Crisp Curried Kovakkai (Tindora or Ivy Gourd)

The summer after my dad, an Air Force pilot, received the Vir Chakra (bravery award), my grandfather insisted we visit him so he could show his son's medals off to his cohorts in the village where he had retired. My grandpa was very proud of his progeny and, to our great embarrassment, was not modest about it. :) He would flaunt us to all and sundry. He was especially proud of his grandkids: he would line us up like the kids in "Sound of Music" and we would all stand there in teen akwardness, squirming, as he embellished our achievements to his friends.

We traveled for over 2 days by rail and car to reach the arid little village deep down south. It was sweltering hot and dusty. The only water source in the village was the Kaveri river, which flowed in fits and starts depending on the rain fall. The house where my grandfather lived did not even have a ceiling fan. It was a typical village house, with its "thinnai" (concrete bench in front) where the old, toothless, pan-chewing, retired cronies of my grandfather would gather to gossip every evening. The only amusement that my sisters and I had during that visit was the large swing that graced the living room. Each of us raided my grandfather's huge library of old books and would drape ourselves on the swing, lazily reading all day long. We weren't allowed to go the river on our own, and we had no friends there, so we spent each day reading, or bickering with each other, if we got too bored.

My grandfather had a cook who prepared the meals so we did not even have the distraction of helping in kitchen to keep us occupied. The cook made standard fare for each meal: rice, sambar, and vegetables. Even the vegetables that were available in that little village that summer were standard fare: potatoes, tomatoes, green chilis and "kovakkai" (also called "Tindora" or "Ivy Gourd"). Only these vegetables could withstand the extremely hot climate and survive with very little watering. So, it was Kovakkai for lunch nearly every day.

If we complained about the lack of variety, my grandpa would regale us with long, imaginative stories which always ended with a moral. In this case, the moral of the story was the health benefits of this hardy vegetable. According to grandpa, the Kovakkai was a fountain of nutrients and a great vegetable for lowering blood sugar levels for persons with mild diabetes. Not all grandpa's nutritional information turned out right, but Diabeteshealth.com, has validated his theory about Ivy Gourd. :) Ivy Gourd is a good source of beta-carotene, protein and fiber. Studies show that while it has the capacity to reduce blood sugar levels if consumed regularly, it has no adverse side-effects.

And so it is - my memories of that summer are filled with the aroma of curried Kovakkai, the sight of half-naked urchins splashing in the flowing Kaveri river, the thrill of rooting through dusty old books and the teen bashfulness of being dragged out to be presented to grandpa's old cronies and sundry villagers!

In grandpa's honor, here is the recipe for Curried Kovakkai. Very easy-to-make and an unfailing favorite.

Here is what you need:
2 lb Kovakkai (Tindora or Ivy Gourd) (buy them fresh, green and tender)
1/2 tsp black mustard seeds
1 tsp salt
1 tsp turmeric powder
1 tsp red chili powder
3 tbsp olive oil

Here is how you make this:
Wash the kovakkai thoroughly. Slice into thin slices as shown in the picture. When you slice them, they should be green inside. If any of the Kovakkai's have ripened and is red inside, set it aside - it wont taste good in the curry.

Heat oil in a pan. When the oil is hot, add the mustard seeds. Wait for them to crackle and add the sliced Kovakkai. Sprinkle salt, chili powder and turmeric powder. Lower the heat and roast on a slow flame, nearly for half hour or more until cooked crisp. Turn regularly.

Serve hot with rice and rasam or rice and unsweetened yogurt.

Cliantro Green chutney

Growing up in India meant growing up eating Indian food. And eating Indian food meant nearly every dish was garnished with chopped cilantro leaves.

I have lived in many cities and towns in India. The most ubiquitous factor in an Indian family's life is their "sabziwallah" and "keerai-kari".

"Sabziwallah" simply means "vegetable man". He would arrive early every morning, pushing his cart laden with all kinds of local and seasonal vegetables. There would be potatoes, onions, tomatoes, green beans, a few different kinds of pumpkins and gourds, brinjal (eggplant), carrots, ladies finger (okra!) amongst whatever else he could source that morning. None of the vegetables were refrigerated, so he needed to offload his wares that same day in order to minimize any losses. Invariably, he had a route and many different housewives with whom he had a symbiotic relationship. They needed him and he needed them. The women of the household looked forward to his visit everyday. It was a time to meet and chat with neighbors, take a break from the rush of sending the husband and kids off to work and school and from packing tiffin boxes (lunch boxes) for everyone. It was a time to take in the glorious sunshine and pore over the produce. Each housewife would buy her vegetables for the day and in the end, the sabziwallah would throw in his special free of charge - a small handful of green chilis and a few sprigs of cilantro.

And that cilantro would get washed, chopped and grace nearly every dish as a garnish.

But if the housewife ever wanted to make a cilantro chutney, she'd need to go to another source to buy a bunch of cilantro - the "keerai-kari" or the "green woman". This was invariably an old woman who would come laden with a huge basket on her head, filled with all kinds of greens. She would have different types of spinach, all kinds of greens and bunches of cilantro. She would stand outside the door and yell, "Amma (madam), I've brought greens". And the housewife would have another break from her household chores. She would go out and help the old woman bring down the basket from her head, haggle over the price of the greens, pay her, help her load her heavy basket back on her head and be on her merry way.

So, for as long as I can remember, cilantro was a staple in my diet - either as a garnish or as a chutney. It is only now that I checked the nutritional value of cilantro. According to the health diaries site, it has phenomenal health benefits - most notable amongst them is the ability to work as a natural chelation agent by leaching out heavy metals like mercury from the body. In addition, it is reportedly good for reducing bad cholesterol (LDL), increasing good cholesterol (HDL) and lowering blood sugar. It is also a good source of magnesium, iron, dietary fiber, phytonutrients and flavonoids.

And, oh, did I mention - it tastes simply fantastic.

What more reason do you need to try out this fabulous Cilantro Green chutney? Here's one more - it is ZERO fat. No fat! Nada!

Here's the section where I give credit: the Cilantro Green Chutney is my dear mother-in-law, Usha's recipe. And this is my father-in-law's most favorite accompaniment for every dish.

I have used this chutney in the Fusion Egg Sandwich recipe and had promised to give you the recipe.

Here it is. Buy a bunch of fresh green cilantro, make this chutney and store in the fridge for upto a week. Super quick and easy to make!







Here is what you need:
3 small bunches fresh cilantro leaves (wash thoroughly under running water)
1" piece fresh ginger (wash)
2 garlic pods (peeled and washed)
4 green chilis (reduce per taste)
1 tsp salt
Dash of lemon juice



Here is how you make this:
Place everything except lemon juice in a blender. Add enough water to allow the blender to work smoothly. Blend. Add lemon juice. Serve. Enjoy!