#quick and easy bhindi recipes

[suchananewsblog]

3 Easy Ways Of Making Yummy Kurkuri Bhindi At Home (Recipes Inside)

Bhindi or okra (known as lady finger in English) is one of the most popular vegetables in India. It is nutritious and also travels well – making it a common tiffin dish. There are innumerable ways to give your own twist to bhindi, and you could also rely on traditional recipes. But “kurkuri bhindi” remains one of the most beloved. Any recipe that involves cooking ladyfingers until they are crisp…

[berlin-jones]

Indian Groceries In Phoenix AZ

When it comes to finding authentic and high-quality Indian Groceries In Phoenix AZ, New India Bazaar & Cuisine stands as a one-stop destination for all your culinary needs. Conveniently located at 2544 N 7th St suite 101, Phoenix, AZ 85006, United States, this vibrant market offers a rich selection of Indian staples, spices, and fresh ingredients that are essential for bringing the flavors of India to your home kitchen. Whether you're cooking a traditional meal or experimenting with new recipes, New India Bazaar ensures you have access to the finest products. With a well-stocked inventory and excellent customer service, this store is a go-to for both seasoned chefs and home cooks.

Upon entering New India Bazaar & Cuisine, the rich aromas of Indian spices like cumin, coriander, and garam masala immediately greet you. The store offers a wide range of Indian groceries including rice, lentils, flours, and various ready-to-eat items that cater to those seeking authentic Indian flavors. Whether you’re looking for Basmati rice, Atta flour, or specific spices like turmeric, red chili powder, or hing (asafoetida), New India Bazaar has it all. They stock products from renowned Indian brands such as MDH, Everest, Shan, and Patanjali, which are staples in Indian households.

Fresh produce is a cornerstone of any great meal, and New India Bazaar takes pride in offering a variety of seasonal vegetables and herbs, many of which are unique to Indian cooking. From fresh okra (bhindi) to Indian eggplants (brinjal) and bitter gourds (karela), you’ll find vegetables that are difficult to source elsewhere in Phoenix. You can also find fresh curry leaves, coriander, and green chilies, essential for many Indian recipes. Their well-maintained produce section ensures that you are cooking with the freshest and highest quality ingredients, making your dishes stand out in flavor and authenticity.

For those with a sweet tooth, New India Bazaar & Cuisine carries an array of traditional Indian sweets and snacks. You can indulge in gulab jamun, jalebi, or soan papdi, all made from premium ingredients. They also have a selection of ready-to-eat snacks like samosas, pakoras, and a wide variety of namkeens such as bhujiya, sev, and chakli, which make for perfect teatime treats or party appetizers. You’ll also find frozen foods like parathas, naan, and other pre-prepared Indian bread to complement your meals.

Aside from groceries, New India Bazaar features a well-curated selection of Indian personal care products and household items. You’ll find trusted brands like Himalaya, Dabur, and Vicco for your skincare, haircare, and wellness needs. Whether you’re shopping for herbal shampoos, Ayurvedic medicines, or traditional soaps like Medimix and Chandrika, New India Bazaar makes it easy to maintain your Indian lifestyle in Phoenix.

What sets New India Bazaar & Cuisine apart is not just its vast array of grocery items, but also its dine-in and take-out options. The store doubles as a casual dining spot where you can sample authentic Indian cuisine. Whether you're craving a rich butter chicken, a savory biryani, or a crispy dosai, the attached restaurant serves up delicious meals that capture the essence of India. Their chaat items, such as pani puri and bhel puri, are also crowd favorites. You can grab a quick bite while shopping for your ingredients, making the experience even more convenient and enjoyable.

New India Bazaar & Cuisine also offers bulk purchasing options, making it ideal for families or anyone who frequently cooks Indian meals. If you’re planning a special event or preparing meals for a large gathering, you can rely on their extensive selection of rice, lentils, and spices to meet your needs. Their pricing is competitive, and they offer frequent promotions and discounts, making it a budget-friendly option for high-quality Indian groceries.

For those who are unfamiliar with certain Indian ingredients or dishes, the friendly and knowledgeable staff at New India Bazaar & Cuisine are always ready to assist. Whether you need help finding a specific item or advice on how to use certain spices or ingredients, their team provides exceptional customer service, ensuring that your shopping experience is both educational and enjoyable. Their commitment to quality and customer satisfaction has made them a trusted name in the Phoenix community.

In addition to their in-store offerings, New India Bazaar & Cuisine also provides phone ordering services. You can easily call them at +1 602-712-0009 to check the availability of products, place orders for pick-up, or inquire about their restaurant menu. This level of convenience ensures that you can access authentic Indian groceries and meals without any hassle.

Overall, New India Bazaar & Cuisine is a haven for anyone looking to buy Indian groceries in Phoenix, AZ. From hard-to-find spices and ingredients to freshly made meals and snacks, they provide everything you need under one roof. The store’s combination of a wide product range, excellent customer service, and authentic dining options makes it a standout choice for anyone interested in Indian cuisine. So, the next time you're in need of Indian ingredients or craving a delicious meal, head over to New India Bazaar & Cuisine at 2544 N 7th St suite 101, Phoenix, AZ 85006, or give them a call at +1 602-712-0009 for a truly authentic Indian experience.

[indianyoghurt]

Simple and wholesome dishes to make with dahi

Curd or dahi is a staple in almost all Indian households. While some enjoy plain curd without any additions or flavors, several others try out a variety of interesting dishes with dahi. If you are health conscious, it would especially be a good idea to buy Indian yoghurt in Australia and use it instead of cream in many dishes. Dahi can not only add an amazing creamy texture to various dishes, it is also rich in nutrients like vitamin B, calcium, magnesium, and riboflavin. Dahi may even help you to build your immunity, lower blood pressure, and promote bone health. There are many easy and wholesome dishes that can be prepared after buying Dahi in Australia. Here are a few of them:

Dahi Aloo: This is a gravy side dish that goes perfectly well with plain chapattis and steaming rice. It is a fairly simple dish, in which potatoes are cooked in dahi. You can make this dish less than 20 minutes or so.

