(Green) Coriander?

Yes, green coriander, and I'm not talking about cilantro, the first stage of the Coriandrum sativum plant. Cilantro is quite common and pops up in a variety of cuisines, in the fresh bunch of herbs accompanying Vietnamese dishes, chopped into a stellar guacamole, as garnish for a salad and so on. Coriander, which is less commonly known, is the later stage of the same plant, after the leafy cilantro turns yellow and the plant develops seeds.

Since D. planted coriander in the garden I was able to follow the entire life cycle of the plant, which meant for me...the discovery of green coriander. You can't find fresh coriander seeds in the market, due to the short lifespan of the fresh seeds so it was a novel experience for me. Even on the plant, the seeds quickly dry into a nutty, brown striped seed that is typically ground into powder.

After checking online to make sure that the green seeds are not poisonous (doubtful, but D. wanted to be sure), I popped one between my molars and it erupted in a bright, tangy spray of flavor. It was a shocking discovery, combining the freshness of cilantro and the mellow toasty warmth of dry coriander. I'm absolutely hooked. We played around with different uses for this new secret ingredient, my favorite was lightly grinding it in a mortar and pestle with oil-packed anchovies and mixing it with olive oil as a savory dip for bread. The saltiness of the fish was balanced by the sharpness of the seeds' green flavor. We also pickled a cucumber with whole garlic and some blanched green beans from the garden in a spice combination of dill flowers, green coriander seeds, salt, sugar, and vinegar. It makes a great side to a sandwich. (Or for snacking on before making the sandwich when I'm starving).

I started writing this post a week ago and was distracted from finishing. In that time, the green coriander has pretty much disappeared. D. has tied up a large bunch of the seeds to dry under the back porch and the seeds are drying out nicely.

Indian Beans: Returning to the Kitchen (& Recipe)

The wonderful thing about coming home after being away for a stretch is that you realize the former thread of your "home" life has persisted in very much the same manner as ever before. Things around you are the same, your knife, the shadows in the kitchen, the hum of the water heater; same and yet different. (Different as in the nonstick saute pan that was mistreated as a cutting board!!) One thing remains wholly unchanged, I have been back in the kitchen daily since returning.

One of my first market trips upon returning home was to an unexplored gem recommended to me by a friend who had recently discovered its bounty. Monterey Market sits on a corner of Hopkins and Monterey in North Berkeley. The small market reminisces of what Berkeley Bowl on the south side of town might have been a few decades back; quaint, pleasantly quiet, a gentler pace of life. Both markets stock an impressive display of fresh fruits and veggies in varieties unheard of, as well as a fair selection of dry goods. Their philosophy of creating a community oriented exchange between local farmers and consumers felt unpretentious and really followed through for me at Monterey Market. The prices are also hard to beat - $1.79 per pound for Ranier and Bing Cherries!



BEANS BEANS!
Towards the end of the excursion I happened across some beautifully toasty looking dried beans in a sack labeled "Indian Beans." A pound or so of these rattled home with me as my companion and I plotted the best uses for them. Unsurprisingly (yet also unappetizing to hear) most of the beans you buy from the store, the pre-bagged mundane pinto, black, and kidney varieties, are ten years old or more on average. It seems though they've truly squatted out their existence without expiration on the shelf. It became clear to me with my deeply tanned beauties in hand that a host of other exquisite and intriguing choices eagerly await discovery.

From our one pound purchase we have so far produced:
- a version of rice and daal (lentils) with Indian spices, saffron rice, and fried scallions
- slow-cooked bbq beans with smoked pork shoulder, onions, and a sweet vinegar base
- 15 bean plants (an impatient peek under the soil revealed that 6 have sprouted)
A little goes a long way. About a third of the beans await a future use.



