Cheesy Stuffed Mushrooms

Hello, boys and girls!

Welcome to cooking with Varun! Back in 2011, when I was living in Antrim, Northern Ireland, I was discovering the joys of being a housekeeper. Living with Big-Talking-UPite, and Beer-Chugging-Goan, it wasn't hard to fit myself into the role, since they were both too lazy to clean up after themselves. At all. Ever. Not once. Nada. But to be a good housekeeper, I first had to get the necessary equipment. So we dialled the local taxi service, commissioned a cab, and 15 minutes later, rolled into the parking lot of the local ASDA looking like a poor man's <insert generic, moderately successful 3 member boy band name here>, albeit a little more homeless, since Big-Talking-UPite refused to shower on weekends (or most other days), and Beer-Chugging-Goan was still half asleep. We walked into the store, headed to the cleaning products aisle, carefully looked at each of the vacuum cleaners on display, and after painstakingly taking into account the weight, the suction, the number of attachments, the width of the head vs. the width of our stairs, the kind of surfaces they would work best on, we bought the cheapest one. It was a little white thing, that cost us 20 quid, and having paired it with a mop, and floor cleaners, we rolled back home.

Over the next few weeks, our vacuum cleaner and I spent some wonderful hours together. Every Sunday, I would wake up before my lazy man children, put my headphones on, crank the volume up on my iPod, and shimmy and shake and make the place spotless. Starting downstairs, in the kitchen, moving to the living room, and then finally up the stairs to the bedrooms. It was the kind of stuff you'd put in a video montage, complete with slow-mo running, and harps playing in the background. Things were going swell, so you can imagine my surprise when one morning, my baby just wouldn't suck the crumbs off the kitchen floor. I swapped the heads, shook it around, but to no avail. As I sat despondent, with my head in my hands, Big-Talking-UPite plodded down the stairs and after a deep swig of his prune juice, enquired about what was making me so very glum. As I described to him the plight of my beloved, and how it wouldn't suck any more, he picked it up, popped it open and informed me that there was nothing wrong, the bag was just full. Relief washed over me in waves (like the ocean on a warm summer's day), and he scooped out the full bag, and replaced it with a fresh one. I lovingly picked my baby up and the video montage resumed, this time with Big-Talking-UPite's face as a shining sun in the top corner, not unlike the baby on the very disturbing Teletubbies show.

Speaking of things that don't suck, this recipe doesn't either, and is really very simple and makes for an excellent appetizer.

For my Cheesy Stuffed Mushrooms, you will need the following:

Mushrooms	12 big
Parmesan	200 gms.
Garlic	5-8 cloves
Spring onions	2
Salt	to taste
Pepper	to taste
Red pepper powder	to taste
Oil

Prep:

1. Separate the stalks from the mushrooms and hollow out the heads.
2. Mince the mushroom stalks.
3. Mince the garlic.
4. Grate the parmesan.
5. Chop up the spring onion greens.
6. Grab a bowl.
7. Plonk in the chopped stalks.
8. Pop in the garlic.
9. Dump in the parmesan. (I usually throw in a couple more melty types depending on what's in the fridge. Usually cheddar or cream cheese.)
10. Sprinkle in some red pepper powder.
11. Add salt and pepper.
12. Mix.

Method:

1. Grab a mushroom in your left hand. (Or right hand if you're left handed.)
2. Grab a spoon in the other.
3. Spoon up the stalk-cheese mixture.
4. Fill in the mushroom heads.
5. Repeat until they are all full.
6. Turn on the gas.
7. Bung a pan on.
8. Splash in some oil.
9. Count to 10.
10. Put the mushrooms in (stuffing side up).
11. Pop a lid on.
12. Cook for ~10 minutes until done. (You see the cheese begin to bubble.)
13. Take the lid off.
14. Turn off the gas.
15. Garnish with spring onion greens.
16. Serve.
17. Stuff face.
18. Bask in the glory of your successfully executed dish.

