Documenting My Secret Affair with Labneh

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Wordless Wednesdays - 1

 "Sometimes, sambhar is just a distant dream"
ft. idli and molaga podi

Linking to Wordless Wednesdays

O - Orotti and Patthiri

You know one of those memories from your childhood that aren’t really special, so to speak, but will always stay with you? Allow me to share one of those.

I was maybe 12? 13? I remember wearing my favorite ‘home’ skirt and tattered tee that Mum never really liked and standing by the slab in the kitchen as Grandma fired up the gas stove and set the girdle on it.

There is this thing at home, whenever the older ladies of the family are doing housework, it is the duty of the girls in the house to offer to help them. I remember hating this rule growing up for it meant me having to offer to do odd jobs in the kitchen like bring chillies from the fridge, wash the parsley and coriander and peel onions, when I could very well be snuggled up with chocolate fudge and Harry Potter.  

Anyway, there I was standing in the hot kitchen with nothing much to do but unable to go back to my room when Grandma started telling me the recipe to make what she was making. She added water to rice flour, put some stuff in it that made the dough smell heavenly (zeera, coconut and salt, basically). The girdle was hot and ready by then, she ladled a bit of oil and started patting down a ball of dough onto it – all the while giving me instructions on how many ways there are to mess it up and how not to. I remember thinking the edges were broken and when I would make them, they would have perfectly rounded edges.  

While about twenty of them were being cooked - Grandma kept up a constant chatter about how it was a Malappuramdish and how she had seen her grandma make it on a choolha when she was a kid and all that. Then she proceeded to whip up a liquid out of seemingly innocent coconut milk with crunchy brown onions floating in it and whatnot.

Then she set me down a plate on the kitchen table and had me ‘taste’ it (this was an advantage of/reward for sticking around in the kitchen, I get to sample everything in large quantities). I have to say, by all the Gods of the realm, I have never had better orotti and patthiri. Or any kind of food for that matter.

 
She has never made it after that. I have never known what to ask for, if at all it is available in hotels. But that memory and the taste of those pancakes (for lack of a better word) remain with me, vivid and colorful, complete with how it tasted, till date. 

L- Lemonade. Masala Lemonade.

When it comes to food, I’m a very continental kind of person. I like my pastas, my English breakfasts with the baked beans and the omelettes, the egg salads and the lightly drizzled olive oil dressings and whatnot. I will also order the forever-my-companion peach iced tea, every chance I get. But come summer (which is the most hated season in my book), I will forget all the Memness and indulge in the heaven that is masalalemonade. 

The server comes up to the table and puts down a tall, tall glass of lightly colored heaven on my table, bubbling invitingly, boasting of the light sprinkling of spicy masala and I can smell the green freshness of the beautiful mint leaves that adorns it which is perfectly partnered by that expertly sliced wedge of summery yellow lemon. I take a sip and the perfect blend of spice, soda, cold and salt hit me, right in the head. And right there, folks, is nirvana in a glass. 

There is something so comforting, something so light and airy about the drink that puts me in good spirits almost instantly and now that even Bangalore summers are going up to 38 degrees, this is the one thing that is keeping me sane. Oh and ordinary lemonade won’t do, it has to be the masala version.

 
I really wish I had a picture that I clicked myself but most of the time I’m busy gulping from the glass and ordering seconds to click any. And yes, I love it so much that I will dedicate an entire post to it :P
 

FMS Prompts: # 3...

Quick note: I won't be posting on weekends until I get my internet fixed. 

 Your favorite recipe, even if you are the worst cook in the world...

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Okay, so there is this thing I do when I’m down or when I need a quick pick-up or mostly when I settle down with a book. It’s not so much a recipe, its not even solid food but to me its tradition, it’s one of those things that tell me that all WILL be right with the world. 

So, next time you go to the supermarket, pick up five-six 5-buck packets of a regular chocolate drink - I prefer Bournvita but you can get Boost as well, I suppose. Take a big white (because white brings out the richness chocolaty color of the chocolate) mug, empty three packets into it, add one mountainously heaped spoon of milk powder and mix up the powders until its speckled chocolaty-types.

The next part is tricky. If you like a smooth consistency, add a bit of hot water and mix it up. If you’re like me and like it lumpy, go with cold water. BUT add VERY little water because the idea is to get a pasty, thick consistency and it is very easy for it to get runny, if you don’t pay attention. So once you get the right consistency, stick a spoon in it and take it with you to your reading nook or under the comforter.

I wish I could give you my own pictures of it but I instinctively dive in every time I put it together that I forget photography till I’ve licked it clean, so sorry.

Possible additions/garnish: crumbled English Marie, raisins, almonds, a small dollop of marmalade, a pinch of coconut shavings… well, go crazy. 

Warnings: Don’t let your mother catch you at it; if yours is anything like mine, you’ll get a good solid yelling for stealing the chocolate powder. Also, don’t try this with cocoa powder, not even the sweetened kind. Unless you want to walk around with a ‘yegh’ face for an hour or two.

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P.S: What is your food tradition/quick-fix for blues?