How to care for a son-in-law Bengali style

Bengalis (people of Bangladesh and the Indian state of West Bengal, as well as people who share Bengali heritage) are renowned for their hospitality.

If you stop by for a visit — no matter the time of day and how busy life maybe — you will at least be offered a cup of tea and usually a small snack to accompany it. If you're visiting after a long absence, there will be feasts to welcome you back.

Traveling back to Bangladesh after 10 long years, I expected some festivities. What I didn't count on is the "jamaii" factor. Jamaii is the Bengali word for "son-in-law."

If ordinary people are treated most graciously, jamaiis are treated like God's gift to the family, world and universe. After a wedding, the newly married couple is feasted and feted almost nonstop for a year.

Now, after 11 years of marriage, two kids, countless diaper changes and loads of laundry later, I can't be blamed for not envisioning my darling husband in the glowing aura of a new jamaii. However, my Bengali family and friends, who last met my husband when we'd first got married and then only for about two weeks, still considered him new enough to celebrate.

The fact that he happens to be a tall, charming Texan also probably was a factor.

We were overwhelmed by the feasting. A dinner party wasn't just a dinner party; it wasn't even an ordinary feast. No, it was extreme feasting (yes, there's a reality show waiting to be made).

Cooks didn't just prepare a party menu, but seemed to make their entire repertoire of culinary achievements. For example, one of my uncles (a sailor) married a very nice lady from Thailand. When we were invited to their home, my Aunt Penn (in the apron) made Thai dishes, Bengali dishes and Western dishes.

This translated into two types of soup, two types of roasts, two types of curries, two types of rice, three chicken dishes, three seafood dishes and several vegetable dishes (I got tired of counting). And then there was dessert (many different kinds) and, of course, tea.

Knowing how much time and trouble the cook had spent preparing the feast, I felt obligated to taste each dish that had been cooked (fortunately, some of the sweets were store-bought). As a result, I could only have a few bites of each one (even the ones that made me swoon at first bite), but still ended up stuffed to the point of discomfort. Yes, another consequence of regular feasting was a tender and upset tummy.

Not surprisingly, some of my favorite dishes during this trip turned out to be the simplest. Simplicity sometimes is priceless. One dish was pishpash, a thin porridge of rice and vegetables often fed to infants and the ill. Sometimes lentils or other protein are added. Light with a subtle flavor, it offers both sustenance and comfort. My mother always makes me pishpash when I'm under the weather.

(Article originally published in The San Angelo Standard-Times, August 7, 2012)

Pishpash
Ingredients
2 teaspoon cooking oil
1 teaspoon minced onion
1 bay leaf
1 each: cardamom, clove and small cinnamon stick
4 tablespoons rice
2 tablespoon lentils or a piece of chicken or fish (optional)
1 thumb-size slice of ginger (about ¼-inch thick)
2 tablespoons rough chopped green papaya or zucchini
2 tablespoons grated carrots
1¼ cup chicken stock
- Salt and pepper to taste
- Garnish: lime wedges

Directions:

1 Heat oil in a small saucepan and cook onions. When almost translucent, add whole spices, rice and protein (if using). Cook for about 1 minute or until fragrant.
2 Add ginger, vegetables and liquid. Bring to a simmer and lower heat.
3 Cook until rice and vegetables are soft. Stir enough to mash some of the ingredients until you have a thin porridge. Remove whole spices.
4 Season with salt and pepper and serve with lime wedges for squeezing.

Adventure Ho! Off to Bangladesh We Go!

So we are about to fly across the Atlantic Ocean, through 12 time zones, halfway across the world to Bangladesh. This is a bittersweet trip. We were originally supposed to visit in winter, with my parents. My dad was as excited as a kid going to a circus. He'd appointed himself tourguide for my kids' first trip to the first country I had ever known. Instead, my cowboy husband and I are leading the trip.

Part of me keeps thinking of all the people and things that won't be there: my dad, my maternal grandmother (the one who told me my first djinn stories), my favorite teacher, the house I grew up in. But another part of me is determined to do my best as substitute tour guide. So here are some things I'm hoping will get done:

1. Visit with my dad's extended family, many of whom will be meeting the kids for the first time.

2. Tasting my way through all my dad's favorite foods. He loved grocery shopping and I hope to visit one or two of the markets while I'm there.

3. Visiting my old school and haunts with the kids in tow. Show them the trees I grew up with.

4. Visit my mom's village where we spent many wonderful summer holidays.

5. Go on some crazy, bone-jolting, fun rickshaw rides.

And on a personal note, I hope to be taking many pictures, collecting stories, and learning to see Bangadesh through my kids' point of view.

I'm going to help my kids know the country like their grandfather used to, I'm going to make Bengali memories for my family. I'm going to embrace this trip as a joyous adventure and know that my dad is along for the ride in spirit.

I don't know when I'll be able to post again...so may your summer too be fun, safe & full of happy adventures!

Bangladesh Biman, the official airlines of Bangladesh

Traveling with Mangoes Across Time & Cultures

I love mangoes! So beautiful and blushing, with a sweet enticing aroma...a temptation for the taste buds.

My childhood in Bangladesh was wonderful. I grew up in house surrounded by a lush green garden full of fruit trees. Towering sway-backed coconut palms, thick ancient Jack Fruit trees with their heavy, prickly fruit, pale slender guava trees and the many-branched mango trees.  As a child, I spent many days climbing the mango trees, sometimes for the fruit, but more often to hide in and daydream.