Tip: You could try and cover the stuffing with some mozzarella. That'll keep the stuffing from oozing out and will make it cheesier. You can also bake the mushrooms in a fan assisted oven at 180 degrees for ~20 mins.

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

One Pot Chinese Chicken & Noodles

Hello, boys and girls!

Welcome to cooking with Varun! When I first moved to Solihull, UK, in 2012, I didn't know anybody there, so it was quite a (pleasant) surprise to find that on my first day in the office, there were 2 others, Lazy Author, &  Lecherous Git, who were not only also just as new there as I was, but also from the same part of India that I am. Having found common ground, we filled in our forms, got our IDs, and made plans to pop out into the town center for lunch and get acquainted. Lazy Author brought a teammate along, Badass-Army-Girl, who Lecherous Git automatically took a fancy to. Upon learning she was married, his face dropped faster than a man with food poisoning drops his trousers, and his expression changed to not unlike a man who after sprinting through pouring rain, arrives at the bus stop only to find that he has missed the last bus home. He was a tough nut though, because not 2 minutes later, I caught him eyeing up other girls on the street with a gleeful expression on his face. As it turned out, Lecherous Git was a little too lecherous to be civil company and thankfully after a couple of days, he made other lecherous friends and Lazy Author, Badass-Army-Girl, and I no longer had to contend with his ever wandering, almost hopeful gaze. 

As time went by, Lazy Author and I became fast friends. He was living in a serviced apartment in Birmingham above a really good Chinese restaurant, and most weekends would find us sitting, along with another friend, Skyped-his-infant-daugher-so-much-I'm-surprised-she-recognizes-him-without-a-frame-around-his-face, around his apartment drinking ciders, cooking, or just horsing around. Sometimes we'd sit and discuss the story Lazy Author was working on in the hope that it might one day be published (it's been years since then and he's written about 6 chapters). We'd bounce ideas around, I'd make stupid jokes, Lazy Author would threaten to sit on me if I didn't shut up (I didn't; it almost always ended up in a mock wrestling match), Skyped-his-infant-daugher-so-much-I'm-surprised-she-recognizes-him-without-a-frame-around-his-face would capture videos wondering if we could send the videos in to Funniest Home Videos and win 300 quid, we'd brainstorm some more, and then finally go get food at the Chinese  restaurant or a big bowl of soupy ramen at the Japanese restaurant in the Bullring mall  across the street. Ah, good times!

This recipe combines the food from both restaurants (or attempts to anyway), and is really good for a wintry day.

For my One Pot Chinese Chicken & Noodles, you will need the following:

Chicken breasts	3-4
Green peppers (capsicum)	1
Onion	1
Mushrooms	4-5 big ones
Green chillies	4-5
Garlic	4 cloves
Ginger	1" piece
Chicken stock cubes	4
Cornflour	1 cup
Egg	1
Noodles	300 gm.
Spring (green) onions	3
Salt	to taste
Pepper	to taste
Sugar	to taste
Soy sauce
Vinegar
Oil

Prep:

1. Wash and cut the chicken into cubes.
2. Grab a bowl.
3. Drop in the chicken.
4. Add in enough cornflour to coat the chicken.
5. Beat the egg and add to the bowl.
6. Add salt and pepper to taste.
7. Mix well until the chicken is coated with the cornflour and egg.
8. Vertically slice the chillies.
9. Mince the garlic.
10. Mince the ginger.
11. Cut the green pepper into large cubes.
12. Slice the onion into big pieces.
13. Slice the mushrooms.
14. Chop up the spring onion greens.
15. Dissolve the stock cubes in 4 cups of water.

