Gajar Ki Rabdi

Hello, boys and girls!

Welcome to cooking with Varun! Back in 2016 when I was in Istanbul, Turkey, things were exploding around me. Literally. Spots I used to hang out were being targeted and there was cloud of fear that hung over the place. I hung around for as long as I dared, but after the coup, I knew it was time to go. 

I booked my travel, packed my bags (with great difficulty since I had to part with a LOT of extra things that exceeded the paltry baggage allowance), commissioned my friend, Khal Haivan, to help with my stuff, and on the day, hailed a taxi to take me to the airport. Khal Haivan helped me load my suitcases into the boot and got into the cab with me. The airport was about an hour away, but having gotten acquainted with Istanbul's (terrible) traffic situation and the airport's tightened security checks, we left around 4 hours before the flight time to make sure I got there on time. 

We cruised for the first 40 minutes. There was little to no traffic and I was thinking to myself how it was good that I'd carried an extra book to read since I was going to have a long wait. Then, unsurprisingly, we began to slow down as traffic started to get heavy. With plenty of time to spare, I was feeling pretty relaxed in the knowledge that we'd still get there with more than enough time to spare. Our taxi driver, however, had other ideas. Tired of sitting in traffic, he opted to take a side road that was a little longer but had far fewer vehicles. We drove for a few minutes only to be stopped by a police barricade telling us that the road was closed. Not one to give up, our self proclaimed hero, Cabman, took another side road, and then a few more only to end up at more barricades until I finally figured out (since my Turkish was limited to a few words and phrases) that all approach roads to the airport were closed barring the main road following an attack at the airport a few days prior. I checked the GPS, and it still showed us getting there with a little under 3 hours to spare so I wasn't too fussed. Cabman refused to give up and after  driving to an intersection, began driving in reverse. Assuming he'd just missed an exit, I didn't give it much thought but  about 50 meters in, I realized the idiot was attempting to reverse up the last 1 km up the highway on the shoulder of the wrong side of the road. As we reversed into a bend in the road, it happened. I saw his eyes widen, his lips part as he mouthed an expletive, and almost instinctively I leaned forward and braced myself for impact. With an ear piercing screech and crunch, the fender of an oncoming car crashed into the boot of our taxi. The back window shattered and glass rained down on us. Khal Haivan's body jerked as the impact had caught him off guard, and a long second later the smell of leaking petrol hit my nostrils. Shaking and covered in glass, we got out of the cab to be met by the wreckage of the car that had crashed into us and the mess that used to be our boot. After the trembling subsided, we managed to pry open what remained of the boot and pulled out my now damaged suitcases. With time running out, we tried to flag down another taxi. Cabman came up to us and demanded his fare. With damaged suitcases, a bleeding finger thanks to the broken glass, and a whiplashed friend, I told him I wasn't paying him and told him where he could go. Cabman didn't speak any English but the finger I was holding up gave him the general idea of what I was saying. He made a grab for my suitcase and I was painfully close to punching him in his idiot face when Khal Haivan stopped me and said it wasn't worth it. My flight was in less than 2 hours and it was pointless starting trouble now. I threw some money in Cabman's face and got into another cab that looped around and joined the traffic on the right side of the road. 

With traffic getting worse and the clock ticking, we reached the airport with just over an hour to go, I made a mad dash to the first security checkpoint setting off every alarm they had because I forgot to empty my pockets and take my belt off. After a lengthy pat down, I grabbed my things and tried to find the counter, my jeans threatening to slip off my bum since I didn't have the time to put my belt back on. I reached sweaty, disheveled, and with broken baggage managed to check my bags in. I was told to hurry up as I bid my injured friend goodbye at the line for immigration checks and after standing in line for 20 minutes and having moved 12 feet, I had to do the thing I despise most. I begged my way past people standing ahead of me to get to the counter. I cleared immigration, rushed through security, and ran pell-mell across the airport to reach my gate which had started boarding. I got on the plane and sat down with a sigh of relief, my hands still shaking, and very uncharacteristically had a glass of wine to help calm my nerves.

As good as Turkish taxi drivers are with their driving skills (barring the buffoon I had the misfortune of riding with), what they sorely lack, is patience, which is key if you are going to cook this dish.

