This post has been languishing in the drafts for all of summer. I must have opened this post to edit at least two dozen times and closed it each time even before a few sentences trickled down. It just did not happen. A laid back recipe made of a generous handful of summer, a good measure of what is called ‘life’, a cup of lost mojo, a tablespoon of procrastination, a teaspoon of writer’s block beat the better of a pinch of my best intentions this past season. Given my liking for the dish, ideally, this should have been one of my first few posts on this blog. Nevertheless, in spite of a pot full of excuses I did manage to get the post together finally. Hope you’ll like it.
Bitter Gourd rings simmered in freshly ground coconut, black pepper, tamarind gravy
I think about this all the time.
An Apple Pie or a Tiramisu, say a Chocolate pots de crème – people need no introduction on any of these dishes, let alone ask for ingredients. A mention of the dish is pretty much enough to lure anyone to grab and taste. This is true for many of us, isn’t it? How often does someone totally new to a dish from another cuisine get drawn to and motivated to cook it without a clue about its taste, especially when it is a typical traditional dish never seen in any restaurant?
Bitter Gourd in a palate clearing sweet and spicy tamarind gravy – mom’s recipe
It was end of the 90’s and the beginning of my hostel days. The very first time that I was on my own, in a place far enough from home and certainly with no access to home food. Home sick I was, like hell. Except, once a month when Amma would come to see me. Religiously, I would look forward to the first week of the month, because I could get to see Amma, spend the special day catching up and end the day co-sleeping, sharing the same hostel bed, chatting away into the wee hours until we fell asleep before she left early the next morning. Continue reading →
I was reading this book on foraging last week when I learnt that United States is the most nut endowed country in the world. Upon reading that, I realized, my life so far has gone by without having sighted a single nut-tree or a fresh nut. However, living in Houston has come to be a boon in certain ways. Over the years, we have come to know this city to be a melting pot of cultures owing to its bustling oil and gas industry. As a result, this place is dotted with food joints representing a variety of cuisines and specialty grocery stores from around the world, Mediterranean being one of them.