How to make Cranberry Tokku, Easy Cranberry Pickle, Cranberry Relish

I started blogging in a time when the internet world had taken to blogs burgeoning everywhere like little mushrooms enticed by rains. There was an unfaltering gush of novel, unexplored cuisines, recipes, ingredients and more, all brimming on various sites with their evocative photographs and stories, each compelling and competing by themselves to make a mark on the space. I'd viciously eye those berries and stone fruits that would pop up randomly every now and then, in seasons and festivities, their crimson reds, navy blues and sunlit ambers marrying blissfully into butter, sugar and flour to settle into marvelous looking desserts - desserts that could trigger hunger at odd hours of the day and post hefty meals; leaving me much in envy of being unable to get my hands on them back in time, while the world around rejoiced in celebration with such food.

That said, what did not make much of an appearance on the web space were fresh, glossy, scarlet red cranberries. There were several recipes out there that had them in scones, breads and cakes, mostly used in dried form, the kind of ones that are drowned in sugar and shriveled to douse the tart flavor. For a while, now that these are easily accessible in India, I too made my convenience with using the dried varieties in our favorite mincemeat recipe that sat bathing, cramped up with other dry fruits and weighed down by nuts in a heady spiced rum concoction for months before being brought out to be baked into Christmas Fruit Cake.

I had never seen fresh cranberries in the past till I came to the US. With dried cranberries available on ease, it was what it was known to me. For several years till lately, I was tricked into assuming that cranberries were akin to karonda, or karvanda (as known in Kannada), the tart-sweet Indian berries commonly used erstwhile in Indian pickles. I was excited about cranberries being karvanda, for two reasons.

One, I had never seen a karvanda bush, nor tasted its fruit in ripe, however I grew up hearing my dad often commend his love for these extinct pickling fruits, reminiscing how he missed watching his mother and grandmother collect the tart green berries off the bushes that grew in their backyard while the summer set in, of how they let them mature in brine for weeks, hand pounded the fresh spices and amalgamated them for months in sun to be pickled. Those were his memories, far and few, raved and deemed. For me, in rare times that I met a marinated young karvanda berry eye to eye, it was always camouflaged, heavily absorbed in red spices, and tart from being infused with bite sized mangoes pieces, served as delicious pickles alongside other dishes in odd occasions of weddings or family gatherings. Hardly an acquaintance to delineate something about.

Yet, those who grew up in the North of India may spin you tales of their childhood spent twiddling around the karonda (as they call it) bushes in the backyard of their aunt's, grandma's or friend's home, plucking them and popping it to their mouths with puckered face; karonda being more popular in the North of India than in the South where I grew up.

For second, Karavanda wasn't popular in generation of our times by any means; at least, it wasn't regarded high as the imported peers were. No one told us how good they were, no magazines or food channels professed it high, nor did our Sunday markets run its produce, probably because a lot of our Indian population was either disinterested to honor it or the ones like me, had hardly known it by trait. For a long time I did not know what it was called in English, or if it did exist in the lexicons of English circles. On the other hand, we had newspapers and magazines that constantly spoke of how fab cranberries were in beating the beast out of cancers and UTIs, tipping off cranberries to be our very Indian karavanda, and how our long forgotten fruit had captured attention in the West and that it may be touted as a superfood, pronto. Internet added to that fad with burst of knowledge.

My assumptions may have been misleading me, but thankfully I know today that karonda is karonda and cranberry is cranberry. Both live in separate worlds, with different identities, in their own identities that can't be swapped. It took me a trip to Nantucket in summer to realize this. That's where I saw the process of cranberries being grown and harvested, much unlike the trees that my grandmother harvested from, but bog flooded and cragged from vines. I came back home with a bag full of organic cranberries to turn them into a desi relish!

That brings me to this interesting recipe I have to share with you today. A mod-western ingredient with a traditional twist. The east meets west kinds. An old wine in a new bottle. This cranberry chutney, a dip, or more traditionally a thokku. Its very Indian at heart, its spices and the flavor - piquant, tart and delicious in a tiny blob on the side to any dish. You drag a lump of it with your fingers and mix along with steaming hot rice or simply scoop a small portion with your roti or dosa and relish it. Its makes a kicking dip to tortilla chips or even khakras, and that's exactly how I've zinged up over the past couple of evenings alongside my tea.

