There’s something about simplicity that is strangely deceptive. It is often thought of as being unidimensional or even simplistic, but when I really think about it, to arrive at simplicity can be pretty complex and painstaking - it is perhaps why it is beautiful in its irony and the reason one feels joyous at having arrived at it. Maybe this is the equivalent of abstraction in art, in that abstraction and minimalism are incredibly complex and the result of (potentially tedious) process and evolution - to gradually chisel away at something until you’re left with the bare bones or just enough to still capture its spirit. However, on more than one occasion I’ve heard more than one person remark whilst looking at a Mondrian, Picasso, Calder or Kandinsky (all masters of abstraction), how it looked like their three year old could have done the same thing. Even this, is probably a compliment because making something look simple isn’t easy. At all.
This is kind of how I feel about my grandmother’s Papeta Par Eedu. This kind of simplicity disarmed me into thinking that I could throw the bunch of ingredients into a pan and it would be a breeze. It was a humbling experience, to say the least because when there are only a few elements to work with, there’s nothing to hide behind and nothing to mask your flaws. I am by no means suggesting that this is a complex recipe, but that I felt a new found admiration for the magic my grandmum could create by harnessing so much flavour from a few humble ingredients.
Every day Alooma (my grandmum) waited for me to get back from school so that we could have lunch together. For the most part I hated school, so I was always happy to come home. Even more so when I had a dog. I threw my bag on any surface closest to the door, I was grimy and smelled like kerosene from the Rickshaw ride back from home, but I couldn’t be bothered because I was always super hungry by the time I got home. On most days we had Papeta Par Eedu because I loved it. Let me put it this way, if this dish was a song, it was the only one I played from an entire playlist.
Both of us sat in front of the TV with our respective plates and watched ‘MTV Select’ while we ate. Alooma obviously had no interest in MTV, Michael Jackson or the Backstreet Boys (yes, that was a major phase), but she liked whatever I liked. It was so incredibly wonderful of her - not once did she ask to watch something she liked. She was always in my corner even if she knew I was wrong, and if I ever had a fan club, she would be the one fan that made it up. That’s all I needed anyway, I think - the 33 kg, one woman army with the largest heart and a stare that could blow you into oblivion if you crossed her granddaughter.
Food is so much more than just ingredients and meals and this dish is special to me, not only because I love eating it and making it, but because it reminds me of my Alooma and what it meant to have someone so absolutely devoted, you could do no wrong in their eyes. I feel so incredibly fortunate to be at the receiving end of something so unadulterated. I wish every kid had that.
I would call that a digression, but food to me has little meaning without the people and the stories that bind me to it.
So coming back to the lunch in our plates as we watched TV - the potatoes were perfectly cooked, slightly caramelised from sticking to the pan, the cumin was perfectly tempered, the chilli added a tiny bit of heat, the egg was set just right and everything was perfectly seasoned. What tied it altogether and gave it its identity was the gentle, but flavourful hum of aadu-lasan (ginger-garlic paste) running through it. We had it hot from the pan with a fresh Roti. I’m actually salivating right now.
Over time my grandmum’s recipe has been modified and I make a slightly altered version right now, but I do think that the aadu-lasan paste is key to this dish. I’ve listed both recipes - the original and the modified version. What I love about making this is how versatile it is and how there’s so much room to experiment and play around. There have been times when I’ve even made it with the previous days’ potato sabji and it was still delicious.
There are a million variations to this and I’m sure every Parsi house has their own version, so have fun with it and customise it as you’d like!
Ingredients
1 tbsp vegetable oil
1 tsp cumin seeds
1 medium sized red onion, sliced
1 green chilli, finely chopped
1 tsp ginger-garlic paste
2 medium to large sized potatoes, peeled and sliced 5mm thick
3 eggs (large to medium)
1/2 tsp turmeric
1 tsp red chilli powder
Salt to taste
Finely chopped coriander (optional)
Method
Heat the oil in a pan on a high flame and once it has come up to temperature, add the cumin seeds. You want to temper these so that they release their wonderful flavour and aroma. Reduce the flame to a medium heat and add the onion slices. I season at various stages while cooking, so I add a bit of salt at this stage. Keep the onion moving so it cooks down evenly and doesn’t catch. What you want is for the onion to break down and release its inherent sweetness. Once the onion is slightly translucent, switch to a low flame and add the green chilli and the ginger-garlic paste. Combine everything and cook down for another 2-3 minutes or until the onion has sweated down.
Add the thinly sliced potato and combine it so that the onion-y strands have coated the potatoes. Add the turmeric and chilli powder and once again combine it just long enough so that it has coated everything and you don’t burn the spices. I season again at this point. Add a splash of water (I put about 40-50ml), run your spatula through the mix, cover and cook until the potatoes are done. Depending on the kind of potatoes, this could take anywhere between 20-30 minutes. Check on the potatoes every few minutes and move them around. Add splashes of water (I use about 10-20 ml at a time) in between if you feel like they start to stick too much. Before you add the eggs, you want to make sure that the potatoes are completely cooked and have no resistance or bite. I love the idea of tasting everything while I cook so at this point I taste, not only to see if the potatoes are cooked, but also to check the seasoning and spice.
