Things I learn

Baby bok choy and mushroom stir-fry + Rubbish

May 21, 2013 by Edlyn

Ask me what I did yesterday. Go ahead do it. I have a great answer.

What did you do yesterday, Edlyn?

I watched videos of dumpster diving. I then proceeded to imagine how I would carry away wasted (and perfect!) food in my bag. I don’t have a car or a bicycle so I would have to take the bus. I would like to do in the morning preferably even though it’s best to look around in the night. Less chance of being asked unecessary questions like “Why are you trespassing?” To which I’d reply, “I’m here to make a citizen’s arrest.” (I’ve watched TOO much Michael Moore.)

My friend (can I call you that?) Natalia is completely responsible for this. Everything she says makes me want to be friends with her and yes, she can drive a point straight to your heart. Apples and Anarchy, I like everything you say. You make me look at food as more than just food. You started me right at the beginning, from a tiny seed and mostly, you’re just very cool.

I also hadn’t heard of My New Roots until Natalia gushed about her. I looked her up and I agree, Sarah Britton is quite a classy lady. I also love that she lives in Denmark. With that, I’m allowing two Internet corners to collide (as they should) and dedicating this recipe to a friend (I’m calling you that) who perfectly described dumpster diving as “an edgier version of Christmas”.

(Though I feel it’s a lot closer to Easter that way…)

I followed this recipe I urge you to leave me enough nasty comments saying I should stop putting walnuts on everything. I didn’t even realise I did this until I looked at the picture. It must’ve been good though because I ate two whole servings.

Adapted from Sarah Britton’s My New Roots

Ingredients

210 gms baby bok choy, washed and sliced into strips
100 gms/20 small crimini mushroom, dirt brushed off and quartered
10 gms/3 cloves garlic, cut fine
Peanut oil
1 tbsp lite soy sauce
1/2 tbsp honey
Cooked brown rice noodles
Sesame seeds and walnuts (yes), to garnish

Cook the brown rice noodles or any Asian noodles or grains of your choice and keep aside.

Cut and have all your ingredients ready since stir-fry recipes require you to move a bit faster that usual. Heat the peanut oil in a large skillet over medium heat and throw in the garlic. Stir it for about a minute of until it begins to brown slightly.

To this add the mushrooms, honey and half the soy sauce. Make sure the mushrooms are coated well and cook until the liquid ingredients have been soaked into the fungi (fungi being the mushrooms). Not all of the liquid will disappear but a lot of it will.

As soon as the mushrooms are ready, add the remaining 1/2 tbsp of soy sauce and bok choy. Give it about 2-3 quick stirs. Immediately take the skillet off the stove and let the bok choy wilt, stirring as it gets there. About 3-4 minutes later, the bok choy will have gotten limp and that means, it’s done.

Which means you get to mix it with the noodles.

Which also means you get to garnish it with sesame seeds.

Yes, yes, I know!

And walnuts.

*Other Apples and Anarchy must reads are this, this and this.

Can’t live without happiness Thursday + Roasted red pepper sauce

May 9, 2013 by Edlyn

I think it was 2005 when the big flood hit Bombay. Rain that didn’t stop for a whole week and all I remember of it was a week off from college. That and some of my friends were forced to A) Walk hours through flood waters to get home B) Camp out in South Bombay, the part of the city that saw nothing of this so-called flood. I fell into neither of the categories because I lived in South Bombay, like a non-snob (promise). I was there as a paying guest in a nice little house, the kind that is the stuff of urban legend today.

Unable to completely understand what was bringing this beast of city to a standstill, I made no effort to go out and see it for myself. It was raining and I’ve always believed the one thing I don’t like about moisture-laden clouds is their ability to make my feet feel alien. “Rain shoes” were only part of my vocabulary until my mother bought them for me. After that, it was “whatever-I-can-find-under-the-cupboard shoes”, which were never my shoe(s) in the first place.

Landlady and us roommates got the daily flood reports of places 30-minutes-away-by-train from the TV. Everyday – assuming A. Myra was not taking Jassi waaaayy too seriously – we’d turn on nondescript Hindi news channel and see images of a lot of filthy water, flooded homes (many of them makeshift) and people…having…fun?

And smiling?

And playing silly games?