For my Gajar Ki Rabdi, you will need the following: 

Milk	1 litre
Carrots	2 medium
Sugar	10-12 tsp
Cardamoms	2-3
Cornflour	2 tsp
Almonds	handful

Prep:

1. Grate the carrots. (A great bicep workout if you don't have a food processor!)
2. Mix the cornflour in a splash of cold milk to make a slurry.
3. Roughly chop the almonds.

Method:

1. Turn on the gas.
2. Crank it up to high.
3. Bung a heavy bottomed pan on.
4. Pour in the milk.
5. Toss in the cardamoms.
6. Wait for the milk to come to a boil.
7. Look away for a split second.
8. Turn back to see the milk boiling over and getting all over the cooktop.
9. Quickly drop the heat to low.
10. Cry.
11. Stop crying because there is no point crying over split milk.
12. Wipe tears.
13. Realize you weren't crying because you split milk. You were crying because you have a massive mess to clean up.
14. Cry again.
15. Stop crying.
16. Wipe tears.
17. Crank the heat up to medium to bring the milk to a simmer.
18. Pop in the grated carrots.
19. Mix.
20. Drop the heat to low.
21. Let it boil and reduce for about 45 minutes to an hour (stir at intervals when you get bored).
22. Spoon in the sugar.
23. Mix well.
24. Add in the cornflour slurry to thicken.
25. Simmer for a little longer until it reaches the desired consistency.
26. Throw in most of the almonds.
27. Mix.
28. Let cool.
29. Garnish with the remaining almonds.
30. Serve. (Hot or cold, your call. Just don't forget to scrape and lick the sticky bits off the pan!).
31. Stuff face.
32. Bask in the glory of your successfully  executed dish.

Tip: Feel free to try other (natural) sweeteners if sugar isn't for you.

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

Sour Cream & Dill Dip

Hello, boys and girls!

Welcome to cooking with Varun. Back in September 2013, my friends and I made a trip to Durdle Door, in the south of England. I made the trip down to my friends' home in Southampton from Solihull, and another friend came down from Sheffield. From there, we rented a car and drove to the famous limestone arch.

We left in the morning and after about an hour and a half, we arrived at our destination. It was a lovely sunny day, deceptively warm for September, as we stood in the bright sunshine and drank in the glorious view from the top of the cliff. The beach stretched out below us, the water was a beautiful blue, and only a few people dotted the landscape. We began our journey down to the pebble beach and then to find a spot to set up our little picnic. We put our bags down, spread our sheet out, and plonked ourselves on the stones and gazed at the arch across the 50m stretch of ocean that separated us from it (but not before we had numbed our toes by testing the water). As we sat there, we heard squealing and splashing and turned to see a group of people a little further down on our right who had actually gone into the water for a swim. Not to be outdone, my friend, Mr. Back-Of-The-Net stood up and announced that he was going for a swim too and that we should join him. We agreed (albeit reluctantly) and I borrowed a pair of shorts from him and went to change hurriedly behind a big bush lest someone at the top of the cliff happen to look down and be greeted by the sight of the sun shining off my bare bottom. Knowing that the water was colder than my wife's feet in a warm bed, the only way I was getting in was with a running start. So I took a few steps back, ran, and leaped in. For the first 2 or 3 seconds, nothing happened; then the pain started. Pain like I had never experienced before. It felt like my entire body was simultaneously on fire and being stabbed by thousands of needles. I knew then that I had 2 choices. The smart choice, to get out, dry off, put on my heaviest jumper and drink something hot. The not so smart choice, to stay in there and swim around until my body got used to the cold and the pain subsided. Needless to say, I'm not a smart guy. I stayed, and for the next few minutes bade farewell to my extremities as the cold slowly took away all feeling. Then as quickly as it had started to fade, I started to get feeling back in my limbs and we did the most logical thing we could think of. We swam farther in. Towards the arch until we reached the base. At this point we were feeling pretty good about ourselves so instead of turning around and swimming back to the shore, we reached out, grabbed a hold of the rocky arch, hauled ourselves out of the water and proceeded to climb it. We scaled the rocky face for about 15 feet and with no way to really climb back down, dove back into the chilly water. It didn't sting nearly as much this time and we made it back to the beach without incident. We dried off, changed, and wrapped ourselves in our warmest coats and proceeded to wolf down the food we'd carried. After we had eaten our fill, we made the trek back up to the parking lot stopping only to eat an ice-cream on the way.

While that dip in the ocean probably wasn't the best choice we made, whipping up this dip certainly is. And it involves no cooking!

