Posted on November 16, 2013
Sending some love, hugs and sugar cubes to sweetheart http://lillysuesbitesandbrews.com/ and darling http://fae-magazine.com/ for nominating me on Liebster Blog Award. Thank you and I accept the award with honor and pleasure. Rules: 1. Thank and link to the blogger who gave you the award. 2. Copy and paste the award in your post. 3. Pick 5 other blogs with less than 200 followers to award. Leave a comment on their blog to let them know about their nominations. My nominees:
Dedicating a bunch of sunshiny cookies and tea to darling Ada of http://morefoodpls.wordpress.com/, http://fae-magazine.com/ and amazing http://myeasychineserecipes.com/ for giving me Versatile blogger award. Thank you! Rules: 1. Display the Award Certificate on your blog. 2. Link back to the person who nominated you. 3. Present 15 awards to 15 deserving bloggers.
The prettiest Hibiscus from my garden goes to my sweetheart Angie of http://thenovicegardener.wordpress.com/ for nominating me on The Shine On Award. Thanks a million! Rules: 1. Visit and thank the blogger who nominated you. 2. Acknowledge that blogger on your blog, and link back. 3. Share seven random, interesting things about yourself. (I’m a good listener, I live outrageously simple, my husband is my best friend, love sightseeing, I don’t watch TV-movies, I try to stay away from worldly-material temptations, I smile a lot) 4. Nominate up to 15 bloggers for the ‘Shine On’ Award, provide a link to their blogs in your post, and notify them on their blogs. I nominate for both above Award:
– Thank you all, for being a source of beauty, creativity and positiveness ♥ Delighted to have you all in my life ♥
Wrinkled, crippled, thin and heavy with the burden of her loneliness, she remained afloat instead of sinking. But at a point, her old, feeble limbs and bones couldn’t hold her existence anymore; she tottered and fell. Norma, my neighbor, caught the smell of her own death but decided to live and built herself a herb-garden. The Phoenix was back on her wings again!
I could see through my widow her back-braking hard work in the heat and rain, turned the front yard, with peace hung heavy all over, into an oasis. She turned barren dirt, dust and black rocks into gold that sings soothing, somber hymn when the days grow dim. I love sucking up lungful of breaths of that growth, beauty and green.
Her garden is more like a shrine, glistening graceful halos, hosted by a merchant of happiness; like a dreamscape built of eternal sunshine, an ancient fantasy.
She helped me growing wild, purple Bean clusters, lush and brazen, smudging smoky-green hue on the fence with an ecstatic protectiveness.
She taught me how to fortify the fortress, my garden, with a never-ending infatuation.
The smell of wood smoke from her kitchen, warm and moist, has been sending the song through my chimney everyday which I have been trying to sing for years.
One sizzling summer high noon, when the sun climbed higher in the sultry sky, breathless, I stopped in her spotless home upon her invitation. Instantly I was draped by the twirling, swirling scent of deep, ancient, mythical Shrimp curry and steamed rice. The smack of aroma came through so vividly that my frigid soul came alive instantly.
Rooted in nature, it looked ordinary but went extraordinary as I took my first bite unleashing a universe of exuberant fragrance. Lovely austerity of the white-greenish curry levitated my heavy self immediately. Cheerful Shrimps were heightened with a touch of bare minimum spices. Half-melted onion sauce and fresh, smooth coconut paste were clinging to the shrimps with a penetrating soft sweetness.
The most beautiful ‘Tastemaker’ in the world with a spiral braid swinging at her back with Hibiscus tucked in, created hypnotizing alchemy in the pan. She made a meal that taste like a poem ♥
Recipe doesn’t belong to a labor-intensive or rule-braking repertoire. It is rather quite relaxed:
1 medium onion/shallot – paste
Garlic paste – 1 tbsp
Ginger paste – ½ tbsp
1-2 green chilies – paste
Salt to taste
Vegetable/olive oil 3 tbsp
Coconut milk – 1 cup
Shrimps 1 lb (10-12 large pieces, cleaned)
Saute first seven ingredients adding ½ cup warm water. Let it slowly evaporate until it had shrunk to a dense, caramelized gravy. about 10 minutes. Add shrimps and coconut milk. Cover. Cook for 7/8 minutes. Serve with rice.
Happy 98th Birthday, Norma, The Merchant of Happiness! Thank you for allowing me to touch the dreams everyday you have sown in your precious garden.
Posted on September 10, 2013
May you burn and rot in Hell-fire! May the Almighty hang you upside down and skin you alive in public!!
