It would have been inconceivable to have even the tiniest hair on
my legs under that thin green cotton skirt which didn’t even puff
around my ankles in the monsoon heat. I was fortunate that it
didn’t stick. Not a mane or even some stubble…nothing that would
interrupt the flow of moisture shall we say. What? It’s not me…it’s
the July heat in a combustive Mumbai.
My sister-in-law’s sunny mum introduced me to a pleasure that I have since hankered for again and again. The recollection of it conjures up and celebrates the delicate aroma of buttery and toasted bread, tantalizing green chutney and a moist, tumbling filling. Smooth potatoes,cheese, and juicy tomatoes, sweet beetroot cooling cucumber all flirted together amidst the spikiness of peppery and salty chaat masala. When the secret was first revealed to me, I was preparingfor a pre-wedding a trip to shopping-heaven-Mumbai. ‘Auntie’ gave me an unabridged list of shops and boutiques and bazaars to visit, which was hugely helpful. But, she did stress the absolute importance of requesting ‘the sandwich’ whilst in an air conditioned sari shop. Not just any sandwich, but THE sandwich.
Auntie’s face filled with glee and she became quite poetic andinstructing; I thought, ‘what’s the big deal, it’s just a
sandwich’. Seven years andseveral trips to Mumbai later, I was back at the shabby looking,crowd beholding and sacred street shack of the ultimate sandwich. It was July then and tangerineand rust are the colours I think of now. Stifled in the heat, I waited whilst being tossed around and blended with outgoing people traffic from the bazaar behind me and incoming traffic into the more upmarket sari boutique. I felt dribbles down my back andrecognizing that I should have worn a looser vest, became increasingly exasperated. My lower back was aching – and to add to the experience I
was further pressed to queasiness and stuffiness as itwas my time-of-the-month darn it! But I waited.
Behold the sandwich. Husband arrives with boxes; scents are sending tummy rumbling, we rush into air conditioned cab. Try sliding across seats, unsuccessful. Why? Skirt decides to stick. Mother Nature’s monthly calling left me decidedly icky and needing water but devour sarnie I did.
So, I’m going to share it with you; my take on the recipe that is. My inspiring and full-of-life friend
Milan whom I would say is probably just as in love with the ‘friendship sandwich’ as I am, may seem to spend more time and infinite joy in India, but I have the sarnie at home. Aha! Idedicate this recipe to Bharti Auntie and Milan.
To make two sarnies
for the Green
Chutney; 80g of coriander, with stalks
and leaves 2 green chillies 2 tbsp. of water 1 tbsp. of lemon juice
2 inch stick of ginger Approximately 10 peanuts Salt to taste
Ingredients for the
6 slices of bread Butter or
margarine to spread on the toast
150g of new potatoes 100g of
grated cheddar cheese
80g of cucumber, cut into 1cm cubes 5-6
cherry tomatoes, cubed
80g cooked Beetroot, cut into 1cm cubes
About 1tsp of chaat masala Method
- To make the green chutney, grind together all of the
ingredients until it’s a smooth paste. If the paste is too thick,
add a little more water.
- Boil the new potatoes
until soft enough to pierce; this should take 7-8minutes. Allow
them to cool, before slicing them thinly
the bread and butter each slice. To make each sandwich, take a
single slice of buttered toast and then spread a thin layer of
green chutney onto it
- Layer the potatoes,
beetroot, cheese, cucumber and tomatoes onto the layer of bread and
then sprinkle about ¼ tsp. of chaat masala onto the
- Top this with another slice of buttered
toast and green chutney and repeat so that you have a three layer