Always Add Aloo
Following a hectic few months with numerous holidays and breaks, college applications, and other deadlines, I am happy to be back from my hiatus, writing yet another post based on my grandmother, Maji’s recipes.
It is winter, and I have been craving Maji’s special Titaura Aloo Ras (Mung lentil balls and potatoes, cooked in garlic--tomato-ginger gravy) ladled over a bowl of steaming rice and a side of sag. It has been a while since I have been in Kathmandu during winter but as Maji always says food tastes the best in winter. “First frost on the ground is like magic to fresh vegetables,” Maji says. As the winter haze clears up in Kathmandu, the skies are bluer, tomatoes get sweeter, the green leafy vegetables get sharper, and the taste of fresh vegetables deepens.
To pay homage to Maji’s love for winter and my own Kathmandu roots (wi an American twist), I decided to make a full-blown Nepali meal this month. Sag and Titaura Aloo pair beautifully to make the Nepali comfort bowl of my childhood and a Nepali dinner I’ve grown up enjoying.
Titaura Aloo Ras
If this was going to be a true homage to Maji, then I have to make everything from scratch. Maji is a purist, and that is one of the many things that is special about her. So, the first step was actually making the titaura in my own kitchen.
Titaura is made from Mung daal. I started the process by soaking Mung daal overnight in water. The next morning I drained the Mung daal and put it into the food processor with very little water. I took the thick, pale yellow mixture (paste) and added a spoon of turmeric to it, bringing out the bright yellow color characteristic of titaura.
I sprayed a dehydrator tray with oil and then, using my thumb, index, and middle fingers, I took the mixture and dropped them in small amounts onto a tray. I spaced them about an inch apart so they wouldn’t clump together on the sheet. When I did this correctly, they came out looking like small pyramid-shaped towers (similar to Hershey kisses). Maji is an expert in this technique. When I was in Kathmandu this summer, she spent a good amount of time making me practice in front of her. Maji has been making titaura for more than 75 years every winter. The process takes a few days as she dries them in the sun (told you she was a purist).
However, the DC winter sun is no match for Kathmandu’s winter sun. So rather than letting the titaura sun-dry, I prepped mine in a dehydrator at 125C overnight.
Then I waited. I let the titaura sit in the dehydrator overnight before removing the tray in the morning. At this point the titauras were dry and I could pick each one up from the sheet.
Next, it was time to cook them.
In a pan, I sauteed a handful of titaura in ghee (clarified butter), until they developed a reddish color.
When the titauras were done cooking, I set them aside to cool. The next step would be including them in the main dish: ras.
To make the ras (or gravy), the first step was to prep the ingredients. The first ingredient was of course the aloo, meaning potato. I peeled a few red potatoes and then cut them into wedges. Then I diced two large tomatoes very finely, peeled and mashed a few cloves of garlic and an inch of ginger, and chopped a handful of cilantro stems and leaves. And that was it! Besides the inclusion of spices and seasonings, this delicious ras surprisingly had only six ingredients!
Once all the raw ingredients had been set aside it was time to cook. I sauteed the potatoes with a tablespoon of ghee and then seasoned them, adding salt for taste, turmeric which gave the potatoes a deep yellow color, and cumin powder, creating a mouth-watering aroma that wafted throughout the house. It took me right back to Maji’s kitchen in Kathmandu, where delicious smells were always circling.
I then added the mashed garlic and ginger to the gravy. Once the potato wedges had cooked, I added the diced tomatoes. The fresh tomato juice served as the base of the soup, giving it its bright orange color.
Finally, it was time to add the titauras. I poured them into the gravy, stirred a few times, covered the pot, and then let them simmer in low heat until the rest of the meal (saag and rice) were ready.
Sag
The last item of the meal was the greens, which is an important element of a balanced Maji meal. There are many variations of sag made with leaves from different plants, the most ubiquitous being spinach. I used two different types of leaves in my sag: fenugreek and spinach leaves.
I separated the leaves from their tough stems, and chopped them up. I took another potato, peeling and cutting it into half-moon shaped slices.
Although it's certainly not necessary to put potato wedges in sag, Maji, is a big potato fan. She somehow finds a way to sneak potatoes into every meal.She says potato goes with everything and brings harmony. She used to say, in the world of non potatoes, be a potato, which I have also come to believe.
I first sauteed the potato in ghee with ajwain seeds (carom seeds) and then added the leaves, sprinkling a bit of salt over the greens and covering the pan. As to not overcook the leaves, I removed them from heat as soon as they wilted.
Taste
Finally, it was time to eat! I prepared some rice to eat with the titaura aloo ras and set each dish out.
I scooped some rice into my bowl, large spoonfuls of titaura aloo and some sag on the side. You could combine all the ingredients together or eat them separately. I did the former as I enjoy the fusion of flavors.
The meal was just like I’d remembered. The comforting taste of the titaura aloo ras warmed me up and reminded me of Maji’s cooking. I also enjoyed the variation of textures. The soft potatoes, the firm titaura, squishy sag, the fluffy rice, and the titaura gravy came together in my mouth beautifully.
Part of the beauty of the meal was its simplicity. That is what is special about Maji’s recipes—she was a firm believer in using few ingredients to make an amazing meal. I am grateful to have this in my family’s recipe and will it again and again and again.
