Tikkis from leftover Upma

Last and the week last to that have been filled with disappointments. Which left me with a lack of enthusiasm to come over and write anything. The morose feeling was so deep settled that I still have not been able to come out of it.
Disappointments are a way of life and I am used to dealing with them.
But people, who otherwise walk about in life with and appear to be warm, friendly and sincere, actually show their ignorance or neglect or whatever it is, it hurts.
When you know them as persons who care and as friends and then find them to be actually cold and selfish.
They will be around when they need a human handkerchief .... someone to dump their woes on.
And then disappear .... giving nary a thought to how you are faring or a simple line of goodwill.
I enquire because I care; I try to stay in touch because I want to; not because I have nothing else to do; not because I am never bogged down by the unfair ways of life.

Which is why I have finally decided to give away a little less of myself away ; henceforth.

Anyway, a couple of weeks back, we went for the movie Padmavati or Padmavat or whatever. Pushing aside the still hanging heavy fracas all around regarding the movie, we went.
Or rather I went; dragging B along.
We were fully aware of the kind of movies the guy makes and so had kept all our logic, better judgements and expectations at home.
I had watched Bajirao Mastani earlier and had actually liked it ( which B attributes to my lack of knowledge regarding the real story ... and which I agree to ) ;
and have actually sat through Devdas the whole length through ( which again B attributes to have nothing to do with the movie but his company ) ... to which I agree too.
And had wondered just how bad can this new one be.

Well , we were not even halfway through the movie and I had already started to plead 'let's leave'.
B grinned and stayed put.
He had actually given me a look when I had said that I wanted to see the movie for the sets and grandeur that its maker is so known for.
Even if I am not one to be so frivolous.
So, that is what I was expected to do ... sit through the movie and all its 'grandeur'.

To top it, the stale samosas and lukewarm cold drink did not help at all.
Inox, Bund Garden Road, Pune, has been our favourite haunt for watching movies. 
But not anymore.
Maintenence is zero , the food is appalling and the screen lighting is way too poor.
The whole movie was such a disappointment just because of that dim lit screen.
And the cherry on the cake was Inox's latest hobby ... cutting scenes.
This is worse during weekdays when a whole movie starts and ends within an hour and a half ... including breaks.
As well as advertisements .... which are innumerable during half time ... so much so that one actually wonders if someone has forgotten to restart the movie.

With a heavy heart I promised never to visit Inox Bund garden, ever again.

The third disappointment came this weekend when we, for lack of doing anything better, decided to drive down the old Pune Mumbai highway for a lunch in one of the dhabas on the roadsides.
Pune's spring is fabulous.
And this weather is to be outdoors .... in the bright sun, cool breeze that has a hint of summer and beautiful evenings that have started to tarry a wee little longer before turning dark.
So off we went.

While we had already tried the food at Sunny da dhaba and Toni da dhaba, we hadn't tried Babbi da dhaba.
To be very honest, there isn't much difference between the three ... foodwise.
All of them serve the same, red coloured tandoori chicken.
I have been on the lookout for a good Butter chicken ever since I left home ... where we got the best butter chicken ever in the Punjabi dhabas on the highways.... and have tried umpteen number of places, risking health.
Only to be disappointed, as always.
This time too was not an exception.
The Butter chicken that came was bloody red in colour, with strips of boneless chicken in the overly sweet gravy, that promptly stained my fingers with a colour that refused to go till the next day.
B's dal makhni was full of Rajma and had the strong smell of raw turmeric.
The dry Chole was however good .... just stir fried Pindi Chole with onions and some masalas.
And I loved the crisp tandoori rotis .... made of maida though.

And that was not the end of the story.
Exactly five minutes into our return journey, I could feel that familiar soreness in my throat and the feeling of choking.
The darned food had ajinomoto / monosodium glutamate in it !!
It is usual for small eateries to add ajinomoto to dals and gravies as taste enhancer .... for that special, smoky flavour, these  days.
Most people do not know, or not notice or don't care.
But I do because I am allergic to ajinomoto .... hence no better tester than me.
And since eating in small joints is now a thing of past for us, the ajinomoto thing had completely skipped my mind.

The only saving grace that evening was the evening itself.
As we drove homewards by the beautiful, dark grey hillocks against the setting sun, we talked about the old days when we would hop on our trusty old bike and zoom off towards the highways, with hardly any traffic to deal with on the way, and sit beside the road at any eatery or dhaba and enjoy a good meal of hot rotis and a fragrant, simple dal.
Life sure has changed.
And so has Pune; drastically.

