Gasp! What? Why?

Don’t be so alarmed, Mi.

​So I just found a way to enjoy my morning coffee, twice. You know how we used to think that the subsequent cups never tasted like the first one? Haha. I’ve hacked that by splitting the first mega-tumbler into two parts. Then I have the first one after my prayer and the second around the time I pack the lunch boxes.

Hey but you would have to heat it up, you’re thinking, right? Wrong! I park it on the milk vessel and it stays hot enough to drink, Mi. Our very own primitive warmer!

You know, I am trying to find ways to make my diet interesting. Even though I am a saint with my love for salads, sometimes I do want something more as a snack. The poha-oats savory mix works well, but I wish for more variety. I was talking to T a couple of days ago and she gave me a recipe to make some easy stuff with ragi and jowar flour, since I have some and wasn’t sure of finishing them by just using them in porridge.

Jowar roti is a challenge to make, you know? We can’t roll it out with the rolling pin! The first time I tried it, I struggled a bit and managed to pat it in shape. Now I know better – and also garnish it with onions and coriander to make it taste better…as much as I like the bland taste.

Reminds me of one day, when we were kneading the dough for rotis and we had guests. I urged you to hang around with them while I finished making the rotis. As usual, you had insisted on the dough being a little loose, because that’s the way you like it. Anyway, I rolled out the rotis and heated the tava – and when it was ready, reached for the roti to cook it on the tava. Imagine my horror when I found that, after peeling the roti off the counter, to place it on the tava, it was still attached to the counter. I had one long roti in my hand thanks to the loose dough. Rather like Pinocchio’s nose. Once the shock wore off quickly, I started laughing hysterically and you rushed to the kitchen to see me holding one end of the roti en route to the tava and the other end still on the counter!

So funny! Then I simply gathered it and rolled it into a ball before rolling it out again, fortified by more flour and carried on making the rotis.

Every time I make rotis, which is at least 6 times a week, I can’t help thinking of this. And of course, the tears threaten to fall on the rotis. And mostly one or two succeed.