Travelling has always meant different things to different people, but one thing that everyone can agree upon is that travel helps us discover new places and more importantly, oneself. For me, travelling is much more than seeing a new place. It means living life on the edge. I don’t just like to travel, I like to really uncover a place and so I prefer calling myself an explorer. Exploration helps you understand culture and history through its people, places and food. My obsession with exploration has made me travel the length and breadth of our beautiful country. I have met many interesting people and learned their incredible stories through my travels. Their stories have helped me grow and respect the different customs and beliefs of people.
Once, while travelling in the interiors of Madhya Pradesh I met a hakim who was curing someone’s stomach ache over the telephone. He asked his patient to keep the phone close to his ear and with his index finger touch his belly button. He recited a few verses and duas and asked the patient to slowly drink water. Once the patient followed all the instructions, the hakim asked him how he was feeling and to my surprise, the patient was feeling much better. I don’t know the science behind this treatment but what mattered most in that situation was that the person was treated.
In May 2016 I got a chance to visit Khajuraho, the temple town famous for its Kamasutra temples, in the Bundelkhand region of Madhya Pradesh. Interestingly, the trip introduced me to a completely different and unique form of kadhi. That’s when I learned that sometimes there is more to mundane things than the obvious.
I reached Khajuraho early in the morning and found an auto at the bus stop to take me to my accommodation. I was staying at a hostel within walking distance of the main temples. The hosts were welcoming, helping me with information regarding travel and food around the city. He also offered access to the hostel’s kitchen to cook my own food. I was sharing a room with two other travellers, Noam from Israel and Justin from the United States.
Excited to explore the city, I ate a quick breakfast and headed out with a few other people from the hostel. First, we visited the temples, a sight to behold in the morning sunshine. They were built between 950–1050 CE during the reign of the Chandela dynasty who claimed to be the direct descendants of the moon (“Chand-ela” means “from the moon”). After their decline in the 13th century, the temples were left unattended and soon a dense growth of date palm trees closed in on them. These palms are what gave this city – called Vatsa in ancient times – its name, as “khajur” means date.
Back at the hostel, weary and full of stories from our day, my fellow guests lost ourselves in discussion and didn’t realize that it was almost dinner time – we had no food to eat. My roommates suggested we each cook something so that we’d have enough food for everyone. Excited, we stepped out to the closest grocery store to gather supplies.
I came back with a bag of rice, a big box of curd and half a kilo of dal vadi (lentil nuggets). The others had brought with them a haul of fruits, vegetables and bread to make salad, pudding and other dishes. Together we had enough ingredients for dinner. I wanted to impress my new friends with something other than the usual butter chicken. I decided to stick with my comfort food, which is kadhi chawal. Inspired, I deviated from the usual kadhi with dal vadi, and tossed in some of the fruit the others had brought back. I felt that the texture of the apples and guavas would complement the tang of the kadhi. I made steamed rice, tossed with ghee, cumin and fresh coriander to accompany the kadhi. It was a hit; I saw people go back for multiple servings.
Dinner that night was a fun mix of strange and delicious dishes. None of our dishes were authentic but every dish was unique and personal to us. After eating we talked, sang songs and recited poetry late into the night.
There are certain dishes in the world that only mothers can do justice to, and kadhi chawal, a quintessential comfort food in most parts of north India, is one of them. Everyone I’ve met claims that their mother makes the best version of this dish, and it’s possible that this is one of the reasons that restaurants don’t usually include it on their menus. Who wants to compete with “maa ke haath ka khaana” (food cooked by your mother)?
There are many variations of this dish – Sindhi, Punjabi, Gujarati, Rajasthani. All of them are unique, and yet they have some features, such as the curd base and gram flour, in common. The kadhi itself could be sweet or tangy, it could have pakoras or be served plain with some fried curry leaves.
Two of my favourite variations are the Sindhi and Marwari styles of kadhi. The flavour of the base curries are different. Sindhis use kokum or tamarind to add extra sourness and throw in potatoes, drumsticks and other seasonal vegetables while the Marwari preparation has an extra tadka (tempering) of ghee with spices like asafoetida, cumin and red chilli, among others. This kadhi also features either onion or dal pakoras in it.
Ammi usually makes Marwari-style kadhi with a slightly thicker consistency than the ones I have had elsewhere. She also adds a little aamchur for a dash of tang. Abbi likes his plate with extra papad and a little dollop of ghee on top of the rice.
Kadhi originated in the dry lands of Rajasthan. Bisma Tirmizi records that the scarcity of ingredients, including vegetables and water, in the region had a profound effect on the diet – locals relied heavily on milk and milk-based products. The region is dry but nevertheless rich culturally and this is reflected in their food as well. The food was also influenced by the desert gypsies and travellers who could carry only a limited weight and hence prepared dishes that could last long without going bad. Bisma Tirmizi writes in Dawn, “[In the] deserts of Rajasthan, the use of lentils, gram flour and beans obtained from native plants were used extensively for cooking, so the evolution of karhi had to happen. The neighbouring states of Punjab, Gujarat and Haryana borrowed the besan karhi pakora from Rajasthani and gave it a flavour of their own.”
I came back to Delhi with new friendships and new stories to narrate but soon forgot about the dish. One weekend, a few months later, Ammi was making kadhi. I stopped her and took over the kitchen. Ammi had no clue what I was up to, but I had a feeling she didn’t particularly want to cook that day as she surrendered the kitchen to me rather easily. I replicated the dish, adding a few spoons of roasted almond paste.
Ammi was impressed with my offering. She told me it was a flavour and texture bomb exploding in her mouth. A little sweet, a little tangy and just a sliver of spice, with a texture that was simultaneously rough and smooth. All in one spoonful. She asked me what this dish was called, and I decided to christen it “Shahi Amrood Seb ki Kadhi”. And since it had my mother’s approval, it soon became one of my signature dishes and a hit in our family.
This dish was later added to the menu of one of the restaurants where I used to work. I can now add different flavours and textures of my own preference to make a new dish because travel helps me learn new techniques and teaches me to think on my feet.
Recipe
Ingredients
¾ tbsp gram flour (besan)
½ cup thick sour curd
2 pinches salt • ½ cup water
A pinch of powdered turmeric
3 tbsp cashew paste
½ tbsp ghee
A pinch of asafoetida
1 bay leaf
¼ tsp mustard seeds
2 red chillies, chopped
1 tsp red chilli powder
1 apple, peeled and sliced
1 big guava, de-seeded and sliced
2 masala dal vadi
Method
In a blender, add the besan, curd, turmeric, salt and water. It should be of pouring consistency because if it is thick, it will destroy the base.
Strain and transfer to a pan. Over medium heat, stir constantly while bringing it to a boil.
Add the cashew paste and cook till the rawness disappears.
In a small pan, heat ghee and add the asafoetida, bay leaf, mustard seeds and red chillies. 5. Add this tadka to the kadhi and let it cook for 3–4 minutes.
Meanwhile, add ghee in a pan and then the sliced apples.
Toss in chilli powder and salt to taste. Sauté for 2–3 minutes.
In another pan, deep fry the masala vadi till they become brown, crispy and easy to crush.
Add the apples, vadi and raw guava into the curd mixture. Let it simmer for 2 minutes.
Remove the pan from heat and serve with either steamed rice or with khubba roti.
Excerpted with permission from Daastan-e-Dastarkhan: Stories and Recipes from Muslim Kitchens, Sadaf Hussain, Hachette India.