Cranberry Tokku

INGREDIENTS

2 cups fresh cranberries
5 tbsp. vegetable oil
2 tsp. red chilli powder
1 tsp. fenugreek seeds powder
1 tsp. asafoetida (hing)
1 sprig curry leaves
Salt to taste

DIRECTIONS

Heat vegetable oil in a kadai/ wok. Add mustard seeds and fry till it begins to splutter.

Next add the red chilli powder, fenugreek powder and the asafoetida into the oil and fry for 5 seconds. Do not allow spices to burn.

Add the torn curry leaves and fry for few seconds till they turn crisp.

Reduce the flame and add the fresh cranberries. Stir them in to coat all the spices. Cook till they pop and begin to reduce in volume. Using the back of spatula, gently mash them. Add in salt to taste and stir continuously until the cranberries soften, reduce in volume, and begin to lump, and the oil begins to separate.

Remove from heat and allow to cool completely. Store in air tight ceramic or glass containers.

Notes:

* You can add a tablespoon of jaggery to balance the tart incase you do not like the sour taste of the thokku.
* Fenugreek powder is bitter on its own, however when fried in oil it imparts a lovely flavor to the dish. It's the heart of this thokku and hence do not skip this ingredient.
* If you plan to store this over the counter for couple of days, its important you do not skip the amount of oil suggested. However, incase you plan to make a smaller quantity that will be consumed in a day or two, you can reduce the oil content. Oil helps in longer shelf life of any pickle.
* If you don't like heat, reduce the amount of chilli powder. We love our pickles spicy, so you may find the red chilli powder on slightly higher side. The heat of the chillies is also dependent on the kind of chilli powder you use. Hence use it judiciously.

How to make Kodubale | Easy Kodubale Recipe

It's eve of Diwali today, that time of the year I look forward to the most with great yearning and excitement. Its around this time I hit my best stride. I'm the happiest, consumed by thoughts only positive, blurring out all negativity and pessimism, guzzled with happiness, reflection, joy and celebration, irrespective of how high or low the year may have been. I hope yours was a fantastic one and continues to be so in the year ahead. I wish you a wonderful Diwali, and a year filled with good luck, health and prosperity. Wish you all a Happy Diwali and a prosperous New Year!

Right now as I write this, I sit on my dining table overlooking our balcony lit with tiny serial bulbs, running end to end, hung over the balcony parapet like wet jeans on cloth liners, its warm LEDs creating a bokeh effect on the hindsight in a very soothing way. Our little girl has been running around the home in sheer excitement of the festive hoopla. I miss the sounds of zameen chakras, rockets and phooljhadi (flower-pots) bursting in the vicinity, that reminds me of home back in India; but in a few minutes from now we'll head out to the local temple about 5 miles from home, where sounds of bursting crackers and rings of temple bells will chime alongside families wishing each other Happy Diwali. There's community get together - with prayer, celebrations, food and musicals to round off the night. Also, with parents around, our home is smelling of kodubales and shankarpalis and that's nothing short of what Diwali has been for us - food and celebration, both in plenty.

Before I head out, I'll leave you with this recipe for Kodubale, a traditional Indian savory snack that we grew up eating way too often, that there came a point when I hated it by heart. After I moved to Bangalore, I did not eat them for years. And then slowly, there came a time when I went back to eating them on my occasional trips to Mangalore, where they are made in plenty. It wasn't with much fervor though, but I know why so. Kodubales are made plenty in Mangalore - every bakery stocks them, every house stocks them, they are gifted too. They stay fresh for long, so most homes will serve you with a plate of these alongside tea. Women in most households have a recipe of their own, so they either whip up batches and stock by larders or they rush out to the nearest bakery to buy them the moment they hear a guest is about to arrive. My relatives even brought them along to gift whenever they visited us. Eventually it was overdosed and I saw aversion to it.

Of what I remember, these require no occasion to treat upon really. You make them on whim, serve your guests, feast them on festivals, snack on them in evenings with your tea, or simply carry them on your bus rides to munch on when odd hunger pangs strike. They are fried ofcourse, but they won't do much harm as a lot of the rice flour in the recipe is immune to absorbing oil. So you'll have a delicious savory that you can eat guilt free. I highly advise not experimenting these with baking, as they can obviously end disastrous. But if you have courageous nerves that I don't have, and you are successful at baking these, please share your tips with me. I will be overwhelmed to hear from you. On another note, you can control the amount of heat to your liking. I love these spicy, but if you like them low on spice, use a milder chilli powder for the heat. They are delicious I bet!