For my Sour Cream & Dill Dip, you will need the following:

Sour cream	2 cups
Mustard	2 tsp
Dill leaves	2 big handfuls
Salt	to taste

Prep:

1. Chop up the dill leaves.

Method:

1. Grab a bowl.
2. Plop in the sour cream.
3. Spoon in the mustard.
4. Throw in the dill leaves.
5. Pinch in salt to taste.
6. Mix well.
7. Serve with pretty much anything. (Heavenly with Potato Wedges!)
8. Stuff face.
9. Bask in the glory of your successfully executed dip.

Tip: Adjust the proportion and type of mustard based on your preference. I've used a few different types, and I've not been disappointed.

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

Salmon & Spinach Pulao

Hello, boys and girls!

Welcome to cooking with Varun. If Salman Khan were a fish, would his fish name be Salmon Khan? Probably not. But then again.. who knows?

When I was little, I spent a lot of time at the home of my best friend, Parsi Drama Queen. We'd play trump cards, video games (Contra ftw!), watch movies, he'd cook, I'd eat, and then we'd go back to playing. Parsi Drama Queen had (and still has) a penchant for cats. Over the years he has played mother to several kittens, and oddly enough, a lot of them have had a letter of the alphabet on their person. I distinctly remember a cat with a 'T' and another with a 'V' on its forehead (no he did not name the V-cat after me). Another thing Parsi Drama Queen liked when we were young was water. He loved the rain and most times when it was raining heavily he could be found outside in his house running around in his kasti and underwear with a bottle and plastic bags, trying to catch fish. The way our housing society was designed, the section he lived in was separated from the rest of the complex by a little road, and way back in the '90s, when there weren't as many buildings around, there used to be a pond of sorts behind the boundary wall of his section. When it rained heavily, the pond would overflow and water would get in through a little grate at the base of the wall and flood the entire walkway in about ankle-deep water. While it was inconvenient for the adults, for us kids, it was like a splashing pool and we'd spend hours playing in the water, trying to get tadpole like fish through the mouth of our flimsy plastic bottles so we could keep them as pets. One time, Parsi Drama Queen had a cold and was not allowed to play in the rain, so he sat home with T-cat and sulked in protest. It was on this day, that a fairly large catfish managed to get through the grate and ended up stranding itself in the corner of the storm drain. As it lay there, contemplating its life decisions and the series of unfortunate events that resulted in it ending up in the only dry bit of land around, I happened to spot it, fished it out, and marched over to Parsi Drama Queen's house with it as an offering to T-cat in the hopes that it would bring an end to his sulking. His eyes lit up as he saw me coming, and more so when he saw the fish, but his glee quickly faded as T-cat took one look at the fish and flounced away completely disinterested. It was only then that we noticed that the fish was still 'breathing', and so I returned it to its storm drain (in the water this time) and it continued its adventure to drains previously unexplored.

This recipe, does not require you to go fishing in storm drains in your underwear (although more power to you if you want to), but will still leave you with the same sense of accomplishment once its finished.

For my Salmon & Spinach Pulao, you will need the following:

Salmon	300 gm (I usually take the skin off)
Spinach	250 gm
Rice	3 cups
Onions	2 medium
Tomatoes	2 medium
Green chillies	3
Cardamom pods	4
Cloves	4
Bayleaf	1
Coriander powder	2-3 tsp
Red chilli powder	3 tsp
Jeera (cumin) powder	2 tsp
Garam masala	2 tsp
Biryani masala	2-3 tsp (optional)
Ginger garlic paste	1-2 tsp
Lemon	1
Peppercorns	small handful
Salt	to taste
Oil

Prep:

1. Slice the onions.
2. Chop the chillies.
3. Chop the tomatoes.
4. Wash and roughly chop the spinach.
5. Rinse the rice with cold water 3-4 times.