Dahi Bhindi: This is a much popular dish from Hyderabad. Dahi Bhindi is a simple and quick curry recipe. Dahi helps give the curry a smooth and soft texture. This sabzi absorbs the spicy curd gravy and becomes juicy as you eat it.

Kadai Paneer: This delicious dish is spicy, creamy and a hot favorite in India. It can also be made pretty fast, and hence you can easily make it when you have guests coming over.

Palak Raita: Usually this recipe is eaten as a side dish. It not only comes with numerous health benefits, but it also can be whipped up in no time!.

Dahi chicken: Featuring creamy dahi and intense flavour of masalas, Dahi chicken is an amazing dish that you can have with roti or rice. You can also choose to have chutney as an accompaniment with it.

You can buy Indian Dahi in Australia and prepare any of the dishes mentioned above. Detailed recipes for each of these recipes can also be found on the web, and hence you are unlikely to face any trouble whipping them up.

[twistednuns]

August 2023

Manu helped me with the fridge disaster - I actually had to ask for assistance with the lifting because I wasn't strong enough to do it on my own. I'm still learning this lesson... He and Do endured my quick temper and bitchiness due to acute overwhelm during that week. Grateful.

Sushi with grilled salmon and avocado, pre-cut fresh fruit.

Learning about anisocoria. I always thought I was weird for having different pupil sizes.

Finding a flyer for a Kundalini yoga studio nearby. Fantastic recipes in Schrot und Korn magazine.

My first shower at home. Spa-feeling: a fluffy bathrobe, expensive hair care products, a hair dryer...

Becoming a patron for Fran Meneses, one of my favourite illustrators. I love her little photo updates, podcasts and videos.

How easy it is to share dishes with the Friendzone - I love our little dinner collaborations (we met at Schuhbauers in Freising).

Having access to all my clothes, make-up and jewellery again!

Driving to the thermal bath in Bad Aibling with Do. Hanging out in the relaxation dome where they play music underwater. Doris kissed me! Interesting. I really hope starting this again won't hurt her. Afterwards we had dinner at an Italian restaurant. Highlight: pickled onions with balsamic vinegar.

I got to drive Do's car a few times and actually got a rental car to run a few errands. I enjoy driving so much! I might actually be time to get my own car again.

Slowly bringing the apartment back to life. So much to do but I secretly loved it.

Being offered a garden plot while chatting to a lady in the plant department of the local hardware store. Sadly it's too far away for me.

I'm really proud of my balcony makeover. It took me a whole day but it's absolutely lovely out there now. The only thing still missing is a parasol. It was such a good idea to bring my old chair from my grandma's house and get a carpet. Very cosy.

A walk along the river in Thalkirchen with Chris. Getting Cornetto Bottermelk from the kiosk.

Cycling to Alnatura to save a bag of baked goods. Getting my favourite tofu. Meeting Manu at Woolworth, then buying him an ice-cream in his lunch break.

A great conversation with Michael about meditation, enlightenment, philosophy (and excrements to be completely honest). I love that I seem to attract people like that now.

Trolli's giant cheeseburger gummy candy.

Being almost done with my apartment. Starting to decorate and dealing with my mum's crystals.

Watching a thunderstorm on my balcony.

Making a big batch of Bhindi Masala.

Starting to dream again, waking up at 7:30am every day.

Organising my recipe book.

I finally started to watch She-Ra and the Princesses of Power and I love it. It's sparkly, swirly, queer, magical.

Picking wild strawberries on the balcony.

Meeting Becky at our usual spot, the Italian restaurant terrace around the corner. It's just always good to see her, we really seem to get each other. I told her how difficult it is for me to be back and how it feels like I'm simply forgetting what I've learned, falling back into old patterns and ways of thinking immediately. She completely understood. Reassuring. We want to go to the theatre together soon, join an improv and dance class and declutter our wardrobes together and sell everything at the fleamarket.

An inspired morning. Tea and journalling outside. Facial massage. Reciting the five mindfulness trainings (and regretting not going to Bordeaux to volunteer at the Educator's retreat a little). Being super motivated to act like the person I want to be. Fake it till I make it.

Cycling to Maria Einsiedel with Manu. He bought me cherry Capri Sun and gummy candy, brought buttered pretzels. We played a card game, met Chris in the water and a former student at the gas station. Just playing/fighting/piggy back rides in the water were so much fun. Afterwards we made my favourite pasta dish at his place and watched a Bibi Blocksberg movie.

A cold morning after a big thunderstorm. Inspecting the damage on the balcony, hanging everything up to dry. Making a big cup of matcha. Making dinner plans for Japanese tapas. Adopting a passion fruit tree in Spain via CrowdFarming!

Seeing how quickly my nasturtium is sprouting and growing. It only took a few days of sunshine to see the first tiny leaves - usually it can take up to three weeks to see growth.

A balcony session with Becky. Going to the supermarket together (and I didn't buy a single thing even though I was tempted, I'm super proud of myself). Simply hanging out like we used to do with our school friends as kids.

The fantastic smell of Jen+Len ginger rosemary soap. It makes me happy every time I wash my hands.

Elaborate (ayurvedic) skin care rituals in the morning. Cleaning my nose with salt water, scraping my tongue. Facial yoga and gua sha.

Riding my bike to Westend. Realizing that it's not even that far to go downtown and that I should do it more often.

All you can eat Japanese tapas with Lena and Christian. Talking about our personalities and habits. Making plans for future collaborations. I could probably invest in his business and create my own job there. Make art, teach... I'm actually considering it.