And I always looked forward to Spring because she brought along mango blossoms. The delicate, lacy sprays of flowers would cover the trees like festive adornment and herald the coming of mango-eating season. Joy! Joy! Joy!

So when I moved to West Texas, bone dry and dusty, one of the things I missed most was that childhood garden. I tried to fill the void in my heart by buying mangoes whenever they were available at the grocery store. I enjoyed every bite of the sweet goodness, but it only lasted as long as the mangoes (and no, I didn't let them sit around too long...too tasty for that!). For a while I was all gung-ho about planting a mango tree in my new garden, but my patient Cowboy explained the West Texas environment wasn't the most hospitable when it came to mangoes. So I had to satisfy myself with my grocery store finds.

Then one day, recently, the National Mango Board sent me a box of mangoes.

While it was simply promotion to them, it was the best gift for me. Believe me, nothing compares to receiving  a box of mangoes in the mail. I opened the box up with eager fingers, until the first whiff of the aroma hit me. I stilled, and then continued more slowly, savoring the moment. When the mangoes lay revealed among all the packing materials, I almost cried.

For a moment, I was back in Bangladesh.

Every summer we would not only harvest mangoes from the garden, but also receive baskets full of them from my father's village. I received those baskets with dancing joy and when I received the box of mangoes, my heart danced again.

This month we are celebrating #Letslunch member @CowgirlChef aka Ellise Pierce and her wonderful new cookbook Cowgirl Chef: Texas Cooking With a French Accent (Love the title!).

To celebrate Ellise's love for fusion cooking, I decided to take my favorite fruit and incorporate it into a recipe from my West Texas mother-in-law. Fusion at its sweetest! (Yes, I went there...just couldn't resist)

Mango Cobbler -- A Texas Dessert with Exotic Bengali Flair.

My hubby adapted his mother’s Hasty Peach Cobbler recipe to include ingredients in our pantry. You can substitute your preferred flour, sweetner and fats. Note: we prefer our cobblers not-too sweet so you might have to adjust the sugar to taste. And, of course, I put in the mangoes!

½ cup whole wheat flour

¼ cup Splenda brown sugar mix (if using real sugar use ½ cup)

1 teaspoon baking powder

¼ teaspoon salt

½ cup milk

1 teaspoon vanilla (optional)

3 tablespoons butter (a little bit of the real stuff really adds the wow factor)

2 cups of sliced mangoes with juices

Instructions:

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
2. Put butter in 9 ½” baking dish and melt in oven.
3. Mix first six ingredients together to make batter, pour into baking pan.
4. Pour fruit and juice over the top. DO NOT STIR.
5. Bake at 350 degrees for about 45 minutes or until done.

Um, sorry no photos. By the time I remembered, the cobbler was almost gone. So you know it's yummy! :)

Here are some other delicious fusion #Letslunch posts for you to check out:

Taiwanese Fried Chicken

Goan Pork Curry Tacos

Jewish-Chinese Brisket

Kimchi Bulgogi Nachos

Grilled Kimcheese Sandwich

Chicken Fried Steak

Lucy’s Coconut Rice Pudding with Mango on A Cook and Her Books
Renee’s Asian Spiced Quick Pickles on My Kitchen and I
Nancie’s Chili-Cheese Biscuits from Sandra Gutierrez

 

Now for one of my favorite Mango quotes --from my dear friend Anju Gattani (who is as mad about mangoes and Bollywood hottie SRK as me):

 THEDJINN'SDILEMMA BY MINA KHAN @SpiceBites, a must-summer-read 2 bring out the wild MANGO in you!!!

Happy Bengali New Year! Pohela Boishakh!

Woot! Today -- April 14th -- is Pohela Boishakh, the Bengali new year and Bengalis all around the globe -- whether they live in Bangladesh, Calcutta or West Texas are celebrating in some way.

My mother wanted to throw a party. It's such a positive, joyous, life thing to do, that I couldn't say no. This is also the first time, since my dad's death, she's actually wanted to do something social...so yay, it's a step toward embracing life and I'm going to celebate. Even though my schedule includes 2 soccer games, a chalk art festival, and a Girlscout event with the Humane Society at the mall, I went ahead and invited the few Bengali families living in my part of my West Texas.

Celebrating the Nobo Borsho (New Year in Bengali) is part of our culture, tradition and history and Spring is actually the perfect setting for it -- beautiful weather, nature displaying fresh foliage and blooms, vibrant new life all around. Even though historically, the April date was arrived at thanks to taxes & a wise emperor. According to Wikipedia:

Celebrations of Pohela Boishakh started from Akbar's reign. It was customary to clear up all dues on the last day of the year . On the next day, or the first day of the new year, landlords would entertain their tenants with sweets. On this occasion there used to be fairs and other festivities. In due course the occasion became part of domestic and social life, and turned into a day of merriment. The main event of the day was to open a halkhata or new book of accounts.

In Bangladesh, the day is marked with a parade featuring amazing artwork created by the students of Charukola (Fine Arts) Institute.

All the young people dress up: brightly colored sarees and flower garlands for the women and embroidered kurtas for the men. This is the time to attend fairs, frolic and flirt!

