Obsessions Galore!

I have it all figured out. (You bet!) Life is all about obsessing. {Drumroll…}

Seriously, you can be passionate about a lot of things but the only ones which transform themselves into success stories are those that you are obsessive about. As the disclaimer goes - this rule applies only to an Average Joe like me. Albeit as with any law or rule, exceptions must occur. But of course, the exceptionally smart and the truly talented, could be good at things they cared two boots about. Not me. Whatever it is I do, I have to take it to a point of feverish obsession to actually make it happen in a passable way. (I sure do hope prospective employers never read this. :o) People that repudiate hard work would dispute this line of thought. A close contender to obsession is quite definitely, F-O-C-U-S. Putting the two together, the key to happiness could be defined as - Obsess about what you want to do and if you want it badly enough, suffuse it with focus to achieve it. This article here talks about the maestro ARR’s simple self-taught guidelines and leaves one in awe!

I was obsessed with fitness and weight-loss a decade ago and that paid off handsomely; it was almost like rebirth when I lost the 80 odd pounds. At the risk of sounding pompous, I’d dare say - now that is one maniacal obsession, I would never like to lose. Though I have to confess, the enthusiasm has waned some now. (May be that is why I don’t hit the gym as much as I like anymore…see!) In the latter part of the past decade, I became fanatical about eating right and the saga continues. I am a firm believer of – You are what you eat (and) If health is lost, everything is lost. Perhaps that is why I so religiously admire Raj Ganpath (an indirect friend) for the work he does. I cannot help but extoll the indomitable courage with which he threw away his desk job and pursued what he liked doing best.

When it comes to hobbies, my passions for a few art forms seem to be ambling around in my day-to-day journey of existence but a busy life being a mom and managing a career keeps my hands fettered. Vee’s brain is wired differently – not a surprise, he is from Mars, right. Vee adds a whole new dimension to obsessing, I should say. He is a zealot who is unstoppable once he sets his mind on something. Sometimes, we are pitted against each other in pursuing hobbies. Following a time-off policy which allows each one their much-needed space for coddling art forms is the ideal sweet spot we’d like to achieve. Over the years I have known him, his interests have segued from one thing to another – photography, love for nature, skiing, motorcycle riding, roller-skating, ice-skating, short stints of tennis and now back to more DSLR photography. Talk about - Jack of all trades…and the-rest-shall-not-be-said. (Tongue-in-cheek moment, Vee! ;))

Around 8 weeks ago, we went to watch Sanhiti’s dance show “Perceptions” – a fundraiser for the latest Charity Org – Aram Sei. Tangible performance and mind-blowing production! A very intoxicating feeling it was, to watch the entire troop sway gracefully to peppy Tamil numbers, drawn together by their steadfast predilection for dance. Irumbiley Oru Irudayam Mulaikudo – which stole the best dance of the evening place (in my head, that is), was choreographed in an entirely different light (literally!) and it totally worked. From start to end, the dance was projected on a screen in the form of dancing shadows (of the dancers hidden scrupulously behind the screen), interestingly sequined with computer-graphically generated animated silhouettes. “Shadow dance” enthralled the audience so much that it had everyone screaming “once more”! These beautiful shows tend to instill in one, fresh and unadulterated motivation, and that’s precisely what I love most about them.  I can’t begin to imagine what it takes to be a part of something of that magnitude while working full-time in high-profile Silicon Valley jobs. Commitment, a by-product of obsession needs to be paid its due diligence respect to see aspirations come true, I observe. My takeaway conclusion - Redefining aforementioned key to succeed à Obsess about what you want to do and if you want it badly enough, suffuse it with focus and make a commitment to achieve it.

I don’t have to look far to draw inspiration in reality. Every morning, the News Feed on FB beckons me to read updates of friends, showcasing a lot of talent. I seem to have a very dandy social network with highly cultivated tastes. It is heartwarming to see a vivid display in a potpourri fashion which includes the works of an eclectic mix of artists, dancers, bakers, fitness bloggers, health freaks, jewelry designers, astute entrepreneurs and photography-buffs – to only name a few. Just so you know I am not kidding, I have added links to some of my friends who seem to be doing excellent work here à 1, 2 and 4.

