When I lived in India, I
disliked bitter gourd with a passion. I thought it an unnatural, dangerous,
distasteful vegetable, with its ridged skin not unlike the hides of alligators,
its large, hard seeds that cracked and lodged between your teeth, and its acrid
bitterness that remained in your mouth no matter what you ate afterwards. My
mother thought otherwise. The result was many tearful mealtime struggles.
[Photo credit: Pbase.com]
So I am well aware of the irony in the fact that today bitter gourd has become one of my favorite vegetables, and that I try to present it in various palatable disguises to my own children. This has resulted partly because I've developed a taste for its unique, tangy bitterness and partly because I'm now aware of its health benefits. (It can help people with diabetes, toxemia, obesity, high blood pressure, and eye and skin problems, among others.) But mostly it is because of nostalgia, because the taste brings the India of my childhood back to me. In this, I believe I'm not alone. Food is an easy way to transport our culture to a strange land, and transport ourselves back to familiar landscapes at the same time.
In my novel One Amazing Thing, Uma's parents, who live in America, constantly cook the dishes of their youth, although they also add a new cuisine to their repertoire--another skill the immigrant must learn. "They celebrated weekends with gusto, getting together with other suburbanite Indian families, orchestrating elaborate, schizophrenic meals (mustard fish and fried bitter gourd for the parents; spaghetti with meatballs and peach pie for the children)."
Fried bitter gourd (which can be found, outside India, in Asian or Indian grocery stores) can be prepared in many ways in Bengali cuisine. Here is a simple version.
Thinly slice bitter gourd into circles (2 cups worth). Rub with 1/4 t turmeric. Add salt to taste. Put aside for an hour. Squeeze out excess water. (This makes it less bitter).
In a pan, add enough oil (I use Canola) to cover the bottom. Fry the bitter gourd slices on medium heat until they are crisp and brown. Add red pepper to taste. (I add a ¼ t). If you want to reduce the bitter taste further, mix in a ¼ t. sugar. Drain on paper towels.
Eat with hot rice.
For a complete meal, this first course can be followed by chochhori (a mixed vegetable dish) and a chicken yogurt curry, ending with mango ice cream for dessert. All these recipes are on this blog.
Enjoy!
Do you have your own recipes for bitter gourd? Or other nostalgic dishes from your childhood? Please post--I'd love to know of them.
I still hate "teeta korola" but now so many thousand miles from home I am happy to eat it simply to capture the nostalgia of home. On the other hand I have always loved "shutki mach" (dried fish) (my parents were Slyhetis). Thanks for this nice post.
I know what you mean, Shona! Foods of our youth leave an imprint on our minds, don't they! Do you know how to make shutki mach? I believe it's quite difficult.
This nostalgia for childhood foods made me think of my grandmother's peanut butter fudge. (I'm from America's Midwest.) The recipe called for sticks of butter, cups of sugar, and massive tablespoons of peanut butter. My grandmother believed the fudge set well only in cold weather and so she made it just at Christmas. My brother and I quickly learned to anticipate and to savor this wonderful holiday treat.
Thank you, Chitra, for this post that reawakened a lovely memory of my grandmother.
Thanks, Ann, for sharing this special memory and dish. Great to hear from you. Did you discuss any historic dishes in your novel The Personal History of Rachel DuPree?
Chitra, thank you for mentioning my novel. It takes place in the South Dakota Badlands during a drought in 1917 and food supplies are down to canned fruit, rattlesnake meat (yummm....), and soda biscuits. The name soda biscuit is a bit misleading since the end result is more like a thick dry cracker rather than a biscuit.
During my research for the novel, I was surprised to discover that settlers in the American West had very poor diets. Fresh fruit and vegetables were a rarity and most ate only the canned versions. Women had gardens but if the weather didn't cooperate, they had little to can for the winter months. Even with healthy gardens, their canned goods often ran out by spring. Their diets were heavy with starch, and soda biscuits were a staple.
Thank goodness for today's refrigeration and grocery stores!
Thanks, Ann. It's quite fascinating to see how much our lifestyles & eating habits have changed in less than a century.
I felt so much in sync about the uchchhe that I had to gulp down in my childhood vowing never to touch them when I would do be in charge of any kitchen in this world. Now, to think about it, I have the bitter gourd vines coming up in my garden as I wait for it to gift me its first crop very soon! My husband simply loves them and would love to share a chochchori recipe and I will share one of my mom's favorites!