The fairs are a lot of fun-- and yes, Dhaka (the capital city where I grew up) had multiple fairs and events going on all day-- and featured food stalls, knick-knacks & pretties, but also stages for song, dance and drama performanaces. Bengalis are very artistic souls (heh, now you know where my  djinn stories come from!).

(all pictures are foraged from the web since I haven't attended a Pohela Boishak celebration in Bangladesh in too many years...if anyone wants credit or for me to remove them, please contact me! Meanwhile, thank you for their use)

(A traditional feast of panta bhaat (rice soaked in water), fried Hilsa fish and a medley of bhortas)

Mom and I have been cooking up a feast since yesterday. There are three different types of Bhortas (savory smash vegetable concoctions --that taste better than this description), a pitha -- dessert crepe made with rice flour and filled with a rice, coconut and jaggery molasses mix) in the fridge. Today, we make Khichuri (rice & lentils cooked together), fried eggplant and an egg curry (because the egg is the beginning of everything, according to Mom). All these are traditional fixins that Mom insisted you had to have for Pohela Boishak.

I have been worrying that she'll tire herself out as I try to help out as her sous chef...but mostly I love watching her buzz around the kitchen full of energy, plans and anticipation. This is the Mom I remember. So Shubho Nobo Borsho! Happy New Year! May this day and others be full of laughter, love and life.

Tea with Spiced Chickpea and Sweet Potato Tidbits & Thoughts on Marriage

The moment that set me on my journey to become an American occurred over tea, a cup of warm, sweet cha.

In our typical Bengali household in Bangladesh, once under British rule and forever haunted by colonial traditions, tea time was a precise ritual. At 4 p.m. in the afternoon I’d show up at my parents’ bedroom carrying a tray with a fat pot of tea, sugar, milk and a snack. My homework would be done, my mother would have had her afternoon nap, and my father would still be at work. Rain or shine, this was our together time.

I remember how grown-up I felt when I was eventually allowed to have a cup of tea instead of having my glass of milk. It was around my 13th birthday, sort of a nod from my mother that I wasn’t a child anymore. It was my duty to fix our cups of tea, arrange the plates and snacks in pretty presentation, because a young woman, a prospective bride, had to be a good hostess. Offering and serving tea was an essential skill on the road to a marriage.

The tea couldn’t be steeped too long, or it would be bitter. Too little, and it’d be flavorless. You had to add just the right amount of milk so that it would resemble a rich, bright dulce de leche. Not too dark, not too pale.

Once I poured too much milk and my mother sniffed at it. “I wanted tea, not milk with a touch of tea,” she said. “Fix me another cup.” So I did and took the cup she’d rejected. One sip and I realized she was right. The taste was insipid, a disappointment.

With this tea we would have a snack. The word “snack” suggests something quick or of little consequence. That would be misleading. The snack would depend on many factors, the weather, my mother’s whim and the cook’s whim.

On hot days, when the cook didn’t feel like cooking, it would be a fruit salad or platter of pretty store-bought cookies. On rainy days, it would be something hot from the stove and savory: freshly fried onion pakoras/fritters, or piping hot samosas. On cool winter afternoons we’d have some variety of traditional pithas –sweets- flavored with coconut, ja-ggery (dried sugarcane sugar), or date palm syrup.

I looked forward to being surprised at tea-time and relished whatever morsel that happened to accompany the tea. Not so my mother.

My mother usually had a late breakfast, and over her morning cup of tea, would talk with the cook about the day’s menu. On good days, when their ideas meshed, she’d receive nods of agreement. On other days, the cook would annouce what she thought would be better. At tea-time, the cook’s preference turned up.

At first, my mother would send the dish back and specify what she wanted. I got to be the messenger. She got her request. However, if the item had to be fried, it was almost burned to a crisp. Or it looked perfect, but somehow the cook forgot the salt. My mother learned to consult the cook on each day’s menu rather than give her a list.

I didn’t realize it then, but the cook taught me a lot, not only about food but also about how to deal with my mother. :)

To this day, I decide what to cook depending on the weather and my moods, the season and the taste. However, I also pay attention to presentation.

But I have my own ideas about what's needed for a marriage. :)

Spiced Chickpea & Sweet Potato Tidbits

2 tablespoon oil
1/2 teaspoon caraway seeds
1/2 teaspoon fennel seeds
1/2 teaspoon cumin seeds
1/2 teaspoon mustard seeds (optional)
1/2 teaspoon turmeric powder
1/2 teaspoon coriander powder
1/2 a small onion, peeled and diced
1/2 teaspoon of red pepper flakes or chilli powder (or to taste)
1 medium sweet potato, peeled and cubed into 1/2" pieces
1 1/2 tablespoons finely julienned ginger (divided)
6 garlic cloves, peeled and mashed into paste
1 15.5oz-can chickpeas, drained and rinsed
1 jalapeno, minced
2 tablespoons of tomato paste diluted in 1/2 cup of water (keep more water on hand, to prevent sticking)

Garnish: reserved julienned ginger, chopped fresh cilantro, finely chopped red onion,a squeeze of lemon juice, slivers of Romaine lettuce.

Serve with: cocktail breads, pita wedges or crostini.