Method:

1. Turn on the gas and crank it up to high.
2. Bung a pan on.
3. Splash in some oil.
4. Count to 20.
5. Drop in the chicken.
6. Drop the heat to a medium.
7. Shallow fry the chicken until golden. (It's okay if it isn't cooked the way through. It will cook in the pot.)
8. Turn the gas off.
9. Put the pan away.
10. Turn on the gas.
11. Bung a pot (or a deep pan or kadhai) on.
12. Splash in some oil.
13. Count to 20.
14. Slide in the chillies.
15. Toss in the ginger and garlic.
16. Cook until the garlic starts to brown slightly.
17. Pour in the stock.
18. Splash in the soy sauce. (As dark as you want it.)
19. Splash in some vinegar.
20. Mix.
21. Pour in a cup of water.
22. Plonk in the mushrooms, peppers, and onions.
23. Cook for a couple of minutes.
24. Plop in the chicken.
25. Sprinkle on the sugar.
26. Let it simmer for a couple of minutes.
27. Add 3 more cups of water.
28. Pop in the noodles. (Add more water if you need to.)
29. Pop a lid on.
30. Cook until the noodles are done. (There should be a lot of soup in the pot.)
31. Adjust the flavours with soy sauce and vinegar if required.
32. Grab a little cup.
33. Add in a tbsp of cornflour.
34. Splash in some cold water and mix.
35. Stir in the mixture to thicken the soup.
36. Simmer for a few minutes.
37. Turn the gas off.
38. Serve garnished with the spring onion greens.
39. Stuff face.
40. Bask in the glory of your successfully executed dish.

Tip: Taste as you cook this. The water to boil the noodles in dilutes the flavour so you need to keep adjusting it as desired.

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

Masala Khichdi

Hello, boys and girls!

Welcome to cooking with Varun! On a weekend back in 2011, when I was living in Antrim, Northern Ireland, with Big-Talking-UPite, and Refugee#1, Refugee#1 and I decided we did not want to sit home and do nothing, and tried to coax Big-Talking-UPite out of bed and help us settle on a plan for the day. Refugee#1 and I proposed we rent a car and drive up to Castlerock beach (where you can actually drive on a portion of the beach), and then drive down along the beautiful Northern Irish coast on the way back via Portrush and Ballycastle, which Big-Talking-UPite consented to do, but only if we did it in style.

So, leaving Big-Talking-UPite to get showered and dressed, Refugee#1 and I made our way to the airport to the car rental services, and rented ourselves a shiny black Mercedes for the day. After a quick argument about who got to drive, we decided to do it one way each, with me driving the to and Refugee#1 driving the from (Big-Talking-UPite did not drive then which made things easier). We pulled up outside our house where we picked up our sleep loving roommate and then set off to Castlerock, amidst a lot of 'recalculating' by the GPS lady with the annoying voice. With Refugee#1 riding shotgun, we put on some tunes and soon we were cruising towards our destination when we realized Big-Talking-UPite hadn't complained about anything for several minutes. We turned around and discovered that the sloth was curled up in a ball and was fast asleep on the back seat. The drive was gorgeous, but uneventful, and soon we had arrived at our destination. We drove onto the beach and parked a few hundred meters in on some suspiciously soft sand. Thinking nothing of it, we roused our sleeping roommate and exited the car. After walking up and down the length of the beach and indulging in hijinks, that included backflips and wrestling, we took a few pictures and headed back to the car. I got behind the wheel, started her up, only to discover to my dismay, that we were stuck, and accelerating was only making things worse as the tyres only sank deeper into the sand. Our efforts at pushing the car out yielded no results either and we sat down next to the car quite exhausted as we tried to come up with a way to get the car out and running again. That was when we were approached by a kindly couple who were sitting not far from us and had been watching our efforts with (understandable) amusement. They suggested we clear the sand around the back tyres and use the foot mats from the car for traction to get the car moving. Our car, unfortunately, had no foot mats so they let us borrow theirs and lo and behold, 60 seconds later we were out. We stopped, returned their foot mats, thanked them, got into the car, and realized that we had got stuck again. Sheepishly, we borrowed the mats again, and Refugee#1 drove out of the sand and only stopped once he was on an actual bit of concrete. Once again, we returned the mats, thanked the couple, and headed to the car. All this hard work had made us hot and sticky, so we got ice-creams from an ice-cream truck by the parking lot, and it was quite easily the best ice-cream I have ever tasted. It was called, 'Cow Pat', and it was lush! (Sadly, the truck was not there on future trips to Castlerock beach so I've had to make my peace with only having eaten it once.) Ices done, we started our journey back (with Big-Talking-UPite once again fast asleep in the back seat) and thankfully reached the airport and returned the car with no more drama.

