Broccoli-Alur chop - Orebaba

Just the title itself is enough reason for Bengalis all over to world to come together, sign a petition and declare me  "anti-Bengali".

No matter what I write on my Hijibiji Blog, I will not be able to make them smile again. Ever.

I may be demolished from a few social media groups.

I can be taken off the friend's lists.

I can be...........

The verdict can be anything.

....  Broccoli in The Alur chop?  

"Ha Bhogoban, e din dekhar aage tumi amake tule nile na keno?" [Bengali movie style]

We, Bengalis,  are very sensitive , especially about the things which pass through our taste buds into our stomach. 

Usually, we do not tolerate any experiments there.

...Broccoli Alu-r chop??

A crime. 

Period.

However, in my defence, I need to give you the facts, Your Honour.

The menu on the table was NOT Broccoli Alu-r chop! 

It was not planned. 

The menu on the table was steamed carrots and broccoli drizzled generously with garlic olive oil and chilli flakes, grilled crisp zuccinis and roasted chicken. 

.......What happened next at the dinner table yesterday gave rise to the unprecedented recipe today.......

Pleading innocent, Your Honour!

As the carrots and the zuccini and the chicken gradually vanished from the plates, I could already notice a surplus of brocccolis.

No doubt, it was delicious but it was a lot.

We had all eaten a good share. But I was not very keen to put the remaining in the fridge ( a. extra work which I hate b. who do you think will eat leftover steamed broccoli the next day?)

I wanted to push them into the stomachs and succeeded in making two more florets vanish.

..but then A junior put his foot down.

"Ma, please aar Broccoli dio na. I already ate a lot and cannot have any more"

A-senior had the same pleading look in his eyes.

However (pause), he went on to say........"I cannot have a single piece anymore of these steamed broccolis".

Thats it!

That was the point when in my head I started planning the future of these iron-filled green flowers of hope and health!

Fast forward next evening.

Something fried and hot was served....totally unplanned. Brought few smiles....

"Bah besh bhalo hoyeche khete..."  {Good taste !}

"Ma, bhalo laglo khete, arekta debe?"   {Good taste Mom, can I have one more?}

.......and with that the broccolis from last night winked at me happily, passed through the taste buds with flying colours and made their way towards the stomach.

I clenched my fists and did a "YES!!".

[Of course I shared my recipe with A-Senior and Junior!! 😁, after the plates were empty]

I have said enough and will not risk talking explicitly about the "recipe"anymore.

But in short, (whispering) , if you have Broccoli left overs...

Mash the steamed florets with boiled potatoes, add 1 tsp of grated ginger, 1 tsp chopped green chillies, 1 tsp of chopped green coriander and salt.

Make small flat ovals, dip it in a besan batter and fry.

Taste was really nice, Your Honour!

Quick, finish it up before the Bengali community gets to know about it...........

The verdict can be anything.

Lockdown Haircut and Daal-delicacy

Never ever did I imagine that one of my blog titles will have 'lockdown' in it.

Our lives have changed over the last few weeks.

Staying home is saving lives.

Virtual is the new real.

Looking inward is the way forward.

Simplicity has been reinstated.

The Gift of Life is being appreciated again...................

When I started this blog, it was meant to be a diary of A-junior growing up. Small funny interesting anecdotes combined with the cooking and the cameras. But as he grew up, the anecdotes became less cute (;-) and discussing those publicly became a no-no! 

Today's situation is an exception. Totally unprecedented and unexpected. 

So the rules are a bit relaxed.

My hopes with the blog is that one day A-junior will be reading it with his family...and the anecdote will bring a smile to his lips.

After 2 weeks of lockdown when the hair started to cross the ears, the men in the family started to lose their cool and the locked-down-family equilibrium felt at risk.

Both men love their hair short. 

A-Junior has just started to like it bit longer at the top but still wants the sides cropped short.

A-Senior has lost most of it. Still.........

Hair cut is a necessity and part of "essential services' at our place.

So the situation was not very pleasant. The fact that the hair was really growing fast and making life difficult was mentioned multiple times a day. Mood swings became directly proportional to the hair length and had nothing to do with the teenage (or mid life) hormones. 

At some point, A-junior could not take it any longer and wanted to buy a hair-cut-kit. A-senior supported the idea with a lot of enthusiasm.

The kit was ordered online and was delivered at the door step.

So far so good, everything was ok, and then........

I was asked to inaugurate the machine. 

On my son's head! My one and only son,  and his one and only head!

...and I did.