I love your blog since it offers some food for our taste buds too! Literary and literally!
Balaka
This uchchhe/korola recipe is my husband's delight! He takes as much satisfaction in preparing it as in its eating! It is very spicy, and I must caution you that you need to tweak it to your taste when you cook it yourself. He also believes in being generous with the oil, and we jokingly refer to the indulgence as the "critical factor"! Without it, the recipe might suffer the risk of resembling a "hospital" version. I should, aptly, add the disclaimer here for those who eat the bitter gourd solely to boost their immunity and to control their blood sugar -- "eating spicy karela is injurious to health". It can kill, rather than heal. This zesty recipe is not for the weak-hearted. Only the bravehearts read on...
Cut one big bitter gourd and one equal-sized potato into two-inch long, slender pieces. Heat two tablespoons of mustard oil and gently release the five-spice blend, the uniquely Bengali "panch-phoron" (all Bangladeshi stores in town carry it) along with 2 dried whole red chillies. Before these have spluttered all over, make sure you add the potato pieces. Stir occasionally on medium flame. Add half a spoon of turmeric powder. Add vegetable oil, if needed.
When the potato looks half done, add the karela pieces, continue to stir from time to time. Add salt only when some of the moisture has evaporated. Add more oil, whenever needed!
My husband loves it very hot, 'chilliwise', if I am allowed to coin such a term, so he chops in a couple of green chillies at this point!!
When the stir-fry looks quite glossy , you may need to add a few spoons of water and let it cook till it is well done. Make sure all the water evaporates completely and the item takes on a lumpy texture.
Finally, he adds a bit of aamtel (another traditional and unique bengali pickling of the green mangoes in mustard oil and ground five-spice blend). Since it is not readily available even in Bengali households these days, a large pinch of aamchur (green mango powder, available in all Indian stores) can be added in its place.
Serve hot with equally hot parboiled rice. Ideally, with a scoop of this spicy delight, you can devour a bowl of rice in no time. You may have to stop to fan your tongue with your bare hands, entire arms or even with the newspaper quite often. Jumping up and down, arms flailing, tongue sticking out, eyes popping usually helps too! You might resemble the fire-spewing dragon and your ears are likely to contribute in the blazing activity. 911 has lost its reputation in putting out such fires. My husband, who, like all children, hated the karela/korola takes pride in the fact that his recipe atleast is anything but bitter. Enjoy!
Hi Balaka,
Thanks so much for your comments about the blog. Glad you are enjoying it. Thanks also for that very interesting and intrepid bitter gourd recipe! I'll have to try it sometime, probably with less chilies! Your husband seems to be an excellent cook and serious food-lover!
For readers who wish to create their own spice mix of panchforan, the famous Bengali seasoning, it is made of jeera (cumin seeds) saunf (fennel seeds) sarson(mustard seeds) methi(fenugreek seeds) mangraila or kalonji(onion seeds). I put equal amounts of each. Some people put more jeera, sarson and saunf and slightly less methi & kalonji. It's strong, so use sparingly.
Gotta try Balaka's husband's fire breathing dragon karela recipe. it would be fun to see the sight of tongues sticking out, arms flailing and teary popping out eyes. No, on the other hand, I can't be that cruel to my friends. So, like Chitra I'll have to tone it down. May be add a little sugar or Lime juice. I don't know, but I have loved Ucche and Kareli bhaji for as long as I can remember. I also liked Teto (Bitter) Mung dal. The ucche or karela is prepared much the same way as Chitra has outlined, minus sugar and added to the prepared Katcha Mung dal and gently simmered at the end. I would guess that most of your readers, Chitra, know how to cook Katcha Mung dal but those who would want to try it for the first time, here's a recipe:
Half a cup of thorougly washed Mung dal
One tomato, chopped fine
two dry cayenne pepper
one inch of fresh ginger,sliced and chopped fine
half a tea-spoon of tumeric
a pinch of onion seed
a pinch of fennel seed
two table spoon of fresh grated coconut
Boil the mung dal with enough water to cover the dal and add to it as the water evaporates below the dal level. This way the dal gets softer in less time. Stir the softened dal to make it into a soupy mush, lower heat to simmer. In a separate pan add a table spoon of olive oil, heat and fry the red chillies to reddish brown, add the fennel and onion seed to sputter, add tomatoes and fry for about two minutes, add tumeric and ginger and coconut, and stir for a minute or two. Add to the Mung dal, stir and add a cup and a half of water. Add salt to taste. Optionally add a teaspoon of ghee for better taste. (Here is where you add the fried crisp ucche or karela). Simmer for ten more minutes and serve hot with rice as one of the starting dishes.