All this over the voice of a news anchor sitting in a studio trying to sound like the opposite of what was happening. Apart from the people who were living all of it, the rest of us were all detached from reality and unable to see that the only people whose lives really sucked at the time were the ones that were truly happy.

Happy.

In all that uncertainty, confusion and really inconvenient living arrangements, the moving images that moved me the most was their joy. Their faces did not match the headlines and it made me feel like an idiot for missing out on all the fun. I used to have this grand idea as a child of blocking the space under the doors and turning on the tap in the bathroom. So you know, I could turn the house into a swimming pool. I never accomplished that and the images were as close as I could get to being 7 again…minus all the parental drama that could’ve been.

Happy.

I want to be that happy amongst that much sad. Because stupidly, I feel like I can handle it. We live in a world with constant expectations and being damn near (pick a number!) 25 never makes it any easier. We choose our paths and create ideas of how we’re supposed to be but it’s never any of that. It’s always more. It’s the part of you that practices saying “I’m a photographer”, when you’re not sure if you really are/can/pretend to be one. Or the girl that wants to have an uninterrupted 8 hours of just plain creativity in the hope that it one day be paid for. In the middle of it all, we just want to be one thing, even if it means an unscheduled glass of life-changing grape juice.

And to be that girl in a flood because her life is not over and HEY, she finally has her own swimming pool.

Think of this as a “how to” because based on this, I have a lot of non-throw-it-over-pasta recipes swimming in my head. I tried out one today in a hurry since I had to feed my little animal before I went out into the world. I let him finish up the bits and ends so I’ve yet to taste it. If it’s good, tomorrow will be the day!

Ingredients

3 red peppers
4 cloves of garlic (more if you love garlic)
1 cup of yellow onions (or red/purple)
Salt and pepper to taste
Olive oil

Pre-heat the oven to 425 degrees F, which in this house take 5 years and I’ve hired a personal chef in the future so why are we doing this again?

Slice the red peppers down in the middle and get rid of the seeds and the stalk. If you’re the seed-preserving kind, you can do that as well! Place them cut side down on a baking sheet lined with foil. I forgot to grease the foil. I don’t know if you’re supposed to but it didn’t matter. I know this because it didn’t stick. Peel and smash the garlic with the back of the knife and place it among the cut peppers. Lightly sprinkle the peppers with salt and put them in the oven for 45 minutes of until parts of the top get slightly blackened.

Once this happens, don’t freak out because this is how it’s supposed to be. Let the peppers cool completely and then peel off the skin and keep aside. You can save the non-blackened parts of the skin if you want to use in the sauce. It’s no big deal either way. Throw the peppers and (possibly) rock hard garlic pods into a blender or food processor and mix it until it turns into a paste/sauce.

In the final part of the process, heat about a teaspoon and a half of olive oil in a small pot and throw in the onions. Let them cook until translucent and then pour in the roasted red pepper paste. Add a tablespoon or so of water and turn the heat to low. Once it simmers, take it off the stove and season with salt and pepper.

Can’t live without being insane Thursday + Brown rice date ‘spring’ rolls

May 2, 2013 by Edlyn

I have definitely lost my mind. Well. Maybe it’s not THAT bad. I’m probably dramafying this more because “woe is me, I need your attention”. Did I get it? Never mind. I’ll get you next time. I signed up for another run.

Huh? What? I didn’t say anything. The run? Oh that. I thought you weren’t paying attention. You see I have this thing where I like doing things that I’m not quite sure I can even do (Like this). Part of me feels heroic when I do but the other part wants to turn around and march right back home. Not surprisingly, the first part always triumphs. But still, I can’t. stop. feeling. like. I’m. nuts.

Crazy. Bonkers. Yes, I signed up for another 5K race. As if the 10K that’s two weeks from now wasn’t enough to stress me out. I felt I needed a mini challenge before the big challenge. A little boost of confidence and maybe a clear sign that my body is not going to fail on me. Refer to previous paragraph if you skimmed through and have no idea what I’m going on about (which is probably all the time, right?). Of course, there was the minor detail of a free drink? Margarita, or something of the sorts, for every runner and also – tacos.