After writing about the fitness GOD, this post would be a shame if I didn’t follow it with a grain-free recipe. I have been experimenting a lot on grain-free cooking and hope to add a lot of recipes under that section. Here’s one simple dish to begin with…Okra-Mushroom Curry. I like to call this a curry because the veggies hold their texture pretty well as opposed to a soup. But this can be eaten as is, like a soup or with some gooey protein-rich cottage cheese on the side. I find cottage cheese to be a good substitute for grains almost always and it pairs really well with spiced curries.

Ingredients -

1) Chopped mushrooms - 3/4th cup

2) Frozen or fresh okra - 3/4th cup (chopped)

3) Onion - 1/2 - diced

4) Garlic - 3 cloves - chopped finely

5) Paprika  - 1/4 tspn

6) Red chilli flakes - 1/2 a tspn

7) Salt - to taste

8) Olive Oil - 1-2 tspns

9) Carrots - 2
10) Red Bell Pepper -1
11) Vegetable Broth - 2 cups

Method -

1) Pressure cook the carrots and bell pepper for 1 whistle. Cool and grind to a smooth paste.
2) Heat Olive oil slightly and season with garlic and red chilli flakes.

3) Add onions and saute.

4) Toss in the mushrooms - saute.

5) Okra - saute for a few minutes.

6) Add broth, cover and simmer until okra softens.

7) Stir in the ground paste along with paprika powder.

8) Bring to a rolling boil and remove from flame.

9) Garnish with cilantro to infuse a lovely rasam-like comfort flavor.

A leaf out of my memory book and cupcakes!

It was the summer of 1992 during my 8-week break before moving to the ninth grade. Since my family had suffered a traumatic loss just a couple years prior to the time frame that had driven us to despondency, my dad decided the time was ripe to splurge on a long-awaited vacation. The choice of places was easy - our beloved Delhi and my dad's personal favorite - Kanpur. I was more than thrilled because it was to be my first visit to Kanpur and I couldn't wait to get back to Delhi to meet all the familiar and much-loved faces of my childhood. The multitude of Uncles, Aunties, Bhaiyyas, Didis compounded with the friends I had from school, made it an impressive number of people to meet in the fifteen days we were going to spend there. The itinerary was all charted out and ready by the end of March and I could barely manage to stay composed during the austere annual exam season. Do you happen to remember the feeling that washes over you, the moment you finish penning down the answer to the very last question, on the very last day of the very last exam, in the very last half hour? You are so relieved that your mind almost forgets to nag you that you are pretty worried over how that History exam from two days ago is going to turn out. (History exams were my worst nightmares in those days, you see. I could never reconcile with the fact that you had to memorize and remember mundane details with precise timing of when they happened and what repercussions followed. In retrospect, I attribute that middle school paranoia to being taught by an intimidatingly stickler duo – Ms. S and Ms. F.) I had been subjected to a fairly big change very early in life when we moved from North India to South India. If you remember the India of the 80’s and 90’s, this was a huge deal; analogous to moving to a different country because everything changed overnight. Delhi – a swanky city I was immoderately fond of – was too hard to let go and it continued to haunt my dreams in a pleading way. So when my dad proposed this trip, I was jumping with joy thinking of the happy reunion with my favorite city after three long arduous years.

On the day of departure, I was dizzy with happiness with the only sad part being parting from my three little sweethearts – Revathi, Bharathi and Madhu aged 3, 3 and 6 respectively. The trio sisters and I literally lived under the same roof and regarded each other as 4 happy sisters. I could wax eloquent about the relationship I shared with their parents (R Uncle and G Auntie) but I should save that up for later. I will never know what it is like to have an Uncle of my own but I sure do know what it felt like to be treated as one of his own. G Auntie was more sibling-like and I adored her for everything she was. After hugs and kisses with R Uncle’s family, my dad and I reached Chennai Central. We were greeted by the characteristic unpleasant odors of the railway station that brought back a lot of memories from our tryst with the station in the 80’s. Nevertheless it was a heartwarming feeling in spite of spotting rats scuffling around near the tracks. We had a coupe sleeper to ourselves for a whole two days and two nights and no sooner had the engine tugged at the coaches, than I buried my nose in one of the bunch of books I had specially brought along for the long journey. Ah! Paradise found! Today, I would give anything to being able to do something like that – be a kid on a summer trip with no worries nagging at your mind that you can actually finish reading books in the peace and quiet of a train’s coupe compartment with its multifarious rocking motions, gently caressing you to sleep. After a panoramic journey punctuated with many picturesque sights, we alighted from the train on to the Kanpur Station when the night was still young. A minor glitch in the colossal travel system caused a mere couple hours of delay. But we were still living in the sans-mobile-phones era and little did we know that that would cause this glitch to mutate itself into a mini-volcano. Here’s how that came about.

