Pork Vindaloo

Hello, boys and girls!

Welcome to cooking with Varun! I love Goan food. It's the main reason I visit Goa. It's not nearly as much about the beaches and inexpensive alcohol for me as it is about the food. The vindaloos and the recheados and the xacuttis and the balchaos get me all kinds of worked up! And the best food is in the little hidey holes. The small nondescript restaurants away from the beach and the chaos serve up some amazing food that is infinitely better tasting and much better value for money than any beach shack.

Another reason I visit Goa is for weddings. In December of 2018, my friends and I made a trip to South Goa for the wedding of a fellow food lover, The Real Foodie. We arrived a couple of days in advance and were all staying at the same hotel so we used the non-wedding time to get out and eat as much food as we could and lie on the beach for as long as possible before resembling xacuttis ourselves!

The afternoon before the wedding, we decided to go for a dip in the sea. Unfortunately, I had forgotten my shorts back at the hotel. Fortunately, my friend, Kombucha-maker, had a spare pair she lent me. I know what you're thinking, surely a bloke in girly shorts is the last thing fellow beach-goers want to see, but these were no ordinary shorts. These were magic shorts that not only seem to fit everyone who needs them, but also makes their booty look great! From Kombucha-maker herself, to her 6'2" husband, Tall Crap, and even skinny chefs with perfect posteriors, these off-white, linen, mid-thigh shorts with a tie belt serve without prejudice. And so, I donned the shorts of destiny and followed my friends into the water. Now Goa is pretty warm all year round, but it was December so the water was on the colder side, and we had had a couple of beverages so it was inevitable that nature would call. After announcing loudly to the group (as one does) that I needed to pee, the others realized they had to go as well. Too lazy to swim back to shore, walk across the sand, into a restaurant, and then back again, Tall Crap and I decided to go in the sea (like normal people) and suggested Kombucha-maker and Ball-and-chain to do the same. After many 'ews' and 'yucks' and 'no ways', they were on board. A few seconds later, what might seem like just another group of friends in a large circle laughing about something to the casual swimmer who was surprised to find a warm patch of water, we found ourselves peeing in the Arabian sea while maintaining a comfortable eye-contact.

Soon after the deed was done, we swam back to the shore. As we leisurely dried off, we checked the time and were shocked to see how late it was. We rushed back to the hotel for a quick shower before heading to The Real Foodie's wedding where we ate and drank and made merry deep into the night before an early flight out the following morning. While we were off dancing at the wedding, the shorts of destiny were sitting on a little plastic stool in the bathroom of my hotel room where they had been unceremoniously dumped in favour of not being murdered by the bride for being late. And that is where we found them in our last minute scan of the room as we were checking out. With no time to wash them, I put my faith in Poseidon's ability to rinse shorts in his kingdom, and stuffed them in a plastic bag before returning them to their rightful owner as we departed.

This recipe is for a tangy and pickly and scrummy Goan style Pork Vindaloo that unlike its overseas counterparts isn't all fire and acidity and death, and is my favourite dish to order in any Goan establishment. While this dish has nothing to do with the shorts of destiny, it will give you the same warmth and comfort and tingles as peeing in the cold(ish) sea on a warm day with people you love.

For my Pork Vindaloo, you will need the following:

Pork	500 gms
Onions	1 large or 2 medium
Dried Kashmiri chillies	8
Garlic cloves	4
Ginger	1/2" piece
Jeera (cumin seeds)	1 tsp
Cinnamon	1" piece broken into 2
Peppercorns	8-10
Cloves	4
White vinegar	to taste
Salt	to taste
Oil

Prep:

1. Soak the Kashmiri chillies in boiling water for 15 mins.
2. Cut the pork into cubes and dry it with a paper towel.
3. Grab a grinder.
4. Drain the water from the chillies and pop them in the grinder.
5. Toss in the ginger, garlic, jeera, one piece of cinnamon, 4-5 peppercorns, 2 cloves, a splash of vinegar, some water and blitz the lot until smooth. This is your vindaloo paste.
6. Plonk the cubed pork in a big bowl.
7. Spoon on the vindaloo paste. (Don't rinse the grinder yet!)
8. Sprinkle on salt to taste.
9. Mix well so all the pork is well coated.
10. Wash your hands.
11. Touch face.
12. If it burns, wash your hands again.
13. Cover the bowl and pop in the fridge overnight.
14. Quarter the onions.
15. Plop them in the un-rinsed grinder. (Why waste paste?)
16. Blitz.
17. Save for the next day.

