Showing posts with label Turkish. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Turkish. Show all posts

Saturday 20 July 2013

Passing the baton

Börek Batons


We line up to buy the börek in front of the Turkish kiosk in Queen Victoria Market . This is one place in orderly, monochronic Melbourne where shopkeepers don’t do just the one thing at a time and customers don’t line up in a single file, forgetting to observe their unspoken code of personal and public space.

And so naturally, this is that one place that even I have no qualms in pushing my way through or egging the girls to go forward edging out people pushing past you and jumping the queue.

Why? Well, if you tarry out of politeness, you lose your turn grabbing the hot batons called böreks. They hardly ever stay on the bain-marie on the counter, what with people swarming like feeding fish (piranhas?) around it the minute a batch comes out of the oven…

Are these böreks so good then?


Well, they are OK… could do with a little more salt – perhaps some more spice. The garlic is too overpowering and the parsley could have been chopped finer. Could do with a little mint? No nigella seeds…

“Well, why don’t you make them at home then? Wow! Look at that – this is such an enviable business, where they have to send away people or make them wait”, says the husband. “This is the kind of business one should have!”

I look at him a little alarmed – do I detect more admiration loaded on to the second sentence? Was the first remark, incidental, or - a way to shut me up?

But maybe not – let me not be so petty, possessive… “I can, and will make this at home, and much much better”, I mutter…

But all this while, the words of Patrick, our advisor ring in my ears.

“Once an entrepreneur, always an entrepreneur”, says Pat every time we see him and he asks us what we are up to. “And you don’t have to spend a decade with a business like you did with your last, you’re so imaginative – you can be a serial entrepreneur!”

Why does this seem like getting a suggestion – or blessing- to become a serial k-er-entrepreneur?

But he is right, I think. It may not be so bad. In fact, I quite fancy that role of an entrepreneur who continuously conjures up new ideas to start a new business.

Moreover, at this stage in my life, if I could start up an innovative project and give it away to someone to manage, I would be happy (and relieved) to hand over the baton to someone else and move on to a new idea and a new venture. I will also be sharing my knowledge and skills with others and learning from them.

On a selfish note, how else will I be able to manage and see to fruition all my brainwaves and idea-sprouts as well as people’s unsolicited/solicited suggestions? – an iconoclastic gourmet Indian restaurant that serves more than the regulation paneer and makhni types, a puranpoli by order business, a daily dubba business, a food van that sets up shop every day at a different venue, a typical Maharashtrian घरगुती खानावळ (home made food restaurant) , a bhajjia/pakora kiosk that pops up on the corner of Lonsdale Street when it rains, corporate training events like cookery for teambuilding…

The ideas keep streaming, seamless… then reason, that spoilsport devil in an advocate’s robe robs me of the momentary pleasure of daydreaming…

Why, oh why remind me of the ungodly hours of sheer hard labour, the possibility of the resurgence of my frozen shoulder, the growing stiffness in my weather weary bones on cold mornings, the pilferage by helpers, the …and uncountable other immitigable menaces that defy any risk assessment and management…

Sigh.

Oh well, perhaps I should start a business that selling such ideas only…

Before Beelzebub in black peers over my shoulder, let me finish telling you about the absolutely delish turkish böreks I made the other day.

Make these böreks at home, and tell me if they weren’t better than the VicMarket ones.

Keep passing the baton…



Börek Batons

For the filling

4 medium potatoes, boiled, peeled and roughly mashed
1 medium Spanish onion, thinly sliced
1 tsp garlic, finely minced
4 tbsp chopped flat leaf parsley
2 tbsp chopped mint
½ cup feta crumbled cheese
1 tsp crushed red chilli
1 tbsp olive oil
1 tbsp butter
Salt and pepper to taste


Method

Heat a pan and add the olive oil and butter. Add the sliced onions and sauté for a minute. Add the garlic and sauté a little more. Now add the mashed potatoes and cook for a few minutes. Remove from the heat and add the rest of the ingredients. Check and adjust the taste. Set aside to cool.

For the pastry

3 cups plain flour, sifted
1 tsp (7g/1 sachet) dried yeast
1 tsp sugar
1 tsp salt
1 cup warm water
2-3 tsp nigella seeds
1 egg
2 tbs olive oil

Method 

In a bowl, mix the sugar and warm water. Sprinkle the yeast on the surface and a keep covered in a warm place for about 10 minutes.  Combine flour and salt in another bowl. Make a well in the centre, then add the yeast water and break an egg into the flour. Mix well and knead into a dough. Turn the dough onto a lightly floured surface and knead for 10 minutes or until smooth and elastic.

Brush a bowl with oil and place the dough in the bowl and lightly coat with oil. Cover with a damp tea towel or cling film. Set aside in a warm place for about 40 mins to an hour or until the dough has doubled in size. Punch the dough back once and keep for some more time till it has risen again.