Wouldn’t you have done it? “Sure, Edlyn. Of course I would!” I feel better. I do love motivating words and the people in my life are also accomplice to this insanity. I have a friend, whom I used to work with in Bombay. She’s teeny-tiny and smart enough to intimidate me. People who read a lot do that to me (how could they not?!). We’d sometimes ate lunch together at our desks and she would always make me take more of the dal khichdi. I didn’t mind except that she never ate much at all! I would never share my food with someone if I knew they were big eaters. She made me the big eater. She also ran a marathon.

A marathon. I feel like typing it might make it seem more real but it never works. Motivation #1: And this is in no way comparing a measly 5K to a MARATHON (never ever works) but if she can do it, I can. Not the marathon, the 5 and 10 kilometer race-a-thon. The slightly awkward cousin called the lame-a-thon. I should give myself more credit. I run because I enjoy it and that’s motivation #2. Right now I feel incapable and a bit of a show-off. I guarantee you I’m not either.

Motivation #3 and the final motivation (or so I think) of the day: It’s May. That’s right. The big fat May. My favourite month of the year and yours two. Stop arguing. If I can do something entirely spontaneous and slightly deliberate, I can do it in May. I can do it ALL in May. If last year’s trip to Bangkok and the previous years trip to Kashmir was any indication, I got this. May is always going to be reckless, rambunctious and pretty darn amazing. In another 2 days, I’ll have run my first 5K with a hoard of other free margarita lovers. After that, my first 10K. After that, I’ll be content.

I’ll be sort of short of sanity and breath but damn I’ll be happy.

First of all, I have no idea why there are chocolate chips in this picture. I must’ve been snacking but HEY it’s a great strategy while photographing food. Second of all, I love rice paper. It does take some getting used to because it’s so sticky and flimsy but it’s such great fodder for imaginative cooking. The possibilities of what to wrap are endless like my love for you.

Ingredients

4 sheets of rice paper or tapioca starch paper (the kind I bought was circular in shape)
3/4 cup dates, chopped
3/4 cup overcooked brown rice
1/2 cup walnuts, roughly chopped
2 tsp honey
1 1/2 tsp cinnamon powder
1 tsp vanilla extract

Start by cooking the brown rice like you usually do (or how it says to on the bag). If you don’t buy it in a bag, I’ll help you out here. Cooking brown rice is the same as cooking white rice except that brown rice takes longer to cook. Take 1/2 cup of brown rice and to it add 1 cup of water. Put it on medium high heat until it simmers. As soon as this happens, turn down the heat and cover the pot. It should take 15-20 minutes for all the water to evaporate. Don’t continuously open the lid to check because you don’t want the steam to escape. Just check once at 15 minutes and if the water looks like it’s almost gone, add more to cover about 1/2 of the now cooked rice. This will make the grains more glutinous and perfect for your recipe. Take the rice off the heat and let it cool.

While the rice is cooking, chop up the dates (vertically in the middle and then 3 or 4 times horizontally) and roughly run a knife across the walnuts. Put the dates in a bowl and mix it with cinnamon powder. Add the date into the food processor along with the rice, walnuts, honey and vanilla extract. On the low setting, let the ingredients come together in a sticky mess. You don’t want it to turn into a puree so let the processor run for about 10 seconds each time before you decide on the perfect crunchy/sticky consistency. This should take not more than 30 seconds. Put this mixture in a bowl and set aside.

Fill warm water into a shallow basin or even a deep skillet that has a 2-3-inch wider circumference than the rice paper. Keep a clean and moist tea towel ready on the side of the water container. Immerse the rice paper into the water for about 3-4 seconds till it turns soft. As soon as its state changes, gently lift it out of the water and place it on the moist tea towel. Leave it be for about a minute or until the towel soaks up the excess water and makes it easy to roll. You might get a bit annoyed with the rice paper at first but it works out, I promise. Just take a few tries to get comfortable with it.

Once the rice paper is dry enough, add about 7 tsp of the date and brown rice filling along one edge of the circle (the edge you will be rolling from). Try not to overfill it or the paper might tear. Lift the edge and fold it over the filling, making it fit snugly. Fold the adjacent (if I can call it that) left and right side of the rice paper inwards, so as to close the the open ends of the roll (refer to the fourth picture). Now you can keep rolling like you first did until you reach the other end of the circle. Repeat until you’ve run out of the filling. You can cut the rolls in half or eat them whole. If you’re not going to eat this on the same day, store it in the fridge for a day with a moist tea towel covering it.