Method:

1. Turn on the gas.
2. Bung a pan on.
3. Splash in some oil.
4. Bounce in the remaining peppercorns, cloves, and cinnamon.
5. Spoon in your pasty onions.
6. Cook until they start to brown.
7. Chuck in the marinated pork.
8. Mix and cook for a few minutes.
9. Pour in a cup or two of water, salt to taste, and stir.
10. Bring to a boil.
11. Drop to a simmer.
12. Slap a lid on and cook until the pork is done.
13. Take the lid off.
14. Adjust the salt and vinegar as desired.
15. Turn the gas off.
16. Serve with pao.
17. Stuff face.
18. Bask in the glory of your successfully executed dish.

Tip: The best part of a pork vindaloo for me is the fat on the pork pieces so I would suggest using fatty pieces if you can. My personal preference is pork belly.

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

Mango Rabdi

Hello, boys and girls!

Welcome to cooking with Varun! Few things are as trying as an Indian summer. Depending on where in the country you are, the temperature could easily be in the mid 40s (C). It's oppressively hot, humid and stepping outdoors is like stepping into a very large pre-heated oven. Throw in a few million people and it's not exactly the most comfortable place to be.

When I started working, I played for the company football team and our biggest annual tournament was played when summer was at its peak. We don't have super grassy grounds in India, and the ones we played on were dusty and pebbly and got so hot we had to pour water over our shoes to stop the soles of our feet from burning! Growing up though, we didn't care. Summer vacations were what we waited for from the turn of every year. We'd wake, scarf down breakfast, then all meet to play cricket in the parking lot or garden of our housing society until lunchtime, run home to scarf down lunch and pick up where we left off until it was either too dark or we had lost enough balls. We'd get sweaty, brown, and dirty and it was the best time. We had a lot of trees in our housing society we could flop under and if we got thirsty, we'd simply ring the doorbells of other residents to ask for water. A few times a week, we'd go for a swim followed by ice-cream and by then we'd be too exhausted for much else!

The best part though, was that summer in India is mango season. We don't have the huge tropical mangoes there that you get in other parts of the world. What we have is pure magic in mango form. Smaller, more yellow, and sweeter than their international counterparts, there are huge variety of mangoes that fill every inch of the place with their gorgeous aroma. Each unique in shape and flavour, the one I'm most partial to are the Alphonso mangoes. They are called Hapus in Maharashtra and if I could pick one fruit to eat for the rest of my life, that would be it. Thankfully, they export them now so you get them for your friendly neighbourhood Indian grocery store!

This recipe works with any variety of the fruit, but if you can get Alphonso, you're golden.

For my Mango Rabdi, you will need the following: 

Milk	1 litre
Mangoes	2-3 medium (or 2-3 cups of pulp)
Sugar	10-12 tsp
Cardamoms	2-3
Cornflour	2 tsp
Almonds	handful

Prep:

1. Pulp the mangoes. 
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. Turn away for a split second.
8. Turn back to see the milk boiling over!
9. Quickly drop the heat to low.
10. Try to use a paper towel to wipe up some of the spilt milk.
11. Accidentally touch the pan.
12. Burn fingers.
13. Curse.
14. Crank the heat up to medium to bring the milk to a simmer.
15. Reduce to about 1/3rd. (This will take an hour or so.)
16. Pop in the mango pulp.
17. Mix.
18. Drop the heat to low.
19. Let it boil and reduce for about 15 minutes (stir at intervals when you get bored).
20. Spoon in the sugar.
21. Mix well.
22. Add in the cornflour slurry to thicken.
23. Simmer for a little longer until it reaches the desired consistency.
24. Throw in most of the almonds.
25. Mix.
26. Let cool.
27. Garnish with the remaining almonds and some diced fresh mango.
28. Serve.
29. Stuff face.
30. Bask in the glory of your successfully  executed dish.