Coming to today's recipe, it is not much of one.
Long back, during the monsoon months, I had made Upma one day, for breakfast.
And had a bulk of leftover.
Asked my blogger friends and got varied recipes out of which I took a little from all and made these tikkis or patties.

My Upma already had onions and grated coconut, so all I did was add some boiled potatoes and used some dal water (from the chana dal / Bengal gram lentils that I had boiled for later use ) to soften it.
Plain water would have diluted the taste; also the water from the boiled dal added to the flavour too.

Threw in some chopped, fresh green chillies and a spoonful of Maharashtrian peanuts chutney for some zing.
Rolled them in breadcrumbs seasoned with chilli flakes and fried them with very few drops of oil in my well seasoned iron tawa / skillet.
Some ketchup and adrakwali chai ( ginger tea ) on the side and we happily welcomed the dark skies and the drizzle that day. 

I had clicked the photos on my phone ... so I know they are not much to write home about.
But do try these crisp on the outside and soft, 'melt in the mouth' inside  tikkis the next time you have some leftover Upma.
I know you will love them.

Make for perfect snacks anytime of the day ... especially during winter and the cool monsoon months.

Cheerio all!!

Mooli ka Thepla / Radish flatbreads

It is quiet all around. Except for the birds ... flying and chirping and singing busily. The parrots are going crazy, screeching and playing around in the trees. There is a particularly large group living here and are the noisiest ones around.
It is a delight to watch them everyday and especially when it rains. ( I recently shared a video on Instagram of them bathing in a sudden shower. )
The sun has just come up from behind the little hillock in the east and I can see the brightness all around on the trees and their shining leaves ... but not the sun, not yet, as I am on my balcony in the west.
It is a gorgeous morning and still cold. And breezy too.
The rains are nowhere in sight but there are clouds, lazily passing by ... large puffs of white. An occasional dark one does pass by too, but it is too small to dim the brightness all around.
I take a sip of my Darjeeling tea. The breeze is strong and lulls the swing a little. Good ... since I did not want to move an inch.
Reclining on the swing, my feet to not reach the ground.
So I am grateful for the strong breeze.

A bulbul darts in and sits on the terracotta water bowl. I stay still.
Ever alert, it jumps up and down a little, looks this way and that quickly and jumps into the water.
Splashes around, gives a few quick dips and jumps up on to the rim again, shakes all over to throw away the excess water and is gone. Just like that ... in the blink of an eye.
I finally relax and move to wipe the water droplets on my arm.

It is a gorgeous morning.
I take another sip ... the steam is still coming out of the cup and curls upwards.
I am tempted to go back inside and get my half read book. I have just got my hands on Amish's Sita, finally, and am hooked to it ... just like I am to the rest of his books.
But I don't.
I love my time with myself and nature in the mornings and decide not to let anything else come in between. I can read later.
After all, the rains will start eventually. And I won't get to sit outside this way for sometime.

I will be away, at home.
Where it rains like all hell has broken loose. With thunder and lightening. With huge storm winds.
Where you see the sky turn ominously red, in the nights and know that it is going to pour soon. Pour incessantly; ceaselessly.
Where I will have to go back again and again, at this time of the year, when I rather would not.
When I would rather hide, burrow myself deep somewhere, or get lost somewhere where painful memories cannot reach me.
When I will have to relive those moments of agonising helplessness, relentless yet futile hope and the pain of seeing my father sink slowly into oblivion.
Where I will be reminded and mocked by life about the amount of time that has gone by, without him around me. And I can do nothing about it.
Where I will have to stay in those rooms and see him in every nook and corner of his beloved house.
Where I can see all his things around but not him.
Where my heart will burst with pain every single moment and yet I will be alive, with his memories and his absence.

The rains, that I had loved so much once upon a time, bring only pain to me now.

I have been trying to focus and bring myself to write a post before I leave, but the days are pure mayhem right now. The heart is heavy and yet, there are preparations to be made. I have been cooking in bulk and freezing. Then I need to pack too.
And to cap it all perfectly, we are having guests, relatives we cannot ignore.
So even a minute of a breather is welcome right now, but a far dream.

I will leave you with this thepla that makes for a filling breakfast as well as a dinner too.
I have made this mooli / radish, you can use any vegetable of your choice too.
A thepla is different from a stuffed paratha ... it has the vegetables kneaded in with the flours.
I say flours because I often add different kind of flours ... jowar, makka/maize, rice or a little besan. While the nutritional value does go up, the mutigrain flours add some extra flavours too.