Method:

1. Turn on the gas.
2. Bung a pan/kadhai on.
3. Splash in some oil.
4. Count to 20.
5. Float in the bayleaf.
6. Pop in the cardamom pods.
7. Drop in the cloves.
8. Bounce in the peppercorns.
9. Cook for a minute until the oil gets perfumed with the whole spices.
10. Slide in the onions.
11. Add in the chillies.
12. Cook until the onions are translucent.
13. Put in the ginger garlic paste.
14. Avoid the spatter as the wet paste hits the hot oil.
15. Cook until slightly brown.
16. Add in the coriander powder, cumin powder, red chilli powder, garam masala and the biryani powder.
17. Mix.
18. Cook for a couple of minutes.
19. Add in the tomatoes.
20. Cook until the oil separates from the tomatoes.
21. Scoop in the rice.
22. Add in 6 cups of water.
23. Squeeze in the juice from the lemon.
24. Plonk in the salmon.
25. Pop in the spinach.
26. Add salt to taste.
27. Mix.
28. Drop the heat to low.
29. Pop a lid on.
30. Let it cook for about 20 mins until the water has all gone and the rice is cooked.
31. Turn the gas off.
32. Garnish with coriander leaves.
33. Serve with raita.
34. Stuff face.
35. Bask in the glory of your successfully executed dish.

Tip: I usually stick the fish in the freezer for a bit before cooking. It makes it easier to get the skin off.

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

Potato Wedges

Hello, boys and girls!

Welcome to cooking with Varun. Did you know if you order a souvlaki or gyro in Greece, they put thick cut chips in it along with the meat and salad? You did? Oh. (Mutters, 'Show-off!')

In March of 2016, I was living in Istanbul, Turkey, I took a solo birthday trip to Greece, where I visited Athens and Santorini. I spent a day in Athens and took an early flight to Santorini the following morning. I landed in Santorini and rented what felt like the loudest and screechiest moped/scooterette money could rent and set off (with a complimentary hand-drawn map that had been scanned and printed) to find my hotel. As I set off down the road, I turned many heads, and for a minute I thought it might be my devastating good looks, but soon came to realize it was the wailing from my moped, combined, in all likelihood, with the bright silver helmet and sunglasses that I was sporting at 7 in the morning. After a little searching, I found my hotel, a lovely little whitewashed place with a pool as blue as sapphires. I was soon checked in, and after dropping my trusty backpack off on the alarmingly red duvet, I headed out again to explore the little island. As I scree'd and whee'd (and the occasional khree'd) my way to the spots marked on my map, I took in the sights and sang lustily. I sang every song from '90s pop to Bollywood and even some utter gibberish I made up to the tunes of songs I did not know the lyrics to. Between the singing, I entertained myself by trying to read the Greek signs with a Scottish accent, and stopping to take the occasional picture. I checked out the black sand beach at Perissa, coasted past tiny whitewashed churches, and ran into a fellow solo traveller (on a much better sounding ATV) at the red beach. We struck up a conversation and decided to tour the rest of the day together. We then ended up going to the archaeological museum in Thera, the Akrotiri lighthouse in Faros (where I put the mileage of old screechy to the test by not filling up), and then as 2 guys, strangers to each other, watched the most romantic sunset on the planet at Oia as we sipped beers before heading back to Fira. At Fira, my new travel partner decided to call it a night leaving me alone to wander the town. I found a nice bar where I had a few beers, then meandered down the street to restaurant where I introduced 2 plump pork gyros to my stomach, waited to sober up (this bit is very important!), then rode screechy back to the hotel to crash on my even-more-alarmingly-red-in-artificial-light sheets.

I woke early again the next day to catch my flight back to Athens where I continued my solo adventures and immensely fruitful voyage of self-discovery (snort of suppressed laughter). 

What does this recipe have do with my trip? Mainly potatoes. Not unlike the ones they use to make the chips they put in their gyros. (I know it's a stretch.)

For my  Potato Wedges, you will need the following:

Potatoes	5-6 big
Olive oil	big drizzle
Italian seasoning	3-4 tsp
Chilli flakes	2 tsp
Cornflour	1 tbsp
Salt	to taste
Pepper	to taste
Parsley	for the garnish

Prep:

1. Pre-heat the oven to 200 degrees.
2. Scrub and cut the potatoes into big wedges. (Keep the skin on!)

Method:

1. Grab an oven tray.
2. Plonk the potatoes on.
3. Drizzle on some olive oil.
4. Sprinkle on the cornflour.
5. Sprinkle on the Italian seasoning.
6. Toss on the chilli flakes.
7. Shake on the salt and pepper.
8. Mix well so the wedges are evenly coated.
9. Lay the wedges out so they're not on top of each other.
10. Pop the tray into the oven.
11. Wait 25 minutes.
12. Turn the oven off.
13. Grab your oven mitts.
14. Get the tray out.
15. Serve with a sprinkling of chopped parsley.
16. Stuff face.
17. Bask in the glory of your successfully executed dish.