Kodubale

Prep: 30 mins | Cook: 20 min | Makes: 3 dozens

INGREDIENTS

Dry Ingredients:

2 cup rice flour
3/4 cup roasted split bengal gram (huri kadale)
1/2 cup desiccated dry coconut (powdered copra)
1/4 cup maida / plain flour
1 sprig finely chopped curry leaves
1 tsp. red chilli powder (I use a spicier one, such as Guntur chilli powder)
2 tbsp. sesame seeds
1/2 tsp. good quality asafeotida
Salt to taste

Other Ingredients:

2 tbsp. hot ghee
Oil for deep frying

DIRECTIONS

In a mixie, pulse the roasted gram into fine powder and keep it aside. Mix all ingredients mentioned under dry ingredients list along with roasted gram flour and make a well in the center. Add hot ghee and mix into the flour. Add just enough water to knead it into a firm dough.

Pinch out lemon sized balls of the dough and roll them using your palms into a long, 1 cm thick rope. Cut the rope into 7-8 cms long strips. Bring the 2 ends of the strip together and pinch its ends to form a tear drop shape. Alternatively, you can bring the either ends together and pinch them to seal, thus forming a round bangle shaped ring. Prep all of the dough and keep it ready for frying.

Meanwhile, as you prep the dough, heat up oil in a kadhai / wok to medium low heat. Test by dropping a small ball of dough. It should sink first and raise up to the surface. Once heated to this stage, drop the prepared kodubales into the hot oil and fry them in batches on medium low heat till they are golden brown in color. Do not clutter many in each batch as they need to be cooked through well. The temperature of the oil is key in making good kodubales as hotter oil will tend to crisp the kodubales faster, while the centers may still be uncooked. Remove from oil and drain on a kitchen paper. Allow them to cool completely and store them in dry airtight containers. They can be stored and stay fresh for about 2 weeks.

How to make Sabudana Vada | Easy Sabudana Vada Recipe

I spent a fairly large part of December living out of my suitcase traveling to Pune for work. Being my first visit ever to Pune as an adult I was looking forward to it. I’m told this is not my first time there. We lived for many years in Maharashtra and had crossed Pune en route on multiple occasions. The last time I was there, I don’t even remember. That must have been moons ago when I was a kid, most of which I can barely recall. And even if I did, it would do no good. Over decades, Pune is known to have seen oceanic wave of change the way Bangalore did. Nevertheless, it was a trip I lived and loved like I owned it.

I am taking you on a short walk to Pune through my eyes. Bear with me, these photos do no justice as I was without my real camera. All these captures were shot on my cell phone.

Vivacious and live. Modern, yet heirloom. It’s a city where warriors whisper their manifestation through their wadas in every nook. Where the stony edifices call out in solitude and their empty staircases in splashes of grey monotones make you weep. They take you back to school, to those history classes of 6th standard, leaving you in terrible guilt by reminding you how much you dreaded mugging Shivaji and Bajirao’s valor. Why I ask? Instead why didn’t our schools profess visiting these iconic citadels with their near-collapsing rustic wooden panes and ornate windows, that speak of their crumbling legacy and history entangled in this contemporary city. Echoes of bygones are heard in these architectural splendors. You wonder what lives have lived behind those warped doors. Their ruins and textures speak to you peeking from their pasts - from those granite slabs at the entrance of Shaniwar wada that etch their account, from their colossal wooden doors that weathered the centuries gone by; they once stood as epitome to the bygone Peshwa and Maratha reigns. You hear them whisper through cracks as they frail.

Pune is a sprawling city where urbanization is vastly seen in every spectacle that your eyes go. There are pockets of lanes and by-lanes that speak of their heritage caving their ways into modernization. There are wadas, forts and caves in the heart of city. Women draped in nauvaris haul carts heaped with fruits, weighing their daily sales. Men with kind eyes line the pavements, ride bicycles, and crowd the bazaars in their faded dhotis and topis, heavily dusty and pale from whites to browns. There are beautiful images of the daily Pune life that can't escape your eyes. Like markets crammed with fruit and vegetable vendors calling out to you. Kirana stores dotting the city all over. Wada-pav and sabudana wada bringing bliss to the common man’s appetite. Chitalebandhu and Kayani lending soul to early evenings. Marathi interspersed in sweet high tones; chalā chalā, puḍhē jā, kai jhālē. Sounds and smells of Marathi culture in everything, everywhere. It draws you into their culture, ties you with theirs.