My half-Punjabi cousins who meant to receive us, showed up much earlier than the train’s arrival and to their chagrin, got informed by the Information Desk that the train was running late by 4 or so hours. Hence when we arrived just a couple hours late, there was no familiar face that we caught a glimpse of. Well…they still had the PCOs (Public Call Office a.k.a payphone) at the station, right. All one had to do was tender some change into the device and make a call for rides. Off we went, in search of a PCO and soon managed to find one which was flanked by a seemingly odd bunch of four guys, hanging out together. We decided to wait up behind them but no, that was not meant to be. The man who was the biggest of all, wore a yellow silk shirt with black trousers and had sunglasses perched atop his head. A few beads of sweat glistened on his temples which had caked the excess talcum powder there, giving his face a white outline. My memory has faded a little but I will not be exaggerating if I added he had a red cloth tied like a scarf loosely around his neck which partially concealed a few heavy gold chains. The corner of his mouth was adorned with irregularly shaped tiny red blotches – marks left by red drool while chewing on paan (betel leaf). The other three guys fit the bill of stooges and looked like the sorts that wasted time piddling around at public places. My womanly instincts flared up the very instant the Yellow Shirt guy started giving us undue attention and I looked askance at him. My dad, I was sure, didn’t smell anything rotten but I had a funny feeling in my tummy. Anyway, this dubious chap greeted us cheerily and offered to help us out by getting us a cab. We declined his offer politely by stating all we had to do was to make the call. He not-so-lightly patted the back of one of the stooges’ heads and asked him to rush an order of soft drinks for us. We refused again but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. To paint an accurate picture, he was weaving the word “Sir-ji” a lot in his conversation as in --> Aap Bolo Sir-ji, Hum aapko taxi pakadvadeyngey sir-ji, Aap chinta math keejiye, sirji, Aap number bolo, hum mila key deyngey sir-ji. (Translation --> Do not worry my respected sir; we’ll get you on a cab in no time; I will dial the number for you, sire, just let me know the phone number.) The number was dialed and the message conveyed, which ensured the waiting cousins left for the station immediately after. As we sat making small talk with this shady bunch sipping our drinks in the waiting area, two things happened. 1- I felt a hand graze my back a couple times; the first time I was willing to give it the benefit of the doubt but the second time, my heart was in my mouth. 2 - We were attracting a lot of stares from the folks in the waiting area. The gang promised to bring us something more (dinner may be!?), for which they momentarily disappeared and lo behold, two families approached us and told us to get the hell out of the place. I distinctly remember what one good lady, clad in a crisp saree and big bindi with a perfect pedicure, had to say to my dad – In Kanpur, there is no paucity of Goondahs (crooks) in the current times; they target naïve tourists and you have a young daughter; so please take care and leave while you still can. If my dad had slight doubts lingering in his head after the first gentleman had warned him, he had none left, after the lady made her statement. Seizing the opportunity and praying that we lose them, my dad and I scurried away into the teeming masses of people gathered near the exit. I was praying we would miraculously melt away and within five minutes, we were in a cab, speeding towards the cousins’ place. Adrenaline rush is an understatement; it felt like a great escape, akin to the ones in the Hindi movies. My dad must have been deeply disturbed by the events that had transpired surely, because he never once brought this up with me again. The eventful night came to an end, with us being welcomed warmly by the friendly and lovable Lab Retriever at my Aunt’s. The poor cousins returned in due course after the second futile trip to the Station that night. As we were cozily huddled together with the family on the couch after being plied with delish hot parathas and subzi, the phone rang. Wondering aloud who it could be at that hour, my aunt answered the call. It scared the living daylights out of me when I heard the Yellow Shirt guy on the other end of the line asking for me!?! How in the world had he gotten the number? Of course he had memorized it, when he had fleetingly dialed the number, feigning concern for us. Oops! Butterflies fluttered around in the nooks and crannies of my anatomy. I was determined to not let the inner fear belie the stern note in my voice telling him to not call up again. The irksome calls would not stop for a couple days at which point, we enlisted the help of a specific someone to convey in a brusque way (read with the use of threatening/intimidating/curse jargon) to leave us alone. That did the trick…sure enough, the stalker did abandon us after that.

