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Finding the fresh ingredients needed to create her favorite dishes was a challenge for Dr Niloufer Ichaporia King when she moved to the US in 1971. Having spent her formative years in Bombay, absorbing the traditional culture, she realized that Parsi cuisine is extremely open to innovation (using tilapia and cod instead of pomfret) and that taste is a matter of personal interpretation.

After doing her post­graduation in design and PhD in cultural anthropology from the University of California at Berkely, Ichaporia King authored the James Beard award winning cookbook My Bombay Kitchen featuring traditional and modern Parsi recipes. While her personal favorite is the simple mori dar with chawal, on Parsiana’s request she has shared some recipes with our readers. We are grateful to the author and the University of California Press for permitting us to reprint some of her recipes. Those interested in the book can visit their website www.ucpress.edu

TOMATO AND GINGER 

INFUSION 

This soup was inspired by my aunt Mani’s wonderful tomato and orange drink served before lunch in the days of Prohibition. This tomato-ginger infusion lends itself to being served at any temperature the season and menu suggests. At room temperature, all the flavors get equal attention. 

Serves 6

Tomatoes (3 pounds — ripe of any color)

Ginger (½ cup — grated) 

Salt

Sugar (if necessary)

Orange or tangerine (juice — to taste, optional)

Optional garnishes 

Lime or lemon wedges 

Beaten yogurt or crème fraîche 

Green peas or purple basil leaves

 Cut up the tomatoes roughly and put them into a non-reactive pan with about one cup of water. Bring to a boil, reduce heat and cook gently for about 15 minutes.

If you use a food processor or blender for puréeing the tomatoes, you will need to strain the purée. Otherwise push the tomatoes through a stainless steel strainer or food mill. Save the residue. Moisten it with water and put it through the strainer again to extract every bit of tomato richness.

Thin it to the consistency you want with more water if necessary. Add salt to taste then sugar in pinches if the tomatoes aren’t sweet enough. 

Press the grated ginger through a fine mesh strainer into a bowl, being sure to get all the juice out of the fiber. Stir the ginger juice into the tomato and be prepared for a little jolt. This is as it should be. If your taste tells you to, you can even add a little more.

Let the infusion stand until you’re ready to serve it. This can be prepared hours ahead but the ginger needs to steep for at least half an hour.

When you’re ready to serve, taste the infusion. If you like, you can squeeze orange or tangerine juice into it just before you ladle it into cups or bowls or even into something like a martini glass. Serve with wedges of lime or lemon or a drizzle of yogurt or crème fraîche. If you can find a few tiny peas, throw them raw into the bottom of the bowl. Purple basil makes a good color contrast as a leafy garnish.

KALEJI NO PATÉ

Parsi hostesses love morsels of brightly spiced chicken liver served on toast. This pâté gives you the same effect with no last minute fuss. The technique may be French in origin, but the taste is authentically Indian.

Besides making a first rate hors d’oeuvre, this terrine can be served as the main course of a light lunch, accompanied by crusty bread, some tomato chutney and perhaps a rocket or curly endive salad with fresh figs and chopped toasted almonds.

To fill a 3- to 4-cup terrine, enough for a single hors d’oeuvres for 10 to 12 persons

Chicken livers (1 pound — trimmed, each lobe halved)

Ghee or clarified butter (¼ cup) 

Shallots (1/3 cup — chopped) 

Garam masala (1 tsp)

Chilli powder (½ to 1 tsp)

Salt (1 tsp)

Madeira, sherry (Amontillado), or cognac (¼ cup — to deglaze the pan)

Eggs (3)

Heavy cream (1 cup)

Heat the oven to 350°. 

Very lightly butter a four-cup terrine or soufflé dish and find a pan you can set it in where water can come halfway up the sides.

Pat the livers dry with paper towels. 

Heat half the butter in a sturdy skillet. Add the shallots and let them barely brown. This won’t take long. Remove the shallots from the pan and set aside. Add the remaining butter to the pan, bring it up to a high heat and add the chicken livers and quickly brown them. Remove the livers while they’re still pink inside. Set aside. Turn the burner down and add the garam masala, chilli powder and salt to the pan and stir for a minute until the aroma rises. Deglaze the frying pan with the Madeira, sherry or Cognac. Combine the livers and shallots, the cooking juices, eggs and cream in a food processor and pulse until smooth. Adjust the salt.

