Filter Coffee: The best way to wake up!

Growing up in a tambram household in the seventies meant you woke to the sounds of MS Subbalakshmi singing the Venkatesha Suprabhartam and the smell of fresh filter coffee. I have always loved this ritual of coffee drinking and even today take my time to drink my first cup of coffee.

Filter coffee or kaapi as we southies call it, is the perfect cup of coffee. I rate it far above any coffee chain and with due apologies to coffee drinkers from popular coffee chains, I just don’t see the attraction for those, especially with the prices they charge. So what’s the difference between an espresso and filter coffee? I looked this up since I used to think an espresso is just the decoction of the filter coffee which is thinned slightly. An espresso, Italian for quick, is brewed with with high-temperature at almost boiling and has pressurised water running through finely ground coffee beans. It is also denser and more concentrated than filter coffee. The filter coffee is somewhat similar, it is made by filtering packed ground coffee through hot, boiling water through a filter, but instead of being pushed out by pressure, the water poured on the top half of the coffee filter runs down to the bottom purely on the basis of gravity. This means the brewing process takes much longer and is not really instant as the espresso is. It also means, you need much more water and coffee grounds to get the same amount of decoction for filter coffee.

I have never liked drinking milk and there are many stories in my home about how my paternal grandmother would force feed me milk, even as a toddler. Because of this intense distaste for milk, I must have made the switch to some sort of chocolate milk pretty early on. It was some protein powder in various flavours including chocolate that I drank for a few years. I switched to drinking coffee pretty early considering that most people I know didn’t start drinking tea or coffee until their teens.

My grandmother and then my mother used to buy raw coffee beans from the coffee board once every few months and then grind them till the house was full of this evocative aroma of coffee. Then using a small coffee blender they used to grind a small amount of the beans which would be just enough for a week or so. This ensured that the coffee we brewed was absolutely fresh. When I started college, it became my responsibility to get the raw coffee beans since there was a coffee board office not too far from my college. I still remember she would buy the Peaberry and Plantation beans. The Peaberry beans are also known as caracol, which is Spanish for snail, and is a naturally occurring mutation present in arabica and robusta coffee varieties where only one bean is present inside of the coffee cherry instead of two. The Plantation variety is probably a coffee plantation crop and I have no idea if it is a robusta or arabica.

A few years after I graduated and started working, the coffee board closed down its office from where we used to purchase our stock of raw coffee seeds and once my mother finished up her stash, she started buying blended coffee powder. Fortunately for us, we live very close to the heart of the tambram community, Matunga, where there is a store which sells freshly ground coffee powder, so that’s where she buys it from today. And when I make a trip to Mumbai, I never come back to Singapore without a few kilos of that freshly ground coffee powder in my luggage.

I have always been an early riser and used to wait for my mother to boil the milk and make coffee when I was young. Usually at that point, it would be just the two of us who were awake and in that dim lighting in the kitchen when the world is just waking up. Coupled that with a cup of hot steaming filter coffee in the traditional tumbler and dawara where the coffee is not stirred, but pulled is sheer bliss. When my mother makes coffee for BB, GG and S who usually drink in mugs, she will use a tumbler and dawara, which is a small cup which is used to pull the coffee and pull it to mix the milk, coffee and sugar together, with that lovely layer of froth on top and then pour it into a cup for them to drink. Even today my favourite time of the day is in the morning when I am the only one awake and it’s just me and a cup of coffee. Although now, I prefer my coffee to be black rather than with milk, it’s still a filter coffee which I brew every few days and refrigerate.

Another tradition in my home and I think most tambram households, is the ritual of a second cup of coffee after breakfast. Though I don’t follow it in Singapore, but when I am in Mumbai, that half glass of coffee after breakfast is something I really look forward to. And I drink my coffee with milk while in Mumbai because that to me is the taste of my childhood, adolescence and youth and it doesn’t matter how old I get, when I drink that cup, I am instantly transported back in memory.

Source

I can drink lots of coffee, but a few years back, decided to restrict it to twice a day and only indulging in the third cup if I am super tired or outside with friends. I wrote an ode to coffee some time back, so pop by there to read if you are a fan of coffee. As with all my memory posts, writing this brought a smile on my face while I was transported back in time, a time when life was uncomplicated and simpler, when our needs were simple and a cup of good filter coffee was all it took to welcome someone to your home! What’s your favourite coffee memory?

