Things I love

This is insanity.

July 22, 2013 by Edlyn

Summer has been incredibly kind to the soil here; encouraging some of the most amazing produce I’ve seen with my own eyes. I can brag 18,000 times over about the markets in Goa. Try me. This is different. There is something very special about food that belongs. Straight from the source and right to your heart. In hippie speak, it’s very groovy. I haven’t been able to share as much of it here in this blog but you can be sure that the food is being well taken care of. There is no other way.

(I will be away from my second favourite home this week and I already miss this place. Can you see me?! I’m a crying fool. Not really but just a little bit on the inside. I’ll be back with a tale or two.)

Quick pickled radishes

July 19, 2013 by Edlyn

Everyday feels different. Different in a different way. If I could be more specific, I’d say I’m constantly trying to remember how to be the Indian from Goa. Conversations with myself and imaginary cab drivers in Hindi/Konkani while walking the dogs, remind me sometimes. I remember how I could never have a “normal” fight with someone off the street. Anger made me forget the words and anxiety (plus wanting to plant the sole of my foot onto some passer-by molester’s pride and joy) didn’t help. I could bargain for some vegetables but the street smarts these women carry around in tiny waist pouches (and sometimes in their bras) were hardly something to mess around with.

“Bhindi, panch rupiya aadha kilo”

What the what?!

Okay, I deserve this.

I’m not a culture vulture. It’s never been something I made the effort to go out and learn. It just happened (or so I felt). The people were there, the experiences made nice safe spots in my brain and I did what I usually did. How do you belong to a place? How does every graceful movement become typical of us? I just haven’t thought about it.

But I am now.

How else can I explain not knowing what to say to a person I’ve met once or twice? I can ask a multitude of questions. Favourite books, colour, why the streets are cleaner here are some that might cross my mind. I speak but I still feel like I don’t know anything about you until I can ask: “Did you have your lunch?” Those exact words strung together. Variations include “Have you eaten?”, “What you ate?”, “I know you just had your lunch but there’s tea to be had…” I can’t pinpoint the exacts of this cultural derivation but nothing feels more home to me than food. We as people sew ourselves together with threads that we know won’t wear out with time. That is food, to me. Never an indulgence. This is something I know I can talk about and yet, I feel like I fall short when it comes to the “Indian-ness” of it all.

I can’t explain Indian food to people that ask because is there really such a thing? There isn’t. I can give the safe answer, laced with butter chicken and naan but I know it won’t be the right answer. I eat my naan plain, like a snack. Sometimes I used it to scoop up my fish-curry-rice, knowing very well I was doing it wrong and feeling like it was okay because I wasn’t trying to prove anything. Here, I sort of am. I have told Resident Evil, Dr Crazy Pants (his name is actually Matt) that “you don’t order rice AND naan. You choose one or the other”.

As if. I can’t believe I told him that. It’s true but it’s not forever. I somehow find myself becoming more and more responsible to hold on to this culture I was born into. I can try doing it with food but I know very well that I have always cooked from memory and rarely from a book. So while I know perfectly well how to squeeze the juice from the coconut thanks to motherly instruction, I cannot (yet) make myself a true Goan fish-curry. But yay, I can make rice!

And I can teach Resident Crazy how to say “chalo” and debate how it would be spelled (“I feel it’s more of ‘chulo’ than ‘chalo'”).

And make that annoying sound people make when they’re annoyed with something.

And say “Yah no”.

And put onions in EVERYTHING.

Is there really any other way to be?

This recipe is inspired by my sister who showed me how to make quick pickled carrots in almost the same way. I just took it and applied it to the radish bunch I bought last week. I do have a pressing question though. Is there a plural form of radish and is it radishes? Things I can clearly do an Internet search for #946. The pickle flavour gets more pickle-y as time goes by.

Ingredients

A bunch of long red radishes (170 gms), sliced thin
1/2 cup water
1/2 cup white vinegar
1 tsp salt
1 tsp sugar
2 cloves garlic
1 dried red chilli, sliced in half
Fresh cracked pepper (optional)

Cut up all the radishes into thin slices (like in the picture below), using your awesome knife skills. Put them in a non-reactive container (preferably glass and no metal or plastic) with enough room for the pickling liquid you’re about to make.

