Gulab Jamun Recipe

At one of the dinner gatherings at Adnan Bhai’s house, the dessert afte the main course was gulab jamun. Those unfamiliar with this mouth-watering South Asian sweet, allow me to introduce you. Gulab Jamun is a ball of deep-fried milk-solids and boiled in a sugar syrup. Gulab means “rose” in Urdu, and jamun is a type of purple, grape-looking fruit (known as Java Plum in English). The dessert gets its name form its rose-like smell and taste, and jamun-like shape.

Below you will find a recipe that I have taken from Madiha Bhabi. Disclaimer: there are many ways to gulab jamun and as such, you’ll find many YouTube videos and recipes out on the net. However, this is the easiest and most delicious one in my biased opinion. Before trying this at home, one should note that gulab jamun can sometimes take a few practices before they turn out “perfect.” I know this from first-hand experience, unfortunately; two weeks ago, my gulab jamun were a complete mess…they broke apart as soon as I deep-fried them. A big part of this failure is because I used coffee creamer in place of milk powder which I could not find in the local market—but I have found the correct milk powder now! Anyhow, without further adieu, here is the recipe!

Gulab Jamun Recipe

Makes 20 gulab jamun

Ingredients:

½ cup milk

¼ cup butter

2 tbsp semolina (suji)

2 tbsp all-purpose flour

1 heaping mug of milk powder

1 egg

2 cups sugar

A pinch of baking soda

A pinch of ground nutmeg

2-3 cups vegetable cooking oil (depending on size of frying pot)

Pistachios as a topping (optional)

Directions:

1. On low heat, create sugar syrup by pouring 2 cups sugar in 2 cups of water. Do not stir; let the sugar dissolve by itself.
2. Warm the milk, butter, and milk powder in a pot. Be sure to stir consistently so that there are no lumps.
3. Soften the semolina by letting it soak in warm water for 2 minutes. Add the semolina (drain if too much water) to the milk mixture on the heat.
4. Let this milk/semolina batter cool down by spreading it on a platter or tray.
5. Add 2 pinches of baking soda and 1 pinch of nutmeg to the spread batter. Mix well. Then add flour and knead well.
6. In a separate bowl, beat the egg with a whisk or fork. Then add 2 tablespoons of egg to the dough. (This helps keep the gulab jamun together.)
7. Once the dough is well mixed, make small round balls with your hand.
8. Warm up the oil in a deep-frying pot. Be sure that the oil is not too hot! This is critical because you want your gulab jamun to cook well from the inside; cold oil will not cook it while hot oil will burn the outside but leave the inside raw. The correct way to tell if your oil is the right temperature is to put a very small tester piece of dough in the oil and see if it takes time to rise to the top—if it does, then the oil is perfect. If it rises too quickly, then lower the heat or add more oil to keep the temperature warm.
9. Place the dough balls in the deep-frying pot of warm oil and stir slowly as the balls rise to the top.
10. When the balls have turned a golden-brown color, take them out and place them in the sugar syrup which should be ready now.
11. Once you have fried all the jamuns, turn off the heat from under the syrup and let the dessert cool down. You may add crushed pistachios on the top.
12. Serve when slightly warm. Enjoy with family and friends!

"Trabsgiving" at Trabzon

This year I spent another Thanksgiving away from my family. Thanksgiving is a special holiday in American culture; it’s not just about eating turkey and stuffing our bellies with lots of food, it’s about spending time with loved ones and creating memories. I have been fortunate to spend Thanksgiving multiple times with my host family from Bowdoin, and this year, I missed both Brunswick and Alexandria, places I call home.

Nick, Samer, and Christian.

Two groups of Fulbright students hosted Thanksgiving dinner this year: Lily and Casey hosted a “Konyacopia” and the three boys in Trabzon hosted a “Trabzgiving”. Since we had already visited Konya, Alex and I decided to travel to Trabzon this time. We caught a 6:30pm flight from Antalya airport and arrived to Trabzon at 8:10pm. This was our first trip to another city by plane. I guess the week must have been very busy for us, because we forgot to jot down important information such as our Trabzon hosts’ address and phone number. This, as you can imagine, posed some challenges after we landed. After drinking some elma soda (carbonated apple juice), we began ask strangers if we could use their phones to log onto Facebook so that we could contact our friends. After a few rejections, one nice young man let us borrow his phone and we were able to contact our hosts, get an address, and taxi to Arzum, a market near their house. Alas, we were saved!

There were about 20 Fulbrighters who traveled to Trabzon this weekend. It was a full house! It was nice to be around native English speakers again, it gave a sense of home and belonging, which is what Thanksgiving is about. Some Fulbrighters got an Airbnb apartment nearby to sleep comfortably in a bed, while majority of us found spots on couches or the floor to spend the nights. Samer, Christian, and Nick—the three boys stationed in Trabzon and hosting “Trabzgiving”—were very kind and generous to allow so many people in their house. They provided snacks and took on the burden for majority of the food and accommodations. They even gave up their beds to their guests and didn’t mind sleeping wherever they could find a place.