Technically, these machines (am sure many of you use them as well) are quite easy to handle. They have settings on the machine which allows you to cut the hair exactly at a certain length, I have seen it used by the hair dresser ten thousand times.

Looked very simple...just like a lawn mower.......zzrrrrrrrrr....and done.

[A-junior set the mark on the machine and handed it to me].

However, in this case by the time I got the 'feel' of the zzrrrrrrrrr....the damage was already done.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, there was this big patch of 'nothingness' above the left ear of my son. I immediately realized he had set it at the shortest length and I had used my biceps a little bit more than required. I panicked.

To match the left side, I tried to use the same muscles on the right but nervousness gripped me. (what kind of a mother am I to have caused such damage?). The right side 'nothingness' did not finally match the left side 'nothingness'. I tried to play a bit with the settings and left the top patch quite long, to compensate for the blunders at the sides. 

The head looked like parched land in summer with the mirage of a few oasis here and there.

I also said sorry 50 times ( it was so bad!!).

He was cool and said, "no problem Mom, who cares? we are in lockdown" and with that put on a cap.

After the incident, A-senior's enthusiasm and urgency to get his hair cut suddenly vanished....

He even avoided eye contact for 2 days till he could not bear his long hair anymore.

So today, I did it again.......the result is not very bad. 

It is still parched land but without oasis here and there.

After all, practice makes a (wo)man perfect!

;-)

Corona is making us do strange things.

The two major takeaways for me from this lockdown is Simplicity and Humility.

Whatever we are, Wherever we are, Whoever we are.....

Stay simple, stay humble.

Under the lockdown situation our diet has become simpler. The supermarket visits are  few and we do not hoard a lot of stuff.

One of the most simple (yet diverse) items in our cuisine is Daal.

It is a comfort food for me and  takes very little time to cook.

A few variations can change the taste totally, making each recipe very unique and very tasty.

Let me share a daal  from my kitchen today.

Daal Delicacy-1.: Daal-e-rang-bahar

Cooked with tomatoes and spinach, this moong daal is rich in colour, taste and nutrition.

Ready steady cook:

Dry roast the moong daal till it turns golden brown in colour. Wash and boil together with one large tomato and fresh spinach. Add salt, turmeric and 1/2 tsp sugar.

In a heavy bottom pan, heat ghee. Add a tbsp of whole cumin, 1 bayleaf, 1 dry red chilli, and 1 tbsp of grated ginger.

Fry for a minute and then add the boiled daal.

Have with white rice.

Simple.

'Long time, no see' with Lau Chingri

I have to admit that I have not posted anything on Gift of Life for a very long time.
Too many initiatives, too many responsibilities, too many interests, painful knee, full time job, teenage son, the 24-hr ridiculously short days .......

Excuses! I know!

Meanwhile, I did cook a lot. 
Really. Took photos as well.
A-junior (who is in his teens now and not the subject of this blog anymore) also said and did few things worth posting but ....
A-senior continues to be his 'cool' self , thereby adding more topics for my blogs but.....

Ok, I see it in your eyes.
I admit, I have ignored the "Gift of Life" for a while. 
The Corona made me reflect.💓
The 'Gift of Life" must be appreciated every moment.

Eating healthy home cooked food had always been in the family. More so because both of us love to cook.
But with time (some of you will naughtily call it AGE :-)), I realized that my cooking habits are becoming more and more traditional. My taste buds are craving for simple tastes that I grew up with.
Flavours from my Mom's kitchen.
She was never fond of cooking when we were growing up. It was mostly very simple food which was cooked in very very short time. Her interest was more in housekeeping. The sofa needed to be spotless, the curtains absolutely matched and hanging straight and smart, not a speck of dust on the windowsill.....and all that required time which she saved from her cooking agenda.
My father left for work at 7:15 AM . He carried his lunch from home.
Hence her 3-4 course lunch menu was cooked and ready before 7:10 AM.
Daal, Bhaat, Bhaja, Macher jhol and Chatni.....
No recipe books, no measuring spoons, no non-stick frying pans.....
Simple tastes. Simple flavours. Healthy.

My love for cooking came much later in life. 
Hostel life taught me egg-curry. 😊 We made different types of egg curries, creativity at the best. When "M" cooked hers, it was so good, that the rest of us opted for washing utensils.
The cook in me was born.
We also learnt to appreciate whatever was on our plates. 
At home, plates were wiped clean due to fear (you have not see my mom's eyes 😀).
Hostel life taught me to be thankful for food on my plate. Any food. Especially the effort that goes in to prepare and serve. 
Taught me to appreciate what my mom cooked and served everyday.