Need :

Whole wheat flour - 8tbsp
Jowar / sorgum flour - 2 tbsp
Makka / maize flour - 1tbsp
Besan / Bengal gram flour - 1 tbsp
( If you do not have these flours, you can make with plain whole wheat flour too. )
Grated mooli / radish - 1½ cups
Ajwain / carrom seeds - ½ tsp
Red chilli powder - 1 tsp
Chopped coriander leaves - 2 tsp
Amchur / dry mango powder - 1 tsp
Salt - to taste
Oil - to fry , 1 tbsp to add to the dough while kneading
Water - to knead dough

How to :

Knead everything together to make a firm, not tough, pliable dough.

Cut out small balls and roll them into round parathas.

Heat a well seasoned tawa and fry them one at a time, smearing a little oil on both side to brown them.

Serve hot with raita and achar / pickle.
The achar in the picture is my home made Amla ka achar.

Enjoy!!
And have a happy monsoon filled with fun and food!

Bhaja Khichuri / Dala Khechedi

 

There is something about the rains that can turn anyone into a hopeless romantic.
One look outside the window, with some time at hand, and you are sure to write verses.
Dreamy, cloudy skies. The persistent screen of rain. The breeze ... somewhere balmy; somewhere cold.
A fluttering curtain. A twirl of smoke above a cup.
Fresh green everywhere.

And ....
The smell of ghee, roasted dal and jeera wafting from the kitchen.
Khichuri!
That aroma itself can turn a Bengali into a poet.

There is something that binds the khichuri and the rains and a Bengali together.
If it is raining, it has to be khichuri on the day's menu. There may or may not be a maach bhaja on the side; even better if it is an Ilish maach bhaja.
But other wise, khichuri has a lot of other accompaniments go with it. Most of them will be deep fried bhajas or boras.
Then there will be the labra or a mix vegetable on the side.
Followed by the tomato chaatni and Papor(papad) bhaja.

I had made this khichuri a few days back when an old friend, D, had dropped in to watch the Ratha yatra on the telly with me. She does have a telly at home, but wanted to be with me this year when I will be watching the rath without getting Bapi's call in the morning ... "Tv ta chaala .... roth shuru hoye jabe je!!"

There was no fish at home. And somehow this niramish khichuri seemed apt on this auspicious day when Lord Jagannath sets off for a vacation to his aunt's place.
D watched with amusement as I quickly lay the table and arranged this cluster to click a few snaps.
I was in such a hurry that none of the photos came out well .... the sun played spoilsport too and it was very cloudy.
But that will make no difference to the taste or the flavour of this beautiful khichuri.

This is also called the Dala khechedi in Oriya.
Very different from the Bengali dhala ( of pouring consistency) khichuri, this khichuri is very dry and the grains of the rice and the dal are not cooked into much. Rather, they will stay whole and just done.

I love coconut .... so added it.
You may skip it in this khichuri.

Here is a closer look at the texture.

Need :

Yellow moong dal - 1 cup
( The traditional Oriya Dala khechedi has moong dal with the skin on )
Rice - ½ cup
Jeera - 1 tsp
Tej pata - 1
Whole red chillies - 2, broken
Black cardamom - 1, broken
Cinnamon - 1 small piece
Grated or chopped ginger - 1 tbsp
Haldi powder - 1 tsp
Red chilli powder - 1 tsp
Roasted jeera powder - 1 tsp
Grated coconut ( optional ) - 5 tbsp
Ghee - 1 tbsp + 1 tsp
Oil - 1 tbsp
Sugar - to taste
Salt - to taste
Hot water - around 4 cups

How to :

Dry roast the dal in a thick bottomed, heavy kadahi, on low heat.
Stir constantly. Do not brown.
Roast only till you get the nutty aroma of roasted dal.

If you have a kitchen exhaust, I suggest you keep it switched off now ... you may not get the aroma; a major part.

Wash the rice and the dal and keep aside.

Heat oil +  ghee in the same heavy kadahi.
Add jeera +  tej patta + whole red chillies + black cardamom + cinnamon.

Add the chopped ginger.
Fry well.

Add the haldi powder + red chilli powder + the rice and dal.

Mix around well and keep stirring on low heat till everything is dryish.
This will take around 5 to 7 minutes.

Raise heat and add the hot water + salt + sugar + roasted jeera powder + 1 tsp ghee.

Cover and cook till rice is just done.
Do check for water in between ... but do not add too much.