Tip: Talk to fellow travellers more often. You can never have enough friends.

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

Paneer Butter Masala

Hello, boys and girls!

Welcome to cooking with Varun. Remember the time of cheesy horror movies and TV shows? Shows with poor CGI, syrupy 'blood', heaving bosoms, and overacting? When the creepy music hit and you braced yourself for the ghostly horror to follow? Well, real life is nothing like that. I should know; I (think) I had a supernatural experience once that did not come with a warning, no musical build-up, and certainly no crash of thunder or flash of lightning.

The year was 2005. I had just moved to Bangalore, India for 3 months as part of training for my new job with a few friends. One weekend, 4 of us decided to make a day trip to Gaganachukki to see the waterfalls. We woke early on Saturday, made our way to Majestic, the local bus station, and got on a bus to take us there. The very hot, bumpy ride took about 3 hours but it was well worth it. The falls were beautiful and there weren't too many people about so we could get around quite easily. We waded through pools, and I slipped on a boulder, nearly hit my head and slid into the water, but was rescued by the quick reflexes of my friend who managed to grab a handful of my backpack as I was making my downward journey. We didn't take too many pictures because there were no smartphones back then, and the whopping 1.3 megapixel cameras that were on our cell phones wouldn't have done the view justice. After pottering about for a few hours we headed back to a bus that would take us back to Bangalore. We got on, along with a handful of others, and promptly fell asleep. When we woke, a couple of hours later, night had fallen and it was pitch dark outside. Nearly everyone had got off the bus at the stops on the way, so it was just us 4 and a man on the seat across the aisle, his face shrouded in shadow, the only light source being the little bulb above the driver's seat, as the bus hurtled through the darkness along the hilly road, desperately hugging the curves. Unable to fall asleep again, we talked for a bit before falling silent, and sat staring at the inky blackness outside, cut, only briefly, by the headlights of the odd car or bus. "How long until we reach Majestic?", one of us asked, and as the rest shrugged, having no answer, Shadow Man volunteered the information. "About 40 minutes.", he said leaning forward, the shadows shifting slightly across his tired, swarthy features, and then again as he eased back into his seat with a sigh. We travelled the rest of the way in silence until we arrived at our destination, and as the bus slowed to pull into a parking space, turned to nod goodnight at Shadow Man. The only problem; there was no one there. Puzzled, we walked to the back of the bus and it was empty. Shadow man had, to put it quite simply, vanished. He had disappeared without a trace from a bus with 4 other passengers, which hadn't stopped, slowed down, or afforded any other possibility of him alighting, and certainly not without any of us having noticed. Unsettled by the apparent tired ghost who haunts buses and tells passengers the time to their destination, we hurriedly got off the bus and into empty auto-rickshaws and headed towards the safety of our homes.

We did make a pit-stop along the way for dinner, at a restaurant close to where we lived, where my vegetarian friends ordered us a paneer butter masala and butter naans. This recipe, is a version of the dish that you can make quite easily at home, without much fuss.

For my Paneer Butter Masala, you will need the following:

Paneer	300 gms
Onion	1 medium
Tomato	1 medium
Tomato paste/puree	1 tbsp
Ginger garlic paste	2 tsp
Yoghurt	1 big cup
Red chilli powder	3-4 tsp
Dhaniya (coriander) powder	3-4 tsp
Jeera (cumin) powder	1-2 tsp
Jeera (cumin) seeds	1-2 tsp
Cornflour	1 tsp
Cream	big dollop
Butter	2 big dollops
Kasoori methi	small handful
Salt	to taste

Prep:

1. Unwrap and cut the paneer into biggish cubes. (Soften it by soaking it in hot water for a couple of minutes if needed.)
2. Blitz the onion.
3. Blitz the tomato.
4. Pop the yoghurt in a bowl.
5. Sprinkle in 1 tsp of red chilli powder, dhaniya powder, cumin powder, cornflour, and some salt.
6. Whisk well.
7. Turn on the gas.
8. Bung a non-stick pan on.
9. Splash in some oil.
10. Pop the paneer in.
11. Fry until light brown.
12. Turn the gas off.