My REAL cooking began only when I started living alone in Japan and very soon realized that instant noodles is not healthy and is actually very boring. Eating out in Japan, for a student on scholarship was also not exactly doable. I was also highly encouraged by the international hostel kitchen where we prepared and exhibited food from our own countries. Indian food was super hit....anything yellow and faintly smelling of garam masala was appreciated to the moon and back.
The cook in me was encouraged.
Then A-senior came into life,  a foodie who also loves to cook .
...after that there was no looking back. (for the weighing machine, I mean!!)
The cook in me was established.

Crazy situation!
As the Corona globally dances around scaring everyone with its novelty, we are stuck at home with our hand sanitizers and whatsapp messages. 
Take care friends. Be aware, be careful, be and keep safe.
I pick up my  "Gift of Life"
Keeping clean, Not panicking, Increasing social distance ---the three weapons we have to fight the virus.

.....and of course there is Lau-Chingri.

Ingredients:

• Prawns (for me they are the other name of Nirvana, so I was generous)
• Gourd (cut into thin slices)
• 2 Bay leaves 
• 1 tsp whole cumin
• 1 stick of cinnamon and 2 pods of cardamom
• 1 tsp cumin powder
• 1 tsp coriander powder
• 1 tbsp chopped green chilli
• 1 tbsp grated ginger
• 1/2 cup chopped tomatoes
• Mustard oil to cook
• 1 tsp ghee (optional)
• 1/2 tsp sugar

Ready steady cook:

Heat the mustard oil and fry the prawns (marinated for 10 mins with salt and turmeric) till they turn orange. Keep aside.

In the same oil add a spoon of ghee, add the cinnamon, cardamom, cumin seeds and the chopped chillies. 

As it sizzles, add the gourd and the chopped tomatoes, Then add salt , sugar, cumin powder, coriander powder and turmeric. 

Usually gourd releases a lot of water. Let it cook (covered) in its own water till it becomes soft.

Next add the prawns, cover and cook for a few more minutes on low heat.

Garnishing with chopped coriander is an option.

Your dinner on your plate is a Gift of Life.

Blast from the past :Japan 2019

It felt like I had never left.
The looks, the smell, the feel.......exactly same as 18 years ago!

The immigration officer at Kansai airport, turned the pages of my passport and asked, "what is the reason of your visit?"
"I am here to visit my University professor and friends." I replied back in English.
He nodded his head.
On second thoughts, I hesitantly added,
Watashi Kobe Daigaku de benkyoshimashita". [I studied in Kobe University]

He gave me a big smile and immediately switched to Japanese. Full speed.
I felt nervous, have not spoken the language for 18 long years.
I almost panicked, trying to frame another full sentence in Japanese inside my head.

..and then it happened! It was as if a switch was turned on!

A steady flow of Japanese words started coming out of my mouth. The way the officer nodded and continued talking, they must have made sense too.....
O my God, I can talk!! I mean I can talk in Japanese!
I silently thanked that part of my brain which had carefully preserved the language in some corner.
I talked a lot.
..Ended up giving away a lot of unnecessary extra information to the officer, just out of sheer happiness of being able to speak Japanese again....

The objective of the trip was to "Relive my memories".
There was a certain 'calling' which I was feeling for the past few months. A-senior gave me the final push to 'make it happen'. So off I went to the land of the rising sun......where I had spent 5 years, a long long time ago.

Loved every moment of my 'memory-trip' week ....it was magical.
Excitement, happiness, nostalgia, ...and much more.

I came back, happy and satisfied, with one big realisation.

"Relations have magic in them".

My 'memory trip' was magical not because of the places I visited but because of the people I met, with whom I had created a bond 'then' and reconnected 'now'. 
Where did the years vanish? 
Some bonds are forever!

I dedicate this blog post to all those people who made my stay in Japan memorable all those years ago and who have not changed a bit, till today!
( I met some of them this time....)

1996: First trip outside India...alone. First day, I had entered Kobe University with  a lot of homesickness and nervousness....met Morii Sensei and my group mates.
Time passed. The bond became stronger and stronger.
2001: I was in tears at the airport bidding farewell to the same group.
2019: Felt like home-coming!! Starting from Morii Sensei's warm greeting, Ohkuma's laughter, Satoshi's shy smile, Mawatari's caring atitude, Shiotani's humorous talk,the phone chat with Sudou, Kasahara san's loving hug, Morii-san's motherly cooking...the lunch at the university canteen, my presentation in the department meeting room, the evening beer with all...
......the 18 years in between just vanished.
The university gave me a degree on paper. It gave me much more in my life....

