get over the fear of the whistle and use a pressure cooker. It will open a whole new world to you. When it is thoroughly cooked, mash it to a paste. The classic sign of a bad sambar is distinguishable grains of dal.

Put the tamarind in a bowl with a cup of water and zap in the microwave for a minute.

Dry roast the red chillies, channa dal and coriander seeds till fragrant. Grind fine with the coconut.

Peel and chop the onions into large chunks. If you are using the shallots, good luck peeling them and leave them whole. Heat oil in a pan and add onions to it.

The tamarind should have softened by now, if you followed the order of steps above. The eventual aim is to get the pulp of the fruit out without the stingy parts and the seeds. This is traditionally accomplished by squishing with the fingers. I have used a small whisk occasionally. Squish away and reserve.

Once the onions have lost the raw pungent smell and have changed colour a bit, add the tamarind pulp, hopefully without the fibrous parts. If I am feeling particularly persnickety, I use a small sieve instead of my fingers to strain the pulp. Add more water to the tamarind and repeat the process. Add salt, and some sambar powder if you feel your paste is not potent enough. Let it cook for about 10 minutes, covered and at a slow boil. Tamarind needs to be cooked and turns cloudy and thicker when it is. Also, ofcourse, crunchy onions have no place in any sambar.

Once the onions and tamarind are done, add the coconut paste and mished dal. Salt generously and stir to combine. If you like a faint sweetness to your sambar, add the jaggery. Let if bubble away gently uncovered for about 15 minutes or so. Taste and adjust seasoning. You ideally do not want to make any changes after this. Turn off the heat.

Now comes the truly magical part of Tamil cooking - the talichhu-kottal or taalimpu or tadka or tempering. I really sometimes wonder who came up with it and what a culinary genius that person was. It fills the kitchen with a nutty herbal aroma and lifts any dish to a new dimension. Asafetida contributes greatly to this.

Heat about a teaspoon of oil or even better ghee to a small pan. Add about a teaspoon of mustard seeds and sprinkling of asafetida. Leave it be till the mustard seeds start to splutter. Uncooked, unpopped mustard seeds taste unpleasantly bitter. Wait patiently till the spluttering reaches a crescendo. Add the curry leaves and swirl. Again, wait till the spluttering seems to die down. Another way of knowing the mustard seeds are done is that they change colour from black to greyish. Pour the tempering into the sambar, magically transforming it.

Serve piping hot with soft rice and ghee.

Aloo Curry

Ingredients

waxy potatoes - like Idaho, floury ones fall apart
turmeric
chilli powder
mustard seeds
asafetida

Method

Boil the potatoes until completely cooked. Peel and cut into large chunks.

In a flat non-stick pan, heat a tablespoon or so of oil. Add the asafetida and mustard seeds. Wait till the spluttering reaches a crescendo and begins to die down. Add half a teaspoon of turmeric and as much chilli powder as you like to the oil. Quickly add the potatoes, salt and toss to combine. Try not to use a ladle which may break up the soft potatoes.

Spread the potatoes out and let them sit at medium low heat till the bottom gets golden crusty brown. Toss and repeat. You can pretty much let them go till they are browned to your satisfaction, or you are ready to eat.

Enjoy or should I say Yen-Jaaaay.