Directions:

1. Heat oil in a large skillet over medium heat.
2. Add the whole spices (all the seeds)cook for 1 or 2 minutes, they should start sputtering.
3. Add other spices, cook for about 1 or 2 minutes and add onions, cook until softening.
4. Now add the chili, sweet potatoes, half the ginger, and garlic. Cook for about 3 to 5 minutes
5. When the sweet potatoes are half-cooked, add chickpeas and jalapeno. And the tomato water. Lower heat and cook 10 to 15 minutes.
6. When done, the sweet potatoes should be just done and the dish should be saucy...but not like a curry. Take off heat.
7. Top with garnishes (except for the lettuce).
8. Serve with bread, allow guests to build their own tidbits --bread + a bed of lettuce (for crunch)+ spiced chickpea & sweetpotato mix. Enjoy!

This post has been brought to you as part of October's #Letslunch twitterparty. Check out all the other yummy posts:

Hapamama's High tea with Taiwanese Sandwiches

Patrick's Welsh Rarebit

Cheryl‘s Cheese and Onion Sarnie at A Tiger In The Kitchen

Emma‘s Brown Sugar Shortbreads With Hawaiian Jam at Dreaming of Pots and Pans

Linda‘s Singapore-Style Ginger Tea & Kaya (Coconut Jam) Toast at Spicebox Travels

Lisa‘s Little Lemon Meringue Tarts at Monday Morning Cooking Club

Rebecca‘s Millionaire’s Shortbread at Grongar Blog

Steff‘s Lemon-Lime Shortbread Cookies at The Kitchen Trials

Q & A with Lisa Fain and giveaway of The Homesick Texan Cookbook

Homesickness is a such a powerful yearning of the soul that it can connect two strangers across a great distance. Even if the strangers had never met. Even if one lived in Texas and the other in New York City. Even if they were each pining for homes left behind in different parts of the world.

I found the Homesick Texan blog when Lisa wrote these words: "When I first moved to New York City and discovered that the Tex-Mex was seriously lacking in this town, I embraced Indian food. Now, if you’re not familiar with Indian cuisine that may seem bizarre. But Indian cuisine is rich with ingredients familiar to Texans, such as cumin, chiles and cilantro." You can find the rest of the post here.

Her words mirrored my experience. When I first moved to the U.S. and Texas, when I found myself missing Bangladesh and my mother's curries, sitting around the family table for meals full of flavors and smells I'd grown up with...I sought out Tex-Mex food.

Over time, I grew to appreciate Tex-Mex food for itself (you couldn't find avocados or guacamole anywhere in Bangladesh, but I absolutely love both!), enjoyed other Texas fare and learned to make curries and other desi foods myself. But I still continue to keep up with the Homesick Texan. And when she published her cookbook, I was overjoyed.

It's more than just a cookbook, it's the words and recipes of a sister traveller. To celebrate her debut release, one lucky person will win a copy of her cookbook. All you have to do is leave a comment about what food takes you home. A randomly drawn winner will be announced Wednesday, September 21.

Here's a Q & A with Lisa. Enjoy!

1) Who inspired you to cook?

Everyone in my family enjoys cooking, and some of my earliest memories are standing in the kitchen with my mom, my dad or my grandparents, watching them prepare dishes. Sometimes they’d even let me help if I wasn’t too busy licking the bowl.

2) What inspired you to write a cookbook?

Writing books has always been a dream of mine, and when enough people suggested that I write a cookbook, it seemed like a natural progression from the work I’d done on the blog.

It’s funny, I started the blog simply to share recipes and photos with friends and family, and never in my wildest dreams did I believe I’d end up writing a book. It’s been a joyful journey!

3) How have you changed since you started blogging?

The blog showed me that there are homesick Texans all over the world—so I felt less alone with my obsession. It’s also revealed to me the power of home cooking as a means of connecting with those that you love.

4) Who is this cookbook meant for?

This cookbook is meant for everyone. Seriously, Texan cuisine is warm and welcoming and I say everyone’s invited to the Texas table!

5)When you miss Texas, what is the one food or flavor that can always comfort you?

A big bowl of homemade Houston-style green sauce.

(Photo Credit goes to Jan Cobb)

To know more about Lisa, check out her Homesick Texan blog. Remember, leave a comment and a way to get in touch with you, and you might win a most drool-worthy book! :)

Let's Celebrate: Samosa-Shingara Pies & (faux) Champagne!

Cheers! Hooray! Let's here it for #Letslunch on its second anniversary!

What's #Letslunch? Why it's one of the most fun groups you'll find in all of twitterverse.Spearheaded by Cheryl Tan (author of the wonderful foodie memoir, A Tiger in the Kitchen), food enthusiasts from all over the world, who come together to share recipes, stories, friendship and virtual lunch in cyberspace. Want to join us? Just send a tweet with the hashtag #LetsLunch!

Anyhoo, we are celebrating this month with Champagne and bubbly-friendly bites. Something special. Of course, that brought up mouth-watering memories of hot shingaras and samosas enjoyed as a treat on wet and chilly Monsoon evenings in my childhood. Ahhh, I miss those treats.

So what are Samosas and Shingaras?

Bangla(my mother tongue) is a very precise language. For example, in English your father's sister is your aunt and your mom's sister is your aunt as well. But Bengalis(the people) would call the first Fooppee and the latter Khala, denoting relationship and respect all at the same time.

So Samosas, in Bangladesh (the country), would be a triangular meat-filled deep fried snack with a crispy-crackly shell.

