Paan
on a Platter
India’s
favourite mouth-freshner need not come after the meal. It can be the meal
When my
great grandfather passed on quite literally gently into the night, it was with
a still-fragrant paan ki gilori tucked into his cheek. A fitting finale to a
fine life, everyone said, towards the end of which he had sat in his great
armchair in the sprawling Moradabad haveli, an immaculate silver paan daan
constantly by his side, doling out fistfuls of rice and lentils to all who
visited in the manner of a kindly lord…
Any talk of paan, the betel leaf common to this part of Asia and so intrinsic to local cultures here, automatically conjours up images of a more leisurely way of life: A time when connoisseurs had the time to cut their leaf to perfection, line it with slacked lime, smear it with the astringent, chocolate-brown katha, and fold it with a host of fragrant accessories — cardamom, clove, mace, nutmeg, camphor and, of course, the areca nut.
Refreshing Twist
But despite the fact that we have now moved so far away from the time of feudal paan daans and all that they symbolised, India’s fascination with the betel leaf has hardly waned. Not only do you still have people indulging in this post-prandial palate-cleanser (after engaging in heated discussions as to the superiority of their favourite leaf — Maghai, desi or Calcutta), but paan per se is now metamorphosing from being just the dolled-up betel leaf to being a popular flavour revving up all manner of food and drink.
If you are a fan of the paan, you do not have to wait till after the meal to pop one in your mouth. Instead, it can be the meal. It is possible to incorporate the flavour in anything from milkshakes to pulaos and have an unusual, refreshing twist to your lunch or dinner. I have often wondered at the possibility of doing paturi or say, the Thaistyle pandan-wrapped chicken using paan leaves (instead of banana and pandanus) but I am not too sure whether chicken and fish will benefit from the treatment. On the other hand, goat meat does go well with the flavour. And one of the most unusual preparations that I have come across recently is the paan patta pulao at Fire, the pan-Indian restaurant at The Park, New Delhi.
I asked chef Anurudh Khanna there for a recipe and it is quite simple to do at home really. The pulao is a subtler preparation than a spicy biryani and thus the flavour of the betel leaf comes across sufficiently well if you just dum the rice and meat, lining these with chopped up betel leaves.
Mojitos, Mocktails and More
If you do not know how to make a basic pulao, my family recipe for our trademark yakhni pulao involves using about 1 kg meat for 750 g of long-grained rice. Make a stock with the meat piece, adding whole spices, onion, garlic and ginger, then when the meat is 60-70% cooked, strain and keep aside. Take the meat pieces and bhuno these in yoghurt and some more onion, garlic, spices, till they are about 80% done. Now layer these with rice, pour the stock (instead of water) and steam in a sealed pot — with betel leaves — till both the rice and meat are perfectly cooked.
Khanna has a host of other interesting suggestions too. You can make a paan mocktail by simply getting a meetha paan made from your favourite shop (lined with gulukand, fennel, the works). Blend this with vanilla ice cream and some freshly crushed black pepper to give a kick to the concoction. Voila!
Or, you can do a paan-flavoured dessert. Milk-based sweets go well with the betel leaf flavour and thus anything from the rasmalai to the rabdi, made from thickened milk, can benefit from such an addition. Put some gulukand and powdered fennel and green cardamom in the dessert bowl. Put the rasmalai over this. Garnish with fried and crumbled paan leaves. And top with rabdi, if you like, for a wonderful, overwhelming end to the meal.
Paan mojitos, of course, have become pretty popular at bars these days and you can make your own additions to the recipe. But you can even spike some crushed ice with vodka, flavour with the betel leaf and serve as a sorbet if you want something fancier.
A recipe for a milkshake that I came across recently seems quite refreshing. Make a paan syrup by grinding the (Calcutta) leaves with sugar and some water. Strain and keep aside. Now make the milkshake with chilled milk, some cut pieces of jelly, falooda (if you like), gulukand and this paan syrup. Not bad for a hot day. When it rains, you could even have paan pakoras (dip the leaves in besan and batter fry) or as Khanna recommends a paan-egg-pakora (dip the leaves in an omelette mixture, dust with cornflour and fry.
Betel Chronicles
The betel leaf comes from the Piper betle, a vine of Southeast Asian origin. Chewing on betel leaves seems to be an ancient practice with skulls dating back to 3000 BC from the Philippines apparently showing stained red teeth! The red colour by the way comes from lining the betel leaf with slacked lime (chuna), which releases an alkaloid that brings the colour on chewing. In India, the paan culture seems to have caught on in south India first (KT Achaya) and the betel leaf is regarded as a symbol of both prosperity and hospitality. In the northern Indian Buddhist literature of 400 BC, the leaf is frequently mentioned as one of the items given to monks at monasteries as part of their daily food allowance. The Muslim rulers of India quickly took to the custom and Ibn Batuta, the 14th century traveller, describes a paan being served at the end of an elaborate palace banquet. In fact, Mohammed bin Tughlak, had apparently set up pavilions in Delhi where any citizen could avail himself of a free paan!
