From disaster to delicious- part 2

By Aswathy Kumar

I can't bake!

And I don't' mean fancy three tiered cakes or exotic French desserts like Religieuse, tarte tatin or other nonsense I can barely pronounce. When I say I cannot bake, I mean being completely handicapped when it comes to even cooking an egg in a muffin tray or bake a 2 minute microwave cookie. 

You must be thinking...so what's the big deal? After all there are a plenty of women in this world who cannot bake or even cook for that matter. So why bother? And trust me, that's exactly what I thought.

I don't mean to brag here but I am simply awesome with my kormas and masaledaar curries and consider myself to be quite a genius in the kitchen, so why even bother with baking let alone try and attempt to master it. After all there is a little part of me that believe that the ideal Indian housewife was never even meant to bake. We never grew up with ovens or dishwashers (Imagine hand scrubbing all those crazy blenders and baking dishes). In the Indian kitchen, the cook is usually the dishwasher as well. Forget the kitchen layout, even our basic style of cooking that involves sautéing onions, mixing puréed tomatoes and frying the spices just do not equip us with the patience required in baking. I mean, the average Indian cook cannot leave their food alone. We have to poke it, prick it, spice it, taste it, sauté it and what not.  We are not used to popping things in the oven and waiting patiently for some kind of magic to enfold. Once we enter the kitchen and pick up that wooden spoon, we are not leaving without our bowl of Murgh makhani or Dal tadka.

And for a while my life was perfectly fine, void of muffin trays, ovens with intimidating dials and scary looking blending gadgets. Why should I bake? There were plenty of bakeries scattered all over the city displaying an array of sumptous delicacies. And probably I would have to spend way less to actually buy a ready made cake than bake one. But that being said probably a handful of you can truly understand the pressures of a stay-at-home-mom that cannot bake. Just imagine the trauma of seeing your pakoras and aalo tikkis lying completely dejected for some plain looking cupcakes at play dates. Imagine the feeling when you offer to pick up a cake at the nearby bakery to bring to a PTA event while another stepford wife keenly undermine you by offering to bake a fancy two-tier one for the entire class. Imagine attending birthday parties where you are confronted with an entire table of tarts, pies, cupcakes, croissants all hand-baked by Ms Super-mom not to forget all those perfect pictures splattered all over social media... #bakingwithmunchkin #joyofbaking #loveofbaking and what not. Apparently even 5 year olds can bake nowadays. 'Oh my baby just baked me a chocolate chip muffin,' #bliss #motherhood #love #wtf????

 

So I decided to roll up sleeves and face my ultimate baking nightmare. If a five year old can do it, so can I? I mean how hard can it be....right?

The recipe said

1 3/4 cup of flour

1 cup sugar

3/4 tsp baking soda

3/4 tsp baking powder

1/2 tsp salt

Mix the dry ingredients well so that no lumps are formed...

Done...

Now mix 1 egg, 1/2 cup milk, 1/2 cup oil and vanilla essence. Add the wet ingredients to the dry ingredients. Also add 1/2 cup boiling water and bake at 150 c for 30 minutes. Top with jam and serve.

Done...

Well not quite, I guess...

Coz what I did end up with, was this...

   

   ( I swear the recipe said sponge cake) 

A crumbly weird gooey corn-bread meet sponge cake meet stale bread look alike that no child was ever going to touch...

Okay...there, I will admit it. I am no queen bee of baking but then again...there is something that I am really good at. And that's damage control. I had used up all those ingredients and there was no way I was going to throw it all away. Come on, I am a true desi and we don't throw away things. So I did what every good Indian cook is best at...

I pricked it, poked it crushed it. Rolled it up just like little chapati balls. Placed them in skewers like I would do with my lamb kebabs. Dipped them in a melted chocolate, whipping cream mix, topped with sprinkles and voila! I had the ultimate cake poppers, perfect for any playdate. What can I say #nailedit!

       (The end result)

Desi, with an Italian twist

By Aswathy Kumar

'Excuses, excuses and more excuses,' my husband sat grimly, staring at his computer screen. He didn't have to say much, I knew exactly what he was looking at and what had ticked off such a reaction. It was the last updated sign on my food blog. I embarrassingly shifted in my seat to take a peek. It read January 10, 2014. Okay, I agree, I was guilty as charged. It had been almost a year since I penned down anything on my blog and it wasn't doing as great as I had intended it to be. 

But honestly, I had some real valid reasons. A year ago, I moved from Washington DC to Yangon and my life had take a complete 360. Running non-stop errands for groceries, cooking, cleaning and scrubbing toilets had given way to a wonderful world of chauffeur driven cars, nannies to fuss over my little one and live-in cooks. Though initially I had planned to continue my role of 'super-mom' and 'Miss can-do-it-all' in Yangon as well, very soon I found out that houses in the developing world were not really built for a one-woman show. It felt depressing cooking in a closed-off kitchen and it was no fun hosting dinners for guests who didn't even budge from our cozy living room to check on poor-me slogging away in the heat. 

That's when I found my Jassi, our Burmese/Indian dynamo cook. From the traditional Myanmar cuisine, to Thai, Chinese, Indian or Arabic, Jassi was definitely a dream-find. From my bedroom, one storey above, I could smell the concoction of creamy puréed tomatoes, butter and garam masala wafting from the kitchen. Jassi was making my famous Makhani Chicken. I had given her the recipe once and she had already mastered it to such an extend that I barely could make out the difference between mine and hers. I slowly made way to the kitchen and I couldn't help but wonder, if there was any part of it that was familiar. It was time, I thought, time to add my little magic touch.

Murg Makhani Lasagne

Jassi had already made the creamy makhani gravy and was about to add the chicken chunks when I walked in. Though I did want to regain some of my lost power, I was in no mood to start from scratch. That's when I thought, why not, shred up the chicken instead of the chunks and add it to the gravy and use it is as the filling for a completely unique dish of Murg makhani lasagne, a desi dish with an Italian twist. 

Recipe

Chicken- breast shredded

5-6 tomatoes, blended

Onions-2

Ginger-garlic paste-1 tbsp

Red chilli powder-1/4 tsp

Coriander powder- 1/2 tsp

Garam masala-1/4 tsp

Sugar-a pinch

Dried Fenugreek leaves- 1 tsp

Milk-1 cup

Fresh cream-2 tbsp

Cilantro to Garnish

Salt to taste

Lasagne sheets- depending on your baking tray

Grated cheddar cheese

In a wok, add butter and stir fry the onions till brown and blend in a mixer 

Now in the same wok and with remaining butter, add puréed tomatoes, ginger garlic paste and cook through

Now add the onion paste, red chilli powder, coriander powder and salt and fry well.

Add the shredded chicken, 1/4 cup water, cover with a lid let it cook 

Once ready open the cover and let the water evaporate. Now add the milk, cream, a pinch of sugar, salt to taste and garam masala

Add the dried fenugreek leaves and cilantro to garnish

Start layering the curry and the lasagne sheets. I like to partly boil the sheets before using and also not use too much of it. Just a few sheets at the bottom and few at the top (but then again, that's the way we like it)

Top with shredded cheese

And bake 

A not-so-happy fact!

Apparently this guy, won $250,000 for the very same idea, just a year ago. Damn it! Wish I had blogged about it a little earlier.