Contrary to the lousy manner in which the much awaited holiday had commenced, the rest of that trip went fairly well, interlaced (not particularly in that order) with - extended family reunions, sightseeing expeditions, Lucknow forts, shopping for Lucknowi Kurtas, Punjabi weddings, IIT Delhi Campus parties, childhood BFFs (Manjula and Preethi) meet-ups, primary school visit, authentic Delhi khaana and the likes. Today, many years later, whenever I reminisce about the days long gone, the Yellow Shirt guy unfailingly makes an appearance in the Kanpur Station scene playing out in my head. :o Interesting, it is, how certain people inadvertently end up getting locked in memories forever of some unlikely others.

As far as a recipe for this post goes, I wanted to write about some cupcakes I made for Vee’s birthday last year. Vee and Kzee (the new addition to the Blushing Basil household who turned two recently) chowed the entire batch down in less than two days. I followed the recipe for these Real Strawberry Cupcakes, verbatim from All Recipes here. The only change I made, was to reduce the pudding mix to 2 tbspns instead of 3 tbspns to give it less of an artificial flavor. The cupcakes turned out delightfully soft and very moist.

Frosted Real Strawberry Cupcakes

All right, signing off now! :)

My first bread and an incomplete post!

One of my posts from drafts (talking about July 4th, 2009 and the weekend after) -

I am back from a refreshing double bonanza of lovely times over the past two weekends. The weekend before the last - the July 4th one turned out to be memorable because one of my very best friends visited us with her family. It feels weird to be writing 'her family' because her hubby happens to be an old classmate and good friend too. So the new member in reality was her cute little seventeen-month old. Anu and I met after a gap of 3 long years but it really felt like we had seen each other just the previous day. I always seem to get this euphoric feeling only with friends that I am most comfortable at heart with and do not have to worry about anything. They arrived in the wee hours of Friday morning (July 3rd) and a beautiful four days whirred past us. Though we did make it a point to go places almost every day, we didn't do anything spectacular or crazy. But just hanging out with each other after eons of separation was sufficient to effuse our souls with bubbling spirits. I was particularly enchanted by how the boombox can instantly calm a seventeen month old with an inordinate fondness for music. Music of any sorts seems to make him go from absolutely refusing to swallow his tiny bite-sized morsels of food to sitting around and dancing to the tunes (that's when you sneak in some food into his mouth). In short, Pranav was a delight to be with and he made us laugh a lot with all his sweetly naughty antics. The one other highlight of that weekend was our seventh-floor apartment proving to be an excellent vantage point for watching fireworks on the night of 4th. As the adage goes, all good things have to come to an end, Monday night saw the entire family pack their bags and leave. Farewells always make me way too queasy and I despise them. But we assured ourselves this time around saying we would be meeting up soon enough. (I'll have to wait and watch to see if that prophecy comes true now.)

The following weekend was a planned trip to Yosemite - planned solely with the view of taking my dad around but which soon got morphed into a hearty party of eight of us when our friends accepted our trip plan with alacrity. We booked a family suite at Cedar Lodge and I should say I was quite impressed with the maintenance and cleanliness of the place. It was a comfortable stay in the wilderness that did a good job at erasing all signs of weariness from us folks who had driven for over 5 hours to get there Friday night. We awoke on Saturday morning to the soft chirping of birds on trees surrounding the cabin and within minutes got organized into a team making cheese-mint sandwiches for breakfast. (One good thing that is an undeniable part of nature trips is you are not counting calories simply because 1-you can't afford to and 2-you are feeling assured you are going to burn them off during the day. :)) We were fortunate to enjoy the company of yet another kid for this weekend - Sunitha's little one Sathvik (a three-year old this time). Sunitha and Ram were pretty efficient at having him all dressed and fed, well before the ETD. By a half past nine in the morning we were driving through the very scenic serpentine road (that culminates in the entrance to the Yosemite Park) alongside the gushing Merced river. My heart always does a little victory jig inside me while experiencing anything remotely mountain and to be at a place which clearly earns the privilege of one of THE BEST mountain parks where nature seems to be untouched by man's threat, was nothing less than experiencing heaven to me. When we were hiking back from Lake Mirror, we were pleasantly surprised to share the road with a hirsute bear cub for a few brief moments. Though you have an unknown fear gnawing away at some corner of your heart, you cannot ignore the sheer adrenaline rush you feel that makes you want more of it.

