Feels like home: 'This dish has made me cry on many, many occasions'

Indian kadhi is profound for Gunjan Aylawadi from Sydney's Flyover Fritterie. It inspires many tears and FaceTime chats with family.

This dish can tell you a lot about the person making it. Source: Flyover Fritterie

For Gunjan Aylawadi, food cravings aren’t generic. They conjure certain flavours and textures. They coalesce around a specific dish. Growing up in India's Delhi, Aylawadi would regularly spend Saturday afternoons eating kadhi, a silky concoction of yoghurt and besan or chickpea flour simmered with spices and crowned with crunchy pakoras. She’s been trying to recreate it ever since.

“This dish has made me cry on many many occasions – I have such a strong longing for it and have tried to make it so many times,” Aylawadi says and laughs. “I’ve had countless Facetimes with my mother-in-law, who cooks the best kadhi. When she was visiting, I asked her: ‘show me how you make it.’ I think she made it five or six times in three weeks!”

Indian food is so often reduced to that colonial catch-all ‘curry.’ Or misunderstood as rich and heavy – less everyday staple than an occasional luxury. Aylawadi challenges these misconceptions at the new split-level Redfern home of Flyover Fritterie, the much-loved laneway eatery that won a citywide following for its pakora and chai.

Here, a Punjabi-style kadhi pakora chawal appears on the summer menu along with small plates featuring Ashtami black chickpeas and bowls of coconut lime khichri, a celebration of India’s breadth of vegetarian regional cuisine.

Kadhi is thought to have originated in Rajasthan, a desert region where cooks historically experimented with dairy. But versions of the dish thrive around the country.

“Every region in India has its own way of making kadhi, and there are variations like the Rajasthani kadhi, Maharashtrian kadhi, Gujarati kadhi and so on. In the north of India, we use a lot of yoghurt. We often give it to kids because it is so fresh, and the cultures are so alive, making it excellent for their gut health.”

Making kadhi, Aylawadi says, is instinctive. It demands tasting, testing, and calibration. It can also reflect the person who’s making it.

I’ve had countless Facetimes with my mother-in-law, who cooks the best kadhi. When she was visiting, I asked her: ‘show me how you make it.’ I think she made it five or six times in three weeks!

“The technicalities of Indian food aren’t well documented,” she says. “It depends on touch and feel. I saw my mother-in-law add salt to the yoghurt and let it sour overnight. When we cook it at Flyover Fritterie, we make it with mustard oil. One of my friend’s mothers used to make a really good kadhi – I didn’t realise that it had such a strong presence of fenugreek seeds. The way someone cooks it brings out a certain spice a bit more.”

For Aylawadi, the dish also speaks to the way Indian food is seasonal and curative.

“We have it on the menu from Feb to March and I associate it with summer holidays,” she says.  “Spices have a dual role – they cool your body down and warm it up. If I make kadhi in winter, I almost can’t taste it. It reflects the medicinal properties of Indian food.”

For Aylawadi, home isn’t necessarily tethered to geography. It’s about the ability to share the rituals with which she grew up. “I remember when my son was born, I made kadhi and although it was so spicy, he polished off the whole pan,” she says. “It meant so much to see my child show such a love for this dish that his parents were eating.  There was such a strong connection. He was one with the dish.”

Teaching her staff how to make kadhi represents another kind of homecoming.

“The day Soniya [a cook at Flyover] made kadhi, I gave her the tightest hug,” she smiles. “Kadhi shows me who my people are, she almost feels like a blood relation. When people live away from home, there is no other way to anchor yourself. So, it is a very big deal for me to be able to do this.”

 

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Punjabi Kadhi pakora chawal

Serves 4

Crunchy vegetable pakoras dunked in a tangy yoghurt-based gravy, eaten with basmati rice. A wonderful way to use up sour yoghurt. It’s a summer favourite dish and a weekend ritual in most households. We eat many ladles full on top of freshly steamed rice, followed by a long siesta.

Ingredients

Kadhi

• 1½ cups plain yoghurt
• ½ cup besan
• ½ tsp red chilli powder
• ½ tsp turmeric powder
• 1 tsp coriander powder
• 2 tbsp mustard oil
• ½ tsp fenugreek seeds
• ½ tsp cumin seeds
• 10 fresh or dried curry leaves
• ¼ tsp asafoetida
• 1 small Spanish onion, chopped finely
• 1 small green chilli, chopped (optional)
• 1½ tbsp grated ginger
• 1½ tbsp grated garlic
• ¼ cup chopped coriander
• 2 tsp salt, or to taste

Pakoras

• 1 cup besan
• 1 large Spanish onion, thinly sliced
• A pinch red chilli powder
• ¼ tsp Ajwain (optional)
• ½ tsp salt
• 1 pinch of baking soda
• Vegetable or sunflower oil for frying

Tadka

• 2 tbsp ghee
• ¼ tsp cumin seeds
• 2 whole dried Kashmiri chillies
• ½ tsp red chilli powder
• Fried curry leaves for serving (optional)

Method

1. To prepare the kadhi, leave the yoghurt out of the refrigerator until it reaches room temperature. If possible, use older, sour yoghurt.
2. In a large bowl, mix the besan with the yoghurt, chilli powder, turmeric powder, and coriander powder. Whisk until well combined and smooth in texture.
3. Add 6 cups of water and whisk till well combined. Set aside.
4. In a deep pot over high heat, add mustard oil. Let the oil heat up for 1 minute, to prevent the kadhi from tasting raw and bitter. Lower the heat for 1 minute, to let the oil come to a slightly lower temperature.
5. Add the fenugreek seeds, cumin seeds, curry leaves and asafoetida until they lightly splutter. Be careful not to burn the spices.
6. Add the chopped onion, green chilli, ginger and garlic and fry lightly (around 3-4 minutes or until the onions start to brown).
7. Add the whisked besan yoghurt water mixture to this pot.
8. Over medium-high heat, stir the mixture often till the kadhi comes to a boil. Add salt and lower the heat to low medium.
9. Let the kadhi cook until it thickens slightly and the bubbles become sparse and small (around 30-40 minutes). Keep stirring every 5-6 minutes.
10. While the kadhi is boiling, start preparing the pakoras.
11. In a large bowl, add the besan, onion, red chilli powder, ajwain and salt.
12. Start adding ¼ cup water, bit by bit, to make a thick batter. Add a little more water if the batter is too dense.
13. Add the baking soda and mix well.
14. Pour enough oil into a large frying pan until the oil reaches a 5cm-high depth. Turn the heat to medium-high.
15. When the oil is hot, gently drop small balls of batter into the pan using two spoons.
16. Cook pakoras on medium-low heat, turning them to ensure they're cooked on all sides. They're ready when they're cooked through and golden brown.
17. Remove the cooked pakoras from the pan and drain them on a paper towel.
18. After 30-40 minutes, the kadhi should have thickened considerably and the bubbles have become sparse and small. Add most of the coriander and the pakora and transfer the kadhi into a serving pan.
19.  For the tadka, heat the ghee in a small pan over medium heat.
20. Once hot, add cumin seeds and red chillies.
21. When the seeds start to crackle, add red chilli powder and turn off the heat immediately.
22. Pour the tadka over the kadhi, garnish with the remaining coriander and fried curry leaves, and serve with rice.