_ Here comes my muttered flurry of curse, with pain and disgust exploding in my heart, towards the young Arab guy every time he greeted me with his booming voice and crazy eyes. He was a total stranger I worked with at a security company as ‘student control room operator’. Night shifts. Just two of us. And he successfully made my life a living hell keeping my agony alive and well.
I have twenty million reasons to dislike this awkward slash highly unlikable guy. He sounds rude, looks rowdy, talks outrageously inappropriate in his random chit-chats. To fill in the impenetrable silence and emptiness between us, he would brag in detail about how thunderously ‘chicks/female species’ would succumb to his eccentric bohemian charm! (How utterly charming! How I wish to borrow Devil’s fork to poke this pathological flirt all over and watch his body twitch uncontrollably!)
He would sit with his chest puffed out, hair spiked bolt-upright in a despicable manner that screamed for attention! (But the narcissist buffoon was never able to make me swoon. Fiercely ‘modern’ guys like this specimen are so undatable, so-not-marriage-material, I tell you!)
Every morning before wrapping up, without offering him a single morsel, without acknowledging his presence, I would spread some devilishly tasty, lustrous Mango Chutney immaculately on a slice of bread. Sweet, a little tart, mildly spicy chutney would hit the right spots and I’d get lost into my wildest dreams, ultimate fantasy: in hell that fella is getting whipped hard by Arnold Schwarzenegger. And his evil tongue got twisted backward. And he got bitten by an Anaconda and declared spot dead by the reporting angels. ( How insanely nice would it be to watch his corpse half-buried upside down with his legs in the air!) .
I’m snapped back to present by the scoundrel’s nasty gurgly slurp of coffee followed by humongous burps! How I hate the fact that he exists but how I murderously adore my captivating craving for ‘Mango Chutney breakfast revenge’! .
His raven-black, voodoo presence chokes me, makes me feel like a dead wood drifting downstream. He is like a treacherous chunk of cloud curtaining my windows from letting in rays of the sun. I prayed hard for an exit as I’m caught in a spider web; stuck, froze-up in a dark, dingy dungeon; trapped in an unknown bottomless pit where there was no swimming forward or backward. I’m too much in love with this job to let it go just because of him. Was it worth shedding tears for countless hours over a guy who I hate to look in the eye? – Absolutely! A full year of soaking in his evil energies later, my prayers were heard and answered. We were informed that due to recent recession one of the student-operators will be laid-off and they will decide today who that would be. The infidel bum-hole Arab dude right away stepped aside and said, “I’m ready to resign”, sticking his pinky finger in a circular motion into his ear hole.
He left quietly. I was busy watching the snowflakes bouncing off the Eucalyptus leaves like popcorn. Let it snow.
That year the winter arrived with the harshest blizzards knocking off strong trunks of Maple and Mahoganies, burring Lilies and Lilac bushes deep into snowdrifts. The hit was hard to take. My devastated body collapsed due to extra workload all night long, rising pressure from classes and field works all day long, home works and researches all evening long. My heart and soul shuttled back and forth between life and death. Thankfully my Indonesian roommate was there to revive me. .
Spring came alive. Pastel gardens went crazy with flowers and butterflies in bursting color and hue. With smoke-like sweet scented mist hovering from the towering trees, my dreams kept growing. I got promoted at work. Found a better place to live in. In reply to my sincerest goodbye thanks, my roommate smiled, “Give thanks your jobless ex-colleague who brought you home cooked fresh food every single day including that massive Mango Chutney jar.”
Suddenly the sun turned lightless and grey again, blowing foggy wind chills frosting my soul, deadening and hushing my heartbeats. Brightly blazed Daffodils beneath the hills died out in a wink. I kept on dialing his number to thank him but that number, by then, was inactive, unreachable and as silent as a dead shore where water never meets the land.
3 tablespoons grated fresh ginger
1 clove garlic, minced
Pinch of cumin seeds
2 green chilies or 1 tbsp crush red chili flakes
4 mangoes, peeled, pitted, and chopped (4 cups)
1/3 cup sugar
2 teaspoons salt
1/2 cup white vinegar
1/3 cup water
2 tbsp Mustard oil/vegetable oil
Heat just a little trace of oil. Sauté first four ingredients until they release fragrance. Add mango chunks. Add vinegar and water. Over medium heat, cook them down to a smooth density. Cook about an hour.
To mediate the spice and hit, add sugar and salt towards the end.