Memories: Growing up in an urban agraharam

I grew up in Mumbai, very close to what is the heart of the tambram community in the city, Matunga. Where we lived was a 15 minute walk to the heart of the community, to the market and the temples, to the flower shops and the vegetable vendors, some of whom though they came from the northern states of Bihar and Uttar Pradesh, but could banter with the mamas and manis in Tamil. Before COVID-19 stuck and life changed, my mother used to make the thrice weekly trip every week to Matunga to get her fix of all of the above.

The other day while I was thinking about this, I realised that I actually grew up in an urban agraharam. So what is an agraharam you may ask? An Agraharam or Agrahara was a grant of land and royal income from it, typically by a king or a noble family in India, for religious purposes, particularly to Brahmins to maintain temples in that land or a pilgrimage site and to sustain their families. Agraharams were also known as Chaturvedimangalams in ancient times as well as known as ghatoka, and boyas. Agraharams were built and maintained by dynasties such as the Cholas and Pallavas. The name originates from the fact that the agraharams have lines of houses on either side of the road and the temple to the village god at the centre, thus resembling a garland around the temple. According to the traditional Hindu practice of architecture and town-planning, an agraharam is held to be two rows of houses running north–south on either side of a road at one end of which would be a temple to Shiva and at the other end, a temple to Vishnu. An example is Vadiveeswaram in Tamil Nadu.

Where we grew up was a collection of about 50-60 two to three storey buildings set in a sort of square with roads intersecting them. We were framed by educational institutes on three sides and a main road on the fourth. While our small community comprised of people from different communities across the various states of India, if I look back, I can see the Tamil Brahmin community most predominant here, with most of them from Kerala or the Palakkad Iyers. Most buildings, with some exceptions which only had people from a certain community as residents, had a few tambram families in residence. Everyone was a mama or mami and not uncle or aunty and everyone knew everyone, or at the very least knew our parents and grandparents, many of whom they were either together at school, in the same class or from the same village in Tamil Nadu or Kerala.

In my own building, the bulk of our neighbours were from my own community and this is why I call my small slice of area an urban agraharam. Everyone was solidly middle class and if you probed enough, you found some connection with them, either through family or friends and once the connection was made, you were part of them. I know now that even living in a secular and multi-community city like Mumbai made us quite insular when it came to Tamil culture. The only Tamil culture I knew was the Tambram one and coming to Singapore, to a culture similar to my own was actually a culture shock to me.

But, growing up in a community made mostly of people who had the same values, the same traditions as us was just as charming. Festivals which are unique to my community was commonplace here and I never questioned why the rest didn’t celebrate it. For example, the annual Avani avittam festival which is the only festival for the men who on this day would change their sacred threads used to be held in a nearby school with a few priests from one of the temples in Matunga coming over to conduct the rituals. Since there were enough men who wore the sacred thread, it probably made sense for the organizers to hold a mini session in our area. Since the day was not a public holiday, they used to do the session fairly early so the men and boys could then go on to work and school. And in all the years my grandfather and then father went here instead of to our temple in Matunga, I never questioned why. It all seemed normal to me. We loved going to each other’s homes for festivals like Diwali, Navratri and Ganesh Chaturti in our pavadais and sing songs and gorge on the delicacies.

That was a lovely time growing up. Everyone looked out for each other and mamas and mamis didn’t heaitate to scold or tell on a child they knew if the said child did something wrong. We thought nothing of going into anyone’s house for a drink of water or to use the bathroom. We were also quite safe in our little enclave and most of us pretty much lived our whole lives there till we moved out.

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Life in our small community has changed now. Many buildings are being knocked down to make way for high rises, especially since this area is now a prime area, within what is considered the original Bombay and close, but not too close to the city. A lot of people from the community moved to suburbs like Chembur, Thane and Dombivili when the real estate prices here started picking up in the nineties. I think my grandparents and parents even explored the idea of moving to Chembur, but thankfully dropped the idea very soon. Life goes on, but in our area, the percentage of tambrams has reduced tremendously, so much so it can’t be called an agraharam anymore. I mourn for this loss, but c’est la vie and life must go on. The chakra of life never stops and I am sure in some of the suburbs I mentioned newer urban agraharams have been created.