Method:

1. Turn on the gas.
2. Bung a pan on.
3. Pop in the butter.
4. Watch it melt into a golden pool.
5. Throw in the jeera.
6. Step back as it snaps, crackles, and pops!
7. Pop in the blitzed onion. (Again, watch out for the spatter!)
8. Mix.
9. Cook until the onions are brown. (Add more butter or a dash of oil if required.)
10. Sprinkle on the rest of the red chilli powder, dhaniya powder, and cumin powder.
11. Mix well.
12. Watch as the masalas start to brown.
13. Hurriedly add in the blitzed tomato and the paste/puree to stop the masalas from burning.
14. Mix well and cook until the butter separates from the tomatoes.
15. Take the pan off the heat.
16. Wait for a minute.
17. Add in the whisked yoghurt.
18. Mix well.
19. Pop back on the gas.
20. Cook for a minute.
21. Plop in the paneer.
22. Add salt to taste.
23. Splash in some water if required, to adjust the consistency.
24. Bring to a boil.
25. Drop to a simmer for a few minutes.
26. Take the pan off the heat.
27. Wait for a minute.
28. Stir in the cream.
29. Pop back on the gas.
30. Sprinkle on the kasoori methi.
31. Cook for a minute.
32. Turn the gas off.
33. Rest for a few minutes.
34. Serve with hot rotis.
35. Stuff face.
36. Bask in the glory of your successfully executed dish.

Tip: Whisking some flour into the yoghurt will keep it from splitting once you add it to your pan.

And remember, overeating is a myth, a full tummy is a happy tummy!

Mere Yaar Ki Shaadi Hai! (Sambhar Rice - Guest Post)

The Skinny Chef has just tied the knot with Lady Riteswipe.

I, the Lazy Author; one of his bestestest friends, have taken the mantle of running this blog that may be confined to the dark corners of the web – given that The Skinny Chef’s attention is rightfully diverted now.

Back in 2012, The Skinny Chef was really skinny. He swam 100 lengths of the swimming pool and did Insanity workouts.

The upside of all of this wasn’t just health for him, it was the challenge. He also had a good metabolism. This combined with his love for cooking allowed me to handover the kitchen to him all the while that I was there.

This was in the city of Birmingham, UK. I would take up a serviced apartment and The Skinny Chef would crash at my place over the weekends cooking this or that, or the number of things that exist on his blog. However, this was over the weekends. Over the weekdays, it was a different story. As my name suggests, I was too lazy to clean the dishes and The Skinny Chef would come over, drop everything and start washing up. It was heartwarming.

Over the next couple of weeks, he was curious as to what it was I was making. I promised I’d save up my stuff for him and it so happened that I ended up cooking my special sambhar rice for this guy over one of those weekends. Yes, those exact weekends when he was supposed to do the cooking.

Thanks, Skinny Boy.

To make the sambhar rice here’s what you need to do:

1. Boil rice (Duh!). (1 cup)
2. Boil toor daal with hing. (1 cup)
3. Boil veggies, in water and use the stock – don’t throw it.

·         You would typically need aubergines (small ones - 4)

·         Drumsticks (1/ 2)

·         Potatoes (optional - 3)

·         Kaddoo (1/4 kg)

·         Tomatoes (2 of ‘em)

·         Onions (2)

·         Beans (optional)

4. Pour oil in a wok and let it heat.
5. Drop mustard seeds into it and wait for them to pop.
6. Put the finely chopped onions and let them braise till golden brown and add sambhar powder (sakthi masala is a good fit).
7. Pour in the boiled veggie stock and the veggies
8. Let the concoction boil for a proper 15 minutes – go watch a YouTube video.
9. I repeat, it’s important that you don’t hang around for it, go watch a video.
10. Sambhar's ready; pour over your rice and enjoy – don’t forget to add ghee.

Disclaimer: The image has been 'borrowed' from one of the existing recipes. I couldn't be bothered to take a picture of my own. Following this recipe may result in a different looking and tasting dish.

Author: Akshay Gawali (http://entropicky.blogspot.co.uk/)

Tandoori Chicken Wings

Hello, boys and girls!

Welcome to cooking with Varun! Once, an Indian, a Brit, an Iraqi, a Libyan, and a Turk walked into a bar. The bartender looked up, offered them a table, and said a waitress would be with them shortly to take their order. There's no joke here, I just had a very diverse group of friends in Istanbul!