What emerges is an eye-soothing glaring amber colored satiny, soulful substance with delightful tastes synchronizing in it.
Allow the chutney to cool. Store in glass jars in the refrigerator up to six months.
Serve this luxuriant chutney with bread, rice, baked/fried fish, meat, fritters; should you care to invoke pure splendor and bliss in your lungs and taste buds.
Mango chutney builds tastes that you would want to keep going back to as long as you can. It’s a ravenous relief from store-bought jam/jelly boredom.
– A total stranger who I had no strings attached with whatsoever, stepped into the quicksand so that I stay safe in the oasis. The beautiful stranger with beams of blue flickering through his eyes, chose to climb a nameless, starless, slippery staircase barefoot (as lovers often do) which leads nowhere leaving behind a lantern casting soft halos of light for me to ignite my hopes, to fix my life.
Ever since my ungrateful, ignorant, infidel, thankless, judgmental heart stopped breathing. How can I breathe knowing there’s a debt on my chest that is heavier than the Himalayas?
Posted on August 5, 2013
Free and fierce as a nomad on the Sahara. Careless like a yogi who has chosen exile in the Himalayas. Like a banned bandit wondering in the Andes. Vigorous as the swirling sun in a Van Gogh painting. – That’s how I feel when I cross the line and enter the sanctuary where the universe is regained and aligned, free from frail & feeble beings, where every particle preaches LOVE.
When outside burdened world gets too much to take, to take a break, I get back in touch with my sanctuary. Attacks withstood, storms endured knocked-off, pale, weary, fragile me celebrates the joy my heart yearns for; responds to the holiest, purest call what my soul has longed for, quenches the thirst that my throat has been carrying around for years.
My potential ‘boyfriend’ who I met online came to meet me all the way from America. On the first date I decided to take him out for breakfast- to my sanctuary- a destination unknown to him. Just to see what kind of a soul resides in his body.
As the first light of dawn turned the sky golden, we got on a local bus, took the highway to heaven, shared some chitchatting and laughter with some ‘never seen before’ passengers who always wear colorful clothing with dazzling clarity. For an hour or so, we rode past miles after miles of gorgeous greenery, vastness, huts with haystack roof, open air village markets, women walking carrying mud pitchers on the head filled with drinking water, fertility, healing and wisdom….
The driver dropped us off in the middle of nowhere. We were back to a world that was unchanged since the time of Christ.
Here the infinite sky rests its root in the river. The blazing sun kisses the knee-high rice saplings from up above. The air is dense with hoots and cheers and tweets of birds. Full-fledged larger-than-life trees cast lacy shadows on the silver waves of the river. Lazy, scented wind sifts through the wildflower bushes. Here human souls can see, hear, touch, feel the unchained melody coming from heaven beneath. (I saw the irises of his jet-lagged eyes widen).
We gazed down at the river bank. A Shabby, mud-built, humble hut on the horizon gazed up at us. This is a restaurant for small peasants, laborers and beggars to whom God cannot appear except in the form of bread and rice. I have been coming here, alone, to dine out for years now. The owner, the chef, standing strikingly strong and tall, like the timeless statue of Jesus Christ, invited us in. I have been watching him cooking and serving ‘love & life support’ for years now. (Cookery is an ancient, spiritually enriched, enchanting art indeed!)
He cooked us Potato Cakes. The smell of life hung everywhere. And my heart started throbbing!
Smoking hot & spicy potato cakes served on pearl white rice. Match made in heaven. So well-seasoned! Perfectly spiced! Memorably good taste & texture never weighs me down!
2 cups mashed potatoes
1/2 teaspoons salt
1 finely chopped green chili
1 medium onion, chopped
Handful of chopped fresh Mint
Few drops of lemon/lime juice
2 tablespoons mustard oil
1 egg – beaten
some bread crumbs for coating
Vegetable oil for frying
*Mix first 7 ingredients. Chill/refrigerate it overnight for the best results. Let the flavors mingle.
*Use your hands to form 1/2-inch thick patties. (Apply a little oil for smooth finishing)
*Dunk patties into egg and then roll them into bread crumbs. shake excess crumbs. Heat oil in a large nonstick skillet/pan over medium-high heat until almost smoking.
*Add the potato cakes to the pan and reduce the heat to medium-low.
*Cook until they have formed a golden crust, 15 to 20 minutes. Turn and cook the other side until golden brown, another 15 minutes.
*Serve hot with rice/salad/coleslaw/tea.