On Friday and Saturday mornings, everyone roamed and explored different parts of Trabzon. Alex, George, Caileen, her boyfriend Gordon, and myself formed one group. We ate a late lunch, drank Caribou coffee (what an American delight!), and visited the main meydan (square). We also visited a little ‘Ayasofya’, a mosque that was once a church. The cami (pronounced “jami”), Turkish word for mosque, had two back doors: one for devout Muslims to enter and pray, and the other for curious visitors to enter and observe. Since I did not have vudu (proper cleansing before praying), I did not pray and instead entered through the foreigner door. I observed Jesus paintings scratched out in the stone domes and walls, and instead adorned with large frames with Allah and Muhammad’s names in Arabic. When we returned home after dinner, we learned some folks went to Riza, the famous Turkish tea fields.

Even though Thanksgiving was officially on Thursday, we had our big Thanksgiving meal on Saturday evening. Everyone cooked something or contributed in one way or another. In the end, we had lots of food! There were deviled eggs, Turkish rice, fried chicken, sarmi (rice wrapped in grape leaves, a Turkish appetizer), mashed potatoes, chicken gumbo, salad with pomegranate seeds, spinach dip, hummus, and of course, lots and lots of etmek (bread). We even had apple and pumpkin pies for dessert! Talk about feeling at home. Everything was so delicious and it was so filling. Samer, Nick, and Christian had also invited some of their Turkish friends to this Thanksgiving meal, so the house was unusually full, with well over 30 people. Our Turkish guests served first, so we could show them American hospitality for once and share with them a piece of our culture. After all, food brings everyone to the table.

More than 30 people were at Thanksgiving in Trabzon.

At Boztepe with Caileen and Gordon.

The next day, people left at various times to catch their buses or planes back to their home cities. Some Fulbrighters ventured out to Boztepe, a hill with a gorgeous city view of Trabzon. Since our flight was at 4pm, Alex and I decided to have warm çay with Caileen and Gordon before taxiing to the airport. When we got there, we ran into other housemates who had arrived to Boztepe before us. It was a chilly morning, so a big bubbling teapot was perfect. Boztepe had a colorful view of Trabzon, a city known for its natural beauty. It is typically cloudy and gloomy in Trabzon, and this weekend was no exception. Every time I see a breathtaking view of cities, something overcomes me. I find myself holding my breath and staring out in the distance, amazed by the both humankind creations (houses, roads, towers) and God’s creations (mountains, trees, seas, the sky). Both creations blend into one another, like paint colors on a canvass. Maybe the feeling I get when I experience these heights is a longing to return my childhood hobby of painting. Some of the photos I have captured with my phone, I hope to turn into paintings when I return to the USA. 

That’s all for now, thanks for reading. Next stop: Istanbul!

Why do airports make you cry?

August 29, 2015

Today is my last day in the U.S. and it has been a pretty hectic one. I woke up two whole hours earlier than my normal summer hour, noon, and finished packing. My older sister took me to the mall to get comfortable Nike shoes, but malls over the weekends are crowded and it took us longer than we had anticipated. Nonetheless, we got home in a timely fashion, ate Mom's delicious chicken biryani, and got ready. As per tradition, my family took photos and then we all prayed for my safe journey. Around 5:30pm, we hit the road for Dulles airport.

I'm flying Air France from DC to Istanbul, with a quick layover in Paris. I packed two checked luggage, one carry-on, and a backpack. Luckily my first checked luggage was free, but the second one cost $100. There's nothing in the world I hate more than luggage fees. But alas, such is life. And no, this is not what made me cry at the airport.

Next, my parents and my younger sister went to the exchange booth because I wanted to have some Turkish lira on me before I got to the country. The current rate in the market is 2.91 lira per dollar; but the guy at the booth cheated us and gave us 2.51 lira per dollar, in addition to charging us a $10 service fee. Baba was not happy about this, and I rolled my eyes in frustration. There are some things in life that you just have to accept; sadly, a corrupt world is one of them. Again, no tears here.

The Departure Gates. That's where it happened.

There was a man standing in front of the big sign labeled "All Departure Gates." His job is to check boarding passes and only let traveling passengers through, which means he probably witnesses a lot of emotional moments. What a tough job! Speaking of emotional moments, my family and I had mine. My mom started crying, which made me cry, and we shared a warm hug for a good two minutes. Then I turned around, and saw Baba teary-eyed, and I hugged him goodbye too. Last time I saw Baba cry was when he dropped me off at Bowdoin College back in August 2009. Finally, I hugged my airport photographer, my sister Laraib and proceeded towards the man witnessing the scene. I didn't want to look back but I couldn't help it. I waved my family a final goodbye, took a huge breath (which helped clear out the emotions), and went down the escalators.

Saying goodbye to my family at Dulles Int'l Airport.

There's something about airports that just brings choking tears to people's eyes. I don't know what it is. Maybe they spray something special in airports to make sure eyes water up. Parting from family members, regardless of the occasion, is very symbolic and often emotional. I told my mom she had nothing to worry about because I would be back in 9 months, and she and Baba would be visiting me in a few months too - that we will all be reunited in just a matter of short time. This didn't console her much because I knew the thought that was lingering in her mind -- it was the same one that lingered in my mind. The thought that no one likes to admit but expresses with their tears: what if there is no next time? What if this is it, this is the last time you see your family?

As scary as that thought may be, I'm an optimist so I like to think the best of every situation. I am confident that my travels will be safe and that I will return to the USA in one piece, inshAllah. That said, there was one last thing that made me cry at the airport: I badly chipped my left thumb's nail, so much so that it bled a little. It must have happened at some point while I was handling luggage. I didn't have clippers on me, so a bandaid did the trick.