(The image is from ifood.tv, which has some really good desi recipes)

Shingaras are vegetarian pot-bellied deep-fried faintly triangular snacks with a softer, melt-in-your-mouth crust. The filling is spiced up potatoes and peas and sometimes cauliflower.

(This image is from Pakistani Food Recipes, which has a variety of samosa & shingara recipes from all different places).

I prefer the Shingaras, but I have noticed that online as well as in restaurants, "Samosa" is the go-to word for both the veg and non-veg snacks.Call it by whatever name, every bite is just as yummy!

The reason I don't make them at home is I detest deep frying. Yes, I know I live in TX where they deep fry everything -- from pickles to oreos. And I'll eat these deep-fried delicacies once in a blue moon, but I'm not deep frying. So, I decided to bake. Healthier and easier.

But then, y'all know how I like to play around with tradition and add my own twists. So from my desi-Texas kitchen, you have: bite-sized Samosa-Shingara Pies!

1. Boil some potatoes (I thought the sweetness of a sweet potato would go great in the samosa recipe so in it went). Peel, mash and set aside.

2. Measure out the other ingredients:

1/2 cup minced red onion
1/2-inch ginger, peeled and minced
2 green chillies, minced (I had to skip this for the kidlets)
A small handful of cilatro leaves, finely chopped

Whole Spices/seeds: 1 teaspoon cumin, 1/2 teaspoon caraway, 1/2 teaspoon black mustard seeds, 1/4 teaspoon red pepper flakes

Ground Spices: 1/2 teaspoon salt, 1/2 teaspoon amchur (dried mango powder), 1/2 teaspoon garam masala, 1/4 teaspoon seasoned pepper, 1/2 teaspoon turmeric, 1 teaspoon salt.

3. Heat 2 teaspoons of canola oil in a large pan over medium high heat. Add the whole spices and cook for about 1 minute. (The aroma should have you swooning)
4.Add the onion and chillies (if using), cook until they soften. Add 1 cup frozen green peas, ginger, and ground spices.

5. Cook it all together and sprinkle some water to keep from sticking. About 5 minutes. Add mashed potatoes and gently mix well. It should look like this:

6.Fill in prepared pie shells. I used a refrigerated pie crust, a wine glass to cut the circles out and a 12-count mini-muffin pan.

7. Bake in a 350 oven until the crust is golden. Next time, I might pre-bake the shells and then scoop in the filling. Let rest for 10 minutes. Sprinkle with cilantro (if you really like cilantro, you can also add this to the potato mixture.

8. Serve with your favorite condiment (we went with ketchup for the kids and Green Chili Sauce found in Indian grocery stores for the grownups) and bubbly. Um, yes, our bubbly wasn't exactly Champagne...but the kids really wanted to be part of the celebration. The end result was still fun & yum!

Happy Birthday #Letslunch! And may there be many more :)

Here's other bubbly & bites posts to enjoy:

Cheryl & Mike's Cheddar Pecan Crisps

Steff's Southern Style Finger Foods

Free Range Cookies Cheese Straw Crackers

Zestbakery's Bacon, Apple, Swiss Quiche

Emma's Cold, Cured Salmon

Ellise's Sundried Tomato Pesto Palmiers

Caitlin's Gruyere Lace Cookies

A Pie to Celebrate the Past & Present

The first American food I fell in love with is pecan pie.

I discovered pecan pie in my college cafeteria during my first semester. It was my first fall in America, an unusually (for Houston, TX) cold and gray day. I was missing my parents and home, my favorite foods, in Bangladesh, and sought comfort in something sweet.

Now, we don’t have pecans and pies back home. Bengal (the geographic areas of Bangladesh and Calcutta) enjoys a legendary reputation for sweets, but they are different: sweet orange yogurt (mish-ti doi), puffy white cheese balls in syrup (roshogolla), various pithas (winter sweets), the convoluted hot jilapi (deep fried batter that’s created into intricate circular shapes). The cafeteria didn’t offer any of that, so I had to make do with a selection of unfamiliar pies. Not wanting to hold up the line of hungry students, I grabbed the nearest one.

Since I was in the middle of a personal pity party, I started my meal with dessert. One bite and I fell in love. The whole world faded – the conversations, laughter and shuffling all around me grew muffled, the sharp bite of nostalgia that had gripped me eased and slipped away. I was only aware of the pie and its sweet taste dancing on my tongue.

So when my twitter buddies picked pie for June’s #Letslunch, the choice was obvious: Pecan Pie. But I wanted one that would recognize my roots and celebrate West Texas, a place my heart now calls home.

The first home I knew belonged to my paternal grandparents. Coming from a joint family tradition, we lived in the same house until my grandparents passed away. What I remember best about it is the luxurious garden my grandfather planted with fruit trees like mango, guava, jackfruit and coconut. I always loved the coconut. It’s broad, tall trunk swooping to the sky, only to end in a firework of leaves at the very top. So I wanted the aroma and flavor of coconut and found myself a coconut oil crust recipe.

For the filling, I went to my mother-in-law. I often tell the Cowboy that one of the reasons I married him is his mother’s Pecan Pie. He thinks I’m joking. :)

Anyhoo, I asked for the recipe and she said “Oh that’s not my pie, I got the recipe from my mother-in-law.” Then she passed it on to me.

