Kitchen3N

Recipes and food fun from Apt 3N

Easy Fried Rice

IMG_6406 Ever since I started cooking for myself, my taste for takeout has rapidly declined (pizza and sushi exempt). Take chinese takeout for example: when I was a kid, it was the ultimate treat. My Friday lunch if I used my allowance wisely. I’m not sure what you know about Bengali moms, but they are pretty militant in their meal regiment. Rice, vegetable saute/bhorta, some kind of protein curried, and daal. That is what you have for dinner, every night. Without fail. Every bengali kid who grew up here knows the struggle to have something different on the table (first world problems, I know). And the retorts that follow: “Eh? Pizza? How is that any kind of food? What with all that cheese…and they wonder why American kids are so fat!”. This is usually said as one or more uncles are stuffing their faces with beef or goat curry and are working away at a Mt Everest sized mound of rice on their plate.

Anywho, takeout became less of a treat as I started making things like fried rice, fried chicken or tacos at home. The takeout versions just seemed laden with MSG, salt and grease. I used to be a little incredulous of Rachel Ray always insisting that the food you cook at home is so much better than takeout because you control what goes in there. But once you wean your taste buds of those noxiously high amounts of salt and fat, you can appreciate well made food. Food that someone didn’t just throw salt and fat at to make taste good. Rather, food that took time and thought to cook. Tasting along the way to make sure everything came together at the end.

IMG_6411Not to say that this recipe doesn’t include oil or sodium. I make mine with light olive oil (as opposed to extra virgin) and soy sauce, along with fresh garlic, ginger powder, and a generous serving of sriracha afterwards. It’s very versatile though: use any leftover meat you may have. And it’s quick and easy enough for a weeknight meal. You can use any combination of vegetables you like, as long as there are some root vegetables (onions, carrot, celery, etc.) along with corn, peas or even zucchini. For the protein, you can substitute eggs, small cubes of beef, shrimp or even tofu. And the cilantro is optional (I would put cilantro on everything if I could).

Ingredients

  • 1 cup short grain rice
  • 3 tbsp olive oil or vegetable oil
  • 1 1/2 cups mixed root vegetables, chopped small, comparable to the size of peas (I used onions, carrots and green peppers)
  • 2 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1/4 tsp ginger powder
  • 2 tbsps soy sauce
  • a pinch of red pepper flakes (optional)
  • 1 cup cooked chicken, cubed (if using left over curried chicken, rinse under water to get rid of the spices)
  • 1/4 cup frozen peas
  • 1/4 cup frozen corn
  • a handful of cilantro, chopped

Directions

  1. In a small saucepan or pot, rinse the rice with cold water. Then add water to cover (the water should cover the rice by at least an inch). Bring to a boil over high heat. Reduce heat to medium while preparing the vegetables.
  2. In a wok or large skillet, heat the oil over medium high heat. Add the vegetables and let them soften (about 5 minutes depending on how big you cut them). Add garlic, ginger, soy sauce and red pepper flakes. Reduce heat to medium.
  3. Working quickly, and keeping an eye on your vegetables so they don’t burn, drain the rice in a colander. Add to vegetables. Add chicken and frozen vegetables. Combine over medium heat. Be sure to break up any big chunks of rice (short grain rice is very starchy). Cook until frozen vegetables are heated through. Top with cilantro and taste for seasoning.
  4. Serve with Sriracha or any hot sauce of your liking.

Rice Pilaf (Palau)

