The kofta question
I find it hard to resolve a question that tosses back and forth in my head like a ping-pong ball: Is a kofta a meatball or is a meatball a kofta?
The debate began early one summer when I was still in high school. My dad’s best friend’s mother came to stay with us for a few days, and for a kid who loved to eat it was probably one of the best things that happened to us that year.
You see, my dad’s cooking was predominantly vegetarian, since that was what he grew up eating. But “Auntiji” — an affectionate and respectful Indian-ized version of “auntie” — was Punjabi and knew how to cook things that my parents had tasted but never knew how to make. She knew how to deep-fry like no other. She would stir up some of the most amazing stews and desserts and could whip out parathas (flaky textured Indian flatbread) on the stove and slap them silly until they gently blistered.
When she visited, my life transformed for those few days. No longer forced to eat the same boring food at home, I eagerly watched Auntiji cook, and if I behaved well, she’d let me help.
She also made the most delicious koftas, both vegetarian and meat-based — flavorful and seasoned just right, fried and then tossed into a stew.
Like most Indian mothers and grandmothers, Auntiji’s style of cooking was based on intuition and a taste-as-you-go approach rather than clinical kitchen notes. She cooked these recipes often enough to know just how much to season and when the koftas were browned enough to be removed from the hot oil in the kadai (an Indian wok).
Her koftas were perfect — identical in shape, size, color and flavor.
But her koftas also threw my mind into disarray, because my maternal grandmother made her own version, which were similar in concept yet a completely different, delicious culinary beast. And my grandmother called them meatballs.
It’s true that I could have confronted my grandmother to clear the air, but even then, I knew it was a question best avoided. You see, my grandmother was a little competitive when it came to cooking, so confronting her with this question might only be answered with another question: “Whose do you like better?”
And so my brain separated the two words to represent two styles of seasoned ground meat shaped into balls. To me, the European version is meatballs while the more Punjabi and North Indian-style flavored ones are koftas.
Over the years, I’ve made koftas and meatballs more than I can remember and in many ways, inspired by both women. In graduate school, I’d make a large batch and freeze them to last over exam week. I take them to potlucks, sometimes tossed into stews or sauces, or alongside a seasonal fruit chutney. There are times when I fry them, and other times when I bake them, yet I have found that I like a combination of both methods by fully cooking them in the oven followed by a little browning in hot oil.
These koftas have a little bite to them, the warmth of the garam masala and serrano peppers along with the combination of fresh dandelion greens and coriander seeds to bring out those flavors. The apple chutney, on the other hand, is an explosion of salty, sweet, sour and hot.