When the rice is not too soft but done, switch off heat and let it stand covered for 5 more minutes.

After 5 minutes, remove cover and fluff it lightly with a spoon or fork.

Serve hot.

I had made the Ramrochak tarkari instead of the labra .... to give a feel of Odiya food.
And the Tomato chaatni with khejur / dates .... the quintessential Bengali as well as Odiya favourite to go with the khichuri.
And of course papor bhaja.

You can pair it with fried vegetables like the brinjal, pumpkin or the parwal too.
My home made Aamer achar came to join the band too.

All in all .... had a good time with good friend, good food and reliving memories.
No complaints there ... not even to Jagannath too.

Enjoy!!

Chilke ke pakode / Fritters made from vegetable peels

 "Munh ki baat sune har koi, dil ke dard ko jaane kaun,
Awaazon ke bazaaron mein, khamoshi pehchane kaun .... "

My favourite ghazal singer mourns soulfully as I sit at the window, watching the light rain outside.
The room fills with his deep, heavy voice and spreads a blanket of sighs all over.
The grey from outside seeps in through the large glass windows; doing little to add any brightness.
I wish I had changed the dark, heavy curtains of summer earlier ... I think.
Now I do not feel like. So they too do their bit to add to the sense of grey.

I sit there, snuggled into a warm comforter, a picture of laziness personified, and watch the rain dance on the branches and the leaves of trees.
And the birds too.
Soaked to their skin, a crow and two koyels sit in different branches of the coconut tree, fluffing up and shaking vigorously in an futile attempt to dry themselves.
A bulbul sits atop a heavy branch, right at the top. But not for long.
The rain is too heavy for it to bear.

I sit and soak in the quiet all around.
Of late, I do not feel like talking or writing much. Too much of noise all around.
Too many people talking; too many opinions.
Too much aggression and force to put points forth.
Too loud thoughts. Too few listeners.
Everybody talking at once.
Too tiring; too overbearing.
Too overwhelming.

So I go through the days saying nothing. Or hearing nothing.
I like this quiet in me and am going to savour it for as long as I like it.

I like the dark, rainy days.
There is a sense of soothing severity in them.
They push us to quieten down. And take in the beautiful transition that goes on in nature.
While the soul soothing and all nourishing rain dances outside, the mind is pushed into sitting back and rest.

"Kiran kiran alsaata sooraj, palak palak khulti needein,
Dheeme dheeme bikhar raha hai, zarra zarra jaane kaun ... "

Unnh huh.
No bikharna.
I am trying to get a grip on myself.
Pick up my cup of tea that is fast getting cold and take a sip.
And turn to my blog.

I often make these pakodas, especially when I am making the Chorchori or any other mixed vegetable curry. Using different kinds of vegetables allows me to have all kinds of peels and this is a good way to use them.
Just make sure the vegetables are fresh.

Need :

 Vegetable peels -
I used potato, ridge gourd (turai), pumpkin and pointed gourd (parwal / potol ), around 1 cup
Onion - 1 medium
Green chillies - 2 or more
Besan - 4 tbsp
Rice flour - 1 tbsp
Haldi powder - 1 pinch
Red chilli powder - 1 tsp
Baking soda - a little pinch
Fresh coriander leaves - chopped
A little water
Salt - to taste
Oil for deep frying

How to :

Wash the vegetables well.
Peel them with a knife ... keeping the skin slightly thicker than usual.
Soak them in salt water for a while.

Slice them into thin, long pieces.

Slice the onions.

Mix everything, except the oil, together with a little water to make a thick paste.

Heat enough oil in a deep, heavy kadahi.

Scoop out small balls and let into the oil carefully.

Fry on low heat till golden brown.

Drain and remove. Keep on paper napkins to drain extra oil.

 Serve hot with ketchup, any chutney or kasundi.
And of course, a cup of very hot drink.

Perfect for these rainy days when the heart longs for something hot, spicy and deep fried goodies.

"Aankhon se aansooon ka marasim purane hai,
Mehmaan yeh ghar mein aaye toh chubhta nahi dhuaan .... " Yes.
Tears will be treated as guests in our lives.
Will be welcomed with warm hearts.


Stay well friends.