This recipe is for a dish that Big-Talking-UPite, the lovable, rarely showering sloth excelled at, that I have made a few times over the years in an effort to recreate his magic.

For my Masala Khichdi, you will need the following: 

Rice	1 cup
Toor dal	1 cup
Potato	1 large
Capsicum (green pepper)	1 large
Garlic	5-6 cloves
Green chillies	2-3
Jeera (cumin seeds)	2 tsp
Red chilli powder	2 tsp
Haldi (turmeric powder)	1-2 tsp
Salt	to taste
Ghee

Prep:

1. Cube the potato (small cubes).
2. Chop the capsicum.
3. Chop the chillies.
4. Mince the garlic.

Method:

Masala:

1. Turn on the gas.
2. Bung a pan on.
3. Splash in some ghee.
4. Count to 20.
5. Pop in the jeera.
6. Roll in the chillies.
7. Plop in the garlic.
8. Shake in the red chilli powder, and the haldi.
9. Mix and cook for a few seconds.
10. Pop in the cubed potato.
11. Add salt to taste.
12. Toss until covered by the masala.
13. Pop a lid on.
14. Cook for 5-8 mins until the potato is nearly done.
15. Take the lid off.
16. Pop in the capsicum.
17. Mix.
18. Cook until the capsicum softens and the potato is done.
19. Turn the gas off.

Khichdi:

1. Grab a pressure cooker.
2. Toss in the rice.
3. Plonk in the dal.
4. Rinse 4 times in cold water until the water runs clear.
5. Add water until the rice and dal mixture is submerged 3 fingers deep.
6. Spoon in some ghee.
7. Sprinkle in salt to taste.
8. Sprinkle on some haldi.
9. Mix.
10. Slap the lid on.
11. Turn on the gas.
12. Bung the cooker on.
13. Cook for 4-5 whistles.
14. Turn the gas off.
15. Wait until the steam leaves the cooker.
16. Pop the lid open.

Putting it all together:

1. Turn on the gas.
2. Bung the khichdi cooker on.
3. Adjust the consistency. (Add water if it is too thick, dry it out if it's too runny.)
4. Add in the masala.
5. Cook together for a few minutes. (Keep adjusting the consistency.)
6. Turn the gas off.
7. Spoon in a dollop of ghee.
8. Serve with dahi (yoghurt) and achaar (pickle).
9. Stuff face.
10. Bask in the glory of your successfully executed dish.

Tip: Keep it the consistency of porridge. It's awesome that way! Also, if you're going to be driving on the beach, make sure you have your foot mats.

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

Besan Ke Laddoo

Hello, boys and girls!

Welcome to cooking with Varun! It's common knowledge that India not only has a lot of people, it has people from different faiths and beliefs, so it is only natural that we have a lot of festivals as well. From colour to fireworks to dance to food, we've got it all covered. My favourite of all these, without a doubt, is Diwali (although I claimed it was Holi in school since it was easier to write an essay on).

