French Toast: Middle Eastern or Mediterranean?

I've been baking cookies. You know, trying out the bazillion "Best Choc-Chip Cookies Ever!" recipes floating around the food blogosphere. I've succumbed to all the tricks and tactics of the trade: adding an extra egg yolk, using cake flour, stuffing it with chunks of chocolate, refrigerating cookie dough for 36 hours, resisting eating raw cookie dough for the 24+ hours. The whole nine and a freaking half yards.

So you know what my post is going to be. Not Chocolate chip cookies. Had enough of them  for a while.

Middle-Eastern French toast.

I'm sorry for the build-up. Please go do some cardio+crunches(20 reps, 3 sets), and I'll have about six batches of Chocolate Chip Cookies prettily ready for you in a couple of days!

Middle-Eastern French Toast was the result of a happy accident. By that, I mean I overheard my 8-year-old sister instructing mum on how she wanted her french toast. It could also mean that I stole a slice of her French toast (and swooned) as I'd rather my metabolism went for a toss than eat Ragi Kazhi for breakfast. P.S.: It isn't a frou-frou thing. I like Kazhi, just not the ones made with Calcium-enriched Diabetic food.

Sumi had this brilliant idea of adding pinches and pinches of saffron strands to the French toast egg mix... she probably thought it'd make it taste like kheer or sheer korma.



She isn't at the age where she understands how much each milligram costs... and if I tell her that mind-altering drugs cost less, I'd be killed by mum for a) "spoiling your sister and making her exactly like you" b) even if it's been two years since I graduated Medical school, Mum chooses to believe that her 24-year-old daughter has no clue about the existence of "drugs" or where babies come from; simply because unmarried girls mustn't know/speak of "these things".
I'll spare you the lengthy diatribe this post is evolving into... and teach you how to make Middle-Eastern french toast.

It's easy, you'll know how to make it already (I use the base recipe from i am baker). To go along with it, I suggest a simple, luxurious dry-fruit milk we make only (justifiably) in the month of Ramadan.

Middle-Eastern French Toast:

Ingredients:

2 eggs
1/2 cup + 2 tbsps milk
2 tbsp sugar
a pinch of salt
3/4 tsp rosewater
7-8 strands of Saffron
5-6 slices bread


Method:

Heat the 2 tbsp milk until it's boiling. Add the saffron strands to it and squeeze the extract out of it. Keep aside the saffron to infuse in the milk until cool.

In a large bowl, beat together the eggs, milk (both the plain and saffron-soaked), sugar, salt and rosewater.

Silly me forgot to do the saffron-infusion before hand. You must, though!

Heat an non-stick pan or griddle. Add a pat of butter or ghee.

Dip a slice of bread into the milk mix. Do not let it soak too much, as there won't be enough egg-milk mix for the rest of the bread.

Cook the dipped bread on medium-low, about 2 minutes on each side.

Do NOT use skim milk and wholewheat bread. Please.

Take it out and serve hot with Saffron honey and butter!

A dusting of confectioners' sugar is pretty handy when you're out of honey.



Could not resist a couple of bites fresh off the griddle, pre-photo session!



Dry-fruit milk:

Ingredients:
1 cup whole milk.
5-6 walnuts
4-5 almonds
4-5 unsalted pistachios
5 raisins or a couple of chopped up dates
a pinch of saffron
1 tbsp sugar (or more, per your liking. Remember, dates are sweet!)

Method:

Feel free to use and hold off on the dry fruits of your choice!

Combine all the ingredients in a bowl. Cover it with plastic wrap/lid, and refrigerate overnight (minimum7 hours).

You can eat it by itself or with the french toast!

Suddenly can't wait for Ramadan. For more reasons than one.

The Doner Kebab/Chicken Shawarma Experiment Turned Lovechild.

How did I survive before Chicken Shawarma finally made it to Chennai?

Incidentally, how did I survive before Sub of The Day existed? Or Subway? I know they've pulled the offer; and it's thoroughly depressing.

Everything comes late to Madras, thanks to honcho-types firmly believing in the penny-pinching cliche of Tamilians. Cliche is not uncalled for, since Mum nearly goes into Kussmaul's breathing when she finds out how much fancy things like Callebaut gelato or a pint of Haagen-Dazs costs; and I always tell her only half of what it actually did.