Pie Crust: Adapted from a recipe I found on Coconut Oil Online website (I figured since they are in the business of selling coconut oil, they’d include recipes that work).

2 1/2 cups all-purpose unbleached flour
1 teaspoon salt
2 Tablespoon sugar
¾ cup chilled, unsalted butter (I ended up putting ½ cup since that’s what I had)
6 Tablespoons coconut oil
2 teaspoons apple cider vinegar
¼ cup ice water

Directions:

Use a food processor to combine the dry ingredients with the butter and coconut oil. Pulse until the largest bits of butter are pea-sized.
Dump this mixture into a bowl.

Add the cider vinegar to the water. Then add this mixture a couple of tablespoons at a time to your flour mixture, toss with a fork.

At this point, the pie crust mix should be forming balls. You can squeeze and pat the mix into one big ball, but DO NOT knead.

Divide the dough into 2 equal pieces. Wrap in plastic wrap and press down to make a thick disk. Refrigerate for at least an hour before using.

Neat trick I picked up from a friend: When rolling out, place each disk between two sheets of plastic wrap (or plastic wrap & wax paper), roll it out. Remove the top plastic, then using the bottom and a pie pan flip the dough over and into the pan. Now it’s ready to be filled!

Grandma Pauline Michalewicz’s Pecan Pie filling: I love this because it’s not as sweet as some other pecan pie fillings and it’s a family tradition.:)

¼ teaspoon salt
2 Tablespoons flour
1 cup brown sugar (I replaced that with ½ cup of Splenda brown sugar)
3 eggs
¾ cup milk
2 teaspoons vanilla
1 cup white syrup
2 cups chopped pecans

Directions:

In a small bowl, mix together salt, flour and brown sugar. Set aside.

In a larger bowl, incorporate the liquid ingredients: eggs to syrup.

Mix in the dry mix. When it’s a caramel colored slurry, add in the chopped pecans.

Divide the filling between two unbaked pie shells.

Bake at 350 degrees for 40 minutes or until lightly golden. Note: the coconut oil pie shells are paler than butter-only shells. But oh my, the house smells like a tropical vacation!

Here are other #Letslunch posts for you to enjoy:

FreeRangeCookie's Dirt Pie with Compost Cookie Crust

Chezus' Summer Chicken Pot Pie

Cheryl Tan's Japanese Curry Pot Pie

Hobnob's Spanakopita & Rhubarb Crisp

Showfood Chef's Nutella Hand Pies

Zestbakery's Lime Custard n Curd Pie

San Angelo Eat Local Challenge

I once had a very interesting conversation with a young lady about bread. I asked her if she knew where bread came from. Her quick quip: the bread aisle in my grocery store? Yes, she was being funny, but she'd also never made bread.Never selected the flour, never seen yeast bubble, never let her hands play with a ball of dough.

Unfortunately I've had too many conversations like that with too many young people. And I started wondering, why? Circumstances.

Growing up in Bangladesh, I was very lucky to have a baker for a mother. I grew up swooning on the smell of fresh baked bread. The house I grew up in was surrounded by a huge garden filled with fruit trees -- mango, papaya, jackfruit, and guava. We grew spinach, potatoes and gourds.

As an adult, I'm very lucky to have married into a West Texas farming family. For generations, the Cowboy and his family have been raising their own food and raising crops to sell.

Most of the meat in my freezer comes from freshly butchered animals from the one of the family farms or 4-H projects, and deer hunted by hunters in the family.

When building a house together, the Cowboy and I chose a 1-acre lot just so we could garden. We've grown eggplants, peas, potatoes, acorn squash and tomatoes. Every year, we try something new. What we don't have we get from the gardens of family and friends, or we supplement by shopping at the Concho Valley Farmer's Market.

The bread conversation, and others like it, has made me emphasize local food, gardens, farmers, and cooking to my own kids. I want them to know food, enjoy it, celebrate what it take to bring to the table.

Then I found out about the NOLA LOCAVORES and their first annual New Orleans Eat Local Challenge. I was awed, impressed and inspired. What a great idea.

This led me to embark on my own Eat Local Challenge, create a facebook page and led me to write an article to rally other West Texans. So from June 1-30, I'll be doing my best to Eat Local. Want to join us?

A friend I've never met & arm-chair travels to exotic kitchens

I've a confession to make: I'm at heart a techno-phobe. My sister bullied and bribed me into trying Facebook, my hubby insisted having a cellphone (a charged and functioning one) was a safety issue, and, after surviving those experiences, I got brave and ventured onto Twitter.

At first I was completely lost. Thankgoodness I found Cheryl Tan and her #LetsLunch bunch, a group of food enthusiasts from all over the world, who come together to share recipes, stories, friendship and virtual lunch in cyberspace. They helped me not only settle into Twitterverse, but have fun doing it. They're also the reason this blog exists.

Cheryl Tan

Somewhere along the way, I fell in love with their words, food and passions. They've become my go-to-sources on recipes and food advice. If one of them is having a bad day, I take the time to send an encouraging tweet. If one of them has something to celebrate, I add my tweet of congratulations to the pile. In other words, even though we've never met, I consider Cheryl & the #LetsLunch bunch my friends.

Cheryl's debut book, A Tiger in the Kitchen, came out earlier this month. The story is about her journey back to Singapore to reconnect with her family through a year of cooking and collecting recipes and stories.