Being genuinely surprised by the first spot of rainbow light after hanging up two crystals at the trellis.

My first Isar boat ride ever! And, as luck would have it, I went with Fabi whom I hadn't seen in over two years. Frank cancelled last minute. We got snacks at the supermarket and carried everything to the river. So far so good. Ate a whole box of strawberries and some fine mountain cheese. White chocolate and lemon Mozart balls. But then the adventure really started. We got stuck in a bunch of trees. Of course we discovered a hole in the boat when we got out of the water to reach the next part of the river. But people were so friendly and helpful, they gave us their repair kit and got tape for us from the car, helped us out with an extra pump. After we turned turtle and lost half our stuff, some guys down the stream fished out a good part of it so we had almost everything back! An incredible day. In the end we found a spot near the road to get out, saw a huge dead beaver, carried everything uphill and rented a car to carry it home. I needed some comfort and ease. Wearing warm clothes and stopping at McDonald's was such a treat. We even made it back to the river at night to stop by the Burner event. And it was lovely how at ease I felt with Fabi! Perhaps we actually used to be better friends than I thought.

Appreciation for my body. I wonder what I did to be in quite decent shape at the moment. I love cycling everywhere. Stretching. Even hard things like walking uphill for a long time aren't that bad anymore but it's probably mainly my mental attitude. I see it as a challenge, a journey rather than something impossible and unpleasant.

Feeling a lot of awe and gratitude for Pachamama eating breakfast in my balcony nook. Juicy mangos, tart cacao nibs... It's so amazing what nature provides. Lighting a candle, giving thanks.

Autogrill (I'm so obsessed I even invented a little song for whenever I see one of them) cappuccinos and PocketCoffee summer edition (a tiny cup of espresso with a straw - how lovely and childish, it reminds me of Capri Sun).

Driving down to Italy. The best snacks. Do planning everything. Staying at a vineyard. The sunset. SUPing with a beautiful vista if the mountains at Lago di Garda.

An osteria in the countryside with cheap prices and great pizza. Ravenously eating my salad first.

Shopping at the Italian supermarket. Pistachio and truffle heaven. Amarena cherries. Aromatic peaches.

The hot Tuscan air. Dry landscape. A mountain valley. Cypresses and empty houses in the countryside.

Hanging out by the pool for hours. Playing with Rexi, my old floating toy alligator (and killing him by jumping into the water on his back). Playing rummikub, choosing from five different kinds of ice-cream sandwiches/popsicles.

A shooting star over the pool!

Waking up on a cool morning. Sleeping in. Creative dreams. Feeling good. Less pain in my hip (presumably).

A day at a white sandy beach near Vada. My golden skin and nail polish against the Caribbean turquoise water. Taking photos with a disposable underwater camera. Sitting on each other's backs in the water. Focaccia and ice cream.

Sagra Porcini in Arcille. Delicious Tagliatelle with mushrooms and Tortelli with sage butter. Watching the sun vanish behind a hill, the big bright half moon right behind us. Night swimming in the pool. Watching two episodes of Pumuckl. Repair.

We both said "Ein Sumpf!" at the same time and interlocked our pinkies. I wished for our connection, love, friendship to survive this challenge.

The amazing view over the valley from the crystal clear pool at my last stop. Water acoustics. A big, friendly (and deaf) Golden Retriever and a few cats running around.

We said goodbye one more time. Last time I cried at the Pacific in Mazunte, Mexico. This time at platform one, Stazione di Grosseto, Italy. Why does it always feel so final? Going home alone felt right. But it was so hard to leave her behind. She's right, something's not working and I'm hurting her. But she's my family. I don't wanna lose her. I have hope that we can turn this into something good with a bit of distance and time which is said to heal all wounds.

Looking up just to see 180° of the Mediterranean in the train window.

Adulting. Scheduling appointments. Responding to messages.

Finding the head of a single yellow rose on the ground.

The bakery bag I saved via TooGoodtoGo contained a loaf of bread I really like.

Christian Lacroix' colorful fabric designs for Desigual.

The second episode of the new Queer Eye season. Steph is such a cute person. And Jonathan's dresses are bombdotcom.

Finally deleting an app I wasted too much time with.

My first time at the Munich Wake-Up sangha. Meeting new people, listening and talking, singing together felt great. And I really needed that meditation.

Turning a mediocre pasta dish into a delicious pasta bake.

Finding out about Capri Sun cherry sirup. Sparkly nail polish, highlighter and delicious lip oil from Catrice (might have to get all of them).

Chatting to the medical assistant at the orthopedic practice who still remembers me and is super friendly. She shares all the hot gossip and even promised to take a picture of her 26-year-old house plant for me until my next appointment.

Visiting Manu at Isi's place where he's currently catsitting. Meeting Kovo, falling in love with him. Such a gentle, soft chonky boi. A relaxing parting gift.

Learning about the choir weekend and signing up at the last minute.

My _bias towards action _ principle in action. I usually regret NOT doing something so much more. I didn't feel too great this week but still went out every single evening and socialized.

Meeting the folks from my choir after my year-long absence! Getting to know Ille, the oldest choir member. She's such a Gemini: she loves languages and learning new things, just like me.

Half a buttered roll with sea salt and honey.

Breakfast celebration. Lighting a candle, a crystal and a flower to complete the set. Lovely coffee and fresh fruit. Sitting by the window, listening to a podcast and observing the wildlife in the trees outside.

Rapunzel's Almond Coconut spread is so freaking delicious I can't allow myself to buy it. Like, ever. It's basically Raffaello in a jar.

Sauerkraut. I've missed it so much. Roasted oven veggies with halloumi. All the right spices. Gosh, I love having my own kitchen back.

A quick phone call with Hanna. I'm looking forward to our appointments next month!

Learning what an okra plant looks like. Now I want to grow my own!