What I meant by things coming late: KFC, Mocha, Costa, Starbucks and the like. Extremely annoying, except maybe when I have to pour/squeeze/pull/push/shimmy/wriggle into skinny jeans.

Along the way, I've learned to make most of the things these places have to offer. Breaded Chicken (way better than KFC's), Momofuku's Crack Pie (I've no clue about the original, but it'll be interesting to find out) and Magnolia Bakery's Cupcakes (Ditto).
Chicken Shawarma, I learnt to make quite recently. I'm sure you think there is no reason for you to attempt these, when there's a stall within 200 metres of your home.

I'd like to insist (very politely) that you try. You can control the spice mix, the moistness of the chicken, the crispness of the potato wedges, the fluffiness of the pita and instead of a gloopy mayonnaise, you can make your own garlic-scented tahini and yogurt sauce. Instead of a garden variety chicken-and-mayo roll (which at Rs. 50, is still ah-mazing). And it's supremely easy and takes up only one bowl (each).

This is one of the dishes that redeemed my savoury-cooking skills at home. I had to search high and low for the recipes of each of the components, and I am in love with all of them. The chicken part is from a Dubai-based site, so that comes with a Bonafide attestation. I added some garlicky fries, some tahini and shawarma pickles, because I'm a big believer of foodgasms.

I'm also going to try something new. I'll put up all the pictures and basic recipe details first, and a detailed and uninterrupted recipe below. Let me know if you like it!

Start off with the best spices you can find.

Pound the elaichi/cardamom pods, grind the cinnamon sticks, make your garam masala, whatever it takes.

Taste the marinade before the meat goes in and adjust, if necessary!

Marinate the chicken for at least an hour. Cover with cling film or some random lid and pop it into the refrigerator, if you live in a hot place like Madras!

Cook the chicken in all of the marinade over low heat, breaking it up as you go.

For the fries:

Refer to this post. And try parboiling, instead of microwaving... it makes a world of difference.

For the tahini-yogurt sauce:

Make a not pretty (but deelishus) batch of tahini.

Add lemon juice, salt and yogurt, playing by tongue and eye.

Use thick, preferably hung or Greek yogurt, for this sauce. You can make a regular yogurt sauce.

For the pita:

Make wholewheat pitas or buy the fluffiest, grainiest piece of pita bread in your city.

For the shawarma pickles:

Recipe coming soon! I don't give everything away on the first date. You can skip this step and add a couple of more drops of Tabasco, to spice it up.

Assembling these babies:

Get all of you stuff on one table and gather the people around it.

Slick the tahina-sauce on the pita.

Add chunks of cooked chicken.

Add the lettuce, pomegranate seeds, onions, tomatoes, shawama pickles and fries.

Splash on some tabasco, wrap it up and CHARGE!

Doner kebab/Chicken Shawarma Lovechild:

(marinade recipe from Sips and Spoonfuls)Ingredients:

For the chicken shawarma marinade:

500 gms boneless chicken, cut into 1 inch cubes

2 tbsp vegetable oil

½ cup thick yogurt

Juice of 1 lemon

1 tsp ground black pepper

1 tsp cardamom pod powder

1 tsp cinnamon powder

Salt to taste

½ tsp red chilli powder

½ tsp garam masala

3 tsps ginger-garlic paste

For the tahini-yogurt sauce:

1/2 cup white sesame seeds
3 tbsps Extra virgin olive oil
1 cup Greek/hung/full-fat yogurt
2 plump cloves of garlic
Juice and zest of 1 lemon
Salt and pepper, to taste

To serve:

1 batch of Garlicky baked fries
8 wholewheat pita bread (1 batch of this recipe)
1 cup iceberg lettuce, chopped
1 cup onion, chopped
1 cup cucumber, chopped
1 cup tomato, chopped
Pomegranate seeds.
Shawarma pickles.
Chopped coriander and mint leaves-plenty.
Tabasco, as needed.

Method:

For the chicken:

Marinate the chicken pieces in the marinade ingredients for at least an hour.

In a non-stick pan (no need to grease), over medium-low heat, cook the chicken for about 10 minutes. The marinade should have dried and the chicken should be moist and tender. Break up the chicken as it cooks.

