As summer draws to a close, we visit each year with my husband’s family in the heartland. Iowa City – bastion of learning, art and culture in the midst of mile upon mile of corn and soybean fields. This is where my in-laws settled more than forty years ago – from big city India to university town in rural Iowa. They brought very little of material significance with them besides a few clothes, but a wealth of culinary tradition that has remained vital over many passing years. We fondly refer to my husband’s boyhood home as “the house of food”. This is a place where fabulous, flavorful food is produced day or night, whether you’re hungry or not – a show of love and caring for family and friends. Upon arrival, my sister-in-law greets us with a warm hug and proclamation, “let the eating begin”.
Growing up, my husband and his sister were fed Indian food pretty much every meal, every day (with the occasional slice of pizza for variety). This legacy works well for me, despite my plain mid-western roots. I know my aloo saag (potatoes with greens) from my aloo palak (potatoes with spinach) and have always embraced the foods cherished by my husband and his family. Well, for the most part. There’s one practice that took me a long while to warm up to – sprinkling a salty spice blend called chaat masala on fresh cut fruit and vegetables. Though normally an adventurous eater, when the chaat masala came out of the cupboard, I found myself feeling like a finicky toddler – refusing to take even the smallest bite. I just couldn’t make sense out of the mix between salt, spice and the sweet juicy fruit or fresh vegetables. It didn’t help that to my sensitive nose the stuff smelled a bit odd – kind of stinky really. I’m the first to admit the boiled vegetables of my youth might seem similarly suspicious to a stranger’s palate. Cuisines throughout the world have treasured morsels puzzling to outsiders, so called “acquired tastes”. For me, chaat masala was one of those.
Luckily, as in all things culinary, eventually curiosity won out. I tried the spice mixture here and there and soon began to crave a little sprinkle now and then. The transformation didn’t surprise me that much – it was like developing a taste for a really strong, smelly cheese. In both cases, defying all logic that something you’d describe as “odorous” can, simultaneously, taste wonderful.
It may sound strange to put salt and spice on something sweet, but trust me, it’s worth trying – you might learn to love it.
More on Chaat Masala…
Chaat masala gets its name from two Hindi words. Masala simply means spice. Chaat is a broad category of savory snacks, often served from roadside stalls and carts, and beloved by all. Chaat dishes bring together a uniquely complex mix of flavors – sweet, sour, spicy and salty – and always flavored with the masala that bears its name. Chaat masala is sprinkled liberally on all sorts of everyday foods, snacks, fruits, vegetables and drinks. Formulas for the spice mixture vary from household to household, but typically contain amchoor (dried mango powder), kala namak (black salt – a grayish pink rock salt) and dry-roasted cumin seeds. Black salt gives the blend a sulfur-like odor, one that might seem unpleasant to the untrained nose, however, when added to foods, this same ingredient lends a delightful tang and fragrance that is unmistakable.
Finding chaat masala in the bay area is simple enough, just drive to an Indian grocery store (I have three within a short drive) and locate the spice aisle. Yes, it takes an entire aisle to house all the spices, and you’ll enjoy browsing, so allow some extra time. Chaat masala comes in a box – the MDH brand is a good one to choose. While you’re browsing consider picking up some other spices as well – much cheaper than Safeway. I buy large bags of cumin and coriander seed, fill my small spice containers on the shelf, and then store the rest in the freezer.
If you’re feeling adventuresome, make your own chaat masala by grinding whole spices. It’s not difficult, and will certainly be the freshest way to go.
Recipes for the Week:
Watermelon Salad with Cucumber, Radish and Lime