FOR THE GREEN THUMBS OUT THERE
Growing a few bean plants really could not be an easier, more rewarding feat (Discounting your future struggle with the deer who also love your bean plants). Simply bury the dry beans under an inch or so of moist soil in a pot and wait a few weeks for the seeds to sprout through the dirt. After your saplings have grown to 4-6 inches, transplant them to the ground along a fence or some stakes to allow the vines to crawl up. (Mid-late spring to early summer)



THE RECIPE
Spiced Rice & Indian Beans
(2 servings with leftovers)
Rice:
- 1C Basmati or Jasmine long grained rice, rinsed
- 1 1/4C water or broth
- 1 tsp olive oil
- few saffron threads
- bay leaf
- salt
- 1/4 tsp turmeric
- few shakes of cayenne
- few shakes of smoked paprika
*spice amounts are very flexible according to your preferences, experiment - add, subtract, omit, create

Fried Scallions:
- 1 scallion chopped into ringlets
- flour for dusting
- canola oil, for frying (reserve the oil)
- salt

Beans:
- 1/3 lb dried beans, pre-soaked overnight or at least a few hours
- olive oil
- 1/4 onion, med-fine chop
- garlic powder
- scallion oil (from fried scallions above)
- salt

1) Add all rice ingredients to a rice cooker, stir and cook according to machine directions; fluff with a fork afterwards
- OR add all ingredients to a pot and cover, bring to a boil and reduce to a simmer for 15-25 min until rice is tender
- salt to taste
2) Using a sieve, coat scallion rings with flour
- heat up oil about 1/8" deep in a small pan (test with a piece of scallion, if it begins to sizzle and bubble the oil is hot enough
- fry scallions in the oil until golden
- strain out scallions and drain on paper towels, lightly salt immediately
- reserve scallion oil for the beans
3) Drain the beans
- heat up olive oil in a saute pan
- add onions, saute until translucent but still slightly crunchy ~ 5 min
- season with garlic powder, salt, and a small amount of scallion oil (~1/2 tsp)
- mix in the beans and then spread into a single flat layer over the pan
- without stirring, allow the beans and onions to caramelize and develop crusty brown edges ~ 5-7min
- stir gently and redistribute in a single layer to allow the other sides to caramelize
4) Remove from heat
- gently mix in the rice
- top with fried scallions

* I paired this dish with Indian-spiced roasted game hen - rub a whole bird with a ground spice mix of cardamom, garam masala, coriander, sea salt, cumin seed, cayenne, a touch of cinnamon. Cover with plain yogurt (~ 1.5 C) and marinate for 30 min to an hour. Roast in a 450F preheated oven for 45-50 min, turning halfway.

Making "Spicy Tea": Reunion, Masala Chai, & Recipe (INDIA - part 1 of 2)

Rama, our rickshaw driver, approached the tea vendor cheerfully, pulling out a packet of Masala spice powder he had bought seconds ago from the grocery mart across the street. We had been on the lookout for Masala chai since morning and throughout the early afternoon. "If we cannot find spicy chai, we will MAKE it!" was Rama's undeterred response. Nothing is impossible for this slight, elderly man, contrastingly impish in spirit, yet utterly venerated by all rickshaw drivers in the city. After a few pleasantries with the "chai wallah" in the local Tamil language, a separate pot of chai was spiked with the fragrant, coarse-grey powder, specially prepared for our group of four. A few minutes later we were concentrating on sipping the scorching spicy liquid, each of us brimming with peaceful contentment.



Masala chai is an Indian beverage of strong black tea, hot milk, a mixture of spices, and of course a healthy dose of sweetness. The term "masala" refers to any combination of spices, usually used in curries, teas, or dessert, and "chai" is the generic term for tea. Masala chai was birthed out of traditional Indian Ayurvedic medicine as an herbal remedy for wellness. Ayurvedic medicine discusses health as the flow of fluids throughout the body and the characteristic heat from the "warm" spices found in masala chai (ginger, cardamom, cinnamon, peppercorns etc.) are utilized to strengthen the body's internal flow. Today, masala chai continues to be popular in the North but is less common in Southern regions.

Although the summer season was just upon us, and the feverish air plastered sweat to our neck and faces, the Indians seemed to enjoy adding more heat to their bodies in the form of boiling beverages (chai and filter coffee drunk throughout the day) and piping curries fresh off the stove. Periodically, Rama would stop at another chai vendor to request our special order and revive the radiating heat of spice in our chests; each time refusing our rupees. At the end of a packed seven hours, we had been treated to three glasses of chai. In parting, Rama promised to bring back the masala powder for more chai the next afternoon.

