W hen the sweet-faced teenager navigating a shopping cart in the narrow aisle asked her to “excuse me, Aunty”, she turned and stared. “I’m not your aunty,” she told him severely, and as he watched the boy’s face fall, Amar turned away and smiled to himself, but not without some exasperation
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Everybody Loves A Happy Ending – Of Chalks & Chopsticks
Last evening, after not being able to handle the scorching heat of Noida, me and my family decided to spend some cool time by window shopping in Great India Place and increase the footfall in the mall by some numbers. So, having gone through some shops specially Odyssey, we decided to have dinner in GIP itself
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Kaustubh – Great India Place, Noida
I t’s often the very small things in life that can make you feel wildly happy. (Ah yes, the armchair philosopher has begun spouting Wisdom for the Week – but do humour her – just as you would a rather green-behind-the ears DJ on a music channel proffering love and life advice – it’s just some home-spun experience extrapolated to a world, nay, universal view …) Well, yes, how would you account for the fact that one of life’s happiest moments, perhaps the only one, was when she discovered how to get dry yeast to work? And the second happiest moment, just a few days ago, when she discovered her favourite brand of frozen (cleaned and deveined) prawns had made a comeback
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Salad Days
T he jaundice had whittled her down by half or more, and everyone was exclaiming over the transformation. She was just nine, too young to hope the loss of appetite would be permanent in the interests of her figure. Her grandparents fussed over her, making sure she took the Liv 52 and other medicines on time, pleading with her to eat “something at least”
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Cabbage, Chalks And Chopsticks
T he week started off with what was meant to be a spouse-pleasing biriyani, but the dustbin, not his stomach, became its receptacle instead. Don’t try to imitate the dum action by weighing down a light and unsteady lid with a heavy stone mortar and pestle. They will overturn the lid and fall inside the biriyani if you’re lucky, otherwise spill the biriyani all over the stove and under the microwave, in which process you would burn your arms too.
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Of Lucky Escapes, Quinoa & The Past Week
S oon after I took Sandeepa’s cue and wrote my foodie short story , Aquadaze mailed us both wondering whether we’d like to turn this into an event. Both of us liked the idea a lot, I think mainly because it would get us to dust the cobwebs off our fiction writing, and asked Aqua to kick it off. Well, she has.
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Of Chalks And Chopsticks
A unty and her friend were chatting in the back garden, the long lines of drying clothes ensuring they couldn’t be observed very well from inside the house. The niece came out and called to them. Aunty’s brow furrowed in irritation but when she separated a skirt and a sari and peered through them, her gaze softened – her niece had come bearing a plate of green mangoes along with a knife for them to enjoy
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In An Instant, Pickle & Fiction Both
T his is something that has been on my mind for a while but reading Indo’s and Sandeepa’s latest posts , I decided it’s time I did some musing too, though my post is not directly related to theirs. As bloggers, and those who write mostly about food, there’s a lot we write about ‘the tradition in my family’.
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What’s Your Tradition?
T his is an accidental recipe full of familiar flavors: too much salt, too much grease, un-soft rice, brinjal/eggplant, lime juice. Funnily enough, some discussion on BT brinjal had me buying two packets of the vegetable, the brinjal part of it, that is, not the BT. They didn’t look oversized or particularly beautiful, which meant that they probably weren’t extra-chemically treated than the other vegetables around them, so I brought them home
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An Accidental Recipe
R ecently, I failed at making chaaru . Like I had failed with this staple many times in the past, even with ready-to-cook packets and powders that ensured I didn’t have to do anything much. I don’t even attempt the varieties made back home, except for tomato chaaru (rasam), and that’s mostly only when the several shrivelling tomatoes inside the fridge loudly call out to be pressure-cooked into rasam
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When My Soup Didn’t Come Alive
M ay this year and the years to come be full of L ife L ove H ope L uck Here’s a charming recipe I found: Take twelve fine, full-grown months; see that these are thoroughly free from old memories of bitterness, rancor and hate, cleanse them completely from every clinging spite; pick off all specks of pettiness and littleness; in short, see that these months are freed from all the past—have them fresh and clean as when they first came from the great storehouse of Time. Cut these months into thirty or thirty-one equal parts. Do not attempt to make up the whole batch at one time (so many persons spoil the entire lot this way) but prepare one day at a time.
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The Choicest Four-Letter Words
F inally, I’ve not been my infamously inflexible host self at all, though that was due to a mistake and not the milk of human kindness – no harm done, though; I love the entries for The Write Taste all the same, they are different, and I’m sure you will all have a wonderful time feasting your eyes on them. The gracious host that I have evolved into, I’m not going to say a single word about how surprised I was that there weren’t more entries; that I always thought it would be easier to discuss food and cooking than actually create it; that I’m so hysterically grateful to those who participated.
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Rounding Up The Write Taste
I know I promised to make my search terms a regular feature and I’m going to stick by it. But before I list the most hilarious search times since the last such post, I have a “peculiar egg curry” for you (yeah, that was a search term I just saw in my stats.) I keep talking of how I always ignore recipes that are very familiar and traditional family favourites in quest of the unfamiliar and the exotic. Sometimes the presence of the former on someone else’s table really jolts your memory, and this recipe is one such
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Eggs, Forgotten & Recreated + Keyword Humour