Tip: If you're using tinned mango pulp, you might want to adjust the amount of sugar you add. I'd recommend adding a tbsp at a time and tasting it each time until it's as sweet as you want it.

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

Dahi Waale Aloo (Yoghurt Curry Potatoes)

Hello, boys and girls!

Welcome to cooking with Varun. Back in 2014, when I was in Solihull, UK, I was a skinny beast (about the same width as The Rock's leg). I was powering through Insanity workouts, hitting the gym, swimming myself dizzy on weekends, playing football twice a week, and the odd game of badminton every few days. I even made time to go out to the pubs on the weekends with my friends to strike out with the fairer sex! I had pushed myself to the limit and then some, and I felt, in every sense of the word, invincible.

But like they say, all good things must come to an end. In October 2014, while playing my first football game upon my return to India, in my cockiness and natural affinity for showmanship, I overestimated the quality of the pitch I was playing on and my attempt to dribble past the opposition left my right foot planted on the turf as my body turned and pain ripped through my right knee as I heard a pop and collapsed in a heap. Scans revealed what I had feared most. I had torn my ACL. The only way to repair it, was surgery.

After finally going under the knife, I was resigned to my bed, only able to move around with the aid of a walker (whom I had obviously named 'Paul'). We went everywhere together. Long slow walks to the bathroom, painful hobbles to the kitchen, even limping waddles to the balcony to watch the sunset. When Paul and I weren't spending quality time together, I was resigned to my bed, twisting painfully as I did my physiotherapy, watching TV, reading, or (my personal favourite) stuffing myself with comfort food.

One such comfort food was Poori Aloo Aloo. No, it's not a dish so nice they named it twice. I just happen to like 2 different types of potato dishes and I can never decide which ones I want so I do both! This recipe is for one of those dishes, which if I'm being honest, holds an edge over its competition. But don't tell the other dish that. It tends to get jealous.

For my Dahi Waale Aloo, you will need the following:

Potatoes	3-4 large
Dahi (yoghurt)	2-3 cups
Green chillies	2-3
Ginger	1" piece
Curry leaves (kadi patta)	tiny handful
Jeera (cumin)	1 tsp
Haldi (turmeric) powder	1/2 tsp
Red chilli powder	1 tsp
Dhaniya (coriander) powder	1 1/2 tsp
Jeera (cumin) powder	1 tsp
Coriander leaves	handful
Salt	to taste
Oil

Prep:

1. Boil the potatoes. (You want them firm. Don't over-boil them!)
2. Roughly smash the potatoes. (You want chunky bits. Mashed potatoes won't do!)
3. Beat the dahi.
4. Chop the chillies.
5. Grate the ginger.
6. Chop the coriander leaves.

Method:

1. Turn on the gas.
2. Bung a pan on.
3. Splash in some oil.
4. Toss in the jeera.
5. Roll in the chillies.
6. Float in the curry leaves.
7. Spoon in the ginger.
8. Cook for a minute.
9. Plop in the potatoes.
10. Mix.
11. Make a little well in the middle of your potato pile.
12. Sprinkle in the haldi.
13. Chuck in the red chilli powder.
14. Pop in the dhaniya powder.
15. Add in the jeera powder.
16. Cook for a minute.
17. Mix.
18. Take the pan off the heat.
19. Pour in the beaten dahi.
20. Mix.
21. Return the pan to the burner.
22. Drop the heat to just under medium. Cranking the heat up straight away will cause the dahi to split.
23. Add salt to taste.
24. Cook until the mixture goes from white to yellow and the oil comes floating to the top.
25. Pop the lid on and cook for a few minutes.
26. Take the lid off.
27. Throw in the coriander leaves.
28. Mix.
29. Turn the gas off.
30. Serve with pooris.
31. Stuff face.
32. Bask in the glory of your successfully executed dish.

Tip: These potatoes go great with kachoris too!

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

Fish Recheado

Hello, boys and girls!

