I feel at home in Asian and Latin markets. I pluck both familiar and unfamiliar ingredients from the grocery shelves, head home and handily cobble together something wholly satisfying from the exotic melange. That doesn’t happen when I walk into an Indian market.
I visit the Indian market when I am searching for ingredients specific to a recipe I’ve found. Only then will I ask for help. Since I am mostly a “from scratch” cooker, strolling in without a list means I’ll wander the aisles, breathing in the deep smell of toasty and warm spices; staring with curiosity and bewilderment at the extensive colorful display of jars, boxes and bags of prepared pickles, dals, rice, chutneys, raw spices and spice blends, cooking sauces, and fresh and frozen produce. I often leave in a state of sensorial overload.
The best way to conquer the unknown is to attack it head on, so with this tactic in mind, I entered the very approachable Lakshmi Plaza in Mayfield Heights (Lakshmi Plaza / 5888 Mayfield Road / Cleveland, OH 44124 / 440-460-4601). Walking up to the register, I introduced myself to the elegant woman with the sunny and welcoming smile. Valli (stress on the second syllable) is one of the principal owners of the medium sized store, which carries Indian foods and cooking supplies, with a focus on items produced in Hyderabad, the southern Indian city from where she hails. I asked Valli to assume I had never been in an Indian market, and whether she'd mind guiding me through shopping and preparing one beginner dish particular to Hyderabad. Luckily, I was the only one shopping and Valli loves to cook and share, so she was delighted to describe one of her home specialties with me.
We combed the aisles together, culling ingredients necessary to prepare a sassy and addictive sour Hyderabadian version of sambar. Sambar (or sambhar), is a vegetarian soup or gravy-like mixture using the golden split pigeon pea, toor dal, as its base. The vegetables can be varied, as well as the seasonings, which changes by region and household. Most surprising was the omission of garlic and ginger in the dish, which I naively thought to be included in all Indian dishes. The cuisine of Hyderabad features many pungent and tart flavors with spices used for good health and to aid in digestion.
Some of the less familiar ingredients:
- Asafoetida, or “Hing”: A pulverized dried rhizome possessing a distinctively pungent aroma, reminiscent of allium; curiously referred to as both “devil’s dung” and “food of the gods.”
- Fenugreek seed: Amber, nubby seeds that impart a desirable bitterness to curries and spice blends.
- Black mustard seed: Less familiar than the larger yellow mustard seed. I love the pop and crunch these add to a dish.
- Tamarind paste: Puckery-sour with a fruity sweetness; dark and molasses-like in texture.
- Drumsticks: A long, green pod from the moringa tree. The flavor is reminiscent of canned asparagus, and it is very woody and fibrous. Maybe more tasty as fresh-not-frozen. One of the beauties of a sambar is that you may customize the vegetables to your liking. Next time, the drumsticks will not be making an appearance in my bowl.
- Sambar powder: A pre-made spice and herb blend to enhance your sambar. If inspired, you can custom blend your own.
Valli’s cooking instructions begin with cooking the toor dal in a pressure cooker. Aluminum and stainless pressure cookers are available at Lakshmi Plaza for reasonable prices, however I do not own one and was not convinced the purchase was warranted. I’ve made it thus far without one and, more important, I like to see food cook, especially when preparing a new dish. The pressure cooker is sealed, and the 10 minutes of cooking time in the cooker versus the 30-40 minutes without didn't bother me. I wanted to watch the toor dal during the cooking process, discovering how much water the peas took in, when to add more water and when to stop cooking, so I could leave the dal with some integrity and not reduce to a mush (which can also be a desirable texture). Simply, preparation without the pressure cooker allowed me to establish greater involvement with the ingredients and cooking method.
This sambar is intensely bright and packs a wallop of heat. It was just the kind of recipe I was hoping for – one to crank up the internal furnace during another typically frigid Cleveland winter. To offset the burn, sambar is served with basmati rice, idli or dosa, an Indian pickle; and/or a chutney. Valli steered me towards a package of frozen idli, which were easily heated in the microwave. The fluffy white pillows are made from a savory batter of fermented lentils and rice. With their slight tang, idli proved to be an ideal counterpoint to Valli’s sambar. Next time I visit the store, Valli’s teaching me how to make idli from scratch. Continued on page two...