PS: If you have the luxury of coconut in your backyard (which I did until I chose to be poor), you can add grated and toasted coconut to the filling too.

PPS: The run is on Saturday and I love the colour blue.

PPPS: There might not be a Sunday post (MIGHT) but it all depends on how much my knees like me.

*Goa people you get rice paper at Magsons. American residents, you can check the Asian section of your grocery shops.

Rhubarb sorbet ramblings.

April 30, 2013 by Edlyn

As I sit down to write, it’s already 1pm. Thirteen hundred hours in military time and I’m still not sure what to wear. I picked the dog up off the floor in the hope that a lap dog would inspire me but that only works until there’s a knock on the door. Yes, I have to go answer it which I never ALWAYS do but the UPS courier man always has such a sheepish look on his face – I see it through the spyhole on the door – that I fell compelled to.

Then he looks at me wanting just one thing: My signature. I already have 1000 excuses made up as to why I’m still in stretch pants and a long-sleeved T-shirt. Nothing matches and I realise I forgot to check if I have honeydew seeds stuck on my face. Why would you have honeydew seeds stuck on your face, Edlyn? It’s a new thing I’m trying out. Ask me later if it worked?

As I sit down to write this, I turn around to look out the window. It looks deceptively warm but I won’t complain because any sun is good. Any sun after the rain is even better. The plants in the window are probably a lot happier. They have a lot of growing up to do and I have no idea how to help them with that. There’s so much to learn about new life and I tend to just step back a bit. Not out of fear. I’m just a little less bold than I sometimes feel. There’s nothing fun about being told “no”. The only fun part is I don’t mind at all.

As I sit down to write this, I should probably write it already. Nothing about a blank page overwhelms me. This is the one thing I know will never let me down. I can collect as many hobbies and people and cardigans but this ability right here, will always feel permanently comforting. It’s okay not to be read but I know I’d be committing the biggest disservice to this comfortable outfit I’m in and that light from the sky if I didn’t sit down to write.

So I did.

Rhubarb is like the made-up cousin of celery except you can eat the celery leaves and rhubarb leaves can poison you. Chop those of before you start and banish them far far away. The entire rhubarb plant is also very toxic for dogs. So for those of you who have pooches that sniff at your feet in the kitchen, you might want to hang a “No Dogs in the Kitchen” sign. And then teach your dog to read.

Ingredients

1 1/4 cups water
2 2/3 cup rhubarb stalks (320 gms, I had 4 or 5 rhubarb stalks)
2 1/2 tbsp lemon juice
Zest of half a lemon (optional)
1 tsp finely grated ginger
6 tbsp honey (or more if you like it sweeter)

Is everybody listening? I’m about to begin! You there at the back. Eyes on the prize!

Chop the rhubarb into small-medium sized pieces along the length of the stalk. Place the cut rhubarb in a saucepan with water, lemon juice, grated ginger root and honey. The saucepan then goes on to a stove on medium-high heat for a couple of minutes until the honey dissolves. Taste if it’s sweet enough for you. If not, add more honey. Turn down the heat to medium-low and cook this mixture of ingredients until the rhubarb is tender and the contents are fragrant. This should take around 10-15 minutes.

Take the saucepan off the heat and let it cool before pouring it all into a food processor. Turn the processor to low (“high” makes me nervous about kitchen explosions) and work it until the rhubarb turns into a smooth puree. There puree will have some stringy bits of the rhubarb stem but this doesn’t affect the texture of the final product.

Pour the mixture into a bowl and cool it in the refrigerator for no less than an hour. Once cooled, you can put it in your ice-cream maker* for 20 minutes and then freeze the sorbet in a freezer-safe bowl. If you don’t care about owning yet another modern convenience follow this link to make the sorbet without a machine. You’ll just have to pretend the ice-cream in the link is sorbet and follow the same instructions.

*My frozen dessert fiend BHF and I own a Cuisinart ice-cream maker and it’s the bomb.

Bunny in a hat + Something to snack on.