Welcome to cooking with Varun! One of my favourite places to visit (like countless other people) is Goa. I can never seem to get enough of the sandy beaches, beers by the sea, and obviously, the gorgeous local cuisine. Most trips, I just plonk myself on a deck chair by the edge of the water and read a book with a bottle of chilled beer and some snacks by my side as the sun steadily makes my already brown skin even browner. A tan that takes countless lemon scrubs and 6 months to get rid off!

The funny thing about a trip to Goa when you're younger is that the trip needs to be relatively spontaneous and needs someone to take the lead. If you take longer than 2 days to plan and book your trip, people start to drop out one by one until there's just you left. And with no soul searching or self discovery to do, the odds of making the trip are about as much as people agreeing on what the best cuisine in the world is. In fact, it is widely acknowledged that if you walk up to a random college student or young professional in India, they will have at least 2 stories about their almost-but-not-quite trip, how their friends let them down, and how they would have gone if even one other person had said yes (lies!). My conversion rate on these isn't much better with my only successful trip as a student being wayyy back in 2009.

8 of us, 4 days of laying about on the beach, burying ourselves in the sand, downing beers, doing drunken karaoke at 3 am, and devouring enough local food for each meal to feed a small army without a care in the world. From vindaloos to xacutis to cafreals to recheados, we ate it all and then some. This recipe is my take on Goa's popular fish recheado and if you're in an almost-but-not-quite situation, I assure you that dish this will make you feel like you're there!

For my Fish Recheado, you will need the following:

Fish	3-4 fillets of a white fish
Kashmiri chillies (dried)	8
Garlic	4 cloves
Ginger	1" piece
Cloves	3-4
Peppercorns	8-10
Jeera (cumin seeds)	1/2 tsp
Rai (mustard seeds)	1/2 tsp
Sugar	pinch
Methre (fenugreek seeds)	pinch
Imli paste	1-2 tbsp
Vinegar	big splash
Salt	to taste
Oil

Prep:

1. Pop the chillies in a bowl.
2. Pour on hot water until they are submerged.
3. Cover with a lid or a plate.
4. Let it sit for a few minutes.

Method:

Recheado Masala:

1. Grab a grinder.
2. Toss in the garlic.
3. Throw in the ginger.
4. Pop in the cloves.
5. Bounce in the peppercorns.
6. Shake in the jeera.
7. Chuck in the rai.
8. Pinch in the sugar.
9. Plonk in the methre.
10. Spoon in the imli paste.
11. Add in the soaked chillies.
12. Splash in the vinegar.
13. Pour in a tiny amount of water.
14. Stick the lid on the grinder.
15. Blitz until smooth.
16. Take the masala out into a bowl.
17. Season the fish.
18. Generously rub on the masala to coat the fish.
19. Leave for 30 minutes.

Cook:

1. Turn on the gas.
2. Bung a pan on.
3. Splash in some oil.
4. Crank the heat up to high.
5. Count to 20.
6. Drop the heat to a medium.
7. Lay in a marinated fillet.
8. Jump back as the pan hisses and sputters.
9. Carefully add in the remaining fillets. (Don't crowd the pan!)
10. Cook for a few minutes on each side until the fish is done. (The fish will start to flake but still be moist inside.)
11. Turn the gas off.
12. Take the fish out into a plate.
13. Serve with a side of sliced onions and a wedge of lemon.
14. Stuff face.
15. Bask in the glory of your successfully executed dish.

Tip: You can use the same masala with prawns or squid or any other seafood.

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

Chicken Noodle Soup

Hello, boys and girls,

Welcome to cooking with Varun! In January 2020, Ball-and-chain and I made a trip to Prague, Czech Republic. We flew out on a Friday afternoon and arrived in Prague in the early evening. After clearing immigration, we exited the airport and took a cab to our hotel. Once we had arrived, we quickly checked in, dropped off our bags, and stepped out to explore the city. Armed with a map that screamed 'TOURIST!', we made our way to the old town via. Wenceslas Square where we made our first, and quite possibly, our most important stop. At Sephora. 15 minutes later, with a new lipstick in my coat pocket and a ton of brownie points in the other, we were on our way to the old town square once again stopping briefly to hug people with 'Free Hugs' signs. To the long-haired hippie who hugged Ball-and-chain longer than necessary, I don't know who you are and I don't know what you want, but I will find you and introduce my foot to your rear end.