Every year, on Diwali, my mum sets up the mandir and diyas, plugs in the fairy lights, makes the mithai, and in the evening, we all sit down with the door ajar for the pooja, after which we go out, set off fireworks, and then go to one in a series of Diwali parties at a family friend's house. Unfortunately, for a few years, I wasn't in the country and would miss out on the tradition (and the festivities), so as a workaround, I would call or Skype into the pooja at home, then try and do something traditional after. While in the UK, there were a lot of Indians around so we'd usually do something together; one year a group of us drove to Leicester for the celebrations where we pigged out on chaat and watched a fantastic fireworks display. Of course, it took us 20 minutes to walk 20 feet with all the people there, but it was Diwali, so we didn't really care. A couple of times I went to visit my close friends and spent time with their family so it was all good. While I was in Istanbul, Turkey, however, there was a very small group of us, and given the lack of Indians in Istanbul in general, there was no plan. So after my customary pooja Skype, I decided to make a mithai at home. Normally I'd make kheer or halwa, but this time I was determined to try something different. I looked through my (very large) stock of ingredients, and spied a packet of besan in the back, and figured I'd try some besan ke laddoo. So I cranked up the music, got cooking, and an hour later (it was my first time), I stood proudly over a plate of besan ke laddoos as I tried to ignore the burning in my palms from rolling the too-hot mixture. It was worth it though, since in my head, I had salvaged my Diwali with a good dish, and my colleagues who ate the laddoos the next day, seconded (or at least pretended to) my sentiments.

This is the recipe to my besan ke laddoo, may it serve you as well as it has me!

For my Besan Ke Laddoo, you will need the following:

Besan (gram flour)	4 cups
Ghee (clarified butter)	2 cups
Powdered sugar	2 cups
Almonds	handful
Cashewnuts	handful

Prep:

1. Crush/finely chop the almonds and cashews.
2. Sift the besan through a sieve to get the lumps out.

Method:

1. Turn on the gas.
2. Bung a pan on.
3. Pop in the besan.
4. Dry roast the besan for about 10 minutes until it browns and you get a warm nutty aroma. (Keep moving it or it will brown and burn faster than me at a beach!)
5. Stir in the ghee a little at a time until it's all in there. (You want a consistency that you can roll, so make sure it's not too dry or too wet.)
6. Sprinkle on the sugar.
7. Toss in the crushed almonds and cashews.
8. Mix well.
9. Cook for another 10 minutes. (Again, keep moving it so it doesn't burn.)
10. Turn the gas off.
11. Let the mixture cool just enough that you don't burn your hands while rolling it.
12. Begin rolling into laddoos.
13. Burn hands.
14. Curse.
15. Wait another few minutes.
16. Resume rolling.
17. Stick a cashew on top of each laddoo to make it look pretty.
18. Serve.
19. Stuff face.
20. Bask in the glory of your successfully executed dish.

Tip: Taste the mixture as you're roasting it. If it tastes raw, roast it some more.

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

Spaghetti & Mozzarella Stuffed Meatballs

Hello, boys and girls!

Welcome to cooking with Varun. My roommate in Solihull, UK, Ms. Popularity, while being reasonably intelligent, did some really silly things from time to time. Things like forgetting her keys and ringing the doorbell late at night, much to the ire of our landlady, my British mum, or not closing the fridge door after dinner one night only to find a puddle of water all over the floor the next day (not to mention the food we had to throw away). But these pale in comparison to her one shining moment of genius: washing out a tin of tomatoes before chucking it in the bin.

Usually I'd do the cooking, and she'd do the washing up (because let's face it, cooking is so much easier!), and this time was no different. I had cooked, and since we were out of fresh tomatoes, I'd used a tin instead. As was customary, I set the tin aside with the rest of the stuff to bin (peels and whatnot). We finished eating, and Ms. Popularity started cleaning up. As I lounged around, playing with cats, I heard a gasp followed by a whimper. I walked over to the sink to where Ms. Popularity had been doing the dishes and saw her holding up her right hand, which was starting to look increasingly scarlet. Realizing she had cut her hand, I did the first thing I could think of. I ran. Out of the kitchen and into the living room where my British mum was watching the telly; because who better to call for help in a crisis than a mother? We rushed into the kitchen to find Ms. Popularity still standing over the sink, this time in tears, as she struggled to stem the gentle stream of dark red that was dripping into the.. wait for it.. the tin that she was washing with her bare hands before tossing into the garbage! Part of me wanted to rant and rage at her (not) cleverness, because who washes something before throwing it away? Rinse it, sure, but wash? As my British mum tied her hand up with a bandage and bundled her into the car to take her to the emergency room, I put the rest of the things away and tried not to think of the bloodbath. 