Keep aside.

For the tahina sauce:

Roast the sesame seeds over low heat until it turns a pale shade of brown and pops. Take it off the pan in which it is heated, or it will continue to cook in the residual heat and burn.

Once cooled, grind the seeds to paste in a mixie/food processor. Add in the garlic, salt, olive oil, lemon juice and blitz until a nice paste is formed.

Add in the yogurt, and adjust the salt as per taste.

To assemble:

Heat the pita over a non-greased tawa for around 10 seconds on both sides, on medium heat.

Spread the tahina sauce on it.

Add the chicken, fries, pickles, lettuce, onions, tomatoes, pomegranate, herbs, tabasco as per each diner's choice.

Serve immediately.

Store each of the components separately, closed in the refrigerator.

I didn't bother with that, because there was enough left over for one tiny roll.

A midnight-snack-portion roll. As my own personal toast to the amazing Nigella Lawson. Cheers!

Spanish Saffron Orange Cake/The Sunshine Cake.

Since the last post on the blog (technically) wasn't dessert, I'm morally obliged to post one. Stat.

This dessert has neither butter nor chocolate in it. Before you go X-ing any Windows, hear me out. It's pretty darned good, and I have it on self-proclaimed excellent authority.

My love for the Mediterranean/Middle-East has grown exponentially over the years. Even though the closest I've got to either place are childhood trips to Paris and shopping/religious visits to the UAE/Saudi Arabia. The fear of sounding like a person who wants to go to "Swiss" for their honeymoon or whatever, keeps me from raving too much about Marrakesh and Mykonos. Discovery Travel & Living has completely done an Inception on my limited brain-space.

It's not just for the food (food is just 90% of the reason). The language, culture, people, smells and overall beauty beckons. And I'm fairly certain MSF (Doctors-Without-Borders) does not post you there, thanks to the lack of Multi Drug Resistant-TB cases and the like.. So I'll have to put these plans on hold until I turn 50 (average age at which a doctor pays off her med-school loans) or when my HLA-typing matches that of an uraemic millionaire (on a serious note, dodgy organ donations for profit is a cruel, unethical act).

So until the day I get to Greece or Turkey, I'll just cook up things with olive oil and chickpeas and plonk myself in front of a foreign film. "A Separation" was a movie I watched recently (yes, I succumb to Oscar buzz) and absolutely loved.

Between the ages of 12 and 17, I baked nothing but chocolate cake. I didn't even like eating anything other than chocolate cake. Until my aunt requested I make something other than "karuppu kokka cake". I made her an Irish Tea Cake she still remembers and mentions at many (and there are many) family gatherings. Since then, I've gone on to bake with everything from carrots to coconut to pumpkin.

The one I'm putting up today is a healthy, light cake you'd love with your morning cuppa.

Make it and one of the following scenarios will happen to you:-

Your mum would proudly send some over to the neighbours (instead of saying "cake again? Cook 'real' food"). Your aunt will request the recipe, thrice. Your cousins/friends would ask for thirds (especially if it's smothered with enough cream and jello). Your grandmother would reminisce about the good old days and since it's not horribly-unhealthy, you make two halfhearted attempts to remind her of glycemic control and stop. The New Family will call you at midnight and thank you whilst you pretend you just rustled it up in your sleep. It's a winner.

Or you can just drink the orange and saffron-scented batter and live fattily happily ever after. It's the blessed truth.

Spanish Saffron Orange Cake:
(Recipe Source: The Greystone  Bakery Cookbook)

Ingredients:

4 cups all-purpose flour
2 Tablespoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
4 eggs
1-1/2 cups granulated white sugar
2 cups plain whole milk yogurt
2/3 cup vegetable oil (I used 1/3 olive oil, 1/3 cup vegetable oil)
Juice and zest of 2 oranges
2 teaspoons vanilla extract/essence
5 Tablespoons powdered sugar or honey
a pinch of saffron
1 tsp powdered cardamom (from 6-7 elaichi pods)
1 tbsp hot milk

Method:

Grease and flour a 12-cup bundt pan. Preheat oven to 180 degrees Celsius, 375 degrees F.
If you're using a smaller pan, halve the recipe or bake in two batches.