You can add any herb with Potato cakes. But Fresh Mint from my garden fills up my senses delightfully.Why Mint? – My peasant-chef prefers Mint over any other herbs when it comes to Potato cakes.
As the sunset painted the sky all over with intense ruby red hue, I saw tear drops falling from his deep soulful eyes. May be like me he has scars caused by agony, fire, fear of failure, greed, struggle, suffering, sickness. May be he too dies an unthinkable death once in a while. May be that humble restaurant with a simple meal recovered, refreshed and lifted up his spirits stimulating his appetite.
May be the departed part of his soul has been resurrected here. Right in front of that worn-out sanctuary – that Cathedral- that Temple, when he asked if I would be willing to sail away with him again, I replied, ‘YES’.
An unprepared fun, whimsical ride turned into a blissful adventure of a lifetime.
Posted on July 19, 2013
That eighteen hour long journey chocked me like death ! Billions of nightmarish thoughts have been creeping across my heart for the last eighteen hours ! Pursuing higher education in an alien country where I have NOBODY was an ignorant, douche-like decision. (didn’t listen to Mom as I was adult enough to make all the horrible decisions I want). Now my over-zealous self will have to deal with a smelly 60 year old sailor dude who I’m going to be homestaying with for the next six months.
Hungry, paranoid, horrified, terrified with aloneness I finally landed in Australia in a bone crushingly chilly, rainy morning. My host, 60, white, grey bearded gentleman with a pair of glittering, kind eyes winked at me, smiled, picked me up and drove me home. He smells like ocean.
Soon after parking the car, he asked me to water his backyard garden. “But it’s raining”, I frowned speculating more upcoming weird, untimely orders.- “Well, fetch an umbrella and water the garden!”- serene brutality of his voice lured me instantly.
There were these gorgeous cute little heart-shaped slightly prickly skinned fruits all over the garden smiling at me. Perfect smile. Love at first sight ! Cloudy grief that choked my mind went away when I started picking Strawberries.
A breakfast doesn’t get any healthier, prettier. Freshly picked Strawberries and scattered baby Spinach just plucked from the garden!
He takes every bite solemnly, mindfully. “Eating is like praying”, he would say, “When you eat, you don’t stuff your body, you cleanse it.”- I sensed, felt a beautiful, enigmatic, electric power running through my heart and soul. – “Did you know that you have a contagious smile?” – I joined the conversation which would continue for the next six months.
While taking a stroll around the house I quietly shed a few tears over my parents and friends who are now lightyears away. Moments later, my eyeballs popped out of sockets in disbelief when I found sun-kissed, gorgeous, vivacious, radiant, dazzling Dill blossoms at the front yard. I fell in love rightaway!
He served me sautéed shrimps for lunch. One bite and I immediately sensed that belongingness. Loneliness puffed away. Warm, perfectly tender, slightly sweet but spicy enough shrimps along with fresh veggies traveled down my throat. And a soul-deep joy swelled within my stomach.
Devein, clean, pat dry 1 lb jumbo shrimps (12-16 pcs). Marinate them for 1o minutes with pinch of salt+pepper+crush red pepper, dash of olive oil, splash of freshly squeezed lemon juice, 1/2 tsp freshly chopped Dill. (Parsley/Thyme can be used instead.) Saute them in high heat for 3 minutes each side. Serve with your choice of salad/vegetable/rice.
Effortlessly plain, unscrewed-up simplicity. ...
We took a walk on the shore. I saw him hugging the sea and feeling the sky and how he let his soul & spirit fly.
I locked my eyes in the setting crimson sun and sipped into Tomato soup. For the first time in my life. Never imagined good old tomato could make such a wonderfully comforting, creamy, nutritious rendition! A little hint of heat, some pleasant touch of garlic, olive oil and the bright red hue of the soup took my breath away! How I adore the picture of the sailor-man putting warmth, light, happiness, hope, love, sweetness, charm into the soup pot !
* Cook for 20 minutes 4 large fresh, ripe, red tomatoes (cut in chunks) along with 2 tbsp olive oil, 1 small onion, 2 cloves of garlic, salt (as required), 1 tsp crushed red chilli flakes. Towards the end add 1 tsp sugar, if you like it sweet.
* Now blend the mixture. Sprinkle some crouton on top for a little crunch. Or go for healthier choice: toasted sunflower seeds, toasted chick-peas.