Put the salt, sugar, water and white vinegar into a pot and bring it to a boil, making sure that the sugar and salt dissolve. Multitask like a boss. As soon as it reaches boiling point, take the pot off the stove and add the garlic clove and dried red chilli (also the pepper, if using) to it. Let it sit for 2-3 minutes and then pour it over the radishes in the bottle. Try to worm the chilli and garlic in the middle of all the slices. Put the lid on and shake the bottle. Let it cool before storing in the refrigerator. Use on everything.

I mean it.

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 strawberry fields forever Thursday

May 16, 2013 by Edlyn

That was never going to be the title of this post but who cares? I allowed myself to change my mind and ran with it. Y to the E to the Yes, I did.

This past Sunday, I went and saw my favourite Seattle orchestra cover songs from the Sgt Pepper Lonely Hearts Club Band album and oh man. The only thing better than listening to a recording of the songs by the Beatles is listening to an orchestral arrangement of it in an early 20th century theater. The second best thing would be for the orchestra to follow me home and play my life’s soundtrack as I walk my way through the haze maze.

Which brings me to strawberries.

I’m still trying to figure out what’s seasonal here and what isn’t. All this while I was thinking strawberries were a summer berry but wrong wrong wrong you are Edlyn and how glad I am for that. With the brand new stop eating crap diet I’ve kindly made known to all who live within this little box, strawberries have become breakfast, lunch, drinks and dessert. Before you think I’m going crazy, that’s not all we consume. I wish! I need my carbs, girlfriend.

Which brings me to breakfast. Cereal. Breakfast cereal.

It really is an American thing, isn’t it? I remember when they came out with Kellogs cornflakes in India. At first it was like “yaaayy” and very soon it as all *womp womp*. If I could describe it better, I’d say I felt like I was eating milk-soaked cardboard. With sugar. I was happy to stick with chapatis and mango jam with tea. Here, breakfast cereal is sort of insane. As much as I love how easy it is for us all to throw together, it doesn’t do much for the hunger clock that ticks in my brain. It doesn’t play me Beatles’ songs and it doesn’t fall into the stop eating crap diet I’ve made known to all who live in this little box.

So I made my own. It has strawberries.

Rolled oats and strawberry breakfast cereal

This recipe serves two people and the toppings (apart from the strawberries) are completely up to you,

Ingredients

1 cup rolled oats
1 cup almond milk
1 cup quartered strawberries
1 tbsp honey (or any sweetener of your choice)
Roughly chopped walnuts and raisins to go on the top

Roughly chop the walnuts and quarter the strawberries and have them on standby. Until you’re ready for them, you know.

Put the rolled oats and almond milk in a bowl and let it sit for about three minutes. This will help the dry oats soak in as much of the liquid, making it a perfect bite in the end. If you like your cereal to be less liquid-y, just decrease the quantity of milk to 3/4 cup. If you like more milk, you can do that as well.

Once the oats have had a chance to sit for a while, distribute them in two bowls and top with half of the strawberries, walnuts, raisins and honey.

Nothing is real.

Look ma, no hands + Roasted red pepper lentil soup

May 13, 2013 by Edlyn

I saw a lot of mothers yesterday. Dark, pretty, wrinkled, big hair, soft smiles, heart-melting and there. Alert, present and there. There’s a reason why your troubles can melt away in their presence and another reason why they absolutely must. I didn’t want to get lost in the whirl of mother tributes (all 1000% beautiful) yesterday so I let my thoughts sit for a while. I looked at each and every one of them and not a single thing annoyed me. I saw all these young women talking about the inspiration that their mothers are and felt thankful that I get to feel the same way.

My mother was born in the 60s. My youngest sister looked most like her as a baby but there is this one picture from her pre-teen years where we could be the same person. I’m glad the similarities end there because I could never be like her. My sisters and I used to try when we grew tall enough to reach the top of her cupboard for the keys (by standing on the bed). Lots of lipstick and nail polish later, we grew out of it. To her, I’m sure we never will.

I couldn’t buy you a present this time mama (trust issues with postal service) but wait 6 months and there I’ll be. As for yesterday, the best I could do was go watch the Seattle Rock Orchestra play songs from Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Heart Club Band and think about you all through. That’s how I always remember you, singing along to U. Frankie’s guitar with dada and the rest and wondering if I could ever be that brave.

I try mother. Thank you for letting me. Happy one day after Mother’s Day day. Today and everyyyy other day in the year, thank you for letting me dream. <3

To my sisters. I order you to make this for our mother. If you don’t, you’ll both remember you took her to see Star Trek. Star. Trek. Your mother. It’s like the time Ignatius and John gave Roma a bottle of jam for her birthday.

