Tuesday, 5 April 2016

Methi Matar Malai

Hello, boys and girls!

Welcome to cooking with Varun! Most families have a big group of friends that consist of other families (you know, the people you refer to as family friends?). My family is no different, and nearly as far back as I can remember, we've had the nicest, warmest, most fun family friends. From the big uncle who can (and does) dance circles around anybody, to one that puts out the best spread, the aunties who treat you like one of their own, and of course, the kids (although we're all grown-up now), we've got all types. Over the years, we've had countless get-togethers, been on picnics, danced at weddings, had Diwali parties, barbeques, the whole gamut!

Many (many) years ago, when I was still in school, all the family friends had gone out to one of the local clubs for dinner. There were 5 or 6 families, all the kids, and as is often the case, some kids were more annoying than others. I wouldn't say I was a saint, I could be a complete jerk at times, and (sadly?) this is one of those times. One of the attendees was one of my sister's best friends, Ms. Once Annoying, a girl who really set my teeth on edge. I don't know what it was about her but for some reason she really got under my skin. I mean, she's a perfectly lovely person now, but back then I just didn't like her. So there we were, sitting at a huge table by the poolside, the table groaning under the weight of all the food and drink that had been ordered. The adults at one end of the table talking about whatever it was adults in the '90s spoke of, us kids at the other end being kids. I finished eating a little before the others and not wanting to wait for the others to finish before the waiter got the finger bowls (basically a bowl of hot water with a wedge of lemon to wash your fingers in after a meal), I went to the loo and used the sink there to wash my hands. I returned to my seat, and one by one, as people finished eating, the waiters brought in the finger bowls. Having already washed my hands, I didn't really need it, but the warm water felt good on my fingers so I dipped my hands in for a bit. I think it was about then that evil me decided to play a prank on Ms. Once Annoying. When she wasn't looking, I nudged the others, poured the water in my bowl into a glass, squeezed the lemon in, and offered it to her as nimbu paani (lemon squash), under the pretext that I had ordered it but no longer wanted it, and that it would go to waste. She took the offered glass, took a sip, and immediately spit it out as the rest of us dissolved into peals of laughter. 

I'm not proud of it, but like I said, kids can be jerks, and this time, I was the mean one. Incidentally, Ms. Once Annoying's mum is vegetarian and would generally order malai koftas or methi matar malai, and that is how I first tried this dish.

For my Methi Matar Malai, you will need the following:

Methi (fenugreek leaves) couple of large handfuls
Matar (green peas) 1 cup
Onion 1
Ginger 1" piece
Green chillies 2-3
Cashews 8-10
Elaichi (cardamom) 1
Cloves 2
Cinnamon tiny piece
Jeera (cumin seeds) 2 tsp
Garam masala 1/2 tsp
Milk 2 big splashes
Cream 2 big squirts from the pack
Salt to taste
Oil/ghee/butter

Prep:
  1. Chop the onion.
  2. Chop the ginger.
  3. Cut up the chillies.
  4. Grab a deep pan.
  5. Ping your peas in.
  6. Top with water.
  7. Pinch of salt.
  8. Bung it on the gas.
  9. Boil until the peas are cooked.
  10. Turn off the gas.
  11. Drain and keep aside.
  12. Roughly chop the methi.
Method:
  1. Turn on the gas.
  2. Bung a pan on.
  3. Splash in some oil (or ghee, or butter).
  4. Pop in the elaichi.
  5. Toss in the cloves.
  6. Throw in the cinnamon.
  7. Pop in the onions.
  8. Throw in the chillies.
  9. Slide in the ginger.
  10. Cook until the onions become translucent.
  11. Turn the gas off. 
  12. Wait for the contents to cool.
  13. Empty the contents into a blender.
  14. Bounce in the cashews.
  15. Blitz.
  16. Turn on the gas.
  17. Bung the pan back on.
  18. Splash in some more oil.
  19. Pinch in the jeera. 
  20. Wait for it to pop.
  21. Spoon in the paste.
  22. Cook until it no longer smells raw and goes only slightly darker in colour.
  23. Roll in the peas.
  24. Shake in the methi.
  25. Mix.
  26. Sprinkle on the garam masala.
  27. Add salt to taste.
  28. Mix.
  29. Wait until the methi wilts.
  30. Drop the heat to a touch above low.
  31. Splash in the milk.
  32. Cook for a couple of minutes.
  33. Stir in the cream.
  34. Cook for another couple of minutes.
  35. Turn off the gas.
  36. Cook together for a another couple of minutes.
  37. Turn the gas off.
  38. Serve with hot rotis.
  39. Stuff face.
  40. Bask in the glory of your successfully executed dish.

Tip: I added haldi to mine, it didn't really change the flavour. Just gave it a tinge of yellow. You needn't bother. 

And remember, overeating is a myth. A fully tummy is a happy tummy!

2 comments:

  1. Haha...One of my friend's kid on one such occasion when they were out eating at a club,very supremely went to the nearby table and started eating whatever it was they were having..
    I am sure it smells as good as it tastes..

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Ah, to be a kid again, and do inappropriate things without the fear of repercussions!

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