Berry tiramisu overnight oats.

A voice message marathon with Michael about numerology, Kundalini, the spiritual path, finding balance and so on.

[corrianderleaf]

Ways to use Yogurt in Indian recipe

When is yogurt good for you?

1.Yogurt consumption may or may not be a healthy choice, depending on who is drinking it and what sort.

2.Yogurt contains significant amounts of protein, calcium, vitamins, living cultures, and probiotics, which can enhance the gut flora.

3.These might safeguard teeth, bones, and the digestive system.

4.Low-fat yogurt can be a useful source of protein when trying to reduce weight.

5.Probiotics may help to boost the immune system.

Types of Yogurts

1.Traditional Yogurt

By adding microorganisms to milk, yogurt is made and thickened, giving it its well-known tart flavor. In order to stop curds from developing, milk is heated. The mixture is then chilled before adding bacterial culture. Probiotics, which are live, active microorganisms found in most yogurt, support gut and intestinal health.

2. Greek Yogurt

This is strained to eliminate the liquid and whey after the yogurt base has been made, giving it a thicker consistency than regular yogurt. Greek yogurt is a well-liked alternative to sauces used in savory foods because of its potent sour flavor. (Did you know that ricotta cheese consists of the liquid and whey extracted from Greek yogurt?)

3. Australian Yogurt

Australian yogurt is unstrained, just like regular yogurt. Greek yogurt is thicker than standard yogurt but has a creamier texture. Since it is cooked more slowly and for a longer period of time than regular yogurt.

4. French Yogurt

Instead of being created in a large vat and then divided into containers, French-style yogurt is cultured in the individual-sized containers it is served in. It is much like conventional yogurt, but it is less sweet than other yogurts and has a smooth, creamy texture.

5. Skyr/Icelandic Yogurt

Greek yogurt is notably thinner and less tart than Icelandic yogurt, or Skyr.  It may be claimed that it is cheese because of the way the process causes curds to form. Skyr is promoted as Icelandic yogurt in the United States because, whatever it is properly called, it is eaten like yogurt. Skyr is one of the thickest yogurts on the market since it has been strained four times.

Indian Recipes With Yogurt Or Curd

1. Low-Fat Dahi Chicken

The dahi chicken recipe is flavorful and low in fat. Furthermore, it’s easy to make. Chicken pieces can be simply marinated in a curd marinade and left to rest for around 30 minutes. Once you add your onions and tomatoes, you can fry them in masala.

2. Dahi Aloo

This gravy side dish pairs beautifully with plain chapatis or hot, steaming rice. The dinner, which includes curd-cooked potatoes, is simple, quick, and delicious. On those leisurely days, you may prepare this meal in about 20 minutes.

3. Dahi Bhindi

It is a well-known Hyderabadi dish. Curd can be helpful while making dahi bhindi, a straightforward and speedy curry preparation that has a smooth and creamy texture. When you eat this sabzi, the spicy curd (dahi) gravy absorbs into it, making it juicy.

4. Kadai Paneer

This delicious and delectable dish is not only simple to prepare but also a favorite of paneer lovers. You can quickly prepare this dahi kadai paneer when you have visitors over because it only takes 30 minutes to prepare.

5. Chicken Yoghurt Curry

This is a recipe that all chicken fans will like devouring with roti or chawal and will taste fantastic. However the dahi in it adds a calming taste to the dish’s robust masala flavor. Chutney is an additional option that you have with it.

Read more: Ways to use Yogurt in Indian recipe

[recipesadda]

100 indian quick lunch ideas 2022-23 | 100 Best Indian Lunch Recipes | Easy Lunch Recipes

100 indian quick lunch ideas 2022-23 | 100 Best Indian Lunch Recipes | Easy Lunch Recipes

Indian quick lunch ideas मसाला भिंडी (Masala Bhindi) Kolhapuri Vegetables Black Channa And Coconut Stew Paneer Achaari Dal Makhani Avocado Egg Salad Sandwich Linguine With Bacon, Peaches And Gorgonzola Zoodles With Avocado And Mango Sauce Bharvan Baingan Tomato Salad With Grilled Halloumi And Herbs Italian Deli Pinwheel Sandwiches Joanna Gaines’s Peach Caprese Salad Sheet Pan Indian-spiced…

[mydietsposts]

Rajasthani-Style Kurkuri Bhindi: Amp Up Your Meal With This Crispy Bhindi Recipe

Rajasthani-Style Kurkuri Bhindi: Amp Up Your Meal With This Crispy Bhindi Recipe

Whether you call it bhindi, okra, or ladies finger, the love for this vegetable is undeniable. This widely found ingredient is easy to cook and quick to make, which makes it a household favourite. And the best part about this veggie is that you can add any flavour to it, and it will adapt to its taste. This is also the reason why we find many regional variations in bhindi. One such variation is…

[tastyspoonjkt]

Desi Dhaba Style Bhindi Masala | Quick & Easy | Bachelor's Favourite | Arpi's Kitchen Dhaba food means heavily spiced on a wooden plank and the cots, now replaced by tables and chairs. The food is typically inexpensive and has a 'homemade' feel to it. Try this Dhaba Style Bhindi Masala is a semi gravy side dish from Punjab made with sautéed bhindi (okra) cooked in a spicy masala that goes very well with chapatis, rotis or phulka. https://youtu.be/s4563X8s-Cg Please Subscribe, Like, Comment and Share. Thanks for Watching. #bhindimasala #bhindi #bhindyfry #bhindimasalarecipe #okra #recipe #recipes #dhabastyle #dhabafood #desi #desifood #arpiskitchen #tastyspoon #tastyspoonrecipesfromarpiskitchen #homecooking #indianfoodlovers #bachelorfood #bachelorstyle https://www.instagram.com/p/CBfDCrHH9vI/?igshid=1ucyapz7tp6ue