Being a woman who straddles two cultures(born and brought up in Bangladesh and now making a home in West Texas),I had to read the book. And her publisher was kind enough to send me a copy. As I started reading, I traveled to the New York fashion scene, to a Singaporean funeral, to the kitchens of women half-way across the world. What a journey!

The San Angelo Standard-Times was kind enough to let me write a review.

To Cheryl: May there be more stories, more friends, and more feasting.

To learn more about Cheryl, check out her blog.

Tea Time for the Soul

Sometimes life knows better than I do about what I need.

Recently, I came home to a phone message from my Turkish friend, Saleha, inviting me to an afternoon tea the next day. I called her back to decline. I love Saleha and I love her cooking, but I had a hectic weekend scheduled.

When Saleha mentioned the tea was at 1 p.m., my food loving self piped up: ha, you’ve to drop the kids off at art class about that time anyway. How often do you get Turkish food? My writing self countered: you’ll actually have some peace and quiet, and you planned to write. How often do you get that chance? So they negotiated down to: just go for a little while.

Since the invitation was just for ladies, the Cowboy ended up taking the kids to art class and I went to tea (yes, I brought back goodies for the wonderful man). Saleha had prepared a feast: a red lentil soup, bulgur salad, and two different types of breads. One lady had brought a chocolate-covered Hawaiian bread and another had bought carrot cake. And of course there was hot tea, a beautiful, translucent burnished orange tea. Mine came in a traditional short glass with its tiny metal platter and spoon. I added my sugar and stirred, took a sip. One taste of that sweet, warm tea and my entire being relaxed.

Now I’d chosen my seat specifically to be able to keep an eye on the clock Saleha had hanging on a wall. But then the eating and talking began. I reached for a perfect round bun, shiny and brown, decorated with a sprinkle of black nigella seeds. I bit into the soft, buttery bread and discovered a delicious surprise: cheese and parsley hidden deep in the heart. The Turkish pogca (pronounced poh-cha) is a perfect treat.

Saleha shared the good news of her son’s engagement. Hearty congratulations rang out and more tea was sipped. We teased her about how worried she’d been about finding someone to take care of her son. We talked about our respective countries – Turkey, Jerusalem, Bangladesh, commiserated over bad politics and the expense of air travel.

We spoke of our new year celebrations. A friend spoke of her disappointment when ill health kept one of her children from travelling, but her other children rallied the family and off they escaped to the serenity of Big Bend. They hiked, they laughed, they celebrated family.

Somehow talk turned to fears. One lady treated herself to a spiritual retreat to celebrate the new year and drove to a hill country resort all by herself, terrified that she’d get lost. Well, she made it there and back. We told her, “You did it” and drank more tea.

My friend, Ara, told us about jumping off a cliff to paraglide. I think all the eyebrows around the table jumped to the ceiling and back. Why, we asked her.

“I didn’t have much choice,” she said, adding that she’d been in the company of her youngest daughter and so had to think about what message she wanted to communicate, what kind of example she wanted to set. “Plus,” she added with a shrug, ”all my kids are grown, I had a good life and so I decided what happens, happens.”

I shared my fear of heights and a story about a terrifying car trip to Aspen, where we had to travel a narrow and steep winding mountain road with no protective barriers. And Ara said, “But you’re a journalist and you’ve done so much.” Yes, but I’m also human. And part of being human is being afraid. What we are afraid of is as different as the different shades of human skin –some could be afraid of something as small as a common spider or something as big as death. Do we let fear stop us, or change our course? Do we face it down and work through it? Or do we thumb our noses at our fears and become daredevils? How each of us deals with our fears is what defines us.

Of course, talk turned to tea. The process of tea making, the different types of teas, the use of loose-leaf teas vs. tea bags. I’ve since learned that green tea, oolong and black tea are different classifications determined by how the leaves are processed. However, there are many sub-species of the tea plant and white tea is produced from the mature buds of a rare tea bush found in China.

Saleha shared that in Turkey women often come together for tea parties and wished her friends in San Angelo could visit more often.

Her words reminded my childhood home in Bangladesh. Tea was served at least twice– at breakfast and at tea time (4 p.m. precisely). Tea was made whenever guests dropped in, whatever the time. The Bengali’s tea-drinking habit is one of the few positive leftover legacies of British colonialism and we brew it strong and take it with milk and sugar. With garam cha (hot tea), there had to be some nashta (nibbles) and, of course, adda –a discussion that covered any and every topic under the sun.

So an impromptu invitation to tea by my Turkish-American friend took me half-way across the world and back in time when life was as sweet and nourishing as a cup of hot tea. I left Saleha’s house hours later than I’d intended but full of stories, full of good food and full of happiness. On the drive back, I made myself a promise: I must have more tea parties.

Ginger Tea

Whenever my mother heard any of us sniffle or cough, she’d rush into the kitchen and brew us some ginger tea to sooth the throat and chase off the cold. As a child, I thought it vile. But as I grew up, I grew to enjoy it. Now I make it if either Alvin or I are feeling under the weather or just to warm us up on a cold, gray day.

½-inch piece of ginger, peeled and crushed
1 cup water
1/8 teaspoon of black tea leaves or a tea bag of your favorite tea (a fruity flavored tea works good)
Sugar to taste
Lemon slices (optional)

Directions:
Place water and ginger in a small non-reactive sauce pan and bring to a boil, lower heat and simmer for about 2 to 5 minutes. Take off heat and add tea leaves and brew to desired strength (I prefer a bright rich color). Using a strainer, pour into a cup. Add in sugar and a squeeze of lemon (if using), stir and serve.

