Palakottai Poli [& Barfi]

Jackfruit season is on in full-swing, and our very own tree has chosen this year to start fruiting.

With the pala-pazham and its pala-chulaihal (countless arils) come pala-kottai: countless seeds. The chakka-pazham arils never make it into cooking of any sort–they simply get eaten too fast. But for the palakottai, pala-recipes are in fact needed.

So this year, a page from the classic Karnataka obbatu, the halasina beeja holige or jackfruit seed holige. In Tamil and Gujarati-Marathi, poli.

Oligalu or holige are essentially sweet, stuffed flatbreads, prepared for festivals or other ceremonial events. Every region and every state has its version, so this is really a dish of a 100 names .. Poli, Obbattu [Bangalore-side name], Holige, Oliga [those names from Dakshina Kannada and North Karnataka], Vedmi, Poli, Puranachi poli, God poli/ Til Gul Poli/Gulachi Poli [Maharashtrian names], Pappu bakshalu/just Bakshalu/Ugadi bakshalu, Bobbattu, Abatulu, Kobarabattulu [these names are Telugu]—from the western states reaching east and snaking south, everyone has a claim on it. For all its wide familiarity, it varies only very lightly: the filling is a “paruppu” or a dal of some kind, classically chana/bengal gram, but jack seeds are an easy substitution as they are texturally close enough. There can be more, less or maybe only coconut, sometimes there’s sesame added in; dough could be made of white or wheat flour; jaggery is the near-universal sweetener of choice; ghee is mandatory. Whatever you call them, and however you tweak them—polis are truly one of those “rose-by-any-other-name” preparations: always as sweet, always special, in the sense of being both dear to our hearts and (therefore) made for special occasions.

Now, the making. The poornam or laddoo-like stuffing is usually prepared first, and the process for using jack seeds follows quite identically, the process of making the classic polis using bengal gram dal. There’s a video below that shows you how, and all you need to do is swap out the bengal gram for (peeled) jack seeds. Basically: you cook the seeds, you grind them with some water and fresh grated coconut into a smooth paste, you cook them down with jaggery syrup, and flavor them with cardamom and nutmeg.

Jack seeds being as thirsty as they are, however, I found that that final cooking stage dries the jack seed paste down very quickly–to the point where you can easily spread it in a greased-lined pan and cut it into diamonds to make a sort of quick barfi. Really, if you wanted, you need go no farther than this. The palakottai poornam is quite delicious just like this, with a little fresh coconut for a garnish.

But you have your heart and sights set on holige, as I did, then this “barfi” becomes the poli poornam. Instead of diamonds, you catch it into spheres, enclose these in some pre-prepared dough, and roll them out into dosa-sized flatbreads and griddle-fry with ghee.

Stuffing and rolling anything in India is a skill typically acquired through long years of mimicry, apprenticeship, and practice, with each sort of flatbread demanding its own unique set of proscriptions and guidelines. Learning to roll out perfect, even circles, or to cook the perfect paratha, or to pat out the perfect roti is almost a rite of passage, the thing that differentiates a girl from a woman, a Gujarati from anyone else! and on and on. You know the story of how Birbal identified the visiting multi-lingual Pandit’s mother tongue—by awakening him from sleep with sprinkle of cold water and listening for his surprised utterances? Same-same, if you want to know where someone is from—ask them to make a flatbread. That will tell you.

[Except in my case, of course, where I have Tamil, Andhra, and Karnataka influences working full-swing. Even so, someone invariably figures me out; my aravapilla or Tamil girl roots always show. Like the girl in the physiotherapist’s office the other day, like so many before her asked me: “You’re Iyer?” My language always gives me away, I shrugged. “Nice,” she said, “I like your slang.” I was already sucking it in, so it wasn’t all that hard to keep from laughing out loud.]

The last thing about making polis is another universal: there will invariably be some poornam (or barfi) left over.

And with this gets made yet another delicacy, this one more Telugu than either Karnataka or Tamil: the oliga chaaru. Maharashtrians make an equivalent, katachi amti, though Riethaa of Zanzaneet tells me they are not soured like our charus are. In any case, the mastery of the oliga chaaru is sufficient to set any naysayers who dare question your Tamil roots silent.