In a medium sized bowl, whisk together flour, baking powder, salt and ground cardamom.

Add half the saffron to it to the milk in a small cup and keep aside, letting the saffron infuse into it.

Horrendously expensive Spanish Saffron. You can use much lesser and get away with it.

In a big bowl, mix together the orange zest and granulated sugar.

Rub it all in, until the sugar is tinted orange and the essential oils of the zest flavour the sugar.

Add the eggs to the bowl with the sugar and beat until the mix is thick and pale yellow.  Add the yogurt, oil, 2 Tablespoon of orange juice, saffron milk and vanilla essence.  Stir well to combine.  Fold in the flour mixture.

Pour the batter into the prepared pan.

Bake for 45 to 50 minutes (much lesser baking time if you halve the recipe), or until the top is golden brown and a wooden skewer comes out clean when inserted near the center.

Place the pan on a wire rack for 10 minutes to cool.  Run a knife around the edges of the cake, separating it from the pan. Turn it out and cool completely.

To make the glaze:

Sorry for the horrid picture. My spatial orientation gets out of whack around hot sugar.

In a heatproof bowl, combine the remaining orange juice, remaining saffron and honey/sugar. Heat over medium until it comes to a boil and then turn the heat to Low/Sim. Once it forms a syrup (around 10 minutes), take it off the heat. Poke holes all over the cake with a toothpick. Pour the warm glaze over the cool cake.

This cake apparently keeps well, when wrapped well, for around 2 days. I can't promise that in Madras (heat) or in my household (gluttony).

If you're giving away the cake to someone, always bake a small portion in a cupcake liner, just so you know it does not taste horrendous. You can use pretty cupcake liners, if you have kickass friends like Anisha L!

Serve the way your heart chooses. Especially if you're like me and can't plate food beautifully.

Sprinkle some more powdered sugar on top, if you like to keep it simple.

 I made a "creme Anglaise" with Foster-Clark's custard powder and added a pinch of saffron and half a cup of blanched and chopped pistachios and almonds to it.

You can elevate it with a few fresh orange segments or raspberry/strawberry flavoured jelly/Jell-O. MMM.

I'm going to call this The Sunshine Cake because the actual name is a little long and snobby (it can get away with the pishposh 'tude, mind you). This might even wipe out all negative connotations Sunshine has, thanks to the Merciless May Madras Heat.

By The Bay!

Madras during the Monsoon.

I apologise, in advance, if I take a detour from the grub-talk and wax eloquently on the sporadic-yet-bloody-gorgeous showers (replete with thunder and lightening, I kid you not), the cliched mugs of hot cocoa in front of the window (chai-and-pakoda, corn on the cob, pick your poison) and state-declared holidays.

Not to mention what happens to the beach. Besant Nagar, in this context, in all obviousness. It's desolate (compared to your regular Sunday-rush of families with screechy children, lovers perched under roomy umbrellas and a paraphernalia of vendors selling everything from plastic watches, bootha kannadi to molaga bajjis.)

And the food there. You want momos? Got it.

Sweet corn with a myriad of seasoning? Got it.

Gelato and Ice Gola? Check and Check.

Expensive coffee, beach-side burgers, Dindugal Thalapakkatu Biryani? Yes, yes and yes.

It never was complete, though. La Boulangerie's chocolate cake and FunkJazz's doughnuts should logically hit the spot for me. Still. There was a niggling hole in the picture.

I wanted something more. Something warm. Toasty. Spicy. Hearty. The rain awakens taste buds you didn't know existed.

The answer to that Sphinx-y question can only be ONE thing. A shawarma!

The shawarmas I've had in India are a disappointment and a half. Thin white quboos: Blahdom. Oily mayonnaise making the whole thing soggy: Instant turn-off. Chicken filling: Usually yum, but overwhelmed by the fatty mayo and the sad little shreds of cabbage.

That is not a shawarma, people. If you want a real shawarma as God intended to be, in all its goodness, go to By The Bay. A Lebanese restaurant right next to Mash and FunkJazz on Besant Nagar Beach Road. They make a mean shawarma, pretty damn close to the actual thing and quite frankly, the best I've had in Madras.

You'll have to wait 15 minutes for it to be done. Completely worth it. The proportions are such that you'll have to hold with two hands. Sold.