He took care of me, fed me, and healed my daunted, haunted wounds on the very first day I set my lone-voyage. He was the one to keep my rocking boat steady on the troubled water. And it’s because of him I was drawn to a lifelong affair with fresh fruits, herbs and vegetables. Also, till today Arthur didn’t disclose my sweetest secret to anybody: how BIG of a crush I had on him from the moment our eyes met ♥
Posted on June 26, 2013
I have an ego the size of a dinosaur! And whenever my humongous egotistic self gets badly bruised, I would immediately dash off to my next door neighbor Sheila Brown, 70, a retired school teacher – the sweetest, loveliest, kindest soul ever. She always helps me crossing the stepping stones. She seems to know how to heal my injured ego when I’m pissed-off, ticked off. She knows how to wake me up when I sleep walk.
She would always listen to every single sinister revenge ideas that pop, hop and knock in my head ! She would nod her head in approval on my despicable plan about how to successfully gut my hater like a fish ! Or how to poke in the eye of that specimen from a remote distance! She would smile when I describe her how to bury all the evidence after killing the rascal ! She would laugh her lungs out when I’d proclaim, “Farewell to kindness and humanity!”
“Step back- breathe a few deep breaths- reconnected to what has real value in life- and focus on something ‘worth obsessing over’ with a clear mind” – She would wink, “A Red Snapper sounds fun?” 🙂
Then she would forcefully make herself comfortable in my garden where I’ve sown and grown some magic, marvels, miracles with all my heart & soul.
She would ask me to feel the sunlight twinkling through the flowers.
“Gardening is a stress-buster, therapeutic tool which generates positive energies in your soul. And it helps you forget the grudges that have consumed your heart”, her soft voice flew away in the wind caressing those petals.
“Take a deep look at those softness, uplifting vivaciousness, the innocence. Aren’t you inspired now to release all your anger?” – she would put her kind hand on my shoulder.
This woman totally has the ability to full-on blow my goddamn mind!
Then she would grill the fish. She knows I’m deeply, madly, truly in love with grilled Red Snapper! I adore biting in the chunks of garlicy ultra soft meat, salted crispy crimson skin, herb flavored moist flesh separating into flakes! I fancy digging around gooey custardy brain, tearing apart the head with my fingers !
She would use waaaaaaaaaaaaay too much fresh herbs which will make the grilling extra special.
1/2 cup olive oil
3 tablespoons chopped fresh Mint/Parsley/Thyme leaves
3 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1 garlic clove, minced
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 local whole fish (gutted and scaled. Washed. Pat dried). ‘Red Snapper’ worked for me very well.
Whisk first five ingredients in a bowl. Let the flavors of the herbs marry, lemon juices and pepper mingle, the garlic flakes dissolve into the oil. Brush and rub the mix generously all over the skin and cavity.
Place slices of lemon and some herbs inside the cavity.
Prepare the grill (medium-high heat).
Grill the fish until just cooked through, about 6 minutes per side (depending on thickness and size of fish)
With every bite, when the flavor infused flakes melt away in my tongue, my palate thanks her. With every chance she gets, she would show me that good food and good company make life intensely splendid.
Before leaving Shiela would hug me tight saying, ” Move on. Forgive. Let go of the resentment. And concentrate on more important things in your life, like grilling fish. Thou shall not take revenge, for it is the most unproductive of all human activities. ” 🙂
Posted on May 22, 2013
Grandma is getting old. I have lost touch with almost all of my cousins. My lost-soul-swimming-in-a-fish-bowl kept on adding bricks to the walls of my own cage. Sounds stupid but yes, I cry over, mourn over those long lost hang-outs and hullabaloos and soul-food at Grandma’s shrine.
‘The Living Legend’, my grandma, loves to feed us to death (out of love) in every single winter holiday bash at her place. The entire herd of us cousins (that would be 26 in number) would follow her throughout the week, as if, she is the pied piper of Hameln. Such is her mesmerizingly powerful presence. Such is the soul-soaring taste of her home-cooked food. Especially the creamy-pillowy-lovely-light Shrimp Malaikary shall live forever as a ‘Hall of Fame’ in our family 🙂
THE ‘Heartthrob’ of the party: Shrimp Malaikary. So real ! so rural ! So refined! So unpretentious ! Uncomplicated ! Look how creamy coconut, tangy lime and earthy spices doing waltz with those Shrimps !
When the sun sets its last ruby-red hue on the talc-white flock of clouds in the azure December sky, she would tell some ‘so old yet so new’ fairy tales. We would sit in a circle on the well-worn concrete floor underneath those larger-than-life emerald brunches of her ancient mango orchard. She would ask us about our love life and the recent blunders we made at work. She would share her concern about technologically advanced but loveless, robotic outside world. When the soundtrack (chirping and tweeting of birds) fades away, a pale moon rises across the sky, she would serve dinner.