Find the recipe for oligalu in the video below, or the Maharashtrian version from Anita’s blog; the recipe for katachi amti from Riethaa’s blog. Scroll down for my jack seed barfi-poornam poli-making method. And wait for the chaaru made from this–that one’s a Deepa special, with, I promise, no earthly equivalent.

So, the best is yet to come.

Palakottai Poli & Barfi

A twist on the classic poli/oliga/obbattu sweetbread, using jackfruit seeds to prepare the stuffing. The stuffing laid out and cut in pieces can be had on its own, too — so this recipe is 2-in-1: a barfi and the poli, a sweetmeat and a stuffed sweetbread!

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Ingredients

  

For the dough

• 1 cup of all purpose flour or maida
• ¼ cup whole wheat flour
• ¼ teaspoon turmeric
• ¼ teaspoon oil to coat the dough

For the poornam or filling

• 1½ cups of jackfruit seeds
• ½ cup freshly grated coconut
• 1 ½ cups grated jaggery
• 3-4 cardamom pods, seeds removed and powdered
• A generous pinch of freshly grated nutmeg

For griddle-frying

• ½ cup of ghee

To serve

• Extra ghee
• Milk or fresh cream

Instructions

 

Prepare the dough

• Combine the flours and turmeric in a small mixing bowl. Add just enough water to bring this together into a dough, and knead until this is very elastic.
• Brush with oil, cover, and allow the dough to rest 3-4 hours. Do not skip the resting—it is critical to achieving the right elasticity to roll the filled polis without “leaking” filling later, and getting the right texture for the poli.

Prepare the poornam

• Pressure cook the jackfruit seeds for 4 whistles (or simmer them on stovetop until they are knife-tender). Once the seeds are cooked, drain the water—but save it, for use in making chaaru later. Also set aside about 6-8 seeds for the chaaru.
• Peel the jackfruit seeds if you haven't already–their white seed coat is papery and inedible.
• Grind the remaining seeds with the jaggery and coconut into a smooth paste. If you were making this with chana dal, you’d need no water. With jack seeds, you’ll need water, but use just enough to allow this to become a smooth paste.
• Transfer the paste to a heavy-bottomed pan, set on medium heat. Cook this until it is almost completely solidified.
• Add the powdered cardamom and the nutmeg
• To make barfi: press this hot filling into a small, well-greased pan or plate, allow to cool, and cut into squares. Garnish with fresh coconut and serve warm.
• Or, continue with the poornam: Once the mixture is cool enough to handle, form into large lime-sized balls. Set aside.
• Remember to reserve 1-2 poornam balls for oliga chaaru, to be made next.

Prepare the polis

• Heat a heavy griddle or tava, and keep the flame on medium-high.
• On a well-floured surface, gently punch and knead the dough. Divide it into 8 evenly sized balls. Take one to start rolling, and cover the rest while you work.
• Roll the dough into a small round. Place one of the poornam balls in the center, and fold the dough around it. Press any openings to seal.
• Gently flatten the filled ball, and roll it out until it is the size of a side-dish or small salad plate. Don’t worry too much if the filling breaks through here and there; sprinkle some flour on the “bruises” and keep going.
• Place the rolled poli on the hot griddle. Brush the top and especially edges with ghee.
• Flip it after a minute or so, and brush the bottom with ghee. Use a spatula to gently press the top of the poli, to encourage it to puff—puffing indicates it’s cooked and done, but if it doesn’t that’s fine, too.
• Flip it a few times to ensure even browning on both sides. Transfer to a plate and either keep whole or fold into halves or triangles.
• Repeat the same process for the remaining dough and poornam balls.

To serve

• Serve the polis hot or warm, with extra ghee on the side and either milk or fresh cream to pour over top.
• Both the polis and the poornam/barfi are best had immediately. The poornam or barfi will keep, refrigerated, for several days—though you might need to add a little ghee to resuscitate it later. The polis can be refrigerated or frozen for longer periods, and gently re-heated on stovetop before serving.

Video

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