1997: I was introduced to a Japanese 'host' family from the International students department. The objective was to help me integrate into the lifestyle of Japan. I was asked to address them as Otosan (Papa) and Okasan (Mama). It started with a few social-cultural interactions with the family.
Time passed. The bond became stronger and stronger.
2001: I was in tears at the airport bidding farewell to my tearful Japanese parents.
2019: Felt like the daughter was back home. My parents rejoiced. We travelled together, ate, chatted, shopped and had fun..the Japanese parents with their Indian daughter.
Otosan and Okasan are indeed my Papa and Mama in every sense of those words....

1998: Someone at the university mentioned that an Indian family was in town. I got introduced to S'da and family. (During those student days, getting introduced to a family meant good food ;-))On the first meeting itself, they 'adopted' me as their daughter into the family. Over the days, months, years that followed,  they proved that some relations are just special.
2001: I was in tears at the airport bidding farewell to my Indian family in Japan.
2019: The daughter was back. Love and attention was showered on me. They know what I love to eat, what I love to do, what I love to say...they just know me.
S'da and Bouma are not just an Indian family. They are MY family.
Met another Indian family, A'da and boudi. I immediately became their younger sister. Their tiny son P-chan became so attached to me that he even refused to go back home with his parents after one of their visits. I can still remember the scene vividly--a crying P-chan at Motomachi station, baffled parents trying to persuade the crying P-chan and a helpless, sad me bidding goodbye.
2019: Knocked on their door, gave them a surprise. In return, I was super surprised with P-chan all grown up and handsome and working and ......so shy when the station incident was mentioned.
Some bonds are made forever....

1998: Met M as a fellow international student. Clicked immediately. Clearly remember, one time when her mother was visiting from Iran, she asked me if she can tie up my unruly hair. When I said yes, she lovingly plaited my hair and all the while kept on talking to me (in Persian, which I do not understand ).  I could clearly hear my mom talking.."how many times have I asked you to oil your hair properly and not keep it like this, etc etc?" Mothers are mothers everywhere in the world.
2019: Even though social media kept us connected, it was pure coincidence that M was around during my visit. We picked up exactly where we had left..The same giggles, visiting the same places, opening up our hearts and much more...
Friendship has no boundaries and no expiry date.

There is so much more to write.....the food, the flowers, the people, the trains, the language, the weather, the temples, the........

Love you Japan!
Sayonara..till the next time.

Colourful Croatia....

At every step, I remembered last year's World Cup....

Not that I am a football fan (can only understand a goal and have no clue what an offside is!), but it put the country on my radar for sure.
The way the team played......the people cheered....the smart President stood beside her team and congratulated them....
Impressive!

Croatia : A colourful country with lovely people, a perfect holiday destination.

Travel is all about extending the boundaries.

Of our minds.

A long drive through three countries (Germany, Austria, Slovenia) took us to Croatia from The Netherlands. Even though, not an ideal winter destination to enjoy the beautiful beaches along the Adriatic coast, we did get very nice sunny cold weather most of the time. Our first stop in Croatia was Kastela (near Split, Trogir, Sibenik). We stayed there for 3 days and moved on to the beautiful city of Dubrovnik, stayed for a day and came back north to Karlovac (to visit the national parks Plitvice). Then we moved to the capital city of Zagreb, spent a day there and finally came back to The Netherlands from there.

What a beautiful country it is! Nature at its best!!
Apart from nature, the thing that needs to be appreciated is the quality of the roads. An extensive, well-maintained road network is something Croatia should be proud of. Not only the highways, even the 'nature' routes were a pleasure to travel on. Smooth and spotless--touching all the beautiful tourist spots that you want to go to....a treat to travel on the roads of Croatia.

Cities like Split, Trogir or Sibenik -- world heritage sites, so beautiful that they felt like a canvas.

Dubrovnik was straight out of a James Bond movie. The highwalls, the cobbled stoned streets, the perfectly orange thatched rooftops...I could visualize HIM coming out of the alleys on his bike, with 'Anasthasia' behind him. Anytime........

Plitvice park and its surroundings were magical. Even on a partly cloudy day, the blues and the greens of the water were mesmerizing. The camera never stopped clicking but what the eyes and the brain captured are really beyond my vocabulary.