Yet, if you tour the city as a tourist you’ll see a wave of urbanization. Buildings over buildings, like matchboxes stacked over each other, glued together. From a bird’s eye view, they look like cardboard cutouts in varying heights placed randomly. That’s how cities look like, right? Like blueprints in real time? Construction in every area. Flyovers at every stretch. Tall, wide ad banners in every sight, at every turn. You read in Hindi, it sounds like Marathi. A melodious rhythm that leaves you thinking their meanings. There are buildings called IT factories shaped in form of an egg, globe, geometrical structures of triangles, hexagons and pentagons, some lopsided and shapeless too, that seem like the architects’ messed up work. There’s keenness everywhere to cover them with tinted glass panes to hide the lives behind. They see you, you don’t. Instead, they reflect the bustling streets, the women behind carts, the men in faded dhotis, the bike riders, the car goers, the kirana dukaan, the traffic signals, the floating clouds, and the flying sparrows, like holding mirrors to the city. Its visible there for you to see. Like a slap you can’t turn your face away to. People and cultures merge, dissolving like water colors on paper blotched over each other. Some pockets murky, some clear, some overlapping into one another, each color varying in their depth and degrees. Overall it’s a beautiful blend of tradition and modernity, a beautiful picture you can’t ignore.

Pune, you are beautiful, no doubt. But I long to go back in time. To time when it spun back into history. Where the wadas came alive in their full splendor and their now dark staircases were filled with giggles and laughter from women of those times. Where modernity did not nudge the traditions and replace with this blend so quickly. Where the frail walls that stood strong to weather and time, spoke of valor. Where the cracks in cultures merged, the history disentangled itself and the heavens called for legacy to rule again.

In my ode to Pune, I bring this delicious Sabudana Vada from my kitchen to yours; a classical, traditional Maharastrian dish that I have loved for several years now. I made this in the fond yearning of the time spent there savoring local delicacies, sabudana khichdi, misal pav, vada pav and this sabudana vada. Its flavors sing to you in simplicity, bursting from the golden crisp pops of sago pearls, punctuated with potatoes, peanuts and chillies in each bite, each subtle and well blended. It's a thing you should try, incase you haven't.

Sabudana Vada

INGREDIENTS

1 cup sabudana / sago pearls
2 medium potatoes, boiled and mashed
1/2 cup roasted peanuts, coarsely ground
1 tsp cumin seeds
2-3 green chillies, chopped
2 tbsp. finely chopped coriander leaves
1 tsp. lemon juice
1 tsp. sugar
Salt to taste

DIRECTIONS

Wash the sago and soak it in just enough water to cover the pearls. Soak it for 4-5 hours or preferably overnight. In the morning, the pearls will be plump and doubled in size. For 1 cup of soaked sago, I used 1/3 cup of raw sago, washed and then soaked them in 1/2 cup of water for nearly 5 hours.

Combine all the ingredients in a bowl and mix well. Pinch a lemon sized portion out of the prepared vada mixture and shape it into ball. Gently flatten it with fingers. Prepare all the vadas to fry and keep them aside. Meanwhile, heat the oil in a thick bottom vessel and deep-fry the vadas on a medium flame till they are golden brown in color on either sides. Drain on kitchen paper. Serve hot with green chutney or tomato sauce.

How to make Besan wali Simla Mirch | Simla Mirch ki Subzi | Capsicum Recipe

When the weather plunged low, it brought along bouts of cold, incessant sneezing and coughs that plagued our home. We fell sick in a row, taking turns to seize the bed and blanket. The bedside table saw our favorite magazines being replaced with a spread of ayurvedic tonics, amrutanjan and all kinds of inhalers for the most desired relief. What good were those magazines when our eyes threatened to water in a stream and our nose constantly bled phlegm? It seemed like a trending viral infection as each of us made our way in and out of the bed, and nearly all of whom I knew were suffering the way I did. I nearly survived each day of that heavy headiness with glasses of warm water, hot kashaayas and dozens of handkerchiefs by my side. Days have finally passed by, recuperating and feeling much better, apparently much slower than we had liked. Coughing and sneezing are showing signs of receding, though the chest is still heavy with congestion. I hate fighting the dreaded infection, but alas!