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Back to the present (March 24th 2012) - I don't remember the details vividly enough anymore to expound on that good trip of ours over two years ago. So one shall just say - Well! It was an absolutely relaxing and exhilarating trip one had during the first trimester of one's pregnancy. :) I was/and will continue to remain enamored by the pristine beauty of Yosemite.

If you know me really well, it wouldn't surprise you that my first bread was a focaccia. A focaccia - with olives, rosemary and lemon. I primarily used this and this to create my own version detailed below. I baked this over a year ago but I distinctly remember that both Vee and I enjoyed a slice of this every day for a week along with a hearty cup of oatmeal. We just couldn't get enough of it!

Focaccia just before sticking in the oven

Baked goodness - Olive-Rosemary Focaccia

Ingredients -

For the Dough -->

1) Active Dry Yeast - 1.5 tspns

2) All Purpose Flour - 2.125 cups

3) Warm Water - 1 cup

4) Salt - 1/2 tspn

5) Olive Oil - 1 tbspn

6) Extra Flour for dusting - a little

7) Cornmeal - a little

For the Topping -->

1) Kalamata Olives (pitted; sliced) - 1/4 cup

2) Black Olives (pitted; sliced) - 1/4 cup

3) Fresh Rosemary - a few sprigs

4) Olive Oil - 3 tbspns

5) Garlic Cloves - 3 (Thinly sliced or crushed)

6) Sea Salt - 1/2 tspn

7) Cracked Black Pepper - 1/2 tspn

Method -

1) Dissolve the yeast in warm water.
2) Take the solution from step 1 and fold together with half the flour, olive oil, sugar and salt.
3) Wrap the bowl and let it sit for 15-20 minutes in a warm place.
4) Mix in the remaining flour and knead well to make a soft pliable dough.
5) Refrigerate overnight.
6) The next day, the dough needs to sit again in a warm spot for 1-2 hours.

Shaping and Topping -->

7) Pour the dough on an oiled baking sheet (dusted with a little flour and cornmeal) and shape it like shown in pic.

8) Get creative with the toppings. :)

9) Stick it in a preheated oven at 425 degrees F for about 15-20 mins.

10) Let cool on a cooling rack before slicing through...

Diwali!

Best wishes from the blushingbasil household...
(Diwali classics in the pic - Mullu Murukku (lentil fritters), Almond Halwa and Mango Shrikhand)

Fenugreek Leaves' Sambar

When I sit down to write a post, most often I do not have a clue as to what to write about. The recipe part is the easier of the two. So for the story part, I just begin with whatever is on the top of my mind at the moment and then ramble on about it. Today's recipe about Methi Sambar is a neat recipe and turns out to be one of my faves but there's nothing glamorous about it that I can write stories about.

To play catch up for the months I have been missing out posting -

Feb - left me frazzled since the rush of things so demanded to exercise some of my old-time indefatigable spirit. (No, I don't enjoy being that and did pleasantly surprise myself that I could pull it off (again).)
V-Day - Though the practical half of my brain agrees that the hype about Feb 14th is one pompous marketing gimmick that is prevalent worldwide, I have to confess that I got bitten by the V-day bug a long time ago. Gimmick or no gimmick, I associate this day with a colorful kaleidoscope of events ever since my undergrad days. The anticipation and nerves felt was very infectious even to a person completely untouched by the fever (like me). The atmosphere remained charged all through the week and culminated in very different ways for every walking soul. It also led to a lot of "illegal" betting as to who would give THE card to who and the act of speculation turned out to be the top-rated sport of the month. It was considered perfectly normal (for even those very serious-in-life-first-benchers) to bandy around gossip. You could hear a lot of shushing in the corridors when some much sought-after maidens or hunks passed by. Times have changed and a decade has rolled by...V-Day has metamorphosized to being more predictable and pleasant. But I sure do miss the feeling of restlessness that so accompanies folks in their very early 20s. ;)

March - February segued into March and things mellowed down quite a bit. It was suffused with numerous fun events, a refreshing change to enjoy blithely, after what seemed like forever. (The two girls I consider "best" friends were on a long vacation in India and I couldn't help missing the insanely interesting phone chats.)

