Koraishutir Kochuri (Puris stuffed with peas)

Always a bride never the bridesmaid

Recently, I was watching the movie 27 dresses. I know it is an old movie. I am way behind on the hollywood and bollywood listings. The only time there is a massive update to the list is on my trips to india. In the age of 50inch tvs and multiplexes, majority of my movie watching experience is a 10inch screen in a pressurised cabin 30000 feet in air. I end up watching about 3 sometimes 4 time,technology and eyesight permitting. I decided make my veiwing experience better and enrolled in an online streaming website. Even with my faltering Virgin active (that was one failed branding exercise!!) braodband..the website worked! I had to watch some five hours worth of content to allow me a month’s free trial.So I diligently set about doing just that. Selected romance and more so chick flicks (did you know this is a bonafied category of its own) and set about watching one every day. What I came to realise was, I may have gained years, muffin waist and a few grey hairs, but I had certainly not lost the heart of a 16 year old. I can still get misty eyed at a common girl being courted by a prince, swoon over Mr Darcy and Mr Rochester and sigh over the ball gowns and dresses. The 27 dresses in the movie were hedious..a sort of allegory to the unplesant aspect of being

a bridesmaid one time too often. It must so tiresome. Times of India called Rahul Dravid ‘always a bridesmaid ..never the bride’. It was on some tour probably australian, where his test hundreds where trumphed by Sachin’s or ganguly’s. I am pitiful at cricket stats.

But I digress..i actually started with a digression (is there such a word??).

I was actually eating matar paneer while watching this, and I thought..have I ever eaten any item where matar (peas) was the bride not the bridesmaid. What I mean is where it is not aloo matar, matar paneer, methi matar malai...anything where the peas held their own and did not play second fiddle to the aloos, paneers and other veggies.

Try this for yourself. I could come up with two things only. Koraishutir kochuri and nimona. Nimona is a sort of curry made from fresh peas. I had a few times during my hostel days and I could not recall how it tasted. But koraishutir Kochuri...now there was something which got the tastebuds tingling. Koraishuti is essentially what bengalis call peas. Google failed me, when I tried to find out why such a big name for a small item?

Kochuri is any fluffed stuffed fried bread. So we are talking about a fulffed, stuffed fried bread filled with peas. Sounds like a rattle :-) ..yet is is awesum. One of the things you should have if you feel like indulging. On my bi-annual home visits during graduation this was an item which topped the to-eat list. Ma made it at least twice if not more. I loved it best with very (and I mean very) garlicky coriander chutney. Just coriander/garlic/ green chillies and lime juice with salt. Yummmm. It saved ma time to cook an accompanying veggie so I would get dollops of this chutney. The kochuris are not big ones. Broken in half they can consumed in two mouthfuls each. I would use it to enclose a big portion of Chatni and savour the taste. I am very good at chewing my morsels and I think I do it because of this fascination for food. I probably want to taste and savour the components before it goes down the pit of my stomach.

But those were the days when one did not think about the cosnequences of refined flour, deep frying or binge eating. I had not forgotten this kochuri and did try to make it on my own a couple of times. But the result was a FLAT bread with stuffing dislodged and leaking oil. I lost patience on my third attempt and ended up eating the stuffing as side dish and using the dough for making nimkis(which did not turn out well because of the wrong amount of moyan-crispiness)

So when ma was visting this time, I put this high on her to-cook list with an additional note that it should be cooked on a weekend to allow proper knowledge transfer.

She had a trick up her sleeve, the way that all mothers do. It was sprinkling of roasted and then grounded fennel,pepper and ajwain. It changed the equations of the taste from linear to quadratic.

 Another trick that I learnt was not to be greedy and stuff a lot of peas mixture, It has to be just the a  teaspoonful at a time. Also when rolling out the kochuri use a little bit of oil to avoid them sticking on the rolling pin.

All in all it turned out quiet a feast. With the pungency of garlic in the chutney vying for attention against the strong flavour of hing, it is a dance drama in every muthful.

One very good thing is that you can do the preparation on large scale and then store away the mixture and the dough in fridge. It can cherished over 2-3 days.

Here goes the recipe then.