Badi Santula / Vegetables cooked with dried lentil dumplings

I just can't have enough of the rains.
Ever.
Last week it had rained non stop for three to four days. With dark clouds, heavy wind and fog.
Pune's rains are like quiet children.
They will be around yet you won't feel their presence. Calm, quiet, a little shy and not at all noisy or rude.
So unless you are in the vicinity of a window or the outdoors, most of the time you won't even know it is raining. And in the earnest, too.
So every time I knew it was raining, I would drop everything and rush to the windows.
We have huge bay windows and even the slightest opening is enough to drive the heavy  wind inside, resulting in papers, pens, glasses and other things flying off the dining table and whirling around in the rest of the house.
And god help me if there is a newspaper around.
Still, nothing could stop me from opening the window ... even a wee little bit ... and smell the wet air deep. The smell of rain and fresh, wet leaves and the earth and grass ... everything reaches deep into me and my soul.
Such freshness!
Such peace!

Now we are back to cheerful, sunny days, though there are clouds hovering in the horizon.
Very soon, they will come over. And stay for a while.
And I can spend more time near my windows. Yes, I have even moved a sofa to be real near.
To be able to feel the spray on my face .
And let the cold wind take my breath away.
My poncho is almost done. Hopefully I will be able to snuggle into it too.
And my favourite writer's latest book is at hand. I am saving it for the rains.
Yes, I can be patient.

I don't know about the rest of the country, but rains in Pune means cold weather.
And with the temperature almost nearing 17 degrees, to me it is very, very cold weather.
Which reads, along with the Bengali favourite Khichudi, blankets, shawls and sometimes the heater too.
And Pithe.
Or Pithas. The Odiya pithas. Mostly the savoury ones.
And some garam garam, light, soupy Santula to go with them. 

Growing up in Orissa / Odisha meant being familiar to Odiya food as much as I am familiar to Bengali food. And the Oriya lady who stayed with us and did the cooking most of the time played a big role in this.
Most Oriya pithas , especially the savoury ones, are accompanied with a light vegetable curry like the Dalma or this santula.
While the dalma is made with dal/lentils and vegetables, the Santula has just vegetables in it. And sometimes the badis or sun dried lentil dumplings are added to it too.

The most common pithas that have the Santula as an accompaniment is the Chakuli pitha, the Santula pitha, the savoury Podo pitha and a few others too.
However, this light, comforting curry is eaten with rotis or rice too. 

All you will need is a few vegetables.
No masalas. Yet delightfully flavourful.

Need :

Vegetables - cut into cubes , around 1 small bowlful
( I had raw, papaya, raw bananas, parwal / pointed gourd, brinjals, potatoes. You can use pumpkins, sweet potatoes ... any vegetables of your choice )

Badis / Vadis / Boris - a small handful
Garlic - a few cloves. smashed
Jeera / Cumin seeds - 1 tsp
Turmeric / Haldi powder - just a pinch 
Onion - 1 medium, chopped
Whole red chillies - 2, broken
Cooking oil - 2 tbsp ( I use mustard oil )
Salt - to taste
Water - 4 cups or more if needed

How to :

Fry the badis and keep aside.

Heat 1 tbsp oil in a heavy kadahi / wok till it is smoking hot.
Lower heat and add jeera, the red chillies, onions and the garlic.
Fry for a while.

Now raise heat and add the vegetables.
Stir fry for a while on high heat.

Add salt and the haldi powder. Fry well.

Add enough water to submerge the vegetables, cover and cook till they are well done.

Remove cover, check for water.
Add some more and add the badis (they will soak up water).

Cover and cook for 5 more minutes ( more if using bigger sized badis).

Remove cover and check.
The vegetables will by now have mixed together well and the badis must have soaked up the gravy well.

Remove from heat , add a dollop of ghee (if you want to ) and cover and let it stand for 5 minutes.

Serve fresh and steaming hot.

I was tempted to sprinkle some roasted jeera powder on top, but resisted myself.
And I'm glad I did.
Because the flavours of the vegetables and the slight hint of garlic and the badis had mixed together and was divinely wonderful!

We had it with rotis for lunch.

Try this one of these days.
After a day long's work, enjoy this comforting, light jhol with some soft, hot rotis for dinner.
With the rain keeping you company from the outside.

And don't forget to let me know how you like it.

Enjoy!!

Pictures speak - Rain!

Today, no recipes. No ramblings.
Today there will be quiet.
Today, we will just sit and watch the marvels of a wonder.
A wonder called Rain!

 The clouds passing by!

 Do you see what I see?!

 My garden is happy too.

 

 Even the Tulsi is blooming.

Hope you are enjoying the monsoons too.
So long all!!

Narkel dudh diye Ilish / Hilsa cooked in coconut milk

While the season is in and I am still on the topic of Ilish, I thought I should finally post this wonderful recipe that I had tried out and absolutely loved, some two years back.