April - saw me very excited when my dad finally booked his tickets to here. Albeit he was never against visiting here, it took convincing from at least 15 different people to make him take a break from his teaching job at the college. The tough part was trying to drive down the fact that "now" was indeed a good time! He arrives in the first week of June and needless to say I’m thrilled. Apart from that, we also had one of our customary potlucks, complete with dress code and all. Though donning a sari is one of the most complicated tasks for an artistically-challenged imbecile like me, I never relent and make use of any opportunity that comes my way. The guests arrived resplendent in colorful and trendy kurtas and saris. We had a ball of a time hogging and playing games until late into the night.

May – was good especially because of all the summer shopping I unabashedly indulged in. On Sundays, Vee and I did some serious trail biking on our mountain bikes on the ever-so scenic trails in and around the Bay Area, wending our ways to the summit. Riding alongside a bubbling brook or going downhill on a bumpy dirt road unfailingly proves to be a catharsis of all the built-up stress.

June - After work, I love watching the sunset from our 7th floor west-facing apartment. The garnet ball that sinks into the horizon has one musing over whether this epitome of serenity could indeed be the rambunctious sun that scorches mercilessly during the day. The shimmering light adorns the worn-out city like a jewel. (hmm...dreamland eh?)

Getting back to this recipe, I am quite a fan of the unique taste of Fenugreek leaves and always have stuck religiously to Aloo-Methi to relish it. The downside to Aloo-Methi is I can't make it as often as I'd like due to the high carb nature of potatoes. My quest for an equally interesting dish minus the high carb levels led me to this intensely flavored sambar. This is one of those recipes which I credit to Amma.

Methi Sambar served over hot rice and pan-fried plantain

Ingredients -
1) Fenugreek leaves - 2 large or 3 small bunches (leaves separated with short stalks on - washed)
2) Mustard seeds - 1 tspn
3) Fenugreek seeds - 3/4th tspn
4) Red chilies - 1
5) Toor dal - 1.5 tbspns
6) Asafetida - a generous pinch
7) Green chilies - 2
8) Toor dal - 1/2 a cup (separate from #5)
9) Turmeric Powder - 1/4 tspn
10) Olive Oil (or any cooking oil) - 2 tspns
11) Tamarind - Gooseberry-sized ball (soaked in 1/4 cup of warm water for 20 minutes)
12) Sambar Powder - 2 heaped tspns (Scale this down if your sambar powder has a lot of heat in it.)

Method -
1) In a pressure cooker, heat oil and season with ingredients 2-7 adding one at a time and evenly frying them.
2) Add in washed toor dal on top of the sauteed condiments.
3) Stack cleaned and washed fenugreek leaves as the third tier and pour just enough water so the lentils get cooked.
4) Sprinkle half the salt you intend to use for the dish along with turmeric powder and pressure cook for 3 whistles or 8 minutes if you are using an electric pressure cooker.
5) Squeeze the juices out of the soaked tamarind, add some water if needed so that the extract is no more than 1/2 a cup.
6) Boil the tamarind water with the remaining salt and the sambar powder.
7) After all the steam has cooled off, pour the tamarind-sambar powder mixture into the cooker and mash slightly.
8) Simmer for 5-7 minutes until it all comes together. (You can add more water if you like your sambar thin.)
9) Serve along with hot rice and watch the hungry folks dig in!

Oh man! We did it!

As a principle, I wouldn't want to write about something that has been/is going to be written about a lot but today I can barely contain the enormous rush of feelings towards ARR, Resul Pookutty and Slumdog as a movie in general. Millions are the diehard fans of ARR (like me) in India and scores of us right from the moment we heard Chinna Chinna Aasai in Roja way back in 1991, but the very realization that this adorable wonder-boy from Chennai has transformed himself into a leaf in the history of India is simply mind-blowing. The sheer delight in being able to perform on a stage as prestigious as the Academy Awards by itself is an achievement of a lifetime for any Indian. I'm sure fellow Indians would agree with me, we would consider that as pride unequalled even if ARR hadn't bagged any award last night. Seeing him exude his trademark unassuming, soft-spoken, very-common-man-like persona in a ceremony which is probably the ultimate showcase of glamour, riches and beauty was a breath of fresh air that serves to strengthen scores of age-old adages.

Resul Pookutty and ARR - we salute you! Jaya Ho!

P.S. - The only other truly remarkable thing about last night was getting to see that "the three kids" got to attend the Oscars too. What an indelible mark in the hearts of the families of those endearing kids who live in the Mumbai slums!

Bell Pepper Delight!

Oh no! Nooooo!