April 17, 2013 by Edlyn

The more I have to do, the more I want to do something completely else. This is a good thing because I’ve had a chance to draw a bit, read a lot and watch too many movies. I’ve learnt to enjoy all this time I have to myself. I’m genuinely thankful for the pauses I get to take and that I get to look out a window more than I do a computer screen. I could want a lot but right now I have all that I want. My needs are immaterial.

The roomie has been sick so I’ve been force-feeding him tea all day since yesterday. And when I want somebody to drink their tea, I will put my foot down and make them. I’m really bossy about the temperature of the brew and also, it’s for his own good. He doesn’t complain. I just want him to get better so we can go on planning pretend adventures again.

This week the bunnies got to go on adventures too. I was happy for them. They get to take flight because of me. Lucky rascals.

I also thought I’d share with you this lunch snack idea, if you ever have the munchies. It’s so easy to make and all you should have in your kitchen is some:

Crusty bread
Garlic
Cherry or grape tomatoes,
Dried oregano
Olive oil
Sea salt

This is my take on bruschetta. Very subtle flavours (as it should be) and quite a rubbish photo I took with a cellphone. I wasn’t planning on blogging it but lunch ideas are important and so I will.

Quarter the tomatoes and remove the seeds. Place them in a small bowl and pour olive oil over to simply coat them. Sprinkle the dried oregano on the top and place in the refrigerator.

Take the slices of bread (as many as you’d like to use) and brush them well with olive oil. Cut a clove of garlic in half and rub it over the olive oil covered side of the bread. Heat the oven to 350 degrees F and place the bread on a baking tray in the middle of the oven for 10-15 minutes. The bread should be toasted.

Place the tomatoes on the top and sprinkle very lightly with salt. You only want it to bring out the inherent sweetness of the tomatoes and not overwhelm them. Trust me, you’ll enjoy the flavours.

A few years ago, I’d have never imagined I’d enjoy simple things this much but it’s been a journey. I’ve slowly realised that my impatience puts little into the universe as much as my perseverance does. I do want a lot of things for my life but I’m happy not to hurry them. I am still a go-getter. This is not me submitting to my handicaps (which if you ask me right now, it’s only being unable to drive legally). I’m just learning to pace myself. Let my mind rest. I have a great partner who always says, quite fleetingly, “Do whatever you want!” In an instant my mind rushes to so many places with an instant belief that yes, I can. But why? I don’t know why I’d want to spend hours working my way up to a dream when right here right now is the dream I’m kinda, sorta already living.

It aint grand. It’s no spectacle. My name isn’t on billboards but in small corners of this temporary home, a new day is a damn good deal.

Hair flip. And cue.

Get salad done Monday + Black lentil salad, that is.

April 15, 2013 by Edlyn

Where salad is another word for “stuff” and “stuff” is poop. If you’ve been reading stuff I’ve written so far, you’ll must already know how much I love doing dishes. I love it so much that I do them at least thrice a day. If I can’t find anything to wash, I make myself an unnervingly complicated bowl of food which requires no less than 83 utensils. Then I sit down and heave a sigh of relief because god knows what I’d have done if I didn’t have 83 utensils to wash.

I would have cried. Hopeless tears.

I’ve observed people around kitchen sinks all my life. Whatever they did while scrubbing blackened pots and pans looked simple enough. Yet, I felt guilt. Guilt that I did nothing to help dirty all those things and guilt that I only washed my own plate. And hand. Because that’s how we eat back in the South of the East. I knew it would eventually catch up to me.

All this love I had for washing dishes wasn’t going to stay bottled up in my big juicy heart forever. It spilled out into a sea of suds and blue scrubbers (many times over) ever since I started writing about my lust for eatable green world. Safe to say, I am overjoyed. I can now wash as many butter knives as I want without the slightest fear that somebody else (let alone a dishwasher!) is going to take away my sink full of dreams.

Butter knives? Sink full? It’s for when I want to study the wonders of natural peanut butter in pockets throughout the day. It’s going well so far, thanks for asking. Use a spoon, you say? Oh.

Studies show that using a spoon is a sure sign of an addiction. One that nobody should be willing to admit unless coaxed by observers forced to take out recycling bins full of jars that say “Skippy”. I speak like I know the truth, but really, all I know is there are certain cooking utensils that I love washing a lot more than others.

