Pesarattu (Moong Dal Crepes)

August is approaching, and with it the monsoon of wedding invitations that descends on every Indian-American family between August and November. Three arrived this week alone — Kamala Aunty's nephew, Appa's colleague's daughter, and a second cousin I've met once and whose name I'm not entirely sure of. Indian weddings in New Jersey are productions. Not events — productions. Multi-day affairs with matching outfits and catered banquets and enough gold jewelry to fund a small country. Each one requires a new sari (Amma insists), a gift (cash, always cash, in a specific denomination), and the stamina of a marathon runner because the ceremonies start at 7 AM and the receptions don't end until midnight. I love them. I love the excess, the color, the music, the food. I love that an Indian wedding in Edison, New Jersey, in 2017, looks almost exactly like an Indian wedding in Chennai in 1985, because the rituals travel. The fire, the mantras, the seven steps, the turmeric and kumkum — these are the things my parents brought with them, packed alongside their degrees and their hope. Raj and I went to the first wedding on Saturday — Kamala Aunty's nephew, marrying a girl from Texas in a massive hall in Woodbridge. The bride was Telugu; the groom was Tamil. The food was both: pesarattu alongside dosa, gongura alongside sambar, the two cuisines side by side the way the two families now stand. I ate too much. This is the only appropriate response to an Indian wedding buffet. I had pesarattu (moong dal crepes — Telugu specialty, new to me, and immediately filed under "must learn to make"), goat biryani, rasam, gulab jamun, and three types of halwa. Raj had two plates of the biryani and a plate of the desserts and then said, "I think I need to walk," which is what doctors say when they mean "I overate and I'm ashamed." Amma worked the room. At Indian weddings, Amma transforms from a retired library worker into a social general — she knows everyone, remembers everyone's children's grades, and has opinions about everyone's cooking that she shares freely. She told Kamala Aunty that the gongura was "interesting" (Amma code for "not as good as mine") and told the bride's mother that the bride was "very fair" (a compliment in Amma's generation, a cringe in mine). I danced at the reception. Not well — Tamil people are not renowned dancers — but joyfully. Raj spun me around the dance floor with the confidence of a man who thinks he can dance (he cannot) and the enthusiasm of a man who doesn't care (he doesn't). And for three hours, I was just a woman at a wedding, full of biryani and happiness, not thinking about miscarriages or fertility apps or the things I've lost. Some nights, joy is enough.

I made a mental note the moment that first pesarattu hit my plate at the Woodbridge reception: find out how this is made. There’s something almost miraculous about a crepe built entirely from soaked moong dal — no rice, no flour, just the dal itself ground into a batter that crisps at the edges and stays tender in the center. I came home still a little full of biryani and halwa and looked it up before I even took off my sari. The recipe turned out to be simpler than I deserved after that much dessert, and it has been in my regular rotation ever since — a small, joyful souvenir from an evening when joy was more than enough.

Prep Time: 15 min (plus 8 hr soaking) | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 8 hr 40 min (mostly inactive) | Servings: 4 (about 10 crepes)

Ingredients

1 cup whole green moong dal, rinsed well
2 green chilies, roughly chopped (adjust to taste)
1-inch piece fresh ginger, peeled and roughly chopped
1/2 tsp cumin seeds
3/4 tsp salt, or to taste
1/3 to 1/2 cup water, as needed for blending
2 tbsp neutral oil, plus more for the pan
1/4 cup finely diced white onion (optional, for topping)
2 tbsp finely chopped fresh cilantro (optional, for topping)
Ginger chutney or coconut chutney, for serving

Instructions

Soak the dal. Place the moong dal in a large bowl and cover with cold water by at least 2 inches. Soak at room temperature for 8 hours or overnight. The dal will swell and soften considerably.
Drain and blend. Drain the soaked dal and transfer it to a blender along with the green chilies, ginger, cumin seeds, and salt. Add 1/3 cup water and blend on high until you have a smooth, pourable batter — similar in consistency to thin pancake batter. Add the remaining water a tablespoon at a time only if the batter is too thick to spread. Taste and adjust salt.
Rest the batter. Let the batter sit uncovered for 10 minutes while you heat the pan. This brief rest helps the crepes crisp more evenly.
Heat the pan. Place a 10- or 12-inch nonstick skillet or well-seasoned cast iron pan over medium-high heat. When a drop of water flicked onto the surface evaporates immediately, the pan is ready. Add 1/2 tsp oil and swirl to coat.
Spread the crepe. Pour about 1/4 cup batter onto the center of the pan and, using the back of a spoon or a ladle, quickly spread it outward in a thin, even circle roughly 8 inches in diameter. Work fast — the batter sets quickly. Scatter a small pinch of diced onion and cilantro over the top if using.
Cook the first side. Drizzle 1/4 tsp oil around the edges of the crepe. Cook undisturbed for 2 to 2 and 1/2 minutes, until the edges are visibly golden and crisp and the surface looks dry and set rather than wet.
Flip and finish. Carefully flip the crepe using a wide spatula and cook the second side for 30 to 45 seconds, until lightly spotted golden. The second side will not be as evenly colored as the first — that is normal and correct.
Repeat. Slide the finished crepe onto a plate and repeat with the remaining batter, adding a fresh film of oil to the pan between each crepe. Stack finished crepes — they will stay warm and will not stick together.
Serve immediately. Pesarattu are best eaten within minutes of leaving the pan, while the edges are still crisp. Serve with ginger chutney, coconut chutney, or both.

Nutrition (per serving, about 2–3 crepes, without chutney)

Pesarattu (Moong Dal Crepes) — The Wedding Dish I Had to Learn to Make