When the potatoes are just about done, crack the eggs into a bowl or any vessel (spacious enough to whisk freely). Once in the whisking bowl, I season the eggs separately too. Use a whisk or a fork and some elbow grease, until the eggs are well combined and they’ve lost their super gelatinous strands. Spread the cooked potatoes evenly over the bottom of the pan such that you can see bits of the pan exposed between them. While maintaining a low flame, pour the eggs evenly over the potato mixture and cover with a lid. I’ve realised that not covering it makes the bottom cook way too quickly and eventually burn before the top has a chance to cook. The advantage of a glass lid, is that you can see if the egg is cooked on top without letting all the steam escape. When the egg is mostly cooked, but still just a tad gelatinous, add the coriander (if you like it as a garnish) at this point and cover once again.
Once done, the result is a set kind of top and the most delicious caramelised bottom.
We generally cut it into four and serve.
Serves two (or one Parsi with a decent appetite).
The Original Recipe
Ingredients
1 tbsp vegetable oil
1 tsp cumin seeds
1 tsp ginger-garlic paste
1 green chilli, finely chopped
2 medium to large sized potatoes,
peeled and sliced 5 mm thick
2 eggs (large to medium)
Salt to taste
Finely chopped coriander (optional)
Method
Heat the oil in a pan on a high flame and once it has come up to temperature, add the cumin seeds. You want to temper these so that they release their wonderful flavour and aroma. Reduce the flame to a medium heat and add the chopped green chilli and potato slices. Season well and combine everything till the potatoes are well coated. Add a splash of water, cover and leave over a low flame until the potatoes have cooked through. This should take anywhere between 20-30 minutes depending on the kind of potatoes and the thickness of the slices. Check on the potatoes at regular intervals and move them around to make sure they don’t stick or burn. Add a splash of water in between if you feel like they’re sticking too much.
When the potatoes are just about done, crack the eggs into a bowl or any vessel (spacious enough to whisk freely). Once in the whisking bowl, I season the eggs separately too. Use a whisk or a fork and some elbow grease, until the eggs are well combined and they’ve lost their super gelatinous strands. Spread the cooked potatoes evenly over the bottom of the pan such that you can see bits of the pan exposed between them. While maintaining a low flame, pour the eggs evenly over the potato mixture and cover with a lid. I’ve realised that not covering it makes the bottom cook way too quickly and eventually burn before the top has a chance to cook. The advantage of a glass lid, is that you can see if the egg is cooked on top without letting all the steam escape. When the egg is mostly cooked, but still just a tad gelatinous, add the coriander (if you like it as a garnish) at this point and cover once again.
Once done, the result is set kind of top and the most delicious caramelised bottom.
We generally cut it into four and serve.
The beauty of Papeta Par Eedu is that it lends itself wonderfully to playing around! I personally don’t like runny or separate eggs yolks, so the eggs are whisked. I also like the layer of potato to be thin because I feel like it’s a good ratio of egg to potato. You can play around with the proportion of eggs to potato, how thick you like it (by using more ingredients or a smaller pan), how spicy or non-spicy you like it and you can even add your eggs whole by making little pockets in the potato (if you like runny yolks). The cooking of this will differ though and you’ll have to experiment with timings a little bit.
Every now and then I add grated Amul cheese (around the same time you add the coriander and cook for a bit until it has melted) and the salty hit is wonderful. If you can’t find Amul cheese I suppose any salty cheddar that melts should do the trick. I’m no expert on cheeses though.
This is great for a late breakfast/ brunch kind of thing, with some fresh, soft white bread or a freshly made Roti (and is honesty one of the best hangover foods, in my opinion). There are several variations of this using different bases and eggs on top - Tameta Par Eedu (tomato based), Bhida Par Eedu (with ladies fingers), Bhaji par Eedu (using a pre-existing Parsi dish with greens) and even Sali Par Eedu (using a fried, crunchy potato snack).
Useful peripherals
I use a 24 cm non-stick pan with a glass lid and a wooden spatula. If the pan doesn’t have a lid, you can use a plate (not plastic) to cover it when required.
I find it much easier to show you visually how I cut the potato. Cutting it thin cooks it faster, but also allows for some crispy bits and caramelisation, which I love. Mostly, this is just the way my grandmum did it, so I’m a fan.
It’s okay if you can’t slice the onion super fine, just make sure it’s even to ensure even cooking.
Use less green chilli or chilli powder you’re not big on heat or spice.
My grandma always kept an additional vaatki handy and would crack the eggs first into that before putting into the whisking bowl. In case an egg is bad, this will save the lot from having to be thrown out. I love these little tips that are so simple, but wonderfully functional and non-wasteful.
You can make the potato bit earlier and do the egg bit just before a meal.