Ingredients

1 cup of yellow and black lentils, moong (mung) beans and kidney beans (they have to be soaked overnight* in water before being cooked)
1/2 tsp turmeric powder (optional)
1 cup vegetable stock
1 cup water
1 cup roasted red pepper sauce
1/2 cup coconut milk
Salt to taste

To garnish, if you must

Toasted walnuts
Croutons
Parsley
Squeeze of lemon juice

As of right now, the Internet has decided to go bye-bye and I’m writing this on a little post-it note app thing on the computer. I feel incredibly empowered, why thank you for asking.

The lentils and beans don’t care. They have one life to live. At this point, you should have soaked a mix of them in water the night before making this.

If you like more yellow and less black, soak it like that.

If you like only yellow, soak only that.

If you like black beans and nothing else, soak black beans and nothing else.

If the moong beans walk into a bar and the bar doesn’t serve moong beans, tell them you’ll soak them next time.

My point is, do as you wish with proportions and colours and shapes. This lentil bean crazy town all cook more or less the same way. Like pasta!

Take the lentil bean mix and put them in a pot of vegetable stock and water on medium high heat to bring it to a quick simmers. Sprinkle the turmeric powder in the water if you’re using it. Once the pot starts to simmer, turn the heat down low to a slow simmer and let it cook. If the water dries up too fast, add more to keep the lentils and beans covered till they’re done. The lentils should be ready in 20-25 minutes and you’ll be able to tell that they are when they’re tender and no longer crunchy. Season with salt depending on how much is already in the stock.

Leave the pot on the stove and add the red pepper sauce to it. Let it have fun times with the lentil+beaners for 5 minutes. Next add the coconut milk to this and cook for 5 more minutes. Keep stirring throughout this process. Take it off the heat, taste and season with salt (if required) and a crack of pepper.

If you want to eat this with croutons, cut some bread into cubes, drizzle them with olive oil and place them in a single layer on a baking sheet in a 350 degree F oven. Take them out when they’re in the golden to almost brown stage. You can also make them on a pan on the stove by taking the same olive oil coated bread squares and stirring them until they turn the right colour.

For the toasted walnuts, I’m too lazy to type over an already amazing bunch of instructions so go here.

Sprinkle with parsley if you have any and squeeze some lemon juice over before digging in.

(*Lentils and beans go a bit crazy by increasing in size when soaked overnight. The 1 cup measure I used is post-soaking. If you soak 1/2 cup, you should get 1 cup the next morning)

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.

A perfect cure for the sickies

April 19, 2013 by Edlyn

Life is uncertain. Eat dessert first.

– Ernestine Ulmer

Rum and raisin coconut ice-cream

It is best, if not ideal, to cure all illness with something out-of-the-realm-of what’s right. I fought my so-called beliefs to form this thought ever since I made this non-ice-cream ice-cream two days ago. Cold does not cure a cold. I know this. It’s been stamped into my consciousness since I was a wee lass and I’m sure I now carry the DNA strain that makes it so.

Forget it. I could tell Mr Superman he couldn’t have any but I couldn’t make him listen. My good intentions were lost and I’m led to believe they weren’t the best intentions after all. How can you fight ice-cream? It’s irrational! And it goes against all that’s good with this world.

Yes, I know. I am irrational. But the good? I will not fight the good. In a world like ours, the good is a pittance. I’m going to hoard it. Hoard it in the freezer and eat it at times we deserve it the most.

Ingredients

13.5 fl oz (400 ml) can of coconut milk (full fat: You’ll know it’s fatty if you shake the can and you can’t hear any sound)
2 tbsp cane sugar (or your sweetener of choice; modify quantity based on what you like best)
1 tsp vanilla extract
1/3 cup raisins
2 tbsp spiced (or plain) rum

In a tiny bowl that will fit raisins and rum, bring the two ingredients together. Soak the raisins in the rum for 3 hours to overnight. They will absorb the rum and start to look all weird and non-raisiny. I like it that way.

Pour the can of coconut milk into another bowl and mix it until the sugar dissolves. Add the vanilla extract to the coconut milk. Refrigerate this mix for the time it takes to soak the raisins. For me, that was 3 hours worth of waiting time. I died.

Pour the rum-raisin into coconut milk and then add it all to an ice-cream maker for 20 minutes. You can either freeze this now ice-cream for an hour or eat it directly. I ate it immediately because that’s how I roll.

Oh, oops. I drizzled honey and extra raisins on the top. Just….ya know…because.

