Sometimes all it takes is a comforting bowl of porridge to help kickstart one’s journey down memory lane
By Raul Dias
It was a particularly ferocious winter morning exactly 54 years ago, when the nuns of St. Angela Sophia boarding school, Jaipur had finally reached their wits end. The object of their collective exasperation—a preternaturally rebellious 12-year-old girl—was at it again. This time it was her vehement refusal to touch her morning breakfast bowl of salted oatmeal porridge that had landed her in trouble. Again.
Muttering under her breath that it smelled like old socks, the girl was ‘banished’ to the kindergarten section of the school. Her punishment; to hold the bowl of porridge high above her head with both hands while kneeling down in front of a phalanx of giggling toddlers. She was to continue doing so till she had made up her mind to give the porridge a go. She never did. And she hasn’t to this very day. That defiant little terror was my mother.
Goldilocks, anyone?
Despite the rather Dickensian tales of Mum’s boarding school days and more pertinently, her utter revulsion towards porridge of any kind, I simply love the gooey, unctuous stuff. And I have our dear old Mangalorean cook Mary to thank for that.
Having formerly been cooking for an expatriate British family for years before she came into our family’s employ, Mary had amassed an astounding cache of porridge recipes—both Indian and International—that were by now a firm fixture on our quotidien breakfast menu.
One of her greatest hits was the delicious-tasting Goan vonn that’s very similar to the divine Tamil sakkarai pongal. Also known as soji in South Goa, this rather complex porridge is made with a host of ingredients, chief of which is chana dal (split Bengal gram), bits of which are cleverly left whole in the preparation for texture. The porridge is further enhanced by the addition of thick coconut milk and palm jaggery. The latter lending to the dish an earthy, warm flavour that almost tastes like what petrichor would, perhaps.
Now, long before the story of fussy Goldilocks and her trio of porridge-loving bears became a favourite of ours, my older sister and I played out our own version almost daily. Some days we were particularly partial towards Mary’s iteration of a simple milk-enriched, warm rava porridge, where toothsome grains of semolina competed with slivers of toasted almonds.
On others, which were more often than not, we relished the gloopy consistency of her steel-cut oatmeal porridge sliding down our throats. One that she’d top up with cold milk and a splodge of treacle to sweeten the deal. It would be decades later, on a work trip to Belfast, when I would discover the Irish way of truly ‘enjoying’ a bowl of oatmeal porridge…with a splash of peaty Irish whiskey added to it for a smoky finish!
Savouring the Savoury
However, it is not just the sweetened varieties of porridge that have managed to rouse me out of bed every day over the years. I am equally fond of the savoury porridge. To be more specific, I love the wholesome goodness of porridges like ragi ambali. Though mostly consumed as a thick drink in Karnataka, I like to enjoy the light pink-hued concoction as a porridge. This is achieved by adding a little more than usual amount of sprouted ragi (finger millet) flour to the water-buttermilk slurry to which a bit of salt has been added. But it is the final tempering with curry leaves, mustard seeds and chilli that makes the scrumptious ragi ambali a must-have for me.
On the absolute opposite end of the spice spectrum of savoury porridges is another Goan porridge called pez. Simply put, pez is just another name for a bland gruel made with rice and water and one that is known multifariously as kanjee or kunji in regions south of the Vindhyas. We Goans like to have our pez either with a bit of dried, salted mackerel pickle called parra or served with a side of tora shiro mango water pickle.
The Travelling Bowl
Whenever I find myself travelling to East Asia, I am quite surprised when I’m offered a breakfast porridge of the Chinese iteration of good old kanjee that they call, funnily enough, congee. Only here, one is presented with a virtual smorgasbord of condiments and toppings like fried shallots and garlic, cubes of sweet lap cheong pork sausage, chopped spring onions, salted duck eggs and the ubiquitous soy sauce to enhance the flavour of the simple rice gruel.
