For the love of cricket and legume

As I write this post, sitting in my usual place on the couch, directly in front of the TV, within easy reach of the remote and the side table, the India-Sri Lanka World Cup finals is on. Sri Lanka is batting at 199-5 with 7 overs to go. I have cut my Saturday morning class, not because I am a cricket fanatic but because it seems the right thing to do.

It also seems fit then to write this post after another long hiatus. Back in the days, when I was blogging regularly, there was nothing I wanted to do more than host Susan’s My Legume Love Affair. A year and some months ago when I emailed her with my request, she told me the only spot she had was for April of 2011. It seemed a long way off back then. Susan assured me of time’s flying abilities and she was right. 

The last six months or so have been busier for me with a growing kid who has a busier social life than us and my own busy schedule. I do miss blogging, especially when I see a post or a recipe I have been wanting to blog about. Or when I cook something different from the usual fare and the family likes it, like Siri’s  brown rice bisibelebath. When I received Susan’s email, asking me if I still wanted to host MLAA, I couldn’t let it pass.


As if that wasn't motivation enough, Aqua @servedwithlove tweeted to @WSeasonedCook: "Oh good, at least hosting MLLA got her to post something on her blog after ages @Desisoccermom."  It is hard to let down a blogger buddy’s sweat sarcasm support. So here I am, announcing the ever popular MLAA - 34, which is the brilliant creation of Susan of The Well Seasoned Cook.

If you are not familiar with the event or new to the blogging world, MLAA is all about entrees where the star ingredient is a legume, bean, pea or pod, basically anything that constitutes as a legume. Before I bullet the official rules, please read what constitutes a legume for your recipe to qualify and refer to it before you decide to dash off an entry. Other than that, a little bit of imagination, a cup or half of legumes, a few spices and a pressure cooker is all you need to enter for the prizes listed down under.

Legume: For the purpose of this event, legumes include fresh or dried beans, lentils, pulses, and/or the sometimes edible pods that contain these seeds, and derivative products like tofu or besan (chickpea flour). According to Susan you can include recipes that use tamarind, fenugreek, carob, peanuts, etc. since they are among some of the other edible plants in the legume family and thus ARE included in the event.


Please note and this is important, a spoonful of legume in a recipe is not quite enough to qualify. If you send in a recipe that does not actually feature legumes, but reference them as an auxiliary ingredient, I will be forced to reject the entry. Remember, MLLA is all about the affair with the legume. It is only fair to your fellow participants that you respect the rules as well. So make sure your recipe includes a fair to liberal amount of legumes in it.


The rules are as follows:


1. All courses and cultures are welcome as well as non-vegetarian entries as long as they have a substantial amount of legumes.


2. Multiple recipes are permitted although only one submission will be counted towards the random drawings. Important note: Multiple recipes are limited to no more than 10. So, please do not send me all the collective legume recipes from your blog. I repeat, limit them to ten.


3. Recipes submitted to other events are also permitted.


4. Recipes from archives will be accepted ONLY if updated and reposted as current.


5. Don’t have a blog, no worries. You are still eligible to win a prize if you send an entry.


6. I do need to know the location of participants so I will know who qualifies to win both or one of the prizes. If you don’t want your location published, that’s ok. Just send it to me in an email so I can make sure you are eligible for the draw.


7. Use of the above logo is optional but Susan’s MLLA logos are so beautiful I cannot imagine why one wouldn’t want to add it to their post.


8. A photo with the entry is preferred, but not essential. Please do try to resize your photos to 200 by 300.


9. Make sure to link your post to this announcement as well as to this link to Susan’s host line-up.


10. The last date for sending your entry/ees is May 3. I will try to post the round-up by end of first week of May. Send your entree here or jayawagle@gmail.com.


For following all of the above rules, to the best of your abilities, here’s what you can win when selected by the random draw:

1) Winner chooses any cookbook or food-related book from Amazon U.S. valued at not more than 15USD for the book itself. This prize is offered by Susan at her expense and she will also absorb worldwide shipping charges. F.T.C. Notice: Susan does not receive any compensation from Amazon.


2) Hurst Bean Box - A case of six bags of the winner's choice of Hurst Bean products, suitable for every diet, sponsored by Hurst Bean. (Due to shipping restrictions, this prize can only be awarded if the winner is a U.S. resident.) F.T.C. Notice: In May 2010, Susan, at her request, received two Hurst Bean complimentary products which are not available for purchase in her local markets. Susan does not generally accept free products from Hurst Bean nor is she financially compensated by them.


3) Drawing Structure - If the winner is a U.S. resident, she/he will be the recipient of both Prizes 1 and 2 above. In the event that an international winner is drawn, a second drawing will be conducted from the U.S. pool of entrants to ensure that the Hurst Prize is awarded every month. In these instances, the international winner will receive the book, and the U.S. winner will receive the Hurst Prize.


As I finish this post and prepare to upload it, India has won the World Cup and I am exhausted from celebrating with friends all day long. We reached home dog tired a little before midnight and I decided to upload the post before hitting the bed. So I hope you will understand if there are any grammatical errors or typos.


Now, go ahead and start posting those entrees.

Another piece of fiction and a contest

Caution: The Following is a piece of fiction based on real events and real people, whose names have been changed for Chalks and Chopsticks, hosted by Bong Mom and started by Aqua. For the contest, go to the bottom of the post. For the first piece of fiction, click here.