Any talk of paan, the betel leaf common to this part of Asia and so intrinsic to local cultures here, automatically conjours up images of a more leisurely way of life: A time when connoisseurs had the time to cut their leaf to perfection, line it with slacked lime, smear it with the astringent, chocolate-brown katha, and fold it with a host of fragrant accessories — cardamom, clove, mace, nutmeg, camphor and, of course, the areca nut.
Refreshing Twist
But despite the fact that we have now moved so far away from the time of feudal paan daans and all that they symbolised, India’s fascination with the betel leaf has hardly waned. Not only do you still have people indulging in this post-prandial palate-cleanser (after engaging in heated discussions as to the superiority of their favourite leaf — Maghai, desi or Calcutta), but paan per se is now metamorphosing from being just the dolled-up betel leaf to being a popular flavour revving up all manner of food and drink.
If you are a fan of the paan, you do not have to wait till after the meal to pop one in your mouth. Instead, it can be the meal. It is possible to incorporate the flavour in anything from milkshakes to pulaos and have an unusual, refreshing twist to your lunch or dinner. I have often wondered at the possibility of doing paturi or say, the Thaistyle pandan-wrapped chicken using paan leaves (instead of banana and pandanus) but I am not too sure whether chicken and fish will benefit from the treatment. On the other hand, goat meat does go well with the flavour. And one of the most unusual preparations that I have come across recently is the paan patta pulao at Fire, the pan-Indian restaurant at The Park, New Delhi.
I asked chef Anurudh Khanna there for a recipe and it is quite simple to do at home really. The pulao is a subtler preparation than a spicy biryani and thus the flavour of the betel leaf comes across sufficiently well if you just dum the rice and meat, lining these with chopped up betel leaves.
Mojitos, Mocktails and More
If you do not know how to make a basic pulao, my family recipe for our trademark yakhni pulao involves using about 1 kg meat for 750 g of long-grained rice. Make a stock with the meat piece, adding whole spices, onion, garlic and ginger, then when the meat is 60-70% cooked, strain and keep aside. Take the meat pieces and bhuno these in yoghurt and some more onion, garlic, spices, till they are about 80% done. Now layer these with rice, pour the stock (instead of water) and steam in a sealed pot — with betel leaves — till both the rice and meat are perfectly cooked.
Khanna has a host of other interesting suggestions too. You can make a paan mocktail by simply getting a meetha paan made from your favourite shop (lined with gulukand, fennel, the works). Blend this with vanilla ice cream and some freshly crushed black pepper to give a kick to the concoction. Voila!
Or, you can do a paan-flavoured dessert. Milk-based sweets go well with the betel leaf flavour and thus anything from the rasmalai to the rabdi, made from thickened milk, can benefit from such an addition. Put some gulukand and powdered fennel and green cardamom in the dessert bowl. Put the rasmalai over this. Garnish with fried and crumbled paan leaves. And top with rabdi, if you like, for a wonderful, overwhelming end to the meal.
Paan mojitos, of course, have become pretty popular at bars these days and you can make your own additions to the recipe. But you can even spike some crushed ice with vodka, flavour with the betel leaf and serve as a sorbet if you want something fancier.
A recipe for a milkshake that I came across recently seems quite refreshing. Make a paan syrup by grinding the (Calcutta) leaves with sugar and some water. Strain and keep aside. Now make the milkshake with chilled milk, some cut pieces of jelly, falooda (if you like), gulukand and this paan syrup. Not bad for a hot day. When it rains, you could even have paan pakoras (dip the leaves in besan and batter fry) or as Khanna recommends a paan-egg-pakora (dip the leaves in an omelette mixture, dust with cornflour and fry.
Betel Chronicles
The betel leaf comes from the Piper betle, a vine of Southeast Asian origin. Chewing on betel leaves seems to be an ancient practice with skulls dating back to 3000 BC from the Philippines apparently showing stained red teeth! The red colour by the way comes from lining the betel leaf with slacked lime (chuna), which releases an alkaloid that brings the colour on chewing. In India, the paan culture seems to have caught on in south India first (KT Achaya) and the betel leaf is regarded as a symbol of both prosperity and hospitality. In the northern Indian Buddhist literature of 400 BC, the leaf is frequently mentioned as one of the items given to monks at monasteries as part of their daily food allowance. The Muslim rulers of India quickly took to the custom and Ibn Batuta, the 14th century traveller, describes a paan being served at the end of an elaborate palace banquet. In fact, Mohammed bin Tughlak, had apparently set up pavilions in Delhi where any citizen could avail himself of a free paan!
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Anoothi Vishal SET120722
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