To all those who have been reading my posts, I would like to inform that I have shifted to wordpress to enhance my blogging experience. You can continue to follow my posts here:
honeyleafs.wordpress.com I shall also continue to share my posts on my facebook profile: www.facebook.com/madhuparnasngpt Hope to see you soon. lots of love, Madhu.
0 Comments
Hello everybody,
first of all I really want to apologize for not posting anything for the past few days. I understand that one must be committed to blogging, but the stress of past few days took over my writing capability. Without much ado let us move forward to the second post of my blog. Enjoy! It all started yesterday evening when I found a tub of cottage cheese in my fridge. Throughout my life I was living in the illusion that cottage cheese is equivalent to ‘paneer’; I presume that is the case with most of the Indians. Anyway, so when I opened the tub, unlike the solid object we normally find in a packet of ‘paneer’, I found a mushy substance. I realized my mistake and presumed it to be ‘chenna’: the one made from curdled milk. So I replaced my idea of making ‘Paneer butter masala’ (an Indian delicacy) with ‘chanar dalna’ (a Bengali delicacy). So, my voyage to cook a perfect weekend dinner for my husband began. I followed the recipe strictly. I hung the cheese in neat cotton handkerchief for half an hour to let all the water out. I added flour to it and made patties, I rested them in the refrigerator for few minutes and then heated the oil to fry them. No sooner did I add them to the hot oil, the entire thing melted: I re-realized my mistake; its neither paneer nor chenna. The liquid-thing soon begun to boil, making a peculiar sound, as if the wok was raging against me for putting something disgusting in its belly. To torture it further I added the sautéed veggies and masalas to it. The final summary of my entire deed is that I prepared the most horrifying dish of my entire life; or so I thought. I was full of guilt while presenting the dish to my husband so I quickly prepared a normal ‘aloo dum’ and dal (cooked lentils) for him as redemption. During dinner we sat across each other. Like a guilty prisoner I hung my head in shame. Eyes filled with water, getting ready to roll out any minute. “It's good”, he said. “Huh?” My heart skipped a beat! I raised my head, only to find the ‘aloo dum’ and the dal untouched. My husband had finished half of his dinner with the cheesy-veggie thing. “What’s the dish again?” I suppressed a laugh, “aaa….I haven’t thought of a name..yet”, I said confidently. So to conclude it can be said that we had peaceful dinner and I was saved for the night :) All’s well ends well. Have you ever experienced such disaster in your life that proved to be a miracle in the end? Please let us know in the comment section below. P.S. From my experience shared above, I feel that I must not dare to share the recipe of my latest innovative dish :P Days are longer in Lansing; probably because I spend day all alone. Everyday after finishing all my chores I look outside my window, keep staring at the trees, looking closely at the leaves as they change colours….ah! Fall is here! I hear the wild ducks quack all day, lazily strolling the lawn of our apartment. The squirrels scurrying through the grass make me smile; scratching the ground vigorously in search of nuts. And then there are the sparrows! Who could have thought that the chirping of these little brown birds could make me so jovial? I hardly have any visitors in Lansing. The sparrows are the only ones that visit my balcony, so I needed to give them a befitting welcome. I serve my everyday visitors with grains of rice scattered on newspapers.First there would be only one, moving to and fro the veranda, as if carefully inspecting the environment to ensure the safety of its companions. After being satisfied it calls for its mates in a full-throated voice. Soon the silence around me is filled with joyful chirps; they feed, they sing, they prance. I see them carefully through the other side of my glass. After relishing the last grain of rice, they fly away; only to return after sometime, craving for more. I serve them again..and again..and again..it is just never enough! All smiles I engage myself in reading books and recipes (my latest fascination). When the clock ticks 5 pm, my husband returns home. A warm hug from him reenergises me. We indulge in board games, Facebook chats and much more. Small talks, friendly fights, innocent teasing and never ending laughter fills my evening. He understands my loneliness throughout the day and so he makes small attempts to make it up to me in the evening. At the end of the day I find solace in his arms; so when a call comes from India asking, “How are you?” my heart shrieks out with joy “I am very happy! He made me very happy”. |
ArchivesI am an ordinary individual who loves to eat, read, travel and write. I am from a small town of India and presently residing in a far away land. I am homesick yet I feel privileged to be able to discover my new home town.
|