[neeharikacreations]

Bhindi Rice Recipe👌😋 | Lunch Box Recipe | బెండకాయ రైస్ | Bendakaya Rice Recipe | Tasty Okra Rice

[goldwingsartsinstitute]

Rajasthani-Style Kurkuri Bhindi: Amp Up Your Meal With This Crispy Bhindi Recipe

Rajasthani-Style Kurkuri Bhindi: Amp Up Your Meal With This Crispy Bhindi Recipe

Whether you call it bhindi, okra, or ladies finger, the love for this vegetable is undeniable. This widely found ingredient is easy to cook and quick to make, which makes it a household favourite. And the best part about this veggie is that you can add any flavour to it, and it will adapt to its taste. This is also the reason why we find many regional variations in bhindi. One such variation is…

[wijakartuya]

Masala magic savoury falafal doughnut with masala magic garlic hummus. Falafel Sandwich Wraps - Delicious Middle Eastern Street Food in Istanbul. It is a unique melange of aromatic roasted spices, fortified with Iron, Vitamin A, and Iodine. Cheezy Stuffed Garlic Bread. maggi masala magic to your noodles if you need more spice heat. you may also add it to rice-based pulao, but you may have to skip the cornflour while preparing it. lastly, the combination of spices used in it is very critical to get the best final result. hence i would not recommend trying this recipe if you do.

If we are going to stay friends, you have to try this out. A wide variety of magic masala options are available to you, such as fda, iso, and haccp. With these Maggi masala sachets, you can make dishes such as aloo gobhi, bhindi, dal, etc., taste a lot more flavourful and delicious. You can cook Masala magic savoury falafal doughnut with masala magic garlic hummus using 20 ingredients and 6 steps. Here is how you cook it.

Ingredients of Masala magic savoury falafal doughnut with masala magic garlic hummus

You need 1 cup of chickpeas soaked.

You need 1/2 cup of finely chopped onions.

You need 1 tsp of chopped garlic.

Prepare 2 tsp of chopped coriander leaves.

Prepare 2 tsp of chopped parsley.

You need of Salt as per taste as masala e magic has salt in it.

You need 1 tsp of black pepper powder.

It's 2 tsp of oil oil.

You need 3 tsp of oats flour.

Prepare 1 tsp of Maggi masala e magic.

Prepare 1/4 tsp of baking powder.

You need 1/4 tsp of flax seeds powder.

It's of For hummus.

You need 1 cup of soaked chickpeas.

It's 2 of garlic cloves.

Prepare 1/2 tsp of lemon juice.

Prepare of Salt as per taste as masala e magic has salt.

It's 1/2 cup of tahini.

Prepare 2 tbsp of oliv oil.

It's 1/3 cup of water.

All reviews masala garlic naan lamb rogan josh curries papdi chaat gulab jamun chicken mango kebab thai food best indian just like home vegetarian options amazing food friendly owner spice level quick service. The Magic masal had an excellent range of vegetarian dishes. Find out what's popular at Masala Magic in Warszawa, Województwo mazowieckie in real-time and see activity. Falafel (/fəˈlɑːfəl/; Arabic: فلافل‎, [fæˈlæːfɪl] (listen)) is a deep-fried ball or patty-shaped fritter made from ground chickpeas, fava beans, or both.

Masala magic savoury falafal doughnut with masala magic garlic hummus step by step

First soaked the chickpeas overnight then in a blender add chickpeas, garlic, onions, coriander leaves, parsley leaves.

Grind until smooth then add baking powder, oats flour,flax seed powder and Maggi masala e magic.

Blend it in a blender until everything well combined, once done take spoon full of mixture and give it a donuts shape,.

Now put them in a greased tray brush it with olive oil, now bake it in a preheated oven at 375 degree Fahrenheit until crispy golden brown in colour.

For hummus Drained and rinse the chickpeas in a colander, now in a blender add chickpeas, garlic, tahini In a blender put chickpeas, garlic, lemon juice, water blend it until smooth and thick.

Once done transfer this in a bowl pour oliv oil, Maggi masala e magic served this with falafal.

Delicious, easy & healthy masala chevdo MIX pav bhaji crostinis with gluten free cucumber rounds option curried pumpkin apple soup shots. Uppma ~ savoury breakfast porridge garam masala omelette masala french toast. Apply the mix on bread properly with all sides covered or both the sides. Using canned chickpeas makes them taste like mushy fried hummus balls instead of crispy, light Serve with your choice of accompaniments, such as hummus, tahini, Israeli salad and pickles. I was hoping t find a falafal recipe, thank you so much.

[readitonce-official]

Bhindi Fry - South African Food

Bhindi Fry – South African Food

This Indian Recipe Serves 1-2   Bhindi Fry is an Indian vegetarian dish. It is a quick & easy meal which is very nutritious. This meal is also vegan friendly. Bhindi is the Indian term for this long, green & slimy vegetable. It is often referred to as Okra, Ladies’ Fingers, Ochro or Bamya (Arabic). This vegetable can be prepared however you prefer, be it as a curry, deep fried or simply fried in…

[2minuterecepies]

Okra Soup Recipe | How to make perfect, healthy, quick and easy Bhindi k...

[deliciousrecipesposts]

Indian Fried Okra Recipe Fried Okra Crispy Okra Fried Vegetables Quick and Easy Bhindi Okra How to make bhindi masala okra recipe punjabi bhindi masala bhindi recipe pakistani simple bhindi recipe bhindi fry with curry bhindi fry with onion bhindi masala fry whole fried okra texas fried okra recipe pan fried okra recipe frozen fried okra fried okra without egg crispy fried okra african fried okra fried okra near me

[blendopedia]

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Another day into the vegetarian week, recipe for Aloo gavar/potato and cluster bean. Another quick and easy recipe for everyday Indian cooking. Use this tadka for any Indian vegetable like Bhindi, Suran, Aloo shimla mirch, Raw plantain, snake gourd etc and make yourself a meal in 30 min. subscribe to my youtube channel - Blendopedia : https://youtu.be/PAFYvHEtFTc

[easyfoodnetwork]

Reclaiming Indian Food from the White Gaze

Shutterstock

The same food I was teased for as a kid has become gentrified and endorsed by Goop. Now, I’m using my cookbook to change the narrative.

