Hello another Sunday where I’m ready to pass out from eating a much too heavy breakfast in the morning, doing nothing in the afternoon, and then shamelessly passing out like I had initially planned. No wait. That’s not the shameless part. There is something worse than that. It takes me back to Goa when I lived with my parents, followed this Sunday routine except after I woke up, I expected more food.
Seriously, Indian children are so spoilt in the parents making them food department. No matter how old you get, your mother and in my case my father too, always want to feed you. So yes, blame them if you must. What horrible parents they are for wanting to feed 27-year-old children (Hi Jane. I meant you).
Gathering whatever was left of my will to survive, I climbed up the stairs from the lower part of my house and made my way into the kitchen. As soon as this happened, my mother would appear from nowhere as if she was standing behind me all along and say, “Hungry? Wait I have to make rice.” Oh okay mama, I’ll just pretend you said pulao and that my stomach is not ready to crush every ounce of my brain that’s telling me it’s stuff your face you lazy arse o’clock. The lazy arse being me, of course.
My mother, never disappointed. She’s the best rice-maker I know and to say I’ve learnt to make amazing pulao from her would be a big lie. I know nothing about the first of it and if I do, it’s purely by chance. From watching her I learnt to wash the rice (twice) thing, the one-cup-rice-two-cups-water thing, the simmer-boil-close-open-stir thing, and the drain-the-water-once-you’re-done thing. Sometimes I get all these “things” mixed up perfectly.
As for the pulao, I can make my mother proud. I don’t know how. I’ve never bothered learning about it as much as I worried about biting into a cardamom pod while eating.
The things that take you back home…
I miss your pulao, mother!
Super Sunday eggs + Resurrection rice cakes
Claire, I stole the rice cakes idea from you. That’s right. I took it. You were asleep and I said “To hell with her!” Don’t feel bad. If I can make the pain go away, I’ll say two things: I love the names “resurrection risotto cakes” and Donna Chinona. You inspire me to copy you. Feel better?
You’ll need one cup of leftover risotto or vegetable pulao, 2 eggs, 1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese, 1tbsp plus a little more buckwheat flour (can also substitute with all-purpose flower) and some salt and pepper to taste. For the side (if you prefer sides), you can use slices of tomato and salad greens drizzled with balsamic vinegar.
Take a cup of the pulao and mix it with an egg, buckwheat flour, Parmesan cheese and some pepper. Ideally you rice should already be salted because it’s made from leftovers but I don’t like to predict these things. If you need more salt, don’t let me stop you. You should be able to make about 3 small rice cakes or 2 big ones. The cakes should be easy to shape so if 1 tbsp buckwheat flour isn’t enough, add a teaspoon more and see if it does the trick.
Heat olive oil in a non-stick or stick frying pan and gently add the rice cakes to it. Like a sniper. Three to four minutes later, turn them over. They should be golden brown on the cooked side and easy to turn over as well. It’s easy when the bottom is cooked. These things are connected and written into the fibre of the universe. I might sound like I’m making it all up but I’m not. Repeat this on the other side and take it off the stove and place it on a paper towel or plate. Paper towel to soak the extra oil or plate because you used olive oil and your worries should have disappeared by now.
In the same pan, crack an egg and cook until the white is set. You can cook the egg as you choose, I’m not going to be an egg Nazi.
Decorate your plate with edible plant-based nourishment (tomatoes and salad greens) and breakfast is ready.
I’m going back to bed.
(PS: I will have a mother’s special vegetable pulao recipe up on here this week. It’s only fair)