Spoons. Those same guys. Three sizes they come in. No idea why, but they’re breathtaking when you let the wonder that is running water caress their backs and it looks like a Vegas fountain. Turn the spoon the other way three seconds later and your face gets a free wash. WOW. Truly amazing.

Those scissor-looking things that people use to flip over bacon on pans and such. What a marvelous idea. I really do not know how my fingers have survived all these years without it. Washing the ends of this device is something I would give my left arm to Science for. And I don’t give things up to Science for nothing, ya know.

Knives. Oh if there was anything in the world that made me value the truth of dish-washing, knives would be it. Right on top. Number 1 and nothing less. How else could I explain the concern knives feel for me when they make me slow down. Pause. And breathe. And cherish the fact that it’s not those scissor-looking things that people use to flip over bacon that care for my fingers. It’s the knives. They love my fingers the most.

Non-stick pans and how little they actually make me work. I just have to blow on them and tuck them into a floor cabinet. Anything more is just too much Mama bear.

Pop yo collar (sometimes exploding) Pyrex. Because nothing makes me value my life more than having to see it all disappear in a matter of seconds.

Glasses where protein shakes once lived. They teach me the importance of soaking, and perseverance if I forget.

You see, I’m truly lucky. Blessed beyond measure. Ecstatic. Over the moon. Crock pot crazy! And if you know me, you’ll know that this is nothing out of the ordinary.

I feel like I’m starting to understand the vinaigrette formula better each day, and understanding it helps me adapt it to my arbitrary taste. I did a simple Internet search for a basic vinaigrette and most of them say that the ratio of vinegar to oil should be 1:3 (1tbsp vinegar:1tbsp oil). I’ve tried that formula and it works for sure but my Goan tastebuds are stubborn and they want more of the bite vinegar offers. You can tone it down if you prefer. I’m sorry if my vinegar-frenzy killed your throat or something.

Ingredients

1 cup black lentils, cooked and cooled
1/4 cup cooked and cooled quinoa (optional. I made this salad when I made those roasted carrots so I just threw in some of the quinoa that I used there)
1/2 cup roasted peanuts (unless you have allergies)
3 cups salad greens (I used a mesclun mix)

For the vinaigrette

2 tbsp apple cider vinegar
3 tbsp olive oil
1/4 tsp sea salt
Crack of pepper
Zest of 1/2 a lemon or 1 tbsp lemon juice
2 tbsp Greek yogurt
1 tsp honey (optional)

To cook the black lentils, first you have to buy them. Bring them home, scoop out half a cup and soak them in water overnight or for 10-12 hours. The next day, drain the water and put them in a pot of water with salt on medium heat for 25-30 minutes. The lentils should be just cooked through and not mushy. If they are mushy, kick it in the face and use them anyway. Life’s too short to waste good black lentils.

Roast the peanuts on a dry pan on medium high heat until they release their oils and become fragrant. Rinse and dry the salad leaves.

As for the dressing, in a small cup or bowl, mix together the vinegar and olive oil. Using a spoon or whisk, beat it until it combines. Add the salt and pepper and lemon parts and mix. Finally add the Greek yogurt to hold the vinaigrette together with its fattiness. Mix in the honey at the end.

In a medium bowl, bring the greens and lentils. Pour as much dressing as you want over and mix well. Toss the roasted peanuts in and serve cold. Guaranteed to leave your kitchen sink only slightly overwhelmed.

Ebb and flow

April 9, 2013 by Edlyn

I’m a firm believer in grating cheese over food that doesn’t impress me with its taste. I feel like this is how I want to live my life. Grating cheese over things and impressing myself. Yes, I do take the easy way out but that’s because not everything I make is Page 1-top post-hit publish worthy. If I was good at vomiting percentages, I’d say 60% of what I make tastes a lot like goat cheese. The rest is me being possessed by evil spirits and cooking things that see me spending 10 minutes staring at my taste tester.

“Is it good?”

“Do you like it?”

“You’re lying”

“It’s not that good.”

“Give me the truth, man. That’s all I ask.”

To tell you the cold hard truth, it hasn’t been that good this week. Either I’m realising that I wasn’t made with a flair for cooking or I just have temporary afternoon blahs. Or I feel too plain and I want to step up my game. If I have to, I have no idea how. Do you have such thoughts too? I assume it comes with the territory…of coming up with something new each week.

