Foodie fathers

Having your dad in the kitchen can mean meals with a touch of spice to them, a unique change from mum’s banal offerings

BY SHERYL DIXIT

We know, in these super-modern days, that men are as good in the kitchen as women. Men make great cooks as endorsed by Master Chef, enthusiastically supported by their kids, and grudgingly acknowledged by their partners who are, after all, more concerned about the fat, sugar and salt content that goes into a meal.

My dad and father-in-law were good, if eccentric cooks. Their occasional forays into the kitchen always meant that we would have something interesting and definitely delicious served up as a meal. We would even be advised on how to eat it, for example, one couldn’t have a certain kind of aachar with that particular dish or you wouldn’t be doing justice to the original taste.

In my childhood and youth, we were rampant non-vegetarians, only indulging in ‘dal’ (pronounced ‘doll’ curry) around the end of the month, when the bank balance was lean. My dad was an absolute foodie, and if he were alive today, the myriad of

Tari’s mirchi bhajis

cooking shows on TV would have delighted his soul and upped his cholesterol. Later in life, he had to curb his appetite on contracting diabetes though, but he soon discovered a new kind of joy in steamed veggies, karela juice, fresh paneer dishes and bit sized morsels of chicken and fish. It was tough, but he persevered with the philosophy that, in his prime, he had indulged in the best cuisine had to offer. My father-in-law too, enjoyed his food, particularly if it was pungent and deepfried. Strictly vegetarian, he would often sneak into the kitchen when my mum-inlaw was busy elsewhere in the house, and add his own ingredients to whatever dish happened to be cooking, just to spruce it up a bit. This usually meant adding chilly powder and salt to the dish, and whatever other spice he favoured. His sons loved his experiments, but they didn’t please his wife, who would have to wipe off mounds of powders spilt all over her kitchen platform, and eat a larger portion of curd-rice to take away the spicy sting of the main meal.

These were my father-in-law’s speciality, still admired by the whole family. This recipe shouldn’t be attempted by the faint-hearted; however, with a mild adjustment of the ingredients depending on your taste, it could be the best snack.

These recipes are in memory of Thomas, my father and Taranath, my father-in-law –now gone, dearly remembered, still missed. Happy Father’s Day!

Tommy’s fried mutton chops

These were a great favourite in our household, and on the rare occasions that it was prepared, the recipe used was exclusively my dad’s. The kitchen was in a tizzy when this dish was being made, as my dad politely hounded the cook until she prepared the dish exactly to his instructions.

6 finely sliced mutton chops with the bone on

For the marinade:

2 onions

1 cup coriander leaves

2 green chillies

1 tbsp ginger-garlic paste

½ tbsp cumin powder

4 tbsp vinegar

Salt to taste

For the coating:

1 cup breadcrumbs

½ cup semolina (rava)

1 egg

Oil for frying

6 large green chillies, short stem included

For the filling:

1 tbsp tamarind paste

1 heaped tbsp besan

½ tsp red chilly powder

½ tsp turmeric

½ tsp roasted cumin (jeera)

1 tbsp very finely chopped onion

(optional)

Salt to taste

For the coating:

1 cup besan

1/3 cup roasted rice flour

½ tsp turmeric powder

½ tsp chilly powder

Pinch of soda bicarbonate

Salt to taste

1/3 cup water

Oil for frying

In a small bowl, mix together all the ingredients for the filling, into a slightly thickish consistency. Keep aside. Next, wash and dry the green chillies on a paper kitchen towel. Use the sharp tip of a knife to carefully make an incision on one side of each chilly, stopping about an inch from the end. Very gently begin deseeding the chillies, taking care to avoid increasing the incision. They may break slightly at the top near the stem, but that’s okay. Using a teaspoon, gently fill the inside of each chilly with the filling and keep aside.

In a separate bowl, gently sieve the besan powder to get rid of any lumps. Add the rice flour, turmeric and chilly powders, soda bicarb and salt. Add the water to the mix and stir until all the powders are well dissolved with the flours and the mix takes on a thickish consistency. Keep aside for 10 minutes. Next, heat oil in a deep-bottomed kadhai, in preparation for frying. Take each stuffed chilly by the stem, immerse in coating mix until fully covered and gently drop into hot oil. Fry on both sides for about half a minute or until golden brown. Remove, place on a paper towel to drain excess oil. Serve hot with mint chutney.

Grind together all the ingredients for the marinade into a fine paste. Keep aside in a large shallow bowl. Place each mutton chop on a chopping board, and gently flatten with a meat tenderiser. Next, place each chop into the marinade mix, coating thoroughly. Cover with foil or clingwrap and refrigerate overnight. Prior to cooking, mix breadcrumbs and semolina in a shallow plate and keep aside. Heat oil in a shallow frying pan. In a small bowl, beat the egg with a little salt and keep aside. Take each marinated chop, dip into egg, and place into the breadcrumb/semolina mix. Coat thoroughly and place into the shallow frying pan. Fry on both sides on medium flame for about two minutes or until the meat inside is fully cooked. Remove and drain on a paper towel. Repeat procedure until all the chops are cooked. Serve hot, garnished with fresh coriander and finely cut onion rings.

Tip: For a healthier option, once coated, pop the mutton chops into the oven and bake for 40 minutes on 180 degrees (fan forced) or until fully cooked.