Now for some real-life: It’s best to eat this ice-cream on the same day or as soon as it’s made because it gets very (very!) crumbly the next day after it’s frozen, as we noticed. My taste-tester rebel didn’t mind because he doesn’t care about these things but I’m just sending a word of advice into the universe.

I use a Cuisinart ice-cream maker. If you don’t have one, you don’t get to lose out (ever!). Freeze the coconut milk mixture for about 30 minutes (or until it has set partially) in a freezer-safe container. Pull it out of the freezer and then stir it vigorously with a spatula or whisk. Do this for about 2-3 hours until you’re happy with the consistency. These instructions are always good to keep handy.

Science dictates that adding more rum will increase the time it takes to freeze so 2 tbsp was what I gambled with. Use more but please TELL ME HOW YOU DID IT. 🙂

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.

Super Sunday eggs + Resurrection rice cakes

April 7, 2013 by Edlyn

Hello another Sunday where I’m ready to pass out from eating a much too heavy breakfast in the morning, doing nothing in the afternoon, and then shamelessly passing out like I had initially planned. No wait. That’s not the shameless part. There is something worse than that. It takes me back to Goa when I lived with my parents, followed this Sunday routine except after I woke up, I expected more food.

Seriously, Indian children are so spoilt in the parents making them food department. No matter how old you get, your mother and in my case my father too, always want to feed you. So yes, blame them if you must. What horrible parents they are for wanting to feed 27-year-old children (Hi Jane. I meant you).

Gathering whatever was left of my will to survive, I climbed up the stairs from the lower part of my house and made my way into the kitchen. As soon as this happened, my mother would appear from nowhere as if she was standing behind me all along and say, “Hungry? Wait I have to make rice.” Oh okay mama, I’ll just pretend you said pulao and that my stomach is not ready to crush every ounce of my brain that’s telling me it’s stuff your face you lazy arse o’clock. The lazy arse being me, of course.

My mother, never disappointed. She’s the best rice-maker I know and to say I’ve learnt to make amazing pulao from her would be a big lie. I know nothing about the first of it and if I do, it’s purely by chance. From watching her I learnt to wash the rice (twice) thing, the one-cup-rice-two-cups-water thing, the simmer-boil-close-open-stir thing, and the drain-the-water-once-you’re-done thing. Sometimes I get all these “things” mixed up perfectly.

As for the pulao, I can make my mother proud. I don’t know how. I’ve never bothered learning about it as much as I worried about biting into a cardamom pod while eating.

The things that take you back home…

I miss your pulao, mother!

Super Sunday eggs + Resurrection rice cakes

Claire, I stole the rice cakes idea from you. That’s right. I took it. You were asleep and I said “To hell with her!” Don’t feel bad. If I can make the pain go away, I’ll say two things: I love the names “resurrection risotto cakes” and Donna Chinona. You inspire me to copy you. Feel better?

You’ll need one cup of leftover risotto or vegetable pulao, 2 eggs, 1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese, 1tbsp plus a little more buckwheat flour (can also substitute with all-purpose flower) and some salt and pepper to taste. For the side (if you prefer sides), you can use slices of tomato and salad greens drizzled with balsamic vinegar.

Take a cup of the pulao and mix it with an egg, buckwheat flour, Parmesan cheese and some pepper. Ideally you rice should already be salted because it’s made from leftovers but I don’t like to predict these things. If you need more salt, don’t let me stop you. You should be able to make about 3 small rice cakes or 2 big ones. The cakes should be easy to shape so if 1 tbsp buckwheat flour isn’t enough, add a teaspoon more and see if it does the trick.

The end.

Haha.

Heat olive oil in a non-stick or stick frying pan and gently add the rice cakes to it. Like a sniper. Three to four minutes later, turn them over. They should be golden brown on the cooked side and easy to turn over as well. It’s easy when the bottom is cooked. These things are connected and written into the fibre of the universe. I might sound like I’m making it all up but I’m not. Repeat this on the other side and take it off the stove and place it on a paper towel or plate. Paper towel to soak the extra oil or plate because you used olive oil and your worries should have disappeared by now.

In the same pan, crack an egg and cook until the white is set. You can cook the egg as you choose, I’m not going to be an egg Nazi.

Decorate your plate with edible plant-based nourishment (tomatoes and salad greens) and breakfast is ready.

I’m going back to bed.

(PS: I will have a mother’s special vegetable pulao recipe up on here this week. It’s only fair)