Back in 2016, when I was living in Istanbul, Turkey, I used to hang out with a bunch of people of different nationalities. Of these, one of my best friends, was a big Iraqi dude, Khal Haivan. Khal Haivan and I met at the local gym where we were both members and over a couple of weeks, we became friends. Pretty soon we started working out together (I was dubbed Küçük Haivan), and also started hanging out outside of the gym. Most weekends, we'd hit the local bars with a few others, have a few drinks, attempt (and fail) to flirt with the Turkish girls, get a few more drinks, then head home. Khal Haivan had a few other Iraqi acquaintances that hung out in different circles, and from time to time, we'd meet up. One such time was when Khal Haivan's friend, I-Cannot-For-The-Life-Of-Me-Remember-His-Name-Even-Though-I've-Asked-A-100-Times, invited us to a party at some German guy's place he knew who was leaving the country and heading back to Germany, and needed a way to finish off his food and alcohol. I say invited us, he really only invited my friend, but he, in turn, invited me, and so on that Saturday night, I went off to party with some people I'd never met, hosted by a person I didn't know, invited to by a friend whose friend was the only one actually invited, whose name I could not remember. Happy days.

We got there later than we'd hoped (owing to the absolutely horrible traffic), and walked into our host's place to find it packed full of people. Apparently our host worked in a job that had people from all over the world so there was a mix of Turks, Tunisians, Brits, a couple of people from Canada, and a smattering of others. There were people who worked at embassies, in NGOs, in micro-finance (I no longer remember what that means even though I had a very long conversation with the girl who worked in the field), and some I don't even remember. All in all, it was a delightful mix of young people, just laughing, drinking, making friends, and having a great time. A couple of drinks in, Khal Haivan and I started getting peckish so we went out to the balcony where a barbeque had been set up. With dreams of chicken wings, and grilled sausages, we burst into the balcony only to discover that the food was all gone. There hadn't been very much to begin with, and our lateness didn't help matters any so we were left bereft of our much anticipated grub. With the food all gone, we went back inside with rumbling tummies and snacked on grapes and little brownies, and resumed talking to the other people there. I spoke to a YouTuber about how he made money off just his videos, learned that the origin of a girl's name was from Greek mythology where her namesake was forced to turn into a tree to avoid the advances of a God, cringed as I listened to I-Cannot-For-The-Life-Of-Me-Remember-His-Name-Even-Though-I've-Asked-A-100-Times ask a guy who worked at the French embassy how to get a British citizenship, and was recommended I read 'The 100 Year Old Man Who Climbed Out The Window And Disappeared' by another party guest. While I was talking, I discovered Khal Haivan had drank himself into a stupor and was half lying, half sitting, slumped against the bathroom door. I-Cannot-For-The-Life-Of-Me-Remember-His-Name-Even-Though-I've-Asked-A-100-Times, the resourceful guy that he was, called Khal Haivan's roommate, Wow-His-Girlfriend-Is-Kinda-Hot, who drove over, packed him into his car and drove us home officially ending the night.

As I reached home, I thought fondly of the food we did not get, and sadly weaved to bed. We may not have got wings that night, but you can. All you have to do is follow this near effortless recipe!

For my Tandoori Chicken Wings, you will need the following:

Chicken wings	1 kg
Thick yoghurt	2 dollops
Ginger garlic paste	2-3 tsp
Red chilli powder	3-4 tsp
Dhaniya (coriander) powder	2-3 tsp
Jeera (cumin) powder	2-3 tsp
Garam masala	1 tsp
Salt	to taste

Prep:

1. Wash the chicken wings.
2. Toss the chicken wings into a bowl.
3. Gloop on the yoghurt.
4. Spoon in the ginger garlic paste.
5. Sprinkle in the red chilli powder.
6. Sprinkle in the dhaniya powder.
7. Sprinkle in the jeera powder.
8. Sprinkle in the garam masala.
9. Add salt to taste.
10. Mix until the chicken is well coated with the (now red) yoghurt.
11. Wash your hands.
12. Cover the bowl up with saran wrap.
13. Stick it in the fridge for a couple of hours.

Method:

1. Turn on the gas.
2. Bung a pan on. (Preferably one with a lid.)
3. Splash in some oil.
4. Count to 20.
5. Pop the wings in. (Make sure they're not one on top of the other.)
6. Cook for a few minutes until you have a nice sear.
7. Pop the lid on for 8-10 minutes until the wings are cooked through.
8. Take the lid off.
9. Crank up the heat.
10. Cook for a few minutes on each side until you have the desired amount of char on each side.
11. Turn off the gas.
12. Serve garnished with fresh coriander, sliced onions, and a big wedge of lime.
13. Stuff face.
14. Bask in the glory of your successfully executed dish.

