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.
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:
- Unwrap and cut the paneer into biggish cubes. (Soften it by soaking it in hot water for a couple of minutes if needed.)
- Blitz the onion.
- Blitz the tomato.
- Pop the yoghurt in a bowl.
- Sprinkle in 1 tsp of red chilli powder, dhaniya powder, cumin powder, cornflour, and some salt.
- Whisk well.
- Turn on the gas.
- Bung a non-stick pan on.
- Splash in some oil.
- Pop the paneer in.
- Fry until light brown.
- Turn the gas off.
Method:
- Turn on the gas.
- Bung a pan on.
- Pop in the butter.
- Watch it melt into a golden pool.
- Throw in the jeera.
- Step back as it snaps, crackles, and pops!
- Pop in the blitzed onion. (Again, watch out for the spatter!)
- Mix.
- Cook until the onions are brown. (Add more butter or a dash of oil if required.)
- Sprinkle on the rest of the red chilli powder, dhaniya powder, and cumin powder.
- Mix well.
- Watch as the masalas start to brown.
- Hurriedly add in the blitzed tomato and the paste/puree to stop the masalas from burning.
- Mix well and cook until the butter separates from the tomatoes.
- Take the pan off the heat.
- Wait for a minute.
- Add in the whisked yoghurt.
- Mix well.
- Pop back on the gas.
- Cook for a minute.
- Plop in the paneer.
- Add salt to taste.
- Splash in some water if required, to adjust the consistency.
- Bring to a boil.
- Drop to a simmer for a few minutes.
- Take the pan off the heat.
- Wait for a minute.
- Stir in the cream.
- Pop back on the gas.
- Sprinkle on the kasoori methi.
- Cook for a minute.
- Turn the gas off.
- Rest for a few minutes.
- Serve with hot rotis.
- Stuff face.
- 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!