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Tasty Tales from the Phoenix
Hummus and Heaven
The Definitive Dhal
Hummus and Heaven
At eighteen I set of on my world tour –destination India. I had already been a vegetarian for a year , was an ardent browser in the Indian grocers, had learnt to meditate and loved all things that glitzed and glimmered.
In spirit I was there but would my trusty thumb do the rest! Close your ears daughters of the twenty-first century.
Hitch-hiking had its ups and downs but it was free and only predictably unreliable - no one ever stopped in the rain,- informative - I could discuss the merits of ‘Daf’ cabins and ‘Merc’ engines with the most hardened truckers.
My geography has always been questionable. I travelled north instead of east and arrived in Copenhagen Denmark where I registered for voluntary kitchen work at a festival of light, love & meditation, remember this was the seventies during that post hippie rush for inner peace and enlightenment. Now a vegetarian who meditates and is never certain where the next meal is coming from suffers hunger infinitum therefore I felt I had not gone too far wrong in my direction
.
I helped to prepare meals for hundreds with a team of hundreds. We ate big chunky salads – cabbage, carrots, peanuts raisins and beans and Curries very similar to the salad but cooked, brown rice that would have rebuilt ground zero and hummus mixed with a tool that resembled a pneumatic drill.
In a word Wholesome.
I had tasted hummus only once before, it being the cheapest dish suitable for a non meat eater in a Greek restaurant in Hampstead. However it had, since then remained a culinary mystery. Apart from insuring me it was meat free no one in the restaurant spoke enough English to reveal the ingredients. I understood that Ken Wood was a very clever chef, and from then on he manifested himself in my food fantasies as a magical figure dressed in white whisking me to the peek of gourmesmic paradise.
So it happened that whilst everyone else was experiencing blissful nirvana in Denmark I was ecstatically licking giant spoons of tahini, peeling barrel loads of garlic and mastering the secret that had staved my hunger only months before.
Who says prayers are not answered!
A pound of chickpeas will go a long way, rinse and soak them over night - cook for an hour and a bit until soft but definitely not mushy.
Peel six to infinity garlic cloves, squeeze the juice of two to three juicy lemons – no pips and put in a large mixer jug with half a cup of olive oil, a good pinch of salt, freshly ground pepper and a pinch of Indian cumin seeds, liquidise well with an electric stick mixer. Add four cups of the warm chick peas and one cup of the pea water - liquidise until really smooth it will be a thick but sloppy mixture. Finally add half a cup of tahini, it will immediately thicken as the tahini emulsifies with the oil and the ground chickpeas. Re-season to taste, it should be slightly zingy with the lemon and garlic and very very smooth. Cool and refrigerate in an airtight container.
Now this is how I ate it all those years ago in the Greek restaurant - spread about an inch thick on an oval dinner plate, drizzled with olive oil a good twist of pepper a wedge of lemon a few olives and some warm pitta bread to dip.
And it has always remained for me Nirvana on the taste buds. Did I ever meet my Ken ? Well that’s another tasty tale !
Lorna Tyther
The Definitive Dhal
Although I had been regularly utilizing pulses to thicken a veggie stew for years I did not appreciate the full value of the humble lentil until I visited India.
I was at a friends house in the heart of Old Delhi where we had just completed a dance class with teenage girls all desperately trying to pick up the routine of the latest Bolliwood blockbuster.
That same evening there was a dinner party planned, consequently the cook was knee deep in exotic veg and rakes of little woks all simmering away on any available work and floor space in the miniscule kitchen.
“It’s far simpler than one imagines” my Brahmin hostess assured me shooing the children away and wading into the cooking area, her beautiful sari flowing dangerously over the naked flames.
There were a few commands in Hindi and suddenly we were both squatting next to an empty burner with a heavy bottomed pan and a bowl of washed, pre soaked red lentils.
“First dry roast the spices cumin, mustard seed, cardamom, fenugreek and perhaps a little cinnamon for sweetness,”
while they were roasting she pounded them with a wooden pestle
“don’t over- roast or they become bitter, just enough to release the flavors” she then added ghee {traditionally clarified butter which may be replaced with oil} and a handful of chopped onions
“fry these until the onions are golden, if you like it spicy fry in some chopped chili now.” She then added the lentils, extra water, a teaspoon of haldi {turmeric}and simmered it for about ten minutes occasionally stirring and chatting.
“Sometimes we add some finely chopped carrot, potato or tomato depending on what else we are serving with the meal And of course there are many different pulses one can use.” Another yell in Hindi and the cook scurried forward bearing chopped coriander, grated coconut and ginger “only add salt when the lentils are cooked” she said as she threw in the fresh herbs “always save a sprig of coriander for the pungent aroma when serving the dhal,” she gave a final stir “if you are having dry curries then make it more like a gravy.” She barked at the cook who immediately produced a perfect chapatti{a flat Indian yeast free bread}we tasted the deliciously creamy and slightly runny dhal, she glared at the cook as if to say now this is the Definitive Dhal, adjusted her still pristine sari and sailed out of the kitchen.