This is Eater Voices, where chefs, restaurateurs, writers, and industry insiders share their perspectives about the food world, tackling a range of topics through the lens of personal experience. First-time writer? Don’t worry, we’ll pair you with an editor to make sure your piece hits the mark. If you want to write an Eater Voices essay, please send us a couple paragraphs explaining what you want to write about and why you are the person to write it to voices@eater.com.

Once we’d been at home for three months, I finally gave in — not to sourdough, but to starting a quarantine cookbook. At first, it seemed like a fun and lighthearted activity, a way to connect with friends over what we were making. But it turned out to be more emotional than I expected. As an Indian woman working to love my culture in a world that has stolen it from me, food gets very personal.

I was never taught how to cook as a child. My parents don’t cook very often; their specialty is chili cheese toast, and I don’t know any passed-down family recipes. Instead, I learned the basics from Chitra Agrawal’s Vibrant India when I was 21. But even though I was brought up on Indian food, I learned about it through the white gaze.

For many people of color, food can be a source of pride and shame. Growing up, I was mocked for how Indian food affected white people’s digestion. Whenever I went to a British friend’s house for playdates, her mom proudly told me when they ordered Indian food (always curry) and how she was so relieved that this particular restaurant didn’t give her stomach problems. She wanted a pat on the back for bravely ordering ethnic food, but by othering my culture and expecting my validation, she made me uncomfortable.

Slowly, I started absorbing the stigma that others attached to my culture. In fifth grade, my mom submitted a chicken tikka masala recipe to our class cookbook even though we are vegetarians, because it’s always been easier to give the people what they want than to try to educate them. In 10th grade, eating bhindi stained my braces green. In college, my favorite snack was papad, but when my friends started to sniff the air after I made it, I learned to be self-conscious about its smell. As an adult, even my own home could make me feel judged: Whenever I made tadka in my Brooklyn kitchen, the mustard seeds tempering in ghee set off the smoke detector.

But the same recipes I was teased for eventually became chic, gentrified, and endorsed by Goop. Their popularity in the hands of white tastemakers made me realize that people didn’t want to see a brown face behind brown food. I met people who were hesitant to try my homemade nimbu pani, but would happily pay $6 for South Indian filter coffee made by a white woman at Smorgasburg. It’s never been an equal playing field: Brown chefs are expected to cook their own food, but white chefs can cook whatever they want.

I’ve also seen the effects of colonialism in how people explain my own culture back to me, with no awareness of the power dynamics. This happens a lot at restaurants. At Manhattan’s Bombay Bread Bar, a white server felt compelled to explain kulcha to me; farther downtown at Janam Tea, my Pakistani friend and I received a lecture from a white woman who proudly told us how she was bringing Indian tea to the West, without any humility around claiming expertise of a culture that is not her own.

For years, I’ve been working to address culinary imperialism and reclaim my love of Indian food from the white gaze. But while I have been enjoying teaching myself traditional recipes, I often get stuck when none of the options online are written by brown people. It’s become so trendy to remove Indian food from its cultural context — the New York Times’ masoor dal recipe includes sweet potatoes, which would alarm any auntie — that it’s hard to know what’s authentic as someone who’s still learning.

It doesn’t help that in the West, people view Indian food through the lens of takeout, which shortchanges the craft behind it. Many recipes are extremely intricate, with over 10 ingredients and hours of prep and stove time. Even a simple meal requires a quick sequence of actions, serious focus, and lots of multitasking (cue the smoke detector). And yet that effort is often erased by what is familiar: My roommates are cautious about tasting new recipes that I make, and instead keep ordering their usual garlic naan and vindaloo. For all of the parts of my culture that people love, it’s sad to see how much fear still exists.

It’s also jarring to see how the language around Indian food has changed over time, with new recipes branded as ayurvedic, vegan, and cleansing in order to seem more approachable. Ghee, which I grew up thinking was an indulgence, is now a superfood. Khichdi, one of my childhood comfort foods, has been co-opted as kitchari, the latest detox cleanse.

This kind of language belongs to modern wellness culture, which has also made me distance myself from Indian traditions. I would love to learn yoga or meditation, but don’t feel like I have access to them anymore: It’s too painful to learn about my culture from people who can’t pronounce “namaste” (nuh-mus-teh) or “mantra” (mun-tra). “Namaste” is a word that no longer even belongs to us: I cringe when I hear it used in all sorts of inappropriate situations, like as a catchphrase to “namastay in bed.” Its loss echoes the one I felt my first year in New York, when I attended a Diwali puja (prayer service) only to feel sick to my stomach when I realized that I was the only brown person in the room. It’s traumatic to see your culture taken from you.

The same recipes I was teased for eventually became chic, gentrified, and endorsed by Goop. Their popularity in the hands of white tastemakers made me realize that people didn’t want to see a brown face behind brown food.

Still, I’m working to not let my baggage stop me. Three years ago, I went to Patel Brothers, the iconic store in Jackson Heights, to start my spice collection and happily buy katoris that remind me of home. As I learned to cook, I sent my parents photos of pongal, puchka, and pakoras on WhatsApp, hoping that one day I could cook for them. I joined a dinner club, which became my testing ground for new recipes (I was the only person of color), and shared leftovers with my South Asian coworkers for the real verdict. Over Thanksgiving, I observed my aunt’s chai-making process to figure out why my chai tasted like a mouthful of ginger (crushing instead of grating was the trick). I even started improvising with spices, adding chaat masala to popcorn, cucumber, and scrambled eggs.