RAMA
Two years ago, my sister met Rama on her similar voyage around the world. I recall receiving her excited email about meeting a remarkable man in India who continues to be one of the most interesting people she crossed paths with during her global journey. Before reaching India, I received another email from my sister urging me to contact Rama. Without too much agenda, I warily poked around a cluster of rickshaw drivers (rickshaws are mini, open taxi-buggies run by pushy operators notoriously for indirect routes and constantly changing fares) and asked if anyone knew of Rama. A wrinkled gentleman in a pale pink collared shirt stepped forward and announced "I'm Rama" as if having expected me to appear the entire time. I smiled in wonder at our reunion as I leafed through his sun-stained stack of letters from grateful travelers abroad, including two photos of my sister and a red christmas card in her handwriting.



In the dog-eat-dog world of tourist transportation, Rama's generous and relaxed attitude was a heartwarming anomaly to encounter. He even managed to make chaotic Indian traffic appear tame as we rolled through the sooty streets of Chennai at a leisurely pace. Within minutes of our meeting, Rama adopted my friends and I as his daughters, asking first for our permission before lighting his cigarette and protecting us from greedy salesmen at government-commissioned souvenir emporiums. Before sending us off at the end of the day, he left me with a spare cell phone, complete with a new sim card, to contact him tomorrow.

TEA VENDORS "Chai wallahs"
Franchises and multinationals aside, chai stalls are as common to India as Starbucks are to Manhattan. My first cup of tea in Chennai, however, actually came from a water (tea heater) strapped to the back of a bicycle. Noticing the hesitation in my step, the vendor ushered me forward and proffered a cup, barely a mouthful in a flimsy plastic container. The tea was hot and sweet and surprisingly potent for it's minimal quantity.

The tea found in more permanent stalls throughout the city is prepared in a ceremonious manner. Each cup is "performed" individually, starting with a few good spoonfuls of sugar. Milk, simmering gently in a large metal stockpot is scooped next into the glass cup, two-thirds full. The boiling liquid never manages to bubble over despite the constant exposure to heat. Finally, a linen filter bag packed with black tea leaves is gently bounced in a conical filter mid-air above the cup of milk, allowing the residual liquid of highly condensed tea to runoff and immediately stain the pure milk into a rusty tan. The contents of the cup are dumped into a handled, tin cup and swiftly pulled to a distance above the vendor's head in a thin fountain down to the awaiting glass below. The liquid is drawn back and forth several times until the boiling chai is sufficiently mixed and barely cooled. I managed to drink a lot of chai in India even before meeting Rama. Each time, I was offered a cup of either cheap plastic, hardly meriting the status of polymer, or a stunted paper dixie cup. To my amusement, in the last two days spent in Rama's company I was spared the disposable demitasses and instead offered oversized shot glasses received by locals.

Enjoy chai in any weather and at any time.


RECIPE
Here is my favorite recipe for Masala Chai taught to me by a friend a few years back.

Spicy (Masala) Chai
(serves 1 - multiply the recipe by the number of cups of tea desired)
- 1 mugful of cold water
- 1/2 inch fresh ginger, chopped
- 2-3 pods of green cardamom (available in spice section of most markets
- 1/2 stick cinnamon
- 1 inch piece of lemongrass, chopped (optional)
- 1 black teabag (such as Lipton) or 2-3 tsp loose leaf black tea (Ceylon)
- milk and sugar to taste
*Place all spice ingredients in a plastic ziplock bag; crush with a frying pan or hammer to break apart cardamom pods and release juices from ginger
*Dump into water and set over the stove. Add tea(bag) and bring to a boil, uncovered
*Once boiled, pour in milk and sugar to taste. Return to stove and bring to a second boil (do not let the milk foam over)
*Cover and set aside 10-12 minutes for flavors to strengthen before drinking (or enjoy immediately)