On my way to recovery, with spurs of intermittent coughs and an inhaler constantly plugged into my nostrils, I am back to blogging with this recipe for Besan wali Simla Mirch that has been my favorite for long. I have been looking forward to share this with you for a while, however each time we make it, it's wiped clean till the last bit. It was hard to save this portion for this post! That gives you an idea of how much we love it. It's a simple dish where green bell peppers are paired with roasted gram flour and other spices bringing out amazing flavors. On days when I am time pressed to make a simple dal to pair along, this recipe comes a savior as it takes care of both the vegetable and dal in a single dish. We usually serve this as a side dish for chapatis / phulkas along with salads. I hope you enjoy it as much as we do.

Besan wali Simla Mirch

INGREDIENTS

1/2 cup gram flour / besan
3 medium sized capsicums, diced
1 inch Ginger, grated
1 tbsp. Oil
1 tsp. Mustard seeds
1 tsp. Red chili powder
1 tbsp. Coriander powder
1 tsp. Turmeric powder
3-4 tsp. Water
A generous pinch of asafoetida (hing)
1 tsp. sugar
Salt to taste

DIRECTIONS

In a wide mouthed pan, dry roast the gram flour (besan) it till it changes color slightly. The flour should smell fragrant as it is being roasted. Remove from the pan and set aside to cool.

Heat oil in a pan. Add mustard seeds and fry till the seeds crackle. Add hing and chopped ginger and fry for a minute. Then add the diced capsicum along with turmeric powder and saute it for few minutes till it's cooked, yet has a nice crunch. Add chilli powder, coriander powder, salt and sugar to taste and saute further on a low flame.

Add the roasted gram flour, sprinkling a couple of teaspoons of water into it. Cook on low flame for 10 mins. Transfer to a serving dish and garnish with coriander leaves. Serve hot with rotis or as sides with steaming hot rice.

Cheese Croutons Salad | Dijon Mustard and Honey Dressing Recipe

Earlier this month, we placed admissions for our daughter with a school here. It's her first stint of being at school and experiencing life outside the home here in the US. What we call as Nursery back in India, Kindergarten Prep is what they are known here. We opted the 3 day class with 3 hours per day to start with, where our little girl can play, learn and socialize with kids of her age like she did back in India. Unlike last year, I did not have butterflies fluttering my tummy this time around. :)

The school comes with promises. Like most schools do. With all those colorful brochures and pamphlets where couple of tiny tots from different ethnic races in their colorful attire thump their hands high up in the air with a tight fist symbolizing they will emerge to be toppers and winners, I pinned huge hopes on my daughter's learning here. The first two weeks went off in a whiz. Nothing much done. She walked in, played and walked out. She came back home happy with ugly sketch pen scribbles on paper that were below her capacity, or even for a three year old I suppose. Scribbling on paper is the first thing she did as 2 year old toddler. As a 4 year old today, she is equipped well to read and write alphabets and numbers and count them with ease. She draws well within borders and identifies good deal of animals, birds, colors, fruits, vegetables, et al. I expected continuity to her learning instead of re-learning those basics that are of least value to her.

Back in India where she spent a year at pre-school, the teaching curriculum was different than it is here. She went to school in an odd pairing of green blue uniform set, her most hated attire that she never recalls or speaks about here. Teaching, as monotonous it may sound was its methodical best. She had text books for each month - a month for colors, another on seasons, a month for food, a month dedicated to people around us, a month each of something to cover the year. She carried back homework every single day. There were notes with signatures exchanged between the teacher and the parent. Her school followed the Western style of teaching and curriculum, they claim. Yet, there was no respite to uniforms, truck load of homework, project work that seemed more a burden to the parents rather than the children. But in all, there was a lot she learnt progressively over the past one year. There were regular PTAs, a detailed progress card and it made me quite happy.

But here she goes. Essentially to a playschool in real sense. Play, fun and creative learning, they say. Scribbling on paper is no creative learning in my opinion. Its what toddlers do, not preschoolers. D says I could be the typical stereotype Indian mother who expects a lot of academic driven learning from the school and her daughter. I may not be the one, but if I am, I see no harm.

It could take a while for me to come to terms with these differences. Not too long, I know. But by then it will be time for us to head back to India. Till then its stress free, happy learning and exploring for her. For now, I see joy in her making new friends, mingling into diverse cultures and am glad she is enjoying every bit of her preschooler life.