Divide the dough into four portions. Sprinkle the nigella seeds on the rolling surface and roll out into thin rectangles and cut each rectangle into half, making two rectangles. Place the filling in the centre of each rectangle and fold it over, in a roll or baton shape, making sure the edges overlap. Pinch the ends together.

Place these rolled börek batons, edges down and gently dab a pastry brush dipped in milk or egg on the surface.  

Preheat oven to 200°C. Place baking tray on the middle shelf of the oven.

Cook for 8-10 minutes or until golden. Cool on a wire rack.

Serve hot.


Remember - hot is what sells!



Tuesday 5 February 2013

Unforgettable lessons

Tzatziki 




A Marathi adage calls a time when mothers eat before feeding their children an apocalypse or the mythical kalyug - the “age of downfall”. Our mothers (and their mothers before them) have reinforced this tradition of feeding the family first in their very giving and nurturing ways.  To this day, since in her old age she needs to eat early, Mother feels remorseful that she has eaten before her kids.

When she (and we) were much younger, Mother would always place herself the last in the pecking order – only in its strictest and most literal sense, mind you! But I also remember that one time when my brother and I were once very surprised- no, make it shocked- when we chanced upon Mother delicately sipping at a lovely bright green coloured drink. Our first reaction was to demand to know what she was drinking and protest why she hadn’t offered us any. But she refused to give us even a nip, while sporting a very mysterious, mischievous smile. 


The more we pestered mother, the more resolutely, but pleasantly she denied us.





We were baffled. This was so uncharacteristic of her. Wasn’t she supposed to be the epitome of sacrifice and selflessness- it’s surprising how even as little kids, we have this expectation built into our genetic coding!  

When we wouldn’t give up, she agreed - though not without some hesitation and a by-now fast widening naughty smile. 

Exhilarated by our victory, blissfully oblivious to any possibility of foul play, we proceeded to partake the elixir. 

It was the bitterest briny brew ever! The juice of the bitter gourd, or bitter melon or karela that Mother had extracted from the vegetable with the help of plenty of salt, to relieve it of its bitterness before cooking. 

Before her guffaws and our squeals and rants and whines had subsided, we had learnt some very important lessons in the kitchen of life. 

Lesson No. 1 - Never discard the tender/edible seeds of vegetables like tomato, cucumber, bottle gourd and even bitter gourd (whose tough woody seeds are actually very tasty!). They add precious nutrition, roughage, texture and volume to the dishes. 

Lesson No. 2 –Ditto with edible peels of cucumber, potatoes, tomatoes, and the gourds, for their rich coloured skins can provide so much fibre, colour, and crispness apart from food values, and don’t taste bad at all? 

Lesson No. 3 – Ditto again with squeezing out the juice of vegetables. In case you have to squeeze the juice out for you don’t have the guts to go against the recipe, why throw it away? You can always use the essence elsewhere – cucumber juice can go into your sambar, whey from hung curd and paneer can go into a kadhi or used to knead dough, peels can be made into chutneys and condiments…

P.S.  Bitter gourd juice can be used to teach your children these lessons.







Tzatziki

Tzatziki is a sauce or dip used in Greek and Turkish cuisine as meze or appetiser. It is made with hung curd (usually from sheep or goat milk) and mixed with peeled, grated or finely chopped and squeezed cucumbers, garlic, salt, olive oil and lemon juice.  Dill, mint or parsley are some of the herbs that season it. 

The tzatziki is well within our Indian comfort zone - for it is a second cousin of the kheerey ka raita and kakadichi koshimbir.

I have used all the ingredients without straining whey, peeling skins, discarding seeds and squeezing out juice. 

Remember the unforgettable lessons?

Ingredients 

1 ½ cups regular yoghurt (You could use Greek yogurt if you don’t want the whey on your hands!) 
2 Lebanese cucumbers or kheera, grated (Don’t you dare discard the peels and seeds!) 
2 garlic cloves, crushed finely
1 tbsp lemon juice (or less if the yoghurt is quite sour)
1 tbsp olive oil
Salt to taste
Ground white pepper to taste
Rocket leaves to garnish

(You can add mint, dill parsley or coriander if you like - I added some rocket as that was the only fresh green thingie in the fridge for dolling up the dish for the photo!)

Method

Combine yoghurt, cucumber, garlic, lemon juice, white pepper and salt in a bowl. Cover and refrigerate for a while.

Serve as a dip with pita crisps or warm toasted Turkish bread drizzled with olive oil, crackers and crudités (mind you- no peels to be removed!). You can even or pour it as a sauce on pita pockets filled with falafels. 

If you want to extrapolate and take away learning points other than those bitter lessons, add garlic to your "dahi ani kakadichi koshimbir".

This is my first entry for my blogger friend Preeti Deo's Ruchira giveaway event.