This is the story of a marriage of flavour, taste and textures. And the magic it makes on the senses. Yes a good marriage affects other people too :). I have been a big exponent of combinations, in my food I mean. After all why else would we make so many dishes in a meal? Not just for sight surely. If that aloo or aamras didn't go with pooris or that naans with dal makhni why bother making them together? Its because of the said marriage magic my friend.
And like any real marriage, there has to be a certain dance and flow of energies and rhythms to side step potential failures in combinations. In my plate on any given day, I would concentrate on the items that land up there and the play of texture and flavour they may bring about. I have mentioned that feeling in this post.
A marriage of flavour and texture |
What can I say to sell Ms. Cabbage to you? I was not a big fan of this leafy round vegetable myself when I was young. But grew to like it with time and especially so now as S has guided us with precise cooking instructions - a 90 sec toss in the pan to sear and render her fresh, crunchy leaves just this side of wilted but with most of her healthy green colour intact. The tadka has only mustard and green chillies in it, giving it a rather pleasing fresh look. That can't be said about Ms. Ladies finger on any given day; she is a limp, shrivelled mess but boy does she taste good. (Oh but I digress).
Just like they need a setting for their marriage to play out, I laid out hot piping rice with desi ghee and poured Mr. Drumstick Sambar right onto it. And then introduced our reticent Cabbage missy in small quantities, little realizing the fireworks that were going to explode in my mouth. You might think I was exaggerating but that is the whole idea of falling in love - it's the potato subzi to the poori, the rajma to the chawal or the chutney to a dosa or idli.
How can a combo of sambar and cabbage porriyal inspire one to write a blog post, you ask? It is difficult I know. I can visualize a person opening his/her lunchbox with this combo giving me the most dirty look possible. And that helps understanding this unlikely
chemistry.
What works is this:
1. The slightly crunchy texture of the cabbage. Leave S's 90 second rule, you could go to over 120 secs of mild tossing and it might still be pretty good.
2. That sambar. Whew...a good sambar is in the beholder's eye (cheeky isn't it?) I love my sambar to be slightly thick with a good mash of tur dal (red gram dal) and with the sourness of the tamarind paste coming through.
3. The above two, with papads on the side. Heaven.
4. Add a bit of curd to the mix. No... not a bit...repeat this combo but for the last part of your meal - rice and curds. Rice, thick fresh curds, two ladles of sambar and a generous sprinkling of cabbage porriyal. It would be a miracle if one didn't over eat.
So, what I was really driving at is that it is not the exoticness of a dish that justifies the memory it helps create, but the very combination of its strength that creates memories and stands the test of time. Pretty much like a good marriage. :)
Happy eating and obsessing.
Comments
this one got me thinking about what makes Indian cuisine magical! As always , your writing brings everything to life!
Sarah