I thought about how I’d like to be Miss Spice of Life in this world and I came up with a few ideas. To everybody not reading this right now, this is me thinking out loud and motivating myself to focus on this experiment as a whole and not a day-day thing.

– Stay simple and true to your ingredients. It takes a lot for me to say “NO, I will let this lemon be a lemon and flavour my cold water right now” when all I can think of is “PIEEEEE”. Nothing wrong with that except you tend to scatter your thoughts to 70 different areas instead of taking a seat and sipping on you lemonade and feeling so cool that you can whatever you want if you just breathe.

– Reminisce food experiences. Those meals are the ones you yearn for. Find your own special way to recreate them and make them your own.

FINALLY.

– Cook the food you love to eat. If this week is all about the dal (yellow lentils) and rice, then so be it. Yesterday it was slightly different. I couldn’t stop thinking about the rainbow carrots in the vegetable drawer. They were sitting there and being pretty and I was scouring the web for recipes that would do the most justice to them. I couldn’t wait much longer so I went ahead and cooked them in the way I knew best. I would eat this 10 times over if I could.

I will have this recipe up for you sooner than you think.

In other news, I have to do a test tomorrow. For a job. Spectacular. Thankfully it requires very little getting out of bed and a lot of tea on tap.

In other other news, these guys are making my life just when I was about to give up on them.

Hey little ones, I will eat you very soon. Without cheese because that’s how good you’ll be.

Quinoa stir-fry with lemony winter greens + older and nuttier

March 29, 2013 by Edlyn

Just yesterday, Antsypants booked two tickets for us to go visit my in-laws and his parents in May. That’s where we’ll be this time two months from now. This time two months from now, I’ll also be 26. Mama, if you’re reading this, WHEN DID I BECOME 26? Bleah, it’s okay. I actually like my birthday. I forget I’m 26 at least until somebody asks me my age and then I have to think for 5 seconds when this all changed.

It wasn’t like this when I was a teenager. I was angst-ridden and the idea of me standing around a cake with people staring at me was quite unappealing. I wanted to hide in my room but I always wanted to hide in my room at that age. There were parties people came over, I came out and shook hands and said thank you. When I realised that I was missing all the presents, I tried to be better about it. Who doesn’t love presents?! Especially of the monetary, non-fabric kind.

Non-fabric kind. I just made myself “lol”. Ask me later if you want to know why.

At 25, I can say quite confidently that I don’t think like that anymore. I still don’t like birthday parties in the tradition of “let’s invite everyone we know so our faces fall off from two cheek kissing” but I like to be around the people that matter. As for presents, I feel better a lot better about giving and feeling grateful for what I already have. There’s little I need and a bulk of that you just can’t buy.

Two months to 26. If this is what it’s going to feel like, I’m alright with that. Being with the new extension to my family, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I made this recipe up from my own “too lazy to cook something fancy” brain and guess what? It turned out to be quite fancy after all. I should not try more often. My point is, if you find that you need to change the vinegar-soy sauce ratio, go ahead. Just make sure you start with less and taste as you go. I’ve made this thrice and I’ve like it most with this combination of quinoa. The red quinoa is a lot crispier even after it’s cooked and the mustard seeds give it a wonderful nutty flavour as you eat.

Ingredients

1/2 cup quinoa, rinsed and cooked (I used a mix of black, white and red quinoa from the bulk section of the grocery but any one kind will do)
1 + 2 tsp peanut oil
5 oz tofu, cut into 1/2 to 1 inch cubes
2 tsp whole mustard seeds
1 large clove garlic, chopped fine
1 cup carrots, diced
1 cup green beans,
2 tbsp lite soy sauce (it’s a lot less salty than the regular kind. You can also use tamari if you don’t like soy sauce but modify the quantity as per your tastebuds)
4 tsp rice vinegar
Winter salad greens, washed and dried (frisée, arugula, mustard, beet greens, chicory…are some example. If you don’t have any of these, you can add baby or chopped spinach)
Squeeze of lemon juice
Salt to taste

Heat a teaspoon of peanut oil in a non-stick frying pan and cook the tofu on both sides until it’s golden and crisp on the outside but still soft on the inside. It should take about 3 minutes per side. Take it out of the pan and place it on a paper towel. I thought about cutting it into cubes after frying it (makes it easier to flip) but if you’ve gone knife crazy and prepped your ingredients already, I’m sorry. I can make it up to you by cooking for you someday should our crosses path. Paths cross.