Holiday Side: Festive Green Beans with a taste of Bengal, a touch of curry

Panch Phoron, is a spice blend, close to my heart.

The sizzle and sputter of the spices in hot oil, the savory-sweet scent released into the air, transports me back to my childhood home in Bangladesh. The name translates to “five spices” in the Bengali language and consists of equal measures of fenugreek (methi), nigella seed (kalo jeera), cumin (jeera), black mustard (shorsha), and fennel (mouri). It is almost exclusively found in the kitchen of cooks with roots in the Bengali culture, usually from Bangladesh, Assam, West Bengal and Orissa. The seeds are left whole so the flavors change from bite to bite, yet all five work together like fingers on a hand.

So for my first Let’s Lunch post, I decided to reach for this old favorite and create a holiday side bursting with color and taste.

My mother uses panch phoron to transform simple dishes of vegetable, lentils or fish to swoon-worthy delicacies. Just a whiff of the earthy fragrance makes my mouth water. So I paired this with green beans, butternut squash and red bell peppers.

The first step is to cook the spice blend in hot oil for a minute or two. The heat should make the spices pop and liberate their essential oils and aroma. This is a process known as “phoron” or “baghar” in Bengali.

The first veggie added in the squash, because it would take the longest to cook. I also tossed in a bit of turmeric, cayenne, and ground cumin – ingredients traditionally found in curries of the Indian-subcontinent. My mother would shake her head here, but hey, I’m a girl who likes to add her own twist.

Part way through the cooking, I add the tomatoes.  I also keep some water at hand and add splashes here and there to prevent sticking.  All these kitchen tips and tricks were learned at my mom’s side. Thanks mom!

When the squash is half-cooked, add in green beans and garlic. Save the bell peppers for the last five minutes. The vegetables should be just done, still bright with color.

Not your traditional green bean casserole, but an exotic alternative. My DH, the Cowboy, has already declared it a winner and requested it for our Christmas Eve dinner.  Maybe it’ll become a new tradition, perfect for our East-West household.

This post has been brought to you thanks to the Lets Lunch bunch, a group of food enthusiasts from all over, who come together to share recipes, stories, friendship and virtual lunch in cyberspace. To give full credit, actually this entire blog came into existence because I wanted to join in the fun and this group was the kick-in-the-rear I needed (I know, waaay late to the party…but here). So thanks #Letslunch pals, this one’s for you.

Check out some of the other Lets Lunch holiday sides:

The Kitchen Trials' Parker House Rolls

Free Range Cookies' Green Bean Casserole 

Cooking in the Fruit Bowl's Kimchi Risotto Bake

The Cowgirl Chef's Mushroom-Leek Quinoa Salad

If you'd like to join Let's Lunch, go to Twitter and post a message with the hashtag #Letslunch

Recipe: Festive Green Beans with a taste of Bengal, a touch of curry

2 tablespoons vegetable oil

2 teaspoons panch phoron (you can buy the mix in Indian grocery stores, online, or make your own)

½ a medium onion, sliced lengthwise

1 teaspoon ginger, peeled and slivered

2 cups butternut squash, peeled and diced (I kept them on the small side to cook faster)

½ teaspoon turmeric

1 teaspoon ground cumin

¼ teaspoon cayenne powder (or more if you like heat)

1/8 teaspoon black pepper

¾ teaspoon salt

2 to 3 Roma tomatoes, diced (juice and all)

12-ounces green beans, washed and trimmed

3 to 4 garlic cloves, peeled and minced (I actually pound mine into an almost-paste)

1 red bell pepper, cleaned and diced into 1-inch pieces

Directions

Heat oil in a skillet over medium heat

Add the panch phoron and cook for a minute or two. When it becomes fragrant, add in onion and ginger, cook until onion is soft and translucent.

Add in the butternut squash and the curry spices (turmeric to salt), stir and cook for about a minute or two (this cuts the raw flavor of the spices), add the tomatoes and cook some more. If your spices start sticking to the bottom of the pan, add splashes of water as needed (just enough to keep cooking and prevent burning).

When the butternut is half-done, add the green beans and garlic. Stir gently and cook for three minutes.

Add the bell pepper and cook another five minutes, or until the veggies are just done.

Enjoy!

Recipes for Curried Chickpea & Vegetable Pulao from India Day

Once you leave a continent, the political borders of individual countries often cease to matter as much, become less of a divisive wall. If I ran into another American in France, for a moment at least, I wouldn’t be from Texas and he wouldn’t be from New York. We'd both be Americans. If we were trying to settle in a new country, most likely we’d share Thanksgiving and July 4^th and other holidays. Because at that point what matters most is that common bond – America.

Similarly, people who come from different parts of the Indian-subcontinent, whether from Bangladesh or Sri Lanka tend to hang out together and identify themselves as desi or deshi. Desh means land. We are ultimately from the same land.

So when the local museum wanted to celebrate India and our small Indian-American community  asked me to help...I made my curried chickpeas and joined the party.

Preeti creates Henna Designs.

Usha paints a rangoli

To read my article on the event or to check out the recipes, click here.