Author: Rahul Verma
Publication: The Hindu
Date: September 23, 2017
URL:    http://www.thehindu.com/life-and-style/food/the-joy-of-puja-platter/article19743227.ece?utm_source=email&utm_medium=Email&utm_campaign=Newsletter

From moruala to moong dal, Iti Aunty’s thaala at Monkey Bar brings a range of delectable options to the table

I have not met Aunty Iti, but I sure would like to. I can imagine what her dining table would look like – laden with some of the best known dishes of Bengal, from fish and mutton preparations, to fries and cutlets, stuffed vegetables and chutneys.

Being a card-holding feminist – let me remind new readers that I protested in front of a Miss India pageant many years ago – I do not belong to that school of thought which states that the best chefs are always men. Though some of my best friends are men who cook, and rather well, I hold with high regard women who have been cooking delicious stuff – and writing about it, too. Consider all these names from Bengal – Bunny Gupta, Jaya Chaliha, Minakshie Das Gupta, Chitrita Banerjee, Satarupa Banerjee. I rely on their books whenever I want to try out something interesting from Bengal.

And now I think I need to get some recipes out of Iti Aunty, who is based in Kolkata and is known to wield a mean ladle. I had a special thaala – that’s thaali in Bengali – curated by her at the Monkey Bar the other evening, and have been licking my fingers ever since. The festival – on from tomorrow (September 24) to September 30 – is a Puja special that also seeks to celebrate what is called pate puja in Bengal, or worshipping the stomach.

I am, as you know, very fond of the Monkey Bar. The CP outlet has shut down, but the one in the Vasant Kunj Market is so full of life that I feel years younger whenever I am there. There’s loud music, no doubt, but the lights that glitter from funky chandeliers, the great menu and the friendly staff all make for a very happy meal.

And I had a very, very happy meal when I was invited to try out ‘Iti Aunty’s Pujor Special Thaala’. There are three kinds of platters on offer – with fish (₹ 1299 plus taxes), with chicken (₹ 1199 plus taxes), and vegetarian (₹ 999 plus taxes). Every thaala has in common aloor dom, a Bengali variation of dum aloo, flavoured with cumin and other spices, begun kasundi, which is an eggplant dish with a sharp mustard flavour, plastic chutney, cooked with raw papayas, and tomato chutney.

I opted for the fish thhaala which also included fish kachori, bhoona khichri with fried mourola fish, steamed prawns wrapped in pumpkin leaves, fish cutlet and kamala bhetki. Each one was delicious.

The gravy in the kamala bhetki was lightly flavoured with oranges, so it was mildly sweet, as Bengali food can be. The prawns were sharp with mustard and the fish cutlet – with mashed boneless fish mixed with potato, crumbed and fried – was just right.

I have had various kinds of kachoris, or Bengali kochuris, but the fish kochuri was one of a kind, with a filling of mashed bhetki. The kachori, soft and puffy like a puri, was absolutely superb. I enjoyed the khichri immensely, too. It had been cooked with the fragrant gobindo bhog rice and moong dal, flavoured with ghee and topped with fried onions and fried mourala fish.

Mourala is a small fish that I think is best eaten when fried with just a coating of salt, chillies and turmeric. Here they had put a besan batter around the fish. The problem with the fish is that it has to be eaten fresh off the kadhai, because if kept out for a while, it goes limp in this weather.

The kasundi – a strong and mildly bitter mustard sauce – gave the begun kasundi a nice kick and I happily finished off the plastic chutney – so called because of its light, translucent look.

The chicken thaala includes mughlai porotas, flaky, fried bread that Calcutta is known for, bhoona khichuri with chicken meatballs, chicken chop, chicken kosha and omelette curry, which is a great Bengali favourite of omelette pieces in a light gravy.

The vegetarian thaala has luchi, or maida puris, parwal stuffed with cottage cheese, dhokar dalna, steamed dal cakes in gravy, sukto, a light vegetable mix, mildly bitter and sweet, steamed rice, apart from the four common dishes.

The platter didn’t come with a sweet. I told Chef Himmat, the man on the spot, he’d have a mini Bengali rebellion at hand if there was no dessert. I got a call yesterday to say that mishti doi has now been added to the platter – which I think is a great idea.

This may sound corny, but I have just two words for the festival – De taali.