Tip: Crash parties. It beats sitting at home on your couch in your boxers watching House of Cards.

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

Red Wine Seafood Spaghetti

Hello, boys and girls!

Welcome to cooking with Varun! What is the Bollywood song of choice for the rebel Turkish army faction that tried to overthrow the government in 2016? Go on, have a proper think. Still no? Fine. It's the 1994 classic, "Dil ka panchi bole, 'coup, coup, coup, coup'.." from the movie Andaz, starring Anil Kapoor and Karis(h)ma Kapoor! What? That joke was pure gold!

I jest now, but I wasn't nearly as cavalier when it was happening around me. I was in Istanbul, Turkey. It was a Friday night and my roommate, Ms. Invites-Her-Colleagues-Over-And-Makes-Me-Cook, and I were celebrating the end of the work week by lounging in my living room drinking cherry vodka and listening to '90s pop (which obviously included the Backstreet Boys because I wanted it that way) when the news broke. All social media was down (which in retrospect is something that should have made us suspicious) so we were oblivious to the going-ons until we got a text message saying the military was trying to overthrow the government and that we should stay indoors; roads and bridges had been blocked by army tanks and soldiers, and we were on no account to venture outside. Unsettled, but buzzing on account of the vodka, we watched a movie to distract ourselves, and then went to bed hoping for the best (which was not getting killed). Later that night, at about 3:00 am, I was awoken by a loud bang, like an explosion. The windows started to shake, the whole building started to vibrate, causing the cupboards to rattle, sending a shiver through my body, and Ms. Invites-Her-Colleagues-Over-And-Makes-Me-Cook screamed and came running into my room. I leapt out of bed and we stood in the landing between our bedrooms for a few moments, and then I tentatively tiptoed to the window, my heart pounding, a visible tremble in my hand, and peeked outside. It was still dark, nothing was on fire, people weren't screaming, and it all seemed.. almost normal. As I breathed a sigh of relief and retracted my hand, we heard a roar from overhead, followed by a zoomy sort of whoosh, and realized that both, the roar and the bang, had been caused by a low flying aircraft (possibly) causing a sonic boom. We waited for a few minutes, but save for more aircraft, it seemed quite quiet, and when the sounds started to fade, went back to bed.

We read the following morning, that the coup had been quelled fairly quickly, with the most damage being done in Ankara. All personnel who had participated in the coup had been rounded up, and people were now walking up and down the Bosphorus bridge taking pictures of and with the tanks, because who cares about the damage when you have a tank selfie, right?

Unfortunately, for me, the coup was the straw that broke the camel's back, and as lovely as Turkey and its people are, I returned to India soon after. This dish, is one of the last few dishes I cooked before my departure.

For my Red Wine Seafood Spaghetti, you will need the following:

Spaghetti	300 gms
Red wine	3 cups
Assorted seafood	150 gms
Garlic	3-4 cloves
Parsley	tiny handful
Salt	to taste
Butter	knob
Olive oil

Prep:

1. Mince the garlic.
2. Chop the parsley.

Method:

Pasta:

1. Turn on the gas.
2. Bung a saucepan/pot on.
3. Fill it about 2/3 with water.
4. Pour in the red wine.
5. Splash in some olive oil.
6. Sprinkle in some salt.
7. Bring to a boil.
8. Drop the heat and bring to a simmer.
9. Pop in your spaghetti.
10. Cook until the spaghetti is al dente (cooked but has a slight bite).
11. Turn the gas off.
12. Drain the spaghetti. (Retain some of the starchy pasta water.)

Seafood:

1. Turn on the gas.
2. Bung a pan on.
3. Drop in the butter.
4. Count to 20.
5. Toss in the garlic.
6. Pop in the seafood.
7. Cook for a few minutes until it goes pink. (If you overcook it, it will become very rubbery!)
8. Turn the gas off.

Putting it together:

1. Pick up your spaghetti strainer.
2. Walk it over to your seafood pan.
3. Empty the pasta over the seafood.
4. Splash in some of the retained pasta water.
5. Mix.
6. Garnish with the chopped parsley.
7. Serve.
8. Stuff face.
9. Bask in the glory of your successfully executed dish.

 

Tip: As an expat, always inform your local consulate of your presence and contact details to keep abreast of volatile situations!

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