Notice the panini/sandwich maching thingy? That's to toast the whole thing.

Fat, warm quboos envelopes grilled chicken with the tastiest spice rub, potato wedges, red cabbage, flecks of parsley and a thoum (garlic cream) so delicious, I want to use it as Body Butter for the rest of my life.

The whole shawarma is toasted after being assembled, the grill marks showing up on the bread. It is an experience. My only grouse was the potato wedges weren't crisp enough, but they melded into a mashed-potato-y cream in the shawarma, so it wasn't that big of a deal. You'll also need to stuff in the pickled radishes and cucumber if you like your shawarmas salty.

Just make the perfect bite, look into the rain and indulge.

The chicken and beef Shawarma both cost around 100 bucks each.

The Chicken Laham pita-wich (sandwich, in a pita bread) consists of three sheek-type charcoal grilled kebabs on a decent-sized pita. The pita is strewed with crunchy, flavourful onions, parsley and more thoum, pickles and french fries. At 120 bucks, it's a steal.

The other thing we ordered was a stew-type thing. Charcoal grilled shammi-shaped chicken with a vinegary stew filled with hearty carrots, potatoes, broccoli, onions, peppers and middle eastern-spices.

Along with Qabsa (arabic biryani), fries, a bread-basket filled with warm pita, hummus, thoum, pickles. All this for Rs. 240. Hard to believe? And most of the components were well-executed and a delight to sample. The Arabic biryani alone was little too oily for me... it wasn't all yellow and fluffy and steamy the way I usually have Qabsa.

Two of us could not finish the whole thing, but it was one heck of a delicious try.

The one other thing you must sample are the Za'atyers. Reminiscent of a pizza, it consists of sauces and chicken and cheese (subbing Haloumi and Muhammara-ish sauce, of course) and it smelt amazing, coming fresh out of a real wood-fired oven; something I'm definitely going back for.

By The Bay is one of the newer additions to Madras's culinary scene that I'm in love with. I hope it stays this way..

Their tag line reads "Not Authentically Arabic", but at these prices? لذيذ جدا

One more thing that'll take me back is the desserts I didn't have room to sample! They have Mohalabbia on the menu and it has my name written all over it. Literally and figuratively.

Eid Mubarak and Sorry. And Baklava Muhalabbiya.

It's been a week since Eid; my grandiose plans for putting up recipes for Eid dishes all over the world have obviously not fallen through. Shame on me.

To make up for the deficit, I'm going to pull out of my Toque blanche a Double-Delight! kind of recipe. I've professed my love for Greek and Middle-Eastern food, time after time. Fallen short at the dessert category, though. Blasphemy after blasphemy.

So. I give you. Baklava Muhalabbiya.

Don't X this tab just yet. I know Baklava (or anything with phyllo pastry in it) sounds scary. Especially since even the most upmarket of Madras's groceries don't stock any frozen phyllo sheets. You can do one step better. Find a friendly neighbourhood bakery and give in your order for "puff pastry", one day before you actually need it. If you're in and around Egmore, you have two options.

Hot Puffs 2010 on Casa Major Road and there's this other bakery in Chetpet (opposite McNichols Road) with extremely humble/kind/unpretentious(you know the kind) that will mix you up an extra batch of puff pastry when they make theirs fresh, each day.

However, I went around searching for it on the eve of Eid, and my luck ran out... I had come too late, they had finished baking (and selling out) their puffs for the day and won't start until tomorrow morning, they were very sorry, but the dough needs to rest and chill, but could they give it to me by noon tomorrow?

With as much politeness as I could muster up, I turned them down. The Baklava Muhalabbiya were meant to be delivered by 10 the next day, and you need to let the baked pastry soak in the sugar syrup overnight. So I took on the herculean task of making my own phyllo pastry.

I can say that I succeeded... somewhat. It won't be as thin as store-bought phyllo and requires a little arm-power, but very worth the effort, I think. The recipe I used gave me around 17 sheets, which I didn't think were enough at all. But I ate enough of the muhalabbiya filling during prep-and-cooking so the recipe got into decent proportions somehow. How could I not stuff my face with a creamy, cinnamon-scented phirni/kesari type thingy? I'm a sucker for most things dairy.