After going through this journey to reclaim my culture, every decision for my quarantine cookbook feels critical: Each is a chance to change the narrative, even if it’s just for myself. For weeks, I’ve been compiling global recipes from my community, finding ways to bring out personal stories and enjoying the opportunity to learn more about my friends. All of them submitted one or two recipes, mostly ones that are meaningful to them and have been passed down in their families. As the cookbook’s curator, I knew that my recipe would say something about me, and felt a familiar existential crisis coming. If I chose Indian food, I would feel a responsibility to dispel myths, provide regional nuances, and compensate for whitewashed food descriptions (I refuse to call a dosa a sourdough crepe). But if I chose a recipe from a different culture, I would feel like a sellout.

This dilemma reflected a larger one: Representing my culture always feels somewhat performative. In many ways, I’m happy to educate. It’s incredibly important to learn about food from people who come from its culture. But the pantomime required to cheerfully explain the basics and provide emotional reassurance so that other people can get over their fears and assumptions is exhausting.

For this reason, I’ve never felt fully comfortable going to Indian restaurants with non-South Asians. I know that, in some way, I will be responsible for translating the menu, affirming people’s choices, advising on spice levels, teaching them how to eat with their hands, and commenting on whether the food is authentic — a temporary tour guide. But it feels strange to be considered an authority when I don’t always recognize what’s on the menu. There are dozens of regional cuisines within India, but in the U.S., only a handful of North Indian dishes are mainstream, and many of us didn’t grow up eating them. People are always shocked when I tell them that I don’t eat curry, but they don’t understand that there’s so much more to Indian food that I’ve never felt like I was missing out.

This emotional labor is why, without realizing it, I left writing my own cookbook recipe to the last minute. I was delaying the carefully calculated decisions of how to translate ingredients, whether to pick a familiar or niche recipe, and how much to educate. Ultimately I picked chana masala, partly because it’s one of my favorite easy dishes and partly because I wanted it to serve as a wake-up call for people who don’t know the cultural roots of The Stew.

For the introduction, I wrote about how my dad calls me luchi, the Bengali word for puri, a puffy round flatbread that is served with chana masala to make one of my favorite dishes, chole bhature. I explained how, when I was young, I would get excited to order it at restaurants and poke the puri so it would deflate. Now, it’s really special to realize that I can make the chana myself. In writing about this, I found a way to speak about Indian food in a way that felt genuine to me.

Now I’m back in India, and it feels like a dream to not have to carry around the armor. I finally feel like I can learn without judgment, and have already warned various aunties that I’m coming over to cook after quarantine ends. I’m working to sink my feet into the spaces my ancestors created, to unconditionally love where I come from and give myself permission to explore it. It’s always going to be a process, but I want to decolonize my mind and take my power back.

Nayantara Dutta is a writer, strategist, and third culture kid. You can find her @nayantaradutta.

from Eater - All https://ift.tt/3gpntXd https://ift.tt/2Zn7Ok5

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The same food I was teased for as a kid has become gentrified and endorsed by Goop. Now, I’m using my cookbook to change the narrative.

This is Eater Voices, where chefs, restaurateurs, writers, and industry insiders share their perspectives about the food world, tackling a range of topics through the lens of personal experience. First-time writer? Don’t worry, we’ll pair you with an editor to make sure your piece hits the mark. If you want to write an Eater Voices essay, please send us a couple paragraphs explaining what you want to write about and why you are the person to write it to voices@eater.com.

Once we’d been at home for three months, I finally gave in — not to sourdough, but to starting a quarantine cookbook. At first, it seemed like a fun and lighthearted activity, a way to connect with friends over what we were making. But it turned out to be more emotional than I expected. As an Indian woman working to love my culture in a world that has stolen it from me, food gets very personal.

I was never taught how to cook as a child. My parents don’t cook very often; their specialty is chili cheese toast, and I don’t know any passed-down family recipes. Instead, I learned the basics from Chitra Agrawal’s Vibrant India when I was 21. But even though I was brought up on Indian food, I learned about it through the white gaze.

For many people of color, food can be a source of pride and shame. Growing up, I was mocked for how Indian food affected white people’s digestion. Whenever I went to a British friend’s house for playdates, her mom proudly told me when they ordered Indian food (always curry) and how she was so relieved that this particular restaurant didn’t give her stomach problems. She wanted a pat on the back for bravely ordering ethnic food, but by othering my culture and expecting my validation, she made me uncomfortable.

Slowly, I started absorbing the stigma that others attached to my culture. In fifth grade, my mom submitted a chicken tikka masala recipe to our class cookbook even though we are vegetarians, because it’s always been easier to give the people what they want than to try to educate them. In 10th grade, eating bhindi stained my braces green. In college, my favorite snack was papad, but when my friends started to sniff the air after I made it, I learned to be self-conscious about its smell. As an adult, even my own home could make me feel judged: Whenever I made tadka in my Brooklyn kitchen, the mustard seeds tempering in ghee set off the smoke detector.

But the same recipes I was teased for eventually became chic, gentrified, and endorsed by Goop. Their popularity in the hands of white tastemakers made me realize that people didn’t want to see a brown face behind brown food. I met people who were hesitant to try my homemade nimbu pani, but would happily pay $6 for South Indian filter coffee made by a white woman at Smorgasburg. It’s never been an equal playing field: Brown chefs are expected to cook their own food, but white chefs can cook whatever they want.

