“It’s very simple ma, first fry the sprouts in oil, then put the masala paste. Pressure cook and then put coconut milk.” my mother said over the phone.
I headed to the kitchen. I saw all the utensils to be washed. I decided to do that while I pressure cook the sprouts . I started preparing for the masala paste. I chopped the onions roughly since they were to be made a paste anyway. I followed the same principle for the tomatoes as well. And then garlic,ginger,cloves,cinamon,coriander powder, chilly powder, and coriander leaves. I put those in the grinder jar. The coriander leaves almost came out. I some how managed to get two locks secured.
When I plugged in and turned the knob, the grinder made a lot noise. But the coriander leaves remained unmoved. Too much of load, I thought. I opened the lid and transferred half of the contents in a small bowl. Tried again but ended up with the same result.
I put half of the remaining half in another bowl because I had taken a smaller bowl initially. The same result. It continued until I made a dry run and realized the blade wasn’t ‘t turning. It was only the motor of the mixer making all the noise. I tried to remove the blade but couldn’t.
Since we were leaving the next day, I had to save the sprouts. Complete their journey to our stomach. I couldn’t think of putting all the roughly chopped stuff into the curry. It would ruin it. Even if I saved the sprouts with some other recipie, I couldn’t think of any practical purpose of the raw masala ingredients now in three of my small bowls with a broken grinder.
I looked at the bowls, I looked at the sink. I looked at the sprouts. The three bowls I had managed not to put in the sink the previous day, were also to be washed as well. There was only one thing left to do.
Relax, I told myself while waiting for my husband to pick my call.
You don’t know how to handle this but you know what iambic pentameter is. An iambic is made up of two syllables, first unstressed, second stressed,
“Mixey is not working.”
“What were you doing?”
“Trying to grind masala paste”
“You mean the small grinder is not working?”
“Yes and the medium sized one doesn’t fit.”
“Use the juicer.”
I immediately cut the call and took a moment to applaud the brilliance of the idea. But it’s called juicer for a reason. What if it doesn’t work? Simple, I had to wash the juicer as well. I transferred all the contents to the juicer and put a lot of water. And then ended up with a green juice kind of thing instead of a thick paste.
I fried the sprouts, put the juice and put the pressure cooker lid on. Halfway into washing utensils, like it always happens, I realized I had completely forgotten about coconut milk. I grated the coconut and put it in the juicer and again put a lot of water. Anyway I would stain it. But until the cooker cooled down I hadn’t realized that there ain’t no sieve in the house.
I put, this time white juice, into the curry. I put chopped potatoes, which I should have put earlier, and chopped capsicum and waited a very long time for the potatoes to cook and the curry to thicken.
In between I called my husband and told him that his idea worked and also I understood why all the utensils end up in the sink everyday. I called my mother and told her, it’s indeed not very simple to prepare malkehuli saaru.
“Do you know what iambic pentameter is?”
“No, but we will buy a sieve.”
1. Yes, weird shit happens in your life so that you can blog.
2. Find out if husband is a mind reading machine.
3. You can screw up but a quick thinking husband can save your day.
4. Learn the art of minimal use of utensils.