Coming to the recipe, I have this gorgeous salad for you that is not actually complicated to put together as it may sound by the length of this recipe below. You may choose store bought bread croutons or just skip them all together. Even with the basic ingredients this salad gets notched up with sharpness from Feta cheese and Dijon mustard and Honey dressing. The cheesy bread croutons give a lovely crunch and go very well with the sweet-sour salad dressing.

Salad Leaves with Croutons, Pine Nuts, Feta Cheese with Dijon Mustard and Honey Dressing

INGREDIENTS

3 cups packed organic salad leaves (I used a mix of variety of lettuce, baby spinach, romaine, kale, arugula, etc.)
1 tbsp. cup pine nuts
2 tbsp. Feta cheese

For the cheese bread croutons:

2-3 slices of whole wheat bread
1-2 tbsp. olive oil
1 tsp. Italian herbs
2 tbsp. of mild cheddar

For the Dijon Mustard and Honey salad dressing:

1/2 tbsp. lime juice
1 tbsp. mayonnaise
1 tbsp. olive oil
1 tsp. Dijon mustard
1 tbsp. honey
Salt and pepper, to taste

DIRECTIONS

Chop bread slices to cubes of 1.5" each and arrange them side by side on a baking tray. Drizzle some olive oil and sprinkle some dried Italian herbs on them. Bake them in a pre-heated oven at 180 deg C (356 deg F) for 14-16 mins flipping over mid way to ensure even browning. Grate 2 tbsp. of cheddar cheese evenly over these bread cubes and bake them further for 5-6 mins. Remove and allow it to cool on a wire rack. They should crisp well as they cool down.

In a large salad bowl, toss the mixed salad leaves along with the baked bread croutons and pine nuts. Set aside to be tossed with dressing of your choice.

For the salad dressing:

Whisk lime juice, mayonnaise, olive oil, Dijon mustard, honey, salt and pepper in a bowl.

To put the salad together, drizzle a generous amount of the prepared Dijon mustard and honey dressing and toss them together. Serve immediately.

Notes:

To make it gluten free, skip the bread croutons or substitute the same with gluten free bread.

Right at the fag end of the year, in midst of the festivals that went by past month and more awaiting the mark of year ending, here I am making every sincere attempt to blog and replenish my repertoire with some recipes to tease your taste buds. With barely a blog post a month in the recent past, I have been panting hard to fuel this space with enough meat off late, more evidently seen from the sparse posts that pop out of my drafts occasionally or my dwindling presence on any social networking forum. The motivation, that has been lacking from several other personal commitments consuming my time and the dear camera lens of mine that gave upon me recently. Yet, at the hindsight of my brain lingers a constant thought to fuel this little space of mine with recipes, even if that means battling a writer's block or picking an offbeat recipe from my drafts for a go.

It hit upon me hard how fast the time is fleeting by and how much close we are to the year end when the folks at Sheraton reached out to me to be a part of their Cake Mixing ceremony. December already? Almost. I think hard. My thoughts racing by. My heart pounding faster. Where and how did I let the time go? The Indian festivities crept in and they slid by sooner than I had realized. We cooked a lot. Partied, merried and ate well too. The usual course of chalkis, laddus, karjikai, shankarpali, nippattus, masala shenga and whatnot was followed this season too. We made them all at home and saw joy in sharing them with our family and friends. But none of them made it here. And I barely realized it go by.

So I bring about these simple, deliciously spiced and roasted walnuts for the Thanksgiving today. The spices that go in it to tangle the taste buds with measures of salt, spice and sweetness. They are baked and can be stored for a while. They make excellent for gifting your friends and relatives. And I hope they make up for the loss of all those recipes I have been meaning to post here for a while!

Spiced Roasted Walnuts

INGREDIENTS

1 tablespoon honey
2 teaspoons olive oil
2 cups walnut halves
2 tablespoons sugar
1 teaspoon coarse salt
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1/2 tablespoon ground coriander
1/8 teaspoon red chilli powder

DIRECTIONS

In a large bowl, whisk honey and oil. Add in the sugar, salt, cumin, coriander, and red chilli powder. Toss in walnuts; mix well to coat. Transfer to a baking tray and bake in a pre-heated oven of 200 deg C for atleast 20 minutes. Remove and allow to cool completely. Store in an air-tight container.