The capital city of Zagreb had a fairy-tale Christmas market. The sub-zero temperatures were nullified by the spicy sausages and the warm glue-wine on the streets. The decoration was magical with music, family chatter and warm hugs. 

Everyday was a treat to the eyes and the heart. 

Beautiful places to see, delicious food to eat, wonderful friends to travel with, warm houses to come back to at night, chill or debate (depending on the number of glasses :-)) on topics like 'Karma', 'parenting', 'energy transition'........

Beautiful things make me philosophical nowadays (nothing to do with age!!)

So I let my mind , camera and my pen free........

Sail beyond the horizon, fly beyond the stars....
--but stay connected to the shore. Always.

Split

Take a break from the 'rat-race'. Stretch, laze and yawn from time to time. 
Spend time with friends. Enjoy the sun.

Kastela

Reflections are only "crooked" if your mirror is shaky with ripples. Use a simple honest one.

Trogir

The journey goes very fast. Pause for a while.....appreciate it.

Kastela

Some colours have no explanations. His palette, his creation, his mood.........

Plitvice

Dubrovnik

The world is a window. Look outside. It is full of colours, full of hope and full of happiness.

I stand and watch the same sun rise and set everyday. Yet each day is unique, each day is special, each day is a gift of life.

Dubrovnik

   There will always be someone(thing) to guide you on your way.....Have faith.

way to Karlovac

Plitvice

The tunnel is very important. It teaches us to appreciate the light at the end of it.

             Reflections are a necessity on the way.
              Reflect. The journey gets better.

Plitvice

 Think. Think. Think.  Natural intelligence(NI) is real.

Zagreb

Use your taste buds. They contribute a lot to "happiness".

Zagreb

Overall a beautiful experience.
Recommended.

Food, Friends, Family, Festivals....... and Flan

Do not underestimate the power of the 'F' words!

😍

They rock!

Durga Puja was celebrated here in The Netherlands. 

(I know, I am writing after a long time)

We put in immense effort to organize it all, created a piece of India here, re-created our childhood memories and basked in nostalgia.

The weeks before the event went in a frenzy, with things to be done, calls to be made, meetings to be arranged. The week itself went in a frenzy too.....satisfied, happy, content and excited with friends. The week after made me feel ..hmm...what a lovely event it was.

Then it was Diwali. I spent it at home with family and lights.

Now it is time for Sinterklas, Thanksgiving, Christmas ...the festive season continues......

As the days become dull and the mercury levels drop, the two things that help me to survive are the festival lights and the baking aroma from the neighbour's kitchen.
(Sometimes from my kitchen too).
The mood (even at work, on Mondays) is festive with a positive feel everywhere. 

(We will keep the boss and the end year appraisal out of this discussion) ;-)

There is indeed a 'Thanksgiving' mood everywhere. 

We are thankful for everything that we have. Life itself has taught us to be thankful.
The Gift of Life.

One of the many things that make this festive season so special is food. 

After a week of delicious Indian Bengali food during the Pujas, the food at the office canteen was no less than a culture-shock! My taste buds freaked out once again!

Why cant they serve hot spicy fish fry at lunch?

I know. I know. (still, dil mange more!)

Food is not a hobby in my family. 
It is passion, it is bonding, it is a 24x7 thought process.

Cooking is not an everyday chore but a celebration by itself.

(I do not discuss this with my dietitian or my gym-instructor, and I do not have either) 

So when my next door Dutch neighbour goes out for a jog because the sun is shining, I look at her from my kitchen window with appreciation and plan to make "Lobongolotika*".

No kidding. 

Different people have energy for different things. That is what makes the Earth such an interesting place to live in.

How boring would it have been if all of us went for a jog just because the sun was shining?

(Impressive! that is one of the most convincing anti-jogging excuses I have come up with in recent times)

The other good thing about the festive season is that it comes 'guilt-free'. 

When happy people talk about food during this season, somehow the topic of calories do not ruin the conversation. Even if they do, they are treated as cute kids whose naughtiness can be ignored for the moment. They are not discussed as scary monsters that take over your life and never leave you.

Take a deep breath. I did make Lobongolotika that day (will share the recipe later).

Today I made a FLAN.  (Baked Caramel Pudding)
Right! just to match the F-words in the title of my post.
The recipe is adapted from BongMoms cookbook.
Every time I make it, it turns out to be delicious and I thank BongMom from the bottom of my stomach.