Ashoke-da, Great to hear from an accomplished and talented cook like you! Your mung dal and bitter gourd recipe looks great. Thanks for sharing. I'm going to try it. I remember my aunt cooking a similar dish in my childhood when I would visit in the summer. She had a vegetable garden with a little trellis, and the bitter gourd would hang from the trellis. She would ask us children to go and pick them fresh for her. How many of our memories are associated with food!
Not a great fan of uchche though we cook it almost every week at home. My little daughters love uchche bhaja.
The tetor dal with uchche and lau is probably something I like most
http://www.bongcookbook.com/2007/02/ma-er-tetor-dal-dal-with-bitter-gourd.html
I also tried a uchche with posto which adds a new dimension to the same old veggie
http://www.bongcookbook.com/2008/04/uchche-posto-jhuri-or-bitter-gourd-and.html
My youngest daughter's Bangladeshi baysitter cooks fish with long strips of uchche in a jhol. This is something we have never had in West Bengal
Love this share and absolutely loved Karela, even when I was a child. Strange, no?
I love making stuffed karela with curried organic sweet corn. It tastes like shrimp when all the spices hit. Then I stuff the curried corn into the steamed Karela that has been slit lengthwise and scooped out. Tie it up with some strong thread and sautee in oil until the skin is golden brown.
Serve over basmati rice and dhal for a delicious lunch or dinner.
Perfect for diabetics or anyone looking to keep their blood sugar in check.
Enjoy!
Thanks, Sandeepa! I'm going to look up all those uchche (bitter gourd) recipes on your site. You have several great recipes there. It's nice to find authentic regional Indian recipes, since in the Indian restaurants we mostly get generic Indian dishes. Uchche with lentils & lau (squash) is delicious--my mother used to make it. I think I will try it next week!
Anandi, Thanks for the comment. My husband has been asking for stuffed karela, so I think I will try this one. Do you slit the karela first & then steam it, or the other way around?
I always hated them as a child. I have tried them as an adult and still cannot acquire a taste for them. Luckily, our parents never forced us to eat them because we ate just about every other vegetables.
Reminds me that I should write up the whole recipe! One of those things I adapted from mom and just made for my nani and nana in Toronto.
I slit the karela lengthwise, scoop out the insides and then steam those until they're a vibrant green and just a bit tender.
Nana's diabetic so he went to town on these badboys.
Ok...this is one childhood aversion I am yet to overcome! But the thing I used to hate the most back then and today love, is fish. I was one of those atypical mach-mishti hating Bengalis!!! Mishti I still eat with some reservations but fish....yummm!!! I guess this happened to a large part when I relocated to Japan after my marriage and fell in love with sushi of all things!!! My mother even after almost 7 years of living in Japan, still asks me with great wonder "How can you of all people, eat and more importantly like eating RAW fish???" :) But my 4 yr old daughter quite unlike me, is extremely fond of mach, mishti and yes...ucche too!
So, the childhood staples I most happily recreate in my kitchen these days are various fishy dishes like doi mach, Ilish bhapa, and that quintessential summer favourite "maccher Jhol"!!!
ish! Teto korola. Still remember childhood battles with my mother about eating korola. Now that I am a graduate student in a university town with no access to indian vegetables, korola bhaja/sheddo is a precious and nostalgic recipe!
Funny read...I still find kerala too bitter for me, although I have to admit when my mom cooks it, it looks and smells appetizing, and when she bites into it, it seems as she is enjoying something so fabulous! I am working on my mom's stuffed kerala recipe for my next book..hope you like it! :-)
Thanks for writing in, Shubhra. I'll have to check out your wonderful cookbook, Entice with Spice.
Aditi--So interesting, how many of us grew up with similar experiences. I remember the steamed bitter gourd you mention! I'm sure this sharp memory of/nostalgia for childhood dishes is a part of the lives of immigrants from other countries, too.