The next couple of days were great. The sun came out and we spent the days sight-seeing, tucking into some great food, and drinking some great beers. Sadly, all those chilled beers gave me a throat-ache and on the day before we were set to depart, I came down with a cold. As I sniffled from location to location, we came across a restaurant advertising a lunch deal of soup and a main dish in the window. Running low on local currency, and my throat waging war, we decided to stop there for lunch. Big mistake. We took a seat and ordered our food as a group of girls from a nearby table argued with the sole waiter over the french fries they had been billed for. Thinking nothing of it, we sat back and waited until our soups arrived. We tasted a spoonful and found they were stone cold. We called the waiter over to inform him of this and he very brazenly told us that they had just been made and that I was wrong. I insisted they were cold and he picked up my plate, touched the bottom and incredibly rudely asked, "This is cold?", all the time shaking his head and muttering in Czech. Not wanting to explain microwaving 101 to him, I repeated that it was and he stormed off to re-heat them. Having watched enough kitchen disaster shows, I was pretty confident the ray of sunshine that was our waiter would season our lunch with his saliva and we decided to leave. We went to the manager(?) lady and said we were leaving when the ray of sunshine came storming back out and started yelling at us. I asked, very politely, that he refrain from yelling and reminded him that the key to being in the hospitality industry was hospitality, when he screamed, "You Indians are always doing this bullshit!" and told us to fuck off. Returning his warm sentiment, we walked out of the restaurant, pausing only long enough to flip him the bird as we left.

The remainder of our trip was (predictably) uneventful in comparison and when we finally got back home the next day, I cooked up a batch of my own soup, that along with being piping hot, was also much better than the one served to us by Alexei of Restaurace U Prochazku in Prague. Normally, I'd tell you not to visit the place unless you are a fan of rudeness and racial abuse, but I'm fairly confident that given Alexei's winning personality coupled with the stand out quality of their food, it won't remain open for very long.

For my Chicken Noodle Soup, you will need the following:

Chicken breasts	2 (boneless and skinless)
Noodles	100 gm
Celery	2 stalks
Carrots	2
Garlic	4-5 cloves
Mushrooms	4-5 big ones
Chicken stock	1.5 litres (stock cubes + water)
Peppercorns	tiny handful
Butter	knob
Olive Oil	splash
Salt	to taste
Pepper	to taste

Prep:

1. Peel and chop the carrots.
2. Chop up the celery.
3. Bash and mince the garlic.
4. Slice the mushrooms.
5. Make the chicken stock by dropping 2-3 stock cubes in hot water.
6. Pop the stock on the gas and drop in the chicken breasts.
7. Bring to a boil.
8. Drop to a simmer and cook for about 20 minutes.
9. Fish out the chicken breasts and let cool. (Keep the stock aside.)
10. Shred the chicken with a fork (or a hand mixer which is surprisingly effective!)

Method:

1. Turn on the gas.
2. Bung a saucepan on.
3. Plonk in a knob of butter.
4. Pour in a glug of olive oil.
5. Toss in some peppercorns for good measure.
6. Plop in the carrots.
7. Drop in the celery.
8. Toss in the garlic.
9. Cook until the carrots and celery have softened.
10. Pour in the stock.
11. Throw in the mushrooms.
12. Add in the shredded chicken.
13. Drop in the noodles.
14. Add salt and pepper to taste. (The stock will already have salt from the cubes so taste before you sprinkle!)
15. Bring to a boil.
16. Drop to a simmer.
17. Pop a lid on and cook until the noodles are done.
18. Turn the gas off.
19. Ladle the hot soup into a bowl, top with crushed pepper and parsley, and serve with crusty bread (or a garlic baguette).
20. Stuff face.
21. Bask in the glory of your successfully executed dish.

Tip: Don't be racist. It's not nice.

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