For every well-known dish in our region, my Grandma has her own rock ‘n roll, divine version which is ruled by magic 🙂 Creating a flavorful bomb-dish by using minimum spices is an art that requires precision and skill (which I don’t have like my Grandma) and I guess, it would take me a light year to replicate her flavorful, tasty as well as visually appealing Shrimp Malaikary. Keeping in mind that it is humanly impossible to give it the exact same luscious texture, exact same not-scary-hot heat, exact same intense aroma, I give it a try pretty often.
Large prawns/shrimps 1lb (15-20 pieces)
Onion paste: 2tbsp
Garlic paste: 2 tsp
Ginger paste: 1 tbsp
Turmeric powder: ¼ tsp
Red chili paste: ½ tsp (use paprika, if chili doesn’t work for you)
Coconut milk: 1 cup
Lime/lemon juice: 2 tbsp
Oil/Ghee (clarified butter): 1 tsp
Salt and sugar to taste
Parsley for garnishing
1. Wash, clean, peel and devein the prawns. Pat dry. Sprinkle a little salt and turmeric powder on prawns. In a pan, in hot oil add the prawns. Fry for 2-3min on high heat until they turn red. Keep them aside.
2. In the same pan add more oil. Pour the paste. Cook for 7 minutes in high heat, then add coconut milk.
4. As the gravy boils, add the fried prawns. Cover and cook on low-medium flame for 3-4min. Add salt and sugar. Sprinkle parsley.
5. Serve with rice.
There’s something seductive, sensual about this slightly red, pleasantly hot Shrimp curry. An incredible mixture of subtle taste and majestic appearance. Un-overpowering but powerful and grand enough to win your heart; just like Grandma’s love. A delightful string to be attached with for the rest of your life ♥
Posted on May 14, 2013
There were quite a few of them including my worthless self in my hit list. I wanted to shoot them all point blank to death. Bang! Bang! Bang!
I tried so hard to protect myself from being constantly harassed at workplace. Authorities didn’t wanna make it too big of a deal. (Misdemeanors at workplace go unnoticed and unpunished in some male chauvinist parts of the world. ‘Code of conduct’ gets screwed pretty often. Hard stuff to swallow but no big deal.) Finally I quit my dream job. What else was I supposed to do? Kill ’em all?!
Sick ‘n tired, frustrated, freaked-out, pissed, heartbroken, I locked myself in my room. And started yelling at the walls, throwing stuff in all six directions ( to regain my self-worth. To restore my confidence, I think.)
My Mom-in-law kept on knocking on my door diligently every ten fifteen minutes. “Leave me the hell alone! Can’t I vandalize my own property in my own territory in peace?! I am free to kill myself at any rate I choose!” – I screamed in my head. I ignored her and continued to mind my own business.
She continued to whine and knock for six hours straight. I opened the door to tell her to the face, “STOP driving me crazy!” – Her 75 years old, skinny, bony, worried sick fingers were holding a plate full of rice and some fish curry. She – calm, collective and poised as ever- said,”Have some food and make my day”.
How did she sense that I needed a friend right then, right there to fill in my emptiness? How did she figure my stone-cold soul, my shattered heart, my starving stomach needed some warm fish and rice?
I haven’t got to see my Mom-in-law for the last five years. But Every time I cook curried fish, I think of that disastrous day. I think of her delightfully stubborn presence and the way she saved my soul. That simple food she made for me puffed away my depression and boosted my self-esteem right away 🙂
Tomato 1, medium
Onion 1, small sized
Garlic 4 cloves
Chili flakes 2 pinches
Olive oil 4 tbsp
Salt to taste
Dill, a handful
Fish 1 lb ( Salmon did great for me but you’re welcome to pick your choice of fish)
Pat dry washed fish
Make a smooth paste out of first four ingredients
Heat oil in a pan. Saute the paste in medium heat for about ten minutes. Add 1/4 cup water. Let it simmer for 5 minutes.
Add fish flakes/stakes in the pan. Coat well with the mixture. Cook for 10 minutes in high heat with the lid on.
Sprinkle chopped herbs. Serve hot with steamed rice.
Now I know, if you are blessed with good friends, you are all set. You are good to go to deal with life; as stress and depression can not exist in friends’ presence. .