I’m not really sorry.

At this point, your quinoa should be on the stove top in a small pot, being cooked in lightly salted water or vegetable stock.

On the same frying pan where you fried the tofu, add 2 tsp of peanut oil and add the mustard seeds to it. Once the oil gets hot, the mustard seeds will start to pop. Quickly add the garlic and give it a 30-second stir. Then add the carrots and stir-fry for 3 minutes. Throw in the green beans next, then the tofu and keep stirring the mix for another 4 minutes at least.

Add the soy sauce and give it a quick stir and then add the rice vinegar. Taste here to check if all’s well in stir-fry land. Cook for 3 more minutes or until the veggies are cooked but not soft (I like them to be a little crunchy). Take it off the stove and check on the quinoa. If it’s ready, then add this stir-fry mix to it and combine the two in the quinoa pot. If it’s not, you wait till it is. That was easy. Ha.

The third part of this recipe is incorporating the salad greens. Wash and dry the greens and then squeeze some lemon juice over them in a separate bowl. You are now going to add these greens to the quinoa in the pot. The quinoa should still be warm when you do this so that the greens wilt just a tad.

Serve warm in a bowl. Squeeze more lemon juice on the top if you prefer.

Let me be your teacher.

March 28, 2013 by Edlyn

Promising people (chocolate) cake does not get you internships. Or work. Whatever. This is all you need to know about the real world. It’s a sham but if you’re reading this, together we can change the world.

Next time, I will promise beer too.

Good day is good.

March 23, 2013 by Edlyn

Today I am grateful. I don’t think I’m doing anything special here. I write for the same reason a lot of people do — to feel some sort of human connection. The months since I’ve moved here have been mixed. I’ve felt a lot of loneliness (I still do) and the overwhelming joy as well. Last week when a neighbour came over, I never thought I’d be as surprised as I was. This was the first time since I came here that anybody has ever knocked on our door just to see how I was doing. Well, second time. The first time, Lisa just wanted to drive me home so she could see where I lived.

The people here are extremely kind. In India, we’re used to people who don’t smile in family photos or interact without a please and thank you. Here you hold doors, thank bus drivers, inquire about a cashier’s day and try not to be a general ass about everything. Park within the lines and the world loves you, cut someone off and you have no values. Doesn’t matter if you were in a hurry to volunteer in a homeless shelter, your turn signal wasn’t on. I’m made to understand that kindness goes a long way, which is precisely why I tore up a sticky note I saw on a freshly-cemented landing at the entrance to our building yesterday. “Instead of fixing the cracks, fix the damn hole”. I’d write, “thank you” but what do I know.

This is confusing.

Why can I manage to have a conversation with people I’ve never met in my life and still not feel that sense of community I feel at home? I lived away from family for 6 years (I think) but even then I felt cared about…by my roommates, by A Myra who let me stay in her house, by our neighbours who’d fill our water because we were too lazy to wake up at 6am and by the parents of all my friends. Homes were always open, as were hearts. People would say “come over” and you wouldn’t think anything strange of it.

This is in no way a geographic EQ comparison. I’m in transition so of course things stick out more for me than they would for a person who calls a place in America home. I could be speaking too soon and in a few months, I will wonder what I was even talking about. This is a new place. A place I am more than willing to give a chance. A place where it rarely snows (and definitely not in March) but a place where it still does. Nothing is set in stone. I still have dreams that Goa is just a button push away, but who doesn’t?

It’s within these (sort of) inner trials that we find how blessed we really are. And here lies the source of my gratitude. This writing space. The place where I feel so generous because all I really want to do is make someone’s day. To know that I have one person nod their head in agreement is enough. I appreciate your kindness despite us not knowing each other by face and more so if we do.

Everybody right from my lovely mother, who shares my writing with people I know wouldn’t approve of me saying “shit”, to people I know just because I found you (or you found me) on the internet — THANK YOUUUUUU!!! It requires emphasis because you went out of your way to be amazing and I love you for that.

If you’re reading this, say hi or tell me something really arbitrary about yourself. If you see any typos, tell me that too. 🙂