Just my kind of cooking, simple yet flavourful, this recipe has the wonderful sweetness of the coconut milk infused with that unique flavour of the Hilsa fish.
With a hint of jeera in that mustard paste, the flavour is just great.

My blogger friend  Arundhuti S. Rama of the beautiful blog My Saffron Kitchen, had shared this recipe, which actually belongs to her mother.
I had tried it out then and had clicked some photos too. But never got 'round to making a post on it.
Finally bringing it out into the light.

Thank you Arundhuti Rama and Mashima for this wonderful recipe!

Need:

Ilish pieces - 3, lightly fried
Mustard oil - 1 tbsp
Thick Coconut milk - 6 tbsp
Grated ginger - 1 tsp
Salt - to taste

For the paste :
Yellow mustard seeds / shada shorshe  - 1 tbsp (soaked for around half an hour)
Posto / khus khus  - 1 tsp (soaked for around half an hour )
Jeera / cumin seeds - half teaspoon
Green chillies - 2

How to  :

Make a paste of all the mentioned ingredients.

Heat the mustard oil , add the paste and keep frying till the rawness goes away.

When it starts to get slightly dryish add the coconut milk and stir well.

Add the fish pieces, adjust salt and cover and cook till you get the desired consistency of the gravy.

Remove from heat.
Serve hot with rice.

Enjoy!!

Pyaj ke pakore / Onion fritters

 "Saar! stop. Stop!"

We were cruising down the wide and almost empty road one late afternoon.

Being Sunday, there was hardly any traffic.

We had some errands to finish. And then decided to have a look around since we were inside the city anyway.

That's when we heard the urgent call. 

We stopped and a policeman walks up to us, signals us to roll down the windows and asks for the licence.

B shows it to him.  Hmmm ... has a long look at it. 

"Road taxaa saar." He says matter of factly.

Road tax?! Why?

"Outside state car saar".

I could see he was a very young man ...with a thin, simple face. 

And immediately realised his motive.

A lonely road on a quiet afternoon. Trying his luck.

Hard luck. This fish was not for his bait.

 "So?"

"Road taxaa saar".
Road tax, to be collected by a traffic constable, was hilarious enough.

I hurriedly hide behind my purse and start to cough vigorously ... desperately trying
to gulp down the laughter
forcing its way up my throat. 

Then B says, with deadpan face, "Touristaa saar".
( B has a knack of picking up languages ... with their accents real quick.  )

 Now he looks flummoxed.

The man and B were looking at each other, both smiling. Yet warring.

Waiting for the other to speak.

Two bikes zoom by. The man turns and has a look.

But decides we are the fatter catch.

After a while, I decide it is best not to antagonise the kid any more.

So pick up the two tickets we had bought for a visit to Tipu Sultan's summer palace close by

... and hand it to him.

He actually scratches his head , looking at them.

And waves us on. 

And I feel sorry for him.

B insists on keeping those two tickets on the dashboard ... just in case another traffic police

 decides to collect road tax again!!

"There is no time or date stamp ... see!"

I don't have the heart to tell him that we will have to be in the vicinity of Tipu Sultan's home to be safe.

:-)

 We have always loved to travel and explore new places.

But encounters on a daily basis like these are so new to us that we actually are savouring them.

Especially when we have become language handicapped.

Like, when I asked my help to clean the window sills when cleaning rooms.

And she kept repeating "Daaeeeleee??"

???

She does not know Hindi. "A little English only."

It was long after she had left that it suddenly struck me ... daily!!!!!

Switching back ...

Among the hosts of things that I miss, after we moved, is the glorious sunlight on my dining table.

These snaps were taken months ago ...

when I was clicking but not posting.

Pulled them out today.

And while I cooked a special mangshor jhol and mishti bhaat lunch for myself,

am posting these for you.

Wonderfully crispy pyaaj ke pakore.

 Nothing much to to to make these golden delights.

I had some left over dal .. who doesn't? ... so used it to make these.

Need :

Besan

Left over dal ... if you don't have any,  just use water

Onions - chopped

Green chillies - chopped

Fresh coriander leaves - chopped

Salt

Red chilli powder

Oil to deep fry

How to :

Mix everything together, except the oil to make a thick paste.

Heat oil.

Scoop out small balls and deep fry on low heat, till golden brown.

Remove and serve hot with ketchup or chutney.

I love these with a hot cup of adrakwali chai.

And you?

Enjoy! :-)