I’ve also seen the effects of colonialism in how people explain my own culture back to me, with no awareness of the power dynamics. This happens a lot at restaurants. At Manhattan’s Bombay Bread Bar, a white server felt compelled to explain kulcha to me; farther downtown at Janam Tea, my Pakistani friend and I received a lecture from a white woman who proudly told us how she was bringing Indian tea to the West, without any humility around claiming expertise of a culture that is not her own.

For years, I’ve been working to address culinary imperialism and reclaim my love of Indian food from the white gaze. But while I have been enjoying teaching myself traditional recipes, I often get stuck when none of the options online are written by brown people. It’s become so trendy to remove Indian food from its cultural context — the New York Times’ masoor dal recipe includes sweet potatoes, which would alarm any auntie — that it’s hard to know what’s authentic as someone who’s still learning.

It doesn’t help that in the West, people view Indian food through the lens of takeout, which shortchanges the craft behind it. Many recipes are extremely intricate, with over 10 ingredients and hours of prep and stove time. Even a simple meal requires a quick sequence of actions, serious focus, and lots of multitasking (cue the smoke detector). And yet that effort is often erased by what is familiar: My roommates are cautious about tasting new recipes that I make, and instead keep ordering their usual garlic naan and vindaloo. For all of the parts of my culture that people love, it’s sad to see how much fear still exists.

It’s also jarring to see how the language around Indian food has changed over time, with new recipes branded as ayurvedic, vegan, and cleansing in order to seem more approachable. Ghee, which I grew up thinking was an indulgence, is now a superfood. Khichdi, one of my childhood comfort foods, has been co-opted as kitchari, the latest detox cleanse.

This kind of language belongs to modern wellness culture, which has also made me distance myself from Indian traditions. I would love to learn yoga or meditation, but don’t feel like I have access to them anymore: It’s too painful to learn about my culture from people who can’t pronounce “namaste” (nuh-mus-teh) or “mantra” (mun-tra). “Namaste” is a word that no longer even belongs to us: I cringe when I hear it used in all sorts of inappropriate situations, like as a catchphrase to “namastay in bed.” Its loss echoes the one I felt my first year in New York, when I attended a Diwali puja (prayer service) only to feel sick to my stomach when I realized that I was the only brown person in the room. It’s traumatic to see your culture taken from you.

The same recipes I was teased for eventually became chic, gentrified, and endorsed by Goop. Their popularity in the hands of white tastemakers made me realize that people didn’t want to see a brown face behind brown food.

Still, I’m working to not let my baggage stop me. Three years ago, I went to Patel Brothers, the iconic store in Jackson Heights, to start my spice collection and happily buy katoris that remind me of home. As I learned to cook, I sent my parents photos of pongal, puchka, and pakoras on WhatsApp, hoping that one day I could cook for them. I joined a dinner club, which became my testing ground for new recipes (I was the only person of color), and shared leftovers with my South Asian coworkers for the real verdict. Over Thanksgiving, I observed my aunt’s chai-making process to figure out why my chai tasted like a mouthful of ginger (crushing instead of grating was the trick). I even started improvising with spices, adding chaat masala to popcorn, cucumber, and scrambled eggs.

After going through this journey to reclaim my culture, every decision for my quarantine cookbook feels critical: Each is a chance to change the narrative, even if it’s just for myself. For weeks, I’ve been compiling global recipes from my community, finding ways to bring out personal stories and enjoying the opportunity to learn more about my friends. All of them submitted one or two recipes, mostly ones that are meaningful to them and have been passed down in their families. As the cookbook’s curator, I knew that my recipe would say something about me, and felt a familiar existential crisis coming. If I chose Indian food, I would feel a responsibility to dispel myths, provide regional nuances, and compensate for whitewashed food descriptions (I refuse to call a dosa a sourdough crepe). But if I chose a recipe from a different culture, I would feel like a sellout.

This dilemma reflected a larger one: Representing my culture always feels somewhat performative. In many ways, I’m happy to educate. It’s incredibly important to learn about food from people who come from its culture. But the pantomime required to cheerfully explain the basics and provide emotional reassurance so that other people can get over their fears and assumptions is exhausting.

For this reason, I’ve never felt fully comfortable going to Indian restaurants with non-South Asians. I know that, in some way, I will be responsible for translating the menu, affirming people’s choices, advising on spice levels, teaching them how to eat with their hands, and commenting on whether the food is authentic — a temporary tour guide. But it feels strange to be considered an authority when I don’t always recognize what’s on the menu. There are dozens of regional cuisines within India, but in the U.S., only a handful of North Indian dishes are mainstream, and many of us didn’t grow up eating them. People are always shocked when I tell them that I don’t eat curry, but they don’t understand that there’s so much more to Indian food that I’ve never felt like I was missing out.

This emotional labor is why, without realizing it, I left writing my own cookbook recipe to the last minute. I was delaying the carefully calculated decisions of how to translate ingredients, whether to pick a familiar or niche recipe, and how much to educate. Ultimately I picked chana masala, partly because it’s one of my favorite easy dishes and partly because I wanted it to serve as a wake-up call for people who don’t know the cultural roots of The Stew.

For the introduction, I wrote about how my dad calls me luchi, the Bengali word for puri, a puffy round flatbread that is served with chana masala to make one of my favorite dishes, chole bhature. I explained how, when I was young, I would get excited to order it at restaurants and poke the puri so it would deflate. Now, it’s really special to realize that I can make the chana myself. In writing about this, I found a way to speak about Indian food in a way that felt genuine to me.

Now I’m back in India, and it feels like a dream to not have to carry around the armor. I finally feel like I can learn without judgment, and have already warned various aunties that I’m coming over to cook after quarantine ends. I’m working to sink my feet into the spaces my ancestors created, to unconditionally love where I come from and give myself permission to explore it. It’s always going to be a process, but I want to decolonize my mind and take my power back.

Nayantara Dutta is a writer, strategist, and third culture kid. You can find her @nayantaradutta.

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