IMG_1777Begin rant: I’ve got social media fatigue. I even convinced myself at one point that it was a productive use of my time, because wasn’t I mainly reading news articles and stuff? Recently, that answer became a glaring NO. Buzzfeed compilations, vine videos, 20 ways to know you’re from this city or that farm or truly ghetto. And my feed is just filled with shares of blog posts from self declared intellectuals who think they have such pearls of wisdom. I learn more from my moments of quiet reflection, when I’m running or washing dishes, than I have after reading a dozen of said articles. The handful of books I’ve read on marriage and relationships have given me important tools – many of which I’ve seen recycled time and again in those pieces. I can probably count on one hand articles of merit I’ve found through social media: Anne-Marie Slaughter’s famous article Why Women Still Can’t Have It All, NY Times’ The ‘Busy’ Trap, Nicholas Carr’s How the Internet is Making us Stupid, and The Extraordinary Science of Junk Food. So, my resolution is this: read more books. Reflect more. Check-in less. With this as an exception. IMG_1757End rant. On to the food. I know a lot of my (handful) of readers are on their own for the first time, either newly married, or going to med school (ok, that probably covers all of my readers). That’s why it’s important for me to cover all the bases of Bengali cuisine. And this rice pilaf (palau) is the quintessential dish for entertaining. Any time you have company, the main decision  you have to make is: biryani or palau + curries? Plain rice isn’t considered special enough, even though some of the best meals I’ve had consisted of plain rice, served with a plethora of spicy/tangy bhortas, curries and daal. Actually, ask any Bengali and they will probably prefer the homey meals to these elevated, reserved-for-guests spreads.IMG_1758Even apart from the traditional spread, this pilaf would make a fine accompaniment to any roast poultry dish. Which is why I was eager to share it with you in advance of Thanksgiving, in hopes that you might give it a try in lieu of your usual rice or carb. IMG_1759Onions get caramelized and lend a sweet component.  Toasted rice and browned butter give it depth. The whole thing gets hit with a wonderful concoction of aromatics: garlic, ginger, cardamom, cinnamon and bay leaf, providing the warmth and flavor. IMG_1761And the whole thing comes together pretty quickly, as long as you let the rice soak in some water while you get the onions going. The peas are optional, and often not included in Bengali rice pilafs (more common in North Indian cuisine). But I like to add them in to convince myself I’m feeding the kids something healthy. IMG_1774I served this alongside another classic for-entertaining-only dish: chicken korma, a sweet and savory chicken cooked in a curry/cream sauce, and spicy shrimp bhuna. And of course, salad! You definitely need a side salad to cut the richness. Followed by ice cream sundaes with homemade hot fudge (the recipe for that coming soon!).  Pretty darn good if I do say so myself.

Ingredients

  • 4 cups long grain basmati rice
  • 1 tbsp olive oil or vegetable oil
  • 1/2 stick butter (1/4 cup)
  • 1/2 large Spanish onion, thinly sliced
  • 2 garlic cloves, minced
  • 1/2 tsp ground ginger (alternately you can use 1 heaping tsp of garlic/ginger paste)
  • 3-4 cardamom pods (or 1/2 tsp ground cardamom)
  • 1 cinnamon stick (or 1/2 tsp ground cinnamon)
  • 2 bay leaves
  • 1 tsp salt (or to taste)
  • 1 cup peas (optional)

Directions

  1. Pour the rice into a bowl and rinse the rice 3 times in cold water to get rid of excess starch. I know a lot of people say not to do it, since you lose some of the nutrients, but this is the way it’s been done for ages, so just do it. Add enough water to come up to the top of the rice, and let it sit. Set aside.
  2. In a large pot, add the oil and butter and heat over a medium high heat. Once the bubbles subside, add the onions. Stir occasionally and let brown. This will take at least 10 minutes. Once brown, add garlic and ginger. Stir. Then, working quickly, drain the excess water from the rice and add the rice to the pot. Stir constantly, to toast the rice in the butter and to redistribute the onions and garlic throughout the rice. Once everything is nice and toasty (about 5 minutes), add 6 cups of water (rice should be submerged in the water, with the water coming up about 1 in over the rice). Add the cardamom, cinnamon, bay leaves and salt. Bring to a boil, then reduce to a simmer over low heat. Cover.
  3. After letting it simmer for 10 minutes, check for doneness and seasoning. If the rice is just about cooked through, add the peas, if desired. Stir gently (or fluff with a fork if not using peas) and cover, turning off the heat. The rice will continue to steam off the heat.

Khichuri (Rice and Mung Bean pilaf)

IMG_0942For Bengalis, rain does not mean good books, cozy blankets or hunter boots. Nor does snow signal hot chocolate, snowmen or shoveling. No, for Bengalis, any sort of precipitation means only one thing: khichuri. Growing up, I always noticed, though never understood why on any overcast, slightly cool day, the first thing my dad would request was khichuri. I’d think to myself, in the usual teenage overly dramatic Holden Caulfield voice: Khichuri is just rice and daal cooked together…WHAT is the big deal? So, like Peter in The Snowy Day (can you tell I’ve been reading a lot of big and little people classics?), I thought and thought and thought about it.