It really is testament to the prowess of porridge that we now have several porridge-only cafés and restaurants scattered across the world from places as diverse as Edinburg and Copenhagen severing the breakfast dish in the most interesting and dare-I-say, often contrived combinations. A recent trip to New York City saw me tuck into a bowl of cold oat and almond meal porridge topped with rice milk and a sprinkling of raw Colombian cocoa nibs and bee pollen at the world’s first all-oatmeal café simply called OatMeals.
At London’s 26 Grains porridge café, I tried a warm quinoa porridge accentuated with a tart burst of the antioxidant-rich acai berry purée that I was told was foraged from the Brazilian Amazon forests. Every spoonful of the exotic bowl was like discovering the joys of porridge all over again.
Now, if I could only convince Mum to do so too!
SUNDAY RECIPE
Vonn
INGREDIENTS:
Chana dal ¼ cup
Water 3 cups
Salt ½ tsp
Rice flour ¼ cup
Palm jaggery (chopped into bits) ¾ cup
Coconut milk 1 ½ cup
Cardamom powder 1 tsp
Chopped cashew nuts ¼ cup
METHOD:
1. Pre-soak the chana dal in water for at least two hours before using.
2. Boil the pre-soaked chana dal with the 3 cups of water and salt for around 15 minutes on a medium-high flame till the dal is cooked, but not mushy.
3. Make a thick paste of the rice flour by adding a little water to it.
4. Add the chopped palm jaggery to the chana dal mixture and stir till fully melted and incorporated.
5. Add the coconut milk and bring to a slow boil, making sure that the milk does not split.
6. Lower the flame to its lowest level and add in the rice flour paste, stirring to ensure that no lumps are formed.
7. Once thickened, sprinkle in the cardamom powder and chopped bits of cashew nuts.
8. Serve either warm, room temperature or chilled!
(An edited version of this article first appeared in the 15th December 2019 issue of The Hindu newspaper's Sunday Magazine section on page 12 https://www.thehindu.com/life-and-style/food/some-like-it-hot-some-like-it-with-bee-pollen/article30297570.ece)
By Raul Dias
It was a particularly ferocious winter morning exactly 54 years ago, when the nuns of St. Angela Sophia boarding school, Jaipur had finally reached their wits end. The object of their collective exasperation—a preternaturally rebellious 12-year-old girl—was at it again. This time it was her vehement refusal to touch her morning breakfast bowl of salted oatmeal porridge that had landed her in trouble. Again.
Muttering under her breath that it smelled like old socks, the girl was ‘banished’ to the kindergarten section of the school. Her punishment; to hold the bowl of porridge high above her head with both hands while kneeling down in front of a phalanx of giggling toddlers. She was to continue doing so till she had made up her mind to give the porridge a go. She never did. And she hasn’t to this very day. That defiant little terror was my mother.
Goldilocks, anyone?
Despite the rather Dickensian tales of Mum’s boarding school days and more pertinently, her utter revulsion towards porridge of any kind, I simply love the gooey, unctuous stuff. And I have our dear old Mangalorean cook Mary to thank for that.
Having formerly been cooking for an expatriate British family for years before she came into our family’s employ, Mary had amassed an astounding cache of porridge recipes—both Indian and International—that were by now a firm fixture on our quotidien breakfast menu.
One of her greatest hits was the delicious-tasting Goan vonn that’s very similar to the divine Tamil sakkarai pongal. Also known as soji in South Goa, this rather complex porridge is made with a host of ingredients, chief of which is chana dal (split Bengal gram), bits of which are cleverly left whole in the preparation for texture. The porridge is further enhanced by the addition of thick coconut milk and palm jaggery. The latter lending to the dish an earthy, warm flavour that almost tastes like what petrichor would, perhaps.
Now, long before the story of fussy Goldilocks and her trio of porridge-loving bears became a favourite of ours, my older sister and I played out our own version almost daily. Some days we were particularly partial towards Mary’s iteration of a simple milk-enriched, warm rava porridge, where toothsome grains of semolina competed with slivers of toasted almonds.
