It’s a sultry autumn afternoon. An overwhelming quiet pervades, a sharp contrast to the hectic humdrum and hullabaloo of the morning.
Grandma, I notice, has dozed off on her rocking chair, the red leather-bound Ramayana cradled on her lap.
I sit, pompous as a queen, on Grandma’s ancient rosewood four-poster, watching the pair of red-crested bulbuls perched on the gnarled jackfruit tree. Abanindranth Thakur’s Khirer Putul, lying open in front of me, frowns in dismay on being overlooked.
My eyes suddenly catch Dada tiptoeing towards the kitchen. Stealthy, surreptitious steps.
And then just minutes later, he darts back to his room in a flash.
I decide to not pay heed and am back to my gorgeous bulbuls.
A cuckoo arrives now, hidden somewhere in the gulmohar tree, a frenzied riot of red, singing plaintive tunes.
I am unsure how long before I spot Dada secretively sneaking up to the kitchen again and then, hardly minutes later, dashing back to the refuge of his room.
My curiosity is stoked for sure.
But I choose to ignore him again.
And then it happens yet again.
No longer able to contain my curiosity, I get off the bed and tiptoe behind Dada. Careful to not alert him.
I see him enter the kitchen.
Beside the mud oonoon (clay oven), patiently rests one of Grandma’s kansa thalas (plates), glistening in unabashed pride as it catches a streak of the afternoon sun, covered by a bowl, a pristine white enamel with a pretty blue border all round the rim.
Dada lifts the bowl in a clean snatch, picks something from the plate, I cannot figure what though, and pops it into his mouth before returning the bowl to its precise place and scurrying out of the kitchen.
I wait for a couple of minutes.
Pin-drop silence again. Punctuated by bird-song.
It’s time now for me to investigate.
Circumspect steps, uncovering the plate and I immediately know what’s been tempting Dada to visit the kitchen so often this afternoon.
It’s the chapors.
Didi must have roasted these motor dal fritters this morning and left them covered, beside the cozy warmth of the dying embers of the oonoon, in anticipation of pairing them with vegetables for dinner.
A paroxysm of guilt overcomes me for a quick moment, but the allure of these finger-licking delicious chapors is not one I can conquer.
I clumsily tear off a shred from an already mutilated chapor, then another one and rush to the safe haven of Grandma’s room.
Dada and I make several more clandestine trips to the kitchen that afternoon and my last venture yields just crumbs.
But even those crumbs, I muse later that evening, are so incredibly addictive.
I am sure Didi knew the moment she saw the empty plate covered by the enamel bowl, just as she had left it, as to where her chapors had disappeared.
But she was not one to complaint.
Never.
The next morning Didi prepares a fresh batch of chapors and Grandma makes the quintessential Bengali delicacy, uchhe chapor ghonto.
One of those rare bittergourd dishes that Dada can be coaxed to have, without loads of ruckus.
Uchhe Chapor Ghonto. Bittergourd. Roasted motor dal fritters. The earthy fragrance of panchforon. The warmth of ginger.
Yet another classic from Grandmas kitchen.
Sublime !!!
And let me assure you, even if you are not a bittergourd fan, do try my Uchhe Chapor Ghonto, it shall make you a convert for sure !!!
Uchhe Chapor Ghonto (Bittergourd with Roasted Lentil Fritters)
Ingredients
For Chapor
- 1/3 cup motor dal or yellow pea dal soaked overnight
- 1/2 tsp turmeric powder
- 2 dry whole red chilies
- 1/2 tsp ginger paste
- 2 green chilies slit
- 2.5 tbsp mustard oil
- salt to taste
For Uchhe Chapor Ghonto
- 500 g uchhe or bittergourd cut into medium thick roundels
- 3 medium potatoes cut into small cubes
- 1/4 cup coconut freshly grated
- 1 tsp turmeric powder
- 1 tsp panchforan
- 2-3 bay leaves
- 1 tsp black mustard seeds coarsely ground
- 2-3 green chilies slit
- 1 tbsp ginger paste
- 3 tbsp mustard oil
- 1 tbsp ghee
- 1 tsp sugar
- salt to taste
Instructions
For Chapor
- Drain the motor dal from water, grind coarsely with the green chilies and little water to make a thick paste. Add salt, ginger paste and turmeric powder, give it a hearty mix.
- Heat mustard oil on a flat pan. Place small amount of ground motor dal on the pan. Using a spatula or finger , spread it evenly to make small lentil patties.
- Place the pan over a medium flame, cook till the edges start turning a gorgeous brown and the motor dal chapor / 'patty' lifts off the surface of the pan, indicating the underside of the chapor has been cooked. (You might need to brush the edges of the chapor with a bit of oil if it's threatening to stick to the pan)
- Carefully flip the chapor over, brush the edges with a little oil, fry till the other side is cooked perfectly and the chapor easily lifts off the surface of the pan.
- Keep aside on a kitchen absorbent towel, allow to cool to room temperature.
- Coarsely break the chapor into small pieces, keep aside.
For Uchhe Chapor Ghonto
- Heat 2 tbsp mustard oil, add the bittergourd slices, sprinkle in the salt and turmeric powder. Fry till the bittergourd turns a light brown. Keep it over a kitchen absorbent towel.
- Add rest of the mustard oil in the kadai, when smoking hot, throw in the panchforan, dry red chilies and bay leaves. Allow the spices to splutter.
- Now add the potato cubes, sprinkle in the salt and turmeric powder. Fry till it turns a light brown.
- Add the fried bittergourds, the chapor shreads, half the grated coconut and 1/2 tbsp ginger paste, saute for 3-4 minutes over a low flame. Splash a little water if it is getting a bit too dry.
- Meanwhile, add the remaining oil in a small tadka pan. When smoking hot, throw in the coarsely ground black mustard seeds and the green chilies. Allow to splutter.
- Reduce the heat, add 1 tbsp ginger paste. Saute for a minute. Carefully pour over the bittergourd.
- Give a hearty stir to the bittergourd, add the sugar and adjust seasonings. Splash a little water, continue to cook for another 3-4 odd minutes.
- Finish with generous dollop of ghee and the remaining freshly grated coconut . Serve hot with rice.
We make similarly like this! And we call it paruppu Archa karmadhu meaning ground lentils dry curry! And we use different veggies with it one of them is bitter gourd!
Good to know Jayasri. Would love the recipe of the paruppu Archa karmadhu if you can share please. 🙂