She did recover eventually. It took a few weeks (and medical glue), and I even went to the hospital with her once to get the dressing changed (which is a big deal because I avoid hospitals like I avoid baingan, or like Superman avoids kryptonite). Still haven't stopped reminding her about it at every chance I get. This recipe needs a lot of tomatoes, and the tinned variety really gives it a lovely bright red colour, so if you do decide to use a tin, please be careful! Or just get a bottle of passata! You're less likely to end up going to the emergency room that way.

For my Spaghetti & Mozzarella Stuffed Meatballs, you will need the following: 

Spaghetti	300 gms
Mince (meat of choice)	300 gms
Tomatoes	3-4 (or a tin)
Onion	1
Garlic	5-6 cloves
Mozzarella	100 gms (brilliant if you can get the little balls)
Rosemary	2-3 tsp
Oregano	2-3 tsp
Thyme	2-3 tsp
Paprika	2-3 tsp
Bread	2 slices (crust cut off)
Milk	splash
Pepper	to taste
Salt	to taste
Sugar	to taste
Olive oil

Prep:

1. Chop the onion. (Not too fine.)
2. Slice the garlic.
3. Blitz the tomatoes. (Please be careful, and don't cut your finger on the tin if you're using the canned variety.)
4. Grab a small bowl.
5. Break the bread into small pieces and pop it into the bowl.
6. Splash in the milk.
7. Mush it all together. (This will make your meatballs turn out soft.)
8. Grab a bigger bowl.
9. Plonk the mince in.
10. Sprinkle on some of the spices.
11. Add salt and pepper to taste.
12. Plop in the bread mush.
13. Mix. (Don't overwork the meat or pound it like you're kneading dough.)
14. Roll a meatball. (To decide on the size.)
15. Flatten it.
16. Place a mozzarella ball in the centre.
17. Roll the meat around it.
18. Repeat until all the meatballs have been rolled.

Method:

1. Turn on the gas.
2. Bung a pan on.
3. Splash in the olive oil.
4. Count to 20.
5. Toss in the onion.
6. Cook until translucent.
7. Pop in the garlic.
8. Pour in the pureed tomatoes.
9. Splash in some water (if it is too thick).
10. Sprinkle in the herbs.
11. Add salt, pepper, and sugar to taste. (The sugar is to balance the tang from the tomatoes.)
12. Mix.
13. Plop in the meatballs.
14. Gently mix until the sauce covers the meatballs.
15. Slap a lid on.
16. Cook for about 15 minutes until the meatballs are done.
17. Turn the gas off.
18. (In the meantime) Turn on another burner.
19. Crank up the heat to high.
20. Pop a saucepan on.
21. Fill it about 3/4 with water.
22. Splash in some olive oil.
23. Sprinkle in some salt.
24. Bring to a boil.
25. Drop the heat and bring the water to a simmer.
26. Pop in your spaghetti.
27. Cook until the spaghetti is al dente (cooked but has a slight bite).
28. Turn the gas off.
29. Drain the spaghetti.
30. Plop the drained spaghetti onto the meatball sauce.
31. Mix.
32. Serve with a glass of red.
33. Stuff face.
34. Bask in the glory of your successfully executed dish.

Tip: Retain some of the starchy water from when you drain the spaghetti and stir it into the sauce to make it silky.

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