Oh yes, I chickened out! I hate to admit it but I have been pretty apprehensive about even attempting to type http://www.blogger.com/ in the address bar out of fear that guilt and emotion threaten to overcome me. I do not know if other bloggers experience something as insane as this but I kinda' hate visiting other blogs as well when I set foot into such a self-created predicament. Writing this post is almost like a confession about my dark side in reality. Vee says he suspects I must have suffered some trauma during childhood for me to react in this ridiculous fashion. But I've assured him that that is not the case. I have always been this able-minded individual right since I was a kid (almost like the kid in Robin Cook's Mutation, you know ;)). I have been busy no doubt, but the very feeling that I am unable to be religious in what I started haves me feeling like I want to throw up each time I hear the word "blog". My dear reader, if you didn't think I was that crazy while reading the beginning of this post, I'm sure you must have concluded I am no less than a mad girl whose madness has reached swooning proportions. The funny thing is I have been doing these kitchen expeditions which turned out to be good successes but no, I simply wouldn't click any pictures of those dishes. It is like the urge to click pictures for the blog got thrown out the window and got bulldozed by some roadwork vehicle. A classic case of nut-ism!

Q - So, how do I make peace with myself?

A - By being back with a bang! (Bang reads as a damn good recipe in my "mental" (literally) dictionary!)

Also, Anu kind of prodded me to at least post "something" (anything) because she's absolutely tired of looking at the Oats Pongal post for ages now! Should I waste some of my blog space lamenting about how busy it has been and blah blah? Hell, no! It is clichéd to say "Life is a rollercoaster" but I continue to be appalled by the sudden out-of-the-blue twists and turns. May be that's what keeps one's interest "to live" piqued. Imagine a world where everything was as utopian as it could get - you'd die out of boredom within a month!

Some good healthy recipes have been crowding my inbox these past 3 months which I am hoping will soon transform themselves into blog posts to see the light of the day. :)

Today, I have a lovely recipe up my sleeve to blog about. The name that I have coined for it might be misleading because in reality it is a dry curry which can be had as an accompaniment with any gravy or dal over rice. (Lest I incur the wrath of my Tamil friends here, this is called podi-idicha karamadu in my parents-in-laws' home.) Bell pepper had (yes, "had" not "has"!) been one of my favorite vegetables during my Delhi days. I wonder if it had something to do with the cooler climate in the north that had us hankering for the hot shimla mirch subzi or if it really was the bell pepper we got in Delhi during the 80's that was bursting with oodles of flavor. There was this kid named Ruchika in my class whose swanky lunch box always had some toothsome Punjabi curry or attractive fusion dish in it. Thanks to our moral ethics' cops (a.k.a. prefects), who took it on themselves to ensure the kids shared their food, I always got a bite or two of her appetizing lunches! Back home, I used to urge my mom to make the same dishes, Ruchika's mom's way. It was a tough call for her, since all she had to work with, was a 6-year old's description of the taste and appearance. But since moms' are born kitchen scientists, the outcome always turned out palatable, close to the original and more than enough to bring a smile on a kid's face. The huge hybrid bell pepper that we find in the U.S. sure does have a delicious crunch but it doesn't come close to its Indian counterpart which had a distinct hot taste to it. I personally prefer the red bell peppers to the green ones here. Also, I have taught myself to dress up the American pepper in ways which make the pepper feel special and loved.

Here goes one very South Indian recipe -

Ingredients -

1) Bell peppers - 6 medium-sized ones - chopped into 1" pieces

2) Oil - 2 tspns

3) Mustard - 1 tspn

4) Curry leaves - a few

5) Asafetida - a pinch

Fry in 1 tspn of oil, cool and grind to a coarse powder -

1) Bengal Gram Dal - 3 tspns

2) Whole Urad Dal - 3 tspns

3) Coriander Seeds - 3 tspns

4) Red Chilies - 3

5) Asafetida - a pinch

Method -

1) In a pan, heat the oil and splutter the mustard seeds, followed by curry leaves and asafetida.

2) Dunk in the chopped bell pepper.

3) Sprinkle water and cover and cook in low flame until almost cooked.

4) Turn up the heat, fry for a minute and sprinkle the ground powder.

5) Toss around until coated evenly and then continue frying for a few minutes.

6) Serve along with rice and gravy of your choice!

Note - The bell pepper can be substituted with pretty much any vegetable of your choice.