Pour into the prepared terrine. Give it a little thump on the counter to settle the contents. Set the terrine in a pan of hot water and put it into the center of the oven. Let the terrine cook for about 45 to 50 minutes, checking it after about 35 minutes. You’ll know the terrine is done when it doesn’t tremble. It will have puffed up a little and have a slightly cracked surface. Be careful not to over bake or over brown. 

Remove the terrine from the hot water bath. Let it stand until cool enough to refrigerate. It is best made a day before you plan to serve it so that the flavors can develop. The pâté keeps for at least a week, getting better every day.

Serve cool, not cold or at room temperature, right out of the terrine, or spread on toast or oven-crisped rotli triangles or plain khakhra.  If it’s a do-it-yourself arrangement, add a bowl of tomato chutney along with the pâté and toast or khakra. If you’re preparing a tray of canapés, put a small dab of chutney on each one.

SHIRIN SABAVALA’S GREEN CHUTNEY SOUFFLE

This is one of those brilliant expressions of Parsi innovation, combining tastes and techniques normally worlds apart. Shirin Sabavala, kind and generous, asked her cook Mutthu to relate it to me, which he did with great accuracy.

Serves 4 to 6

Butter (4 tbsp)

Flour (4 tbsp)

Milk (2 cups)

Eggs (6 — separated)

Parsi green chutney (1 cup)

Salt

Heat oven to 375°.

To make the béchamel: Melt the butter in a small heavy saucepan, and when it starts sizzling, stir in the flour. Cook together for a minute or so, and whisk in the milk. Bring to a boil, reduce heat and cook for a few minutes, whisking constantly, until the sauce is thick and smooth. Off the heat, whisk the egg yolks into the béchamel, one at a time. Stir in the chutney. Check for salt. 

Beat the egg whites with a pinch of salt until stiff. Fold about one-quarter of the egg whites into the soufflé base to lighten the mixture. Follow with the rest of the beaten egg white, folding it in quickly. Pour into an ungreased 6- to 8-cup soufflé dish. Bake for 40 minutes or so. 

Serve as the centerpiece of a lunch for four, along with a salad of cucumbers and some crusty baguette. 

MOTHER’S  MYSTERIOUS TRIFLE

My mother was famous for her trifle made with jerdaloos, the homely looking apricot relative that tastes so rich, and she’d dismiss her efforts with a wave of her well-manicured hand. "It’s nothing. So easy.” What she didn’t tell most people was her special trick in post-Prohibition Bombay of using Drakshasav, a herbal fortified wine sold as an ayurvedic remedy, which made it all right in the eyes of the booze police. You don’t need Drakshasav to reproduce her trifle, even in Bombay where you can get the port or sherry it was originally and subsequently made with, but I particularly enjoyed reproducing it there for enthusiasts who couldn’t even begin to guess the secret ingredient. 

The components are a good sponge cake, jerdaloos, sugar, cream and a fortified wine which could be Drakshasav, port, sherry, marsala or Madeira. Quantities are elastic. For enough trifle for 12, since portions are small, start with two sponge or pound cake layers, homemade or bought from a reliable bakery that doesn’t use synthetic vanilla. Split the layers, so that you have four discs. Soak the jerdaloos for two to three hours after you’ve rinsed them thoroughly. Poach them in their soaking water with more sugar than you think is sane — about one cup to one pound of jerdaloos — until they’re soft but still hold their shape. In any batch, you’ll find that there are some that tend to fall apart. Don’t worry about that. When the jerdaloos have cooled enough to handle, drain them, reserving the syrup, split them, remove and reserve the seeds. Set the jerdaloos aside. Pour at least two cups of port or Drakshasav into the syrup and stir to combine.

To assemble: Set the first layer of cake in a deep serving bowl, glass or ceramic, and drench it with the port and syrup mixture. Cover the surface with jerdaloo halves. Then repeat with two more layers of cake, syrup mixture and jerdaloos. Thoroughly wet the top layer with any remaining syrup, stretching it with more wine if you need to. Cover tightly and refrigerate for at least a day before serving. 

Meanwhile, extract the kernels from the pits by drying them thoroughly before putting them a few at a time between layers of paper towel or a kitchen cloth. Using a rubber mallet or a hammer, bash the pits. It doesn’t matter too much if they crumble. Just be sure you separate the hard shells from the kernels. After a few misaimed whacks, you get the hang of it and learn to exert just the right amount of control to crack the pits without shattering them. 

Close to serving time, remove the refrigerated trifle, cover the surface with stiffly whipped cream, barely sweetened if at all, strew the reserved kernels over the top and a few choice pieces of jerdaloo if there are any left. Silver leaf adds an extra-festive touch.