Pakoras’ golden crunch
The heat never fazed me when it came to piping hot pakoras. It mattered little if I singed my fingertips or scalded my palate when I took a bite. Patience was a useless virtue when faced with this golden nugget. It was fried, it was crispy, and the momentary discomfort was every bit worth it. As soon as my mom pulled a batch of pakoras out of the hot oil in her kadai (an Indian wok) and placed them on the plate, I’d sneak up and grab one. I’d quickly dunk it into a puddle of Maggi Hot and Sweet Tomato Chilli Sauce and pop it into my mouth.
To many Indians, a plate of pakoras and a hot cup of chai go hand in hand. It’s a ritual that’s similar to that of a stack of doughnuts and a steaming cup of coffee in the morning, which I sometimes find myself undertaking at Colonial Donuts in Oakland’s Lakeshore District. And just like stores devoted solely to doughnuts and coffee here in the U.S., the streets in many cities and villages in India are lined with tiny stalls where batches of pakoras are churned out as fast as they are sold. They are served hot on torn sheets of newspaper alongside ketchup or chutneys.
The construction of a pakora is, in itself, an anomaly and a marvel, especially when you take a deeper look at the types of flours commonly used in Indian cooking. Although wheat is used to make flatbreads like roti and naan, you don’t see wheat being used as much in Indian fried foods.
Instead, that role is occupied by besan or gram flour. Besan is made by milling channa dal, or gram, which is closely related to garbanzos, so besan is also loosely referred to as chickpea flour. (Thankfully, the taste differences in the flours are minor and their close familial connection makes chickpea flour an easy substitute for besan.)
My mother starts her pakoras by chopping her chosen vegetable trio (potatoes, cauliflower and red onions) into bite-size bits and then folding them into a bright and sunny batter of besan and water. Once the oil is hot, she fries the coated vegetables until they reach a golden crisp and are ready to eat.
When making my version of pakoras, I didn’t change too much from my mom’s recipe or method. I did, however, throw in for good measure a bit of chopped kale along with shredded carrots, thinly sliced red onions and carom seeds (also known as ajwain), which not only add a unique nutty flavor but also help in digestion. And, of course, some serrano and red chile flkaes — never forget the heat!