Ingredients

For the Peas Mix

2 cups of peas (I blitz the frozen ones with some water in the microwave)

½ tsp asoeftida (hing)

3 green chillies

For Roasted powder

½ tsp cumin seeds

½ tsp fennel seeds (saunf)

½ tsp ajwain

2-3 pods of whole black pepper

salt to taste (for the filling)

For dough

3 cups of white flour (Maida)

3 tbsp of any oil

¼  tsp of salt

Oil for frying

Add the salt and oil to the flour and crunch it in hour hands to ensure the oil is spread throughout the flour. Add enough (a whole thesis can be written on the amount of water required for dough!!) luke warm water and make this into a dough. Cover with a damp cloth and let it rest while you get on with the preparation for the mix.

Add the defrosted peas with the green chillies into a food processor. If you do not have a food processor...you are joking right? Who does not have one in these days?..well I did not...till a year ago. The workaround is to crush the peas with something, a small bowl, the pestel mortar...although you will not get the smooth blend we are looking for. Whatever you use, do not add any water. The only water should come from the peas. Mix the peas with green chillies.

In a broad utensil add the oil and when it is warm add the asafoetida. Quickly spoon the mix into this. Now comes the patience part. You have to stir the mixture every now and then, depending on how good is the pan( which calims to be non-stick is). Slowly the moisture in the mix will vapourise and the mix will turn from a fresh green colour to a darker shade. On a medium flame it took me 15 minutes for this quantity of paste. If you are making more, then it would proportionally increase.

Once the mositure is all gone, you can add the salt and grounded powder (metioned in the ingredients- they should be lightly roasted and then ground to a fine powder.

If you need to adjust the hot quotient, add chilli powder at this stage.

Let the mixture cool.

Add enough oil in a deep frying vessel to at least cover one kochuri at a time. Let it heat up before you start rolling out the kochuris.

Divide the dough into calls the size of rasogulla, or lemons (the size we get in india). Slightly roll them out to flatten them and make into disks the size of 3cm dia. Spoon in little of the mixture, about ½  teaspoon into the middle and close the edges. Make sure nothing is coming out of the joint. Slightly massage it in your hands to spread the mix. Start rolling it out now, with a very light hand so the misture is not pushed out with vengence. Add a touch of oil if the dough starts sticking to the rolling pin. The 3cm dia should at least go upto 6cm. You know it is not rolled out properly if you can feel the dough thick at places.  And you know you should leave it alone, if you start seeing the greenish tinge appearing below the dough layer...because that means the mix might come out. The first one will never puff up. Call it what you will, but it is similar to my ‘Laws of Dosa’ (another day about this- but in nutshell the first dosa will always stick to the tava). But preserve and learn and you will be rewarded

Do not overcook it, take the kochuris out of the oil as soon as you see bubbles on the surface of the it.

Well that is all there is to it, as Forrest Gump said. Easy said than done!

Kabuliwala & Aalo Kabli (Potato Chaat)

“Kabuliwala, O kabuliwala, tomar jholae ki ache? (what is in your bag)”, asked Mini

“ ete to ekta hathi ache (there is an elephant in here)”, replied the kabuliwala with a smile.

Kabuliwala, is a short story by Rabindranth Thakur. Written in a simple language it was my introudction to the vast world of Rabindranath Thakur’s literature.  Aptly it was narrated by my father, because it is the story of a father more than a little girl. Mini is the small girl who befriends a kabuliwala (Rehmat) selling his dry fuits in the lanes of Calcutta. Sometime later Rehmat is arrested on charge of attacking a debtor and is sent to jail. The day he is released,  Mini is getting married. I would not be a spoil sport by revealing all of it. Although it is not a particularly sad story, it felt sad to me. There are not many kids of my generation who can claim to have bedtime stories from their father.But I have had the pleasure.

Used to the five day week syndrome of the 21^st century, after a six day week, I would not have the energy to even stammer. My father used the Sunday afternoons to read to us from nonte phonte, batul de great, abol tabol, stories from sukhtara and sometimes from his memories. He would doze off in between and start talking something about work. I thought it really funny and would relate that everyone in house who would listen how Baba started talking about a big tree girth and bessel area in midst of a ghost story.

