Baked Fish With Tomato Basil Sauce

Hello, boys and girls!

Welcome to cooking with Varun! Weddings are an excellent time. Not only for the people in attendance, for the couple in question as well. How do I know this? Simple. I got married!

In the summer of 2017, after a whirlwind romance, complete with inter-city travel, clandestine meetings, battling stubborn parents, dancing around trees with 7 costume changes (Okay, maybe I embellished that last one. It was only 3 changes.), Ball-and-chain and I finally got married. On the evening of the wedding, in my baraat, I sat stoically astride a gorgeous white mare, resplendent in the traditional garb of dapper sherwani, flowery sehera, and soon to be stolen juttis (or jootis if you prefer). The sehera dangling across my freshly de-whiskered face concealing the pained expression brought upon by the saddle I was perched on. The  very saddle that was strapped to my nervously twitching mare, causing it to rub uncomfortably against my posterior. All around me, family, friends, and relatives were dancing with gay abandon to the tunes being belted out by a brass band, oblivious to the amused looks thrown their way by people passing by. Up on my high horse (quite literally), I was joined by my nephew who was playing the role of my sarbala. The frenzied dancing continued for another half hour after which everyone popped indoors to 'cool off' leaving me waiting in the car (the ceremonial horse had been taken away once the dancing had ceased). A point to remember here is, while Punjabi weddings (a multi-day affair) are well known for the free flowing alcohol, drinking on the day of the wedding is a no-no owing to the fact that a holy ceremony takes place on the day. However, a no-no doesn't expressly say it is forbidden, which basically translates to, 'Get hammered, but don't make it obvious lest you hurt somebody's sentiments'.

After what felt like an eternity (you can't rush the cooling off process!), we set off to the hotel that was our wedding venue. After another half hour of frenzied dancing at the hotel entrance, our family was met at the door by the representatives of Ball-and-chain's family where after the milni (meeting of the family elders), we were ushered into the wedding hall. I was seated on a couch on a stage to await the arrival of my soon to be wife. She walked in, prettier than a picture, flanked by her brothers and took the seat by my side. What followed was smiling (till our faces hurt) for the photographer as people queued up to wish us the best and then wandered off to either get dinner or to head up to my cousin's room which had been granted the priviledge of doubling as the secret booze room. The line seemed never ending and we were getting hungrier by the minute until my heroic cousins stepped in. One cousin, arms laden with food stood solidly between us and the photographer and made sure we ate until we felt better, the other, handed us little bottles of water with a wink. Confused, we took a sip and discovered that he had filled the bottles up with white wine allowing us to drink undetected until it was time for the pheras. Buzzing, we sat down in the mandap and between pouring ghee into the fire when asked, my tipsy Ball-and-chain and I giggled and had a mini duel with the long spoons. Not long after, we had completed the pheras, finished the post wedding rituals, and were offially hitched! It was 3 a.m. at this point so we did the most logical thing we could. We went up to the secret booze room, ate leftovers, and played Uno with our siblings and cousins until we retired to our own quarters.

As far as this recipe is concerned, the great part about it is that you don't need to smuggle the wine in like contraband, you can pour it straight from the bottle!

For my Baked Fish With Tomato Basil Sauce, you will need the following:

Salmon	4 fillets
Garlic	3-4 cloves
Cherry tomatoes	250 gms
Basil	big handful
White wine	1 cup
Sugar	to taste
Salt	to taste
Olive oil

Prep:

1. Preheat the oven to 250 degrees (c).
2. Halve the cherry tomatoes.
3. Chiffonade the basil. (That's a fancy way of saying stack the basil leaves on top of each other, roll them into a fat cigar, and slice them. That way you get really pretty basil ribbons.)
4. Mince the garlic.
5. Top the salmon fillets with about 3/4th of the minced garlic, salt, and a drizzle of olive oil.

Method:

For the fish:

1. Plop the prepped fish on an oven tray.
2. Open the over door.
3. Shove the tray in.
4. Shut the oven door. (Takes about 10 minutes.)
5. Begin making the sauce.

For the sauce:

1. Turn on the gas.
2. Bung a pan on.
3. Drizzle in some olive oil.
4. Slide in the halved tomatoes, skin side down.
5. Sprinkle on some salt.
6. Cook until they soften and the skin gets crinkly.
7. Toss in the rest of the garlic.
8. Flip the tomatoes to cook them on the other side.
9. Toss in most of the basil. (Reserve a little for the garnish.)
10. Pour in the wine.
11. Bring to a boil.
12. Drop to a simmer.
13. Sprinkle some sugar in to balance the sourness from the tomatoes. 
14. Test for salt.
15. Turn the gas off.

To serve:

1. Turn off the oven.
2. Open the oven door.
3. Get the fish out.
4. Shut the oven door.
5. Grab a nice white plate.
6. Place the fish on.
7. Spoon over the sauce.
8. Garnish with the rest of the basil.
9. Serve with garlic bread, salad, or whatever you feel like. 
10. Stuff face.
11. Bask in the glory of your successfully executed dish.

Tip: I prefer salmon for this dish because I love the flavour, and how it flakes once you've baked it. You can use any fish you want as long as it doesn't taste too strong. Also, basa is useless. Stop buying it.

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

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!