And one last thing I need to tell you about this is that it is kind of a sugar bomb, not unlike a Gulab Jamun. The flakiness of the pastry gets a teeny bit overshadowed by the muhalabbiya, but I could stop shoving the wonky bits that couldn't go into the box,  my mouth. It was Eid, people. Calorie-counting is against the law on Eid.

Baklava Muhalabbiya:

Recipe source:
For the Baklava: Desert Candy
For the phyllo pastry: Daring Bakers' challenge

Making the phyllo pastry *:


1 1/3 cups (200 g) all-purpose flour
1/8 teaspoon salt
7 tablespoons water, plus more if needed
2 tablespoons vegetable oil, plus additional for coating the dough
1/2 teaspoon cider vinegar (I used regular white)

*Defrost around 20 sheets of readymade phyllo pastry if buying

Making the muhalabbiya:

1/3 cup semolina (Rava)
1/4 cup white sugar
2 cups milk
1/4 tsp each, cinnamon, nutmeg
pinch salt

Making the syrup:

1 1/2 cups sugar
1 cup water
1 tbsp rose water
1 tbsp orange blossom or lemon juice
A stick of cinnamon, 1-2 cloves

Method:

Making the phyllo pastry:

Combine flour and salt in a bowl.

Mix water, vinegar and oil in a small bowl.

Beat it into the flour until it's combine.

Change the paddle attachment to a dough hook.

If you don't have a dough hook, you can knead with your hand.




This is a wee bit dry. A tablespoon of water can be added. Use your discretion!

 
Knead for 10 minutes with a dough hook or 20 minutes by hand. A smooth ball should form.

Coat the ball and the bowl with a tablespoon or so of vegetable oil. Put the oiled dough into the bowl. Cover with cling film. Let it rest at room temperature for around 2 hours.

Rolling out the phyllo sheets:

Divide the rested dough into 18 equal-sized balls.

Flour a smooth surface generously.

Roll out the dough as thin as possible with a rolling pin. The sheets should get almost translucent and see-through.

 It's OK if a few of them have holes in them. The top two sheets have to be perfect because that is what the eye sees.

Making the sugar syrup:

Place sugar, water, flower water and spices in a saucepan. Bring to boil, stirring to dissolve. Let it boil for a couple of minutes, and take it off the heat. Cool completely before using.

It should be as thick as Gulab Jamun syrup, but not as thin as Rasagolla syrup either.

Making the Muhalabbiya:

 Place milk, sugar, spices, and salt in a sauce pan, with the heat set on low heat. Stir the mix, bringing it a simmer. Add in the semolina slowly, stirring to combine. Let it continue to simmer for around 6 minutes, just make sure it doesn't become too dry. It'll continue to thicken up as it cools.

Set it aside at room temperature to cool completely before using in the Baklava.

Assembling the Baklava:

Preheat the oven to 350 F or 180 C

Melt the ghee or make your own clarified butter.

Grease a 9 inch baking dish with ghee or clarified butter. Place a phyllo sheet. Brush on melted ghee using a pastry brush. I used my fingers to dab the globs of ghee over the sheet.

Repeat with 9 more sheets, brushing with ghee for each one.

Pour in the muhalabbiya (completely cooled) on top of the 9th sheet. Smooth the top.

Continue adding the remaining sheets, adding ghee to each sheet.

Brush the final sheet with ghee.

Cut the baklava into pieces, either square or diamond-shaped.

Bake until the top is flaky/crispy for about 30 minutes.

Pour the cooled syrup over the piping hot baklava. This is the only way to get crispy baklava.

Don't flood the whole thing too much... I found the sugar syrup a teeny bit more than I'd want. 0.4 cm above the level of the pastry, maybe?

Let it soak the syrup in, overnight (8 hours minimum). Do not refrigerate.

Sprinkle chopped pistachios or almonds over the top.

This keeps for about 2-3 days, maximum. And yes, you can refrigerate after the soaking-in process... you have no choice with the notorious heat here in Madras/Chennai.

Would I make this again? Maybe if I find someone who likes scented, syrupy things. The muhalabbiya I'll be making very many times on the rare rainy nights. Like I need more comfort (albeit fattening) things in my life.

Sigh.