Archana boarded the local bus and looked around for an empty seat. There was one in the middle, next to an old woman. She sat down and tried to relax. It had been another hectic day at the factory and the floor manager had made them work overtime to finish the order. Her palms had new calluses she rubbed on absent mindedly.

“Beti (daughter), are you ok?” the old woman next to her asked with concern in her voice and curiosity in her eyes.

“I am ok Maaji (mother),” she said with a quick smile. “Yes, I am ok now,” she thought.

“I asked because it is unusual to see calluses on a young girl like you,” the old lady said as she opened her palms wide to show her the bumps.

“I work in a packaging factory,” Archana replied. She did not talk to strangers anymore and was surprised at herself for doing so.

She had tried to live a quite life since that fateful day, hoping to blend in with the crowd, trying hard to not draw attention to herself. Being friendly with total strangers was what had got her in trouble. Her mother had always cautioned her not to trust people so easily.

“Archu, be careful in college. I can’t be there to protect you all the time,” her mother would admonish her every day.

“Yes Ma, I know. Boys are not to be trusted and men never,” she would repeat the litany and then get on her cycle and peddle away to college. She was ten when her father had died in a road accident. Her mother had been overprotective of her only child since then.

Archana knew her mother worried about her. It irritated her that she had to bring home her friends to meet Ma so she could approve of them. She was 19 years old. She knew how to take care of herself. But no, Ma had to be a part of every decision of her life, what clothes to wear, how to tie her hair, who her friends were.

Was that the reason she had not told her mother about Sameer? She had met him when she was standing by the side of the road with a flat tire, almost in tears.

“Do you need some help?” Sameer’s friendly voice had penetrated through the blur of tears.

“I have an exam in 20 minutes and I have a flat tire,” she said, barely managing to hold back her tears.

“Don’t worry. I know a place nearby that can fix your bicycle,” he had assured her. He guided her to the repair shop and then gave her a ride on his motorbike so she could reach in time for her exam.

They kept meeting for a few months after that. He would come to her college canteen and they would talk for hours over cups of ginger chai and samosas. Her friends had encouraged her to keep seeing him and even helped her go out on dates. She was surprised at how clever they were at covering for her.

“Don’t worry yaar, I will tell your mom you were with me,” her friend Anju would reassure her.

How she wished now they hadn’t. Not that it was their fault. She was enjoying the subterfuge with her mother. If she felt any guilt pangs, Sameer’s sweet gestures would wash them away.

When he had proposed Archana had been ecstatic. She had thought her mother would be happy for her and give her blessings. Instead, Ma was shocked.

“How long have you known each other?” she had asked in a steely voice.

“Six months, Ma,” she had answered meekly.

“Sameer, I am sure you are a very nice boy but till Archu completes her education, I can’t allow her to get married,” her mother had said in a voice that Archana knew was her final decision. There would be no further discussion.

“Aunty, my family is pressuring me to get married soon and I love your daughter. I will ask them to come formally as soon as you give your consent,” Sameer had pleaded.

“I have made my decision. If you love Archu and want to marry her, you will have to wait two more years till she graduates,” Ma had said.

Archana was so angry with her mother. She did not want to listen to reason. She can see now Ma had been right all along. Her mother had tried to raise her on her father’s meager pension. Ma had soon realized that without a proper education the only way for her to supplement their income was by cooking in other people’s homes.

Of quiet husbands and risotto surprises

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction (except for the recipe) and may or may not have some resemblence to persons living.

“You are going to be late for class,” he said as she dunked her toast and sipped her tea at a leisurely pace.

“Don’t worry, I have plenty of time. It takes 25 minutes to reach school, 35 max if there is traffic,” she replied in her nonchalant way.

He just shrugged and went back to reading his book. He knew it wouldn’t do any good to point out that the traffic increased at this time of the day.

She had always been like this, relaxed and completely out of sync with time; he sometimes wondered how she got anything done at all.

Earlier in their marriage, he used to get exasperated. “I am so glad you are not a doctor. Your patients would have died waiting for you on the operating table.” She would just laugh and walk away.

In time, he had learnt to relax around her laid back attitude but there were times when he still bristled when she went about her business as if time was infinite. Most of the time, he just shrugged and let go. It was easier that way, less stressful.

“Ok, I am ready. How do I look?” she asked with that twinkle in her eyes he had grown to love so much.

“Good,” he said. He wasn’t the loquacious one in this union. She pecked him on his cheek, got into the car and sped off.

“I hope she reaches school in time,” he muttered under his breath as he headed back into the house.

He was glad she was finally doing something with her life. The ten years they had been married he had stood by her as she squandered away her life on trivial pursuits instead of doing something productive with her talent.

“At least she woke up before she turned 50,” he thought as he went back to the book he was reading. He had picked it up at a garage sale for a dollar. It was called Risotto, Polenta and Pasta, a Taste of Italy.

He decided he would try his hand at making risotto. He knew she didn’t like him cooking without her present.

“You make too much mess and you are not very efficient with the chopping and the pots and pans. Let me help you,” she would insist.

He hated being told how to cook or her interfering “help”. He had his own ideas and even if he was wrong, he wanted to find it out for himself.

Today was the perfect chance. She won’t be back for another four hours. He can drive down to the grocery store for the supplies; cook to his heart’s content and even clean up the kitchen decently before she came home.

He set about in his meticulous way writing down the ingredients he needed for the risotto. The list was a big point of contention between the two. He believed in them, she didn’t. Today, he gets to do things his own way.