Ready Steady Cook - get a life!
Hummus and Heaven
The Definitive Dhal
Hummus and Heaven
At eighteen I set of on my world tour –destination India. I had already been a vegetarian for a year , was an ardent browser in the Indian grocers, had learnt to meditate and loved all things that glitzed and glimmered.
In spirit I was there but would my trusty thumb do the rest! Close your ears daughters of the twenty-first century.
Hitch-hiking had its ups and downs but it was free and only predictably unreliable - no one ever stopped in the rain,- informative - I could discuss the merits of ‘Daf’ cabins and ‘Merc’ engines with the most hardened truckers.
My geography has always been questionable. I travelled north instead of east and arrived in Copenhagen Denmark where I registered for voluntary kitchen work at a festival of light, love & meditation, remember this was the seventies during that post hippie rush for inner peace and enlightenment. Now a vegetarian who meditates and is never certain where the next meal is coming from suffers hunger infinitum therefore I felt I had not gone too far wrong in my direction
.
I helped to prepare meals for hundreds with a team of hundreds. We ate big chunky salads – cabbage, carrots, peanuts raisins and beans and Curries very similar to the salad but cooked, brown rice that would have rebuilt ground zero and hummus mixed with a tool that resembled a pneumatic drill.
In a word Wholesome.
I had tasted hummus only once before, it being the cheapest dish suitable for a non meat eater in a Greek restaurant in Hampstead. However it had, since then remained a culinary mystery. Apart from insuring me it was meat free no one in the restaurant spoke enough English to reveal the ingredients. I understood that Ken Wood was a very clever chef, and from then on he manifested himself in my food fantasies as a magical figure dressed in white whisking me to the peek of gourmesmic paradise.
So it happened that whilst everyone else was experiencing blissful nirvana in Denmark I was ecstatically licking giant spoons of tahini, peeling barrel loads of garlic and mastering the secret that had staved my hunger only months before.
Who says prayers are not answered!
A pound of chickpeas will go a long way, rinse and soak them over night - cook for an hour and a bit until soft but definitely not mushy.
Peel six to infinity garlic cloves, squeeze the juice of two to three juicy lemons – no pips and put in a large mixer jug with half a cup of olive oil, a good pinch of salt, freshly ground pepper and a pinch of Indian cumin seeds, liquidise well with an electric stick mixer. Add four cups of the warm chick peas and one cup of the pea water - liquidise until really smooth it will be a thick but sloppy mixture. Finally add half a cup of tahini, it will immediately thicken as the tahini emulsifies with the oil and the ground chickpeas. Re-season to taste, it should be slightly zingy with the lemon and garlic and very very smooth. Cool and refrigerate in an airtight container.
Now this is how I ate it all those years ago in the Greek restaurant - spread about an inch thick on an oval dinner plate, drizzled with olive oil a good twist of pepper a wedge of lemon a few olives and some warm pitta bread to dip.
And it has always remained for me Nirvana on the taste buds. Did I ever meet my Ken ? Well that’s another tasty tale !
Lorna Tyther
The Definitive Dhal
Although I had been regularly utilizing pulses to thicken a veggie stew for years I did not appreciate the full value of the humble lentil until I visited India.
I was at a friends house in the heart of Old Delhi where we had just completed a dance class with teenage girls all desperately trying to pick up the routine of the latest Bolliwood blockbuster.
That same evening there was a dinner party planned, consequently the cook was knee deep in exotic veg and rakes of little woks all simmering away on any available work and floor space in the miniscule kitchen.
“It’s far simpler than one imagines” my Brahmin hostess assured me shooing the children away and wading into the cooking area, her beautiful sari flowing dangerously over the naked flames.
There were a few commands in Hindi and suddenly we were both squatting next to an empty burner with a heavy bottomed pan and a bowl of washed, pre soaked red lentils.
“First dry roast the spices cumin, mustard seed, cardamom, fenugreek and perhaps a little cinnamon for sweetness,”
while they were roasting she pounded them with a wooden pestle
“don’t over- roast or they become bitter, just enough to release the flavors” she then added ghee {traditionally clarified butter which may be replaced with oil} and a handful of chopped onions
“fry these until the onions are golden, if you like it spicy fry in some chopped chili now.” She then added the lentils, extra water, a teaspoon of haldi {turmeric}and simmered it for about ten minutes occasionally stirring and chatting.
“Sometimes we add some finely chopped carrot, potato or tomato depending on what else we are serving with the meal And of course there are many different pulses one can use.” Another yell in Hindi and the cook scurried forward bearing chopped coriander, grated coconut and ginger “only add salt when the lentils are cooked” she said as she threw in the fresh herbs “always save a sprig of coriander for the pungent aroma when serving the dhal,” she gave a final stir “if you are having dry curries then make it more like a gravy.” She barked at the cook who immediately produced a perfect chapatti{a flat Indian yeast free bread}we tasted the deliciously creamy and slightly runny dhal, she glared at the cook as if to say now this is the Definitive Dhal, adjusted her still pristine sari and sailed out of the kitchen.
Ready Steady Cook - get a life!