IMG_0939What I noticed was this: khichuri is almost always accompanied by things you’re likely to have on hand. A quick omelet with onions and green chilis. A raw onion and red pepper bhorta (mashed with salt and mustard oil). Or any variety of pickles. Because people back home aren’t likely to venture out to the bazaar on a rainy day. Slinging through the mud when perhaps the vendors themselves might not even show up. This might be a foreign concept to someone who lives in New York, where you can find someone on a jet ski in the middle of a hurricane. But in Bangladesh, where intermittent electricity and insufficient refrigeration send most to the bazaar on a daily basis (often on unpaved roads), an excuse to stay home most welcome.

I like to use a short grain, fragrant rice called Kalijeera for my khichuri. The mung bean (moong dal) can be swapped out for red lentils (masoor dal) but will of course change the taste of the dish. And though I initially stated that Bengali precipitation associations don’t include any sort of warm or fuzzies, that’s not 100% accurate. Once the rice and lentils/beans have steamed to perfection along with all the warm spices, the aroma that wafts out of the kitchen is the olfactory equivalent of great big bear hug.

IMG_0950Ingredients

  • 1 cup mung bean
  • 2 tbsp vegetable oil
  • 1 small onion, diced
  • 1 tbsp garlic/ginger paste or 4 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1/4 tsp turmeric
  • 1/4 tsp coriander
  • 6 tbsp butter
  • 2 cups rice, rinsed thoroughly to remove excess starch
  • 7 cups water
  • 1 cinnamon stick
  • 4 cardamom pods
  • 4 cloves
  • 4 peppercorns
  • 1 bay leaf
  • 2 tsp salt (or to taste)
  • 2 green chilis

Directions

  • In a medium to large stock pot, toast the mung bean over medium high heat until fragrant and slightly browned. Empty into a separate container and set aside.
  • Pour oil into the pot and add the onions. After softening for 4 to 5 minutes, add the garlic/ginger, turmeric and coriander. Mix well. Add the rice, toasted mung bean and butter and mix until well combined and the butter is melted.
  • Add the remaining ingredients, stir and bring to a boil over high heat. Then, reduce to a simmer over low heat and cover. Should be done in 15 to 20 minutes. Check for doneness at 15 minutes, fluff with a fork, and continue to steam for an extra 5 minutes if needed. Check for seasoning. I needed 2.5 tsp of kosher salt.

Keep in mind this recipe is the best I could do between my mother and mother in law’s recipes, where ingredients are stated in handfuls, liquids measured by the finger, and seasoning is always to taste. God bless them =)

South Asian rice pudding (Kheer)

Apologies for dragging him into yet another one of my posts, but I’ll do it anyway. One of the many things my dear husband and I bond over is our mutual disdain for South Asian sweets. It seems they’re all permutations of milk products or by products, overly sweetened and offering little by way of depth of flavor (think: golap jam, rosh golla, malai kari and so on). We have, however, a few exceptions:  sweet doi (yogurt), rosh malai and my Rahima Aunty’s kheer.

This is a very traditional dish done in a not-so-traditional way. In the olden days, you would slave over a hot stove all day, slowly reducing a vat of milk to about half, then adding the rice and sugar until cooked and sufficiently thickened. Rahima Aunty has figured out a way to cut down the cooking time and even add richness by using a 2:1 milk to heavy cream combination. She also blitzes the rice (increasing the surface area), which allows the starches to develop further, resulting in super thick and creamy, almost gelatinous pudding.

To achieve the traditional smokey flavor of a gurer (date molasses) kheer, I’d highly recommend picking up some from your local South Asian market. I haven’t tried it with regular molasses, but you’re welcome to give it a shot! And of course, because I can never just stick to a recipe, I added a dash of salt and bit of vanilla to round out the flavors. I’ve already made a serious dent to the bowl…thanks, Aunty!

Ingredients:

  • 1/2 cup basmati rice
  • 4 cups whole milk
  • 2 cups heavy cream
  • 3/4 cup date molasses
  • 3/4 tsp vanilla
  • dash salt
  • 1 tbsp butter (or ghee [clarified butter])

Directions

Soak the rice in water for 8 hours or overnight.

When ready to prepare the pudding, drain the rice and dump into a food processor. Pulse to break up the rice (don’t overdo this step…you don’t want a paste).

Combine milk and cream in a medium saucepan over high heat. Bring to a boil and reduce the heat to a simmer. Pour in the rice and simmer until the rice is cooked through, stirring occasionally (about 20 minutes). Continue to simmer until reduced, for 15 minutes. Add molasses, vanilla and salt and stir continuously for the last 5 minutes. Off the heat, add the butter (or ghee) until melted.

Pour into serving bowl immediately and cover with plastic wrap to keep a skin from forming.