Kabuliwala was shared on one such afternoon. While he dozed off I stayed awake thinking not about the girl but kabuliwala. How lonely he must be in a different country away from all whom he loved, learning new language, learning new practices, all because he had to earn money to support his family. It is not fair to compare him and me. I am comfortably off with a much loving husband(inspite of my efforts to test his patience) living a good life in a foreign land,  but in the heart of the matter lies distances. When life trudges along in its routine, there is nothing much, but on odd occasions one feels a sudden yearning to be back and within easy reach of what has been home for 25 years of existence. It is also an yearning for the quiet afternoons spent listening to stories with Baba’s arm for a pillow. And also for the innocence which allowed feelings of tenderness. In my bid to be strong there seems to be a loss of the appreciation of  feelings.

Much much later I saw the movie made in hindi by Bimal roy and bengali by Tapan Sinha. Balraj Sahni’s potrayal was heart wrenching, so was the song ‘ae mere pyare watan’ by manna dey.

I always thought of this story kabuliwala when I heard the word kabuli channa. Don’t ask why. In the weird way that mind works, I seem to have a look-up created against these two words in my database. This post was written in two parts, one was my diary entry and the other I was writing up for the blog. It does seem all right to combine them together, because in my mind they are connected together

Snacks are a headache. I cannot afford at best of times putting in an hour’s effort for  something which is a filler item. Also when you feel like eating snacks you want it with immediate effect.  How to conjure up something in 10-15 min? I feel the need of a wand, accompanied by a spell, similar to those from Harry Potter.  Point at the stove and mutter abracadabra and voila! There is lovely snack sitting on the stove. But however much I search for Diagon alley and platform 9^3/4 in London, they have not condescended to reveal themselves to a muggle.

So till the time I get a wand of my own I make do with small tricks. One cardinal rule I have 

decided to follow for snacks is, try not to use the gas/stove. Microwave and grillers are exempted from this. Once I put a pan on the gas, I end up spending at least 20-30 mins on it. Not worth it as I already mentioned. If we have muri (puffed rice) then there is nothing better than a jhalmuri. Then yesterday I recalled Aloo Kabli. This was not a frequent snack item in my childhood but its teasing taste had placed itself in a corner of my mind. A couple of years back when I went to a restaurant called Oh Calcutta! in Bombay they served this as a nibbler while we were waiting for the sumptuous bangali feast. A sudden hunger pang at 4pm Sunday evening triggered my forefathers instinct and I started foraging in my cupboards and fridge. I was rewarded with a tin of chick peas (yes it is not kabuli channa..you cannot be so fastidious) hiding behind the neglected food supplements bottles. I dragged it out and started thinking. That is when the memory of aloo kabli shone out in bright neon lights.

It is a medley of salty and citrus flavours. Things that make it different is the crunchiness of the onion, flakiness of the boiled potato and fragrance of the coriander expertly held together by the juices of the tomatoes. Here goes the recipe...

Ingredients

3 medium bolied potato

1 large or 2 small tomatoes

1 medium onion

1 cup kabuli channa , boiled  (or use tinned chick peas)

Coriander – 2 tbsp

Chaat Masala – ½ tbsp

Lemon juice

Red chilli Powder

Salt

Quickest way to boil the potato is to put them a refrigerator bag and microwave for 5-6 mins. Let it stay for a couple of mins and then take out and remove the skins. The baking variety of the potato works best. But any will do.

Dice the boiled potato, tomato and onion into square sizes. We don’t want the potato to lose its identity and that is the reason to keep it big enough. Add the boiled kabuli channa to this. I have to confess here that when the fancy strikes to have aaloo kabli, I more than often resort to the tinned variety. I know it is not good for digestion, but try telling that after you have the first spoonful.Last time we had it, we added another word to our limited medical vocabulary..epigastric region pains. To be fair the blame should be shared by haldiram samosa, cheesy garlic bread, skipped lunch. So if you want to play safe and still want the fun...be patient, soak a cup of channa overnight and then boil them. You might even be like me on those odd weeks when healthy eating takes my fancy and the fridge is filled up with all sorts of sprouts. Mine rot away after the first couple days of zeal. On an extreme you can skip the kabuli channa altogether. Potato/tomato and onion is a star combination anyways.

So then, after this discourse on channa, mix all the items together in a bowl. Add the coriander leaves, chaat masala, salt, lemon juice and red chilli powder as per you taste. Give it a good toss. If you allow it to stay for about 10 mins the juices really become great and you can lick your bowl clean.