On others, which were more often than not, we relished the gloopy consistency of her steel-cut oatmeal porridge sliding down our throats. One that she’d top up with cold milk and a splodge of treacle to sweeten the deal. It would be decades later, on a work trip to Belfast, when I would discover the Irish way of truly ‘enjoying’ a bowl of oatmeal porridge…with a splash of peaty Irish whiskey added to it for a smoky finish!
Savouring the Savoury
However, it is not just the sweetened varieties of porridge that have managed to rouse me out of bed every day over the years. I am equally fond of the savoury porridge. To be more specific, I love the wholesome goodness of porridges like ragi ambali. Though mostly consumed as a thick drink in Karnataka, I like to enjoy the light pink-hued concoction as a porridge. This is achieved by adding a little more than usual amount of sprouted ragi (finger millet) flour to the water-buttermilk slurry to which a bit of salt has been added. But it is the final tempering with curry leaves, mustard seeds and chilli that makes the scrumptious ragi ambali a must-have for me.
On the absolute opposite end of the spice spectrum of savoury porridges is another Goan porridge called pez. Simply put, pez is just another name for a bland gruel made with rice and water and one that is known multifariously as kanjee or kunji in regions south of the Vindhyas. We Goans like to have our pez either with a bit of dried, salted mackerel pickle called parra or served with a side of tora shiro mango water pickle.
The Travelling Bowl
Whenever I find myself travelling to East Asia, I am quite surprised when I’m offered a breakfast porridge of the Chinese iteration of good old kanjee that they call, funnily enough, congee. Only here, one is presented with a virtual smorgasbord of condiments and toppings like fried shallots and garlic, cubes of sweet lap cheong pork sausage, chopped spring onions, salted duck eggs and the ubiquitous soy sauce to enhance the flavour of the simple rice gruel.
It really is testament to the prowess of porridge that we now have several porridge-only cafés and restaurants scattered across the world from places as diverse as Edinburg and Copenhagen severing the breakfast dish in the most interesting and dare-I-say, often contrived combinations. A recent trip to New York City saw me tuck into a bowl of cold oat and almond meal porridge topped with rice milk and a sprinkling of raw Colombian cocoa nibs and bee pollen at the world’s first all-oatmeal café simply called OatMeals.
At London’s 26 Grains porridge café, I tried a warm quinoa porridge accentuated with a tart burst of the antioxidant-rich acai berry purée that I was told was foraged from the Brazilian Amazon forests. Every spoonful of the exotic bowl was like discovering the joys of porridge all over again.
Now, if I could only convince Mum to do so too!
SUNDAY RECIPE
Vonn
INGREDIENTS:
Chana dal ¼ cup
Water 3 cups
Salt ½ tsp
Rice flour ¼ cup
Palm jaggery (chopped into bits) ¾ cup
Coconut milk 1 ½ cup
Cardamom powder 1 tsp
Chopped cashew nuts ¼ cup
METHOD:
1. Pre-soak the chana dal in water for at least two hours before using.
2. Boil the pre-soaked chana dal with the 3 cups of water and salt for around 15 minutes on a medium-high flame till the dal is cooked, but not mushy.
3. Make a thick paste of the rice flour by adding a little water to it.
4. Add the chopped palm jaggery to the chana dal mixture and stir till fully melted and incorporated.
5. Add the coconut milk and bring to a slow boil, making sure that the milk does not split.
6. Lower the flame to its lowest level and add in the rice flour paste, stirring to ensure that no lumps are formed.
7. Once thickened, sprinkle in the cardamom powder and chopped bits of cashew nuts.
8. Serve either warm, room temperature or chilled!
(An edited version of this article first appeared in the 15th December 2019 issue of The Hindu newspaper's Sunday Magazine section on page 12 https://www.thehindu.com/life-and-style/food/some-like-it-hot-some-like-it-with-bee-pollen/article30297570.ece)
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