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There is an old saying ‘Faqat daal roti baki sab baat khoti ’ that roughly translates roti and daal are what matters in life, the rest is all knavery. Daal-roti is indeed synonymous with sustenance as is daal-bhaat. What is common is daal, lentils, are a rich source of vegetable protein. It is pity that for most of us daal comes in just two hues, black and yellow. We order kali or pili dal and think we have exercised an option! Kali of course is the ubiquitous makhani mah di daal with dollops of killing butter islets floating happily in streams of cream. Its acme is daal bukhara that has attained the status of a culinary brand ambassador. Good friend Raminder Singh, arguably the most gifted chef of his generation, tells us that the trick is to start with the lentils called bambhola and wash it repeatedly before extremely slow cooking. Ideally, nothing should blemish the blend of mash-rajma, tomato puree and garlic ginger paste. The term makhani incidentally refers to the satiny texture not the fat! If you can’t do without the grease ask your lentils to be fired at a the roadside dhaba. Pili means arhar or tuvar daal, which tastes best sans frills and unselfconsciously changing with seasons — just a dash of garlic in winters, maybe, or a hint of curd or a slice of kairi (raw mango) in summers. It is the staple in eastern Uttar Pradesh. An unforgettable bit of daal lore seeks to establish the superiority of masoor daal over all else. Yeh munh aur masoor ki daal! How dare you dream of savouring this delicacy when you have such a boorish palate? This harks back to the days in Awadh when a nawab employed a chef on a fabulous salary to cook this daal. Actually this is all he had mastered. The day the speciality was prepared the nawab was late for dinner and the offended chef poured the daal on the stump of tree, resigned his job and left the principality. After a few days the old nawab and his subjects were dazed to see that the daal had rejuvenated the dying plant. They searched for the chef in vain. Then there is dhuli urad, molten gold for the lovers of this lentil. It is equally attractive in the dry version khilwan or cooked in cardamom and clove-laced milk. When golden crisp onions top it in company of green chillies with a whisper of digestive hing to reassure you about vata balance can the thought of any other lentil distract you? For us the mixed daal to die for is made by Ghanshyam, a small dhaba owner at Naukuchiyatal near Nainital. Just half kg is prepared every day and it is strictly first come first served. His wife, who actually
cooks, modestly says it has something to do with the local water, we
feel much of the magic is due to tender loving care.
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