Recipes: Mixed Pumpkin Poritcha Kozambu

Tamil Brahmin cooking is generally considered to be quite healthy and satvik. In our everyday cooking, onions and garlic are generally not used and there are people even today who can’t stand the smell of garlic being cooked. My grandmother is one of them. When we make anything with garlic, she generally leaves the kitchen and in fact goes to the room furthest away from the kitchen so the smell does not bother her.

A Poritcha Kozambu is something like a stew which is made by cooking a mixture of vegetables with a paste made of coconut, urad dal and peppercorns and some cooked dal. I had some yellow and orange pumpkin left over when I made some Avial and these were too little to make something with just one of them. So I decided to combine the two to make a fusion kozambu and kootu out of the two vegetables. Generally pumpkins are not used for a poritcha kozambu but this recipe was a huge success. I loved it as did S and the children and this recipe will find its way to my cooking repertoire and I will make it often.

Mixed Pumpkin Poritcha Kozambu

Ingredients:
½ yellow pumpkin, peeled and chopped into bite-sized pieces
½ white pumpkin, peeled and chopped into bite-sized pieces
1 cup toor dal,
½ tsp turmeric powder
3 tbsp coconut
1 tsp broken urad dal
3-4 dried red chillies
1 tsp cumin seeds
1 tsp black peppercorns
1 tbsp tamarind paste
1 tbsp oil
Salt to taste
Chopped coriander leaves to garnish

Method:
Wash the toor dal and soak in hot water for 10 minutes. Then pressure cook the dal with ¼ tsp turmeric powder until it is soft and mushy. Once the pressure reduces and you are able to open the cooker, mash the dal well and keep aside.
Heat the oil in a small skillet and when it warms up, add the cumin seeds, dried red chillies, urad dal, and pepper corns and fry till the urad dal changes colour to a nice brown. Then add the grated coconut and stir constantly until the coconut is brown and completely devoid of water. Keep aside and let it cool.
When the coconut is cool, grind it completely to a smooth paste using water as needed.
In the same pan, add the chopped pumpkins, ¼ tsp turmeric powder and some salt and cook until the pumpkins are about 70% cooked.
When the pumpkins are cooked, but still have a bite to them, add the mashed dal and the coconut paste and stir well.
Add the tamarind paste and check for seasoning. Let it boil for about 5-7 minutes.
Garnish with coriander leaves and serve hot over steamed rice and a stir fried vegetable of your choice.

Recipes: Arachavitta Vellai Pooshnikkai Sambar or Ground White Pumpkin Sambar

This recipe initially started its life as an experiment, but it was quite successful and the resulting sambar was so tasty, I was pleasantly surprised. While any arachavitta or ground sambar is yummy, the addition of the white pumpkin or Winter Melon or Ash Gourd as its called in English and Vellai Pooshnikkai in Tamil elevated this recipe. This recipe is perfect for the days you can’t use onions in your recipe. I have blogged about both Arachivitta Sambar and White Pumpkin Rasavangi and this is a lovely marriage between the two. So let’s go to the recipe.

Arachavitta Vellai Pooshnikkai Sambar or Ground White Pumpkin/Ash Groud/Winter Melon Sambar

Ingredients:

  • 2 cups white pumpkin, peeled, the seeds removed and cut into 1 inch cubes
  • 1 lemon sized piece of tamarind, soaked in hot water for 30-40 minutes
  • 1 cup toor dal
  • 2 tbsp oil
  • 1 tsp mustard seeds
  • 1 tbsp chana dal
  • 2 tbsps coriander seeds
  • 6-8 dried red chillies
  • ¼ cup fresh grated coconut
  • 1 tbsp sambar powder (optional)
  • 1-2 tbsp jaggery (optional)
  • Salt to taste
  • 2 tbsp finely chopped coriander leaves to garnish

Method:

  • In a small pressure cooker, pressure cook the toor dal with ¼ tsp turmeric powder till it is soft and the dal has broken down complety. This usually will take around 3 whistles in the cooker. When the pressure reduces, open the cover of the cooker and then whisk the dal well. Keep aside.
  • Mash the tamarind when it becomes cool to touch and then squeeze tamarind and drain the water so the fibres get separated and you have the water. Alternatively use 3-4 tbsp tamarind paste which you can get at any Indian store.
  • Heat 1 tbsp oil in a small pan and put the chana dal, coriander seeds and dried red chillies and stir a while till the chana dal starts to brown. At this point add the fresh grated coconut and constantly stir until all the water from the coconut dries up and you have a crisp brown coconut with no water whatsoever. Note that if there is any water left in this, your sambar may spoil later in the day.
  • Once this coconut mixture is cool, grind it to a fine paste using some water in a blender. Make sure the paste is as fine as you can make it.
  • In a large pan, heat the balance 1 tbsp oil and when the oil is warm, add the mustard seeds and when the seeds pop, add the chopped white pumpkin and cook the cubes for about 5 minutes.
  • Then add the tamarind water which has been thinned to suit your taste and add salt to taste. You can also add sambar powder at this point if you want. Also add the jaggery if you are using here.
  • Let the white pumpkin cook until it is cooked, but still has a bite to it.
  • At this point, add the ground paste and the cooked dal and cook for another 5-10 minutes.
  • Check for seasoning at this point before switching off the gas.
  • Garnish with coriander leaves and serve hot with plain rice, white or brown and a curry of your choice.
  • This is also very tasty with any South Indian food like Upma, Idli or Dosai.

Recipes: Kalyana Gotsu

Earlier in the week, we celebrated the harvest festival of Pongal and on that day I made Venn Pongal for dinner. I wanted to make something to go with this but was not in the mood for Coconut chutney, so decided to search for something else to make to go with Pongal.

I came across Gotsu, which is also a traditional accompaniment to Pongal, but this is usually made with Brinjals or Aubergines. S is allergic to this vegetable, so I decided to substitute it with other vegetables. This is also a one-pot recipe and I made it from start to end in my pressure cooker. It can also be made in a large pan or dutch oven but will take longer than if you use a pressure cooker. It was so yummy and tasty and everyone gobbled it up.

This Gotsu is also served in weddings, especially for breakfast with Idlis, Vadai and Pongal.

Kalyana Gotsu

Ingredients:

  • 2 carrots, chopped finely
  • 2 potatoes, chopped finely
  • 1 large tomato, chopped finely
  • 1 lemon sized ball of tamarind or 3 tbsp tamarind paste
  • 1/4 cup moong dal
  • 3 tbsp chana dal
  • 1 tbsp oil
  • 1 tsp mustard seeds
  • 2 green chillies, slit lengthwise
  • 5-6 curry leaves
  • 2 tbsp sambhar powder
  • 1 tbsp jaggery (can omit this or even substitute with sugar)
  • 1/4 tsp asafoetida
  • Salt to taste

Method:

  • Soak the tamarind in hot water for 30 minutes, then squeeze the pulp out and strain the water. Keep aside.
  • Soak the dals together in warm water for 30 minutes, strain and keep aside.
  • Heat the oil in the pressure cooker and add the mustard seeds. When the seeds pop, add the curry leaves, asafoetida and green chillies and stir for a few seconds.
  • Now add the finely chopped tomatoes and stir for a few minutes.
  • Then add the finely chopped potatoes and carrots and stir well.
  • Then add the soaked dals and give it a good stir.
  • Now add the tamarind water, sambhar powder and salt to taste and stir everything well.
  • Cover the pressure cooker and cook for 3-4 whistles.
  • If you are using a pan or dutch oven to cook, cover and cook, stirring occasionally. Periodically check and add water if needed. You need the vegetables to be fully cooked and the dals to be soft and mushy.
  • When the pressure reduces in the cooker, open and lightly mash the gotsu with a potato masher. Don’t mash it completely like we do for Pav Bhaji, but just a bit to make the gotsu thicker.
  • Add the jaggery and check for seasoning. Garnish with coriander leaves and serve hot with Idli, Dosai, Vadai or Pongal.

Notes:

  • I made this without onions or shallots because I made it on a festival day. If you want, you can add onions or shallots and the place to add it is just after popping the mustard seeds.
  • You can use any vegetables you like though it’s usually made with Brinjals or Aubergines.