Ingredients:

• 3 Eggs
• 1 can of condensed milk
• 2 cans of  full milk  (use the empty condensed milk can to measure)
• 1 tbsp Orange zest (Fresh zest adds a LOT of flavour)
• 1 tsp vanilla essence 
• 1 cup Sugar

Ready steady cook:

In a bowl, whisk together the eggs, condensed milk and full milk.

Add the orange zest and the vanilla essence.

In a separate heavy bottom pan, add a cup of sugar and 1/2 cup water. Let it come to boil at high heat. It will caramelize and turn brown. Keep swirling the mix till it turns dark brown and you can smell the caramelised sugar. Keep swirling the pan continuously so that it is not burnt. 

Pour it into an oven proof bowl. Swirl the bowl immediately so that the caramel coats the bottom of the bowl uniformly. 
It solidifies very fast...so be faster.

Let it cool. Pour the egg and milk mix into the bowl.

Preheat the oven to 180 deg C.

Bake the mix in a water bath for 65-70 mins. Let it cool down to room temperature and then put in the refrigerator to cool for 5-6 hrs.

Take out. Cover the bowl with a flat serving plate and with one quick jerky move, turn the pudding bowl upside down. The caramel pudding (with the brown caramel on top) easily slides on to the plate.

*Lobongolotika is a famous sweet from Bengal, India

Value of a Vegetable

Price and Value are two very different things. This realization becomes stronger with each passing year.

(No, this post will not talk about age, in general, but it will talk about the side effects. Side effects which are not related to your knee or back or glasses. 😄) 

Birthdays come and go. Elections come and go. World Cups also come and go.

But the steady flow of wisdom with each passing day  thankfully stays, in most cases. Life opens up new experiences but at the same time also helps me to appreciate the 'older' ones better. 

I understand the difference between 'price' and 'value' more and more.

For example, many years back when my mom made "Alu-Potoler torkari" (Potato-Pointed-Gourd curry),  I used to make a not-so-happy face.  I liked the vegetable (pointed gourd) more than pumpkin no doubt, but still made a face. 

You know the face, the "Myee..hhhh" face.

However,  a "myehh" face, specially at anything on my plate was strictly prohibited at home.

Ma had strict instructions.

 "Thalay ja dewa hobe shob khete hobe"(you have to eat whatever is served on your plate).

So I had to hide the 'myehh' expression and just eat it,  basically swallowing most of it down with water with hopes of seeing fish curry on my plate the next day.

Potol (Pointed gourd) was a simple summer vegetable, hence not that pricey. Therefore, Ma served potol-curry and rice quite frequently.

I only understood its "value" at different stages of my life later.

Stage 1: Hostel life

Although I admit that hostel life was the best part of my life, food was really bad. Vegetarian hostel food in those days were pure torture. All sorts of mushy, slippery, unattractive vegetables were served in the most ugly looking curries one could think of. Tears welled up  in my eyes on certain days .....it was that bad.

Missed Ma's cooking. Anything and everything. 

If only something cooked by Ma would magically appear on the table!

Even if it was POTOL-alu dalna!

Nothing like that happened, I just got used to the hostel food, complained less and found far more important things to enjoy.

Stage 2: Pregnancy

The first three months were awful, could not eat a grain. 

Hormones were being crazy. Mood was all over the place. Poor husband tried to maintain peace.

The next six months were super! Eternally hungry ! Taste buds craving for everything.

If only food would be served! I fell in love with vegetables, all of them.

Pictures of Potol-curry danced around me like the distant desert mirages. The curry which was so 'Myeeh' in my childhood became a delicacy in my dreams...if only Mom was around to cook me a bowl of Potol curry.

Potol was not available in Netherlands, so no Potol-curry was served!

Stage 3: Now!!

I actually love Potol now, in any form.

The value of these vegetables and home cooked food is now well understood (thanks to the number of years added to my life....no one can deny the wisdom that the years have added).

Unfortunately Potol is not that easily available in the shops near my house. However, by God's extreme grace, I do have a friend who lives in a house which is close to an Indian store that sells Potol. This summer, my craving for Potol exceeded all other years and I went up to my friend P, to request him to get me a kilogram of this lovely vegetable. P got the vegetable and planned to hand it over at work (we work at the same office). But I could not go to work the day after, so he passed it on to his wife S.  S works close to my house, so I drove to her office to pick up the kilogram of Potol from her.

As I waited outside her office for her to come out after work and handover the bag of precious Potol to me.....I smiled to myself!

Am I the same person who is doing all this ....just for Potol?

The "value" of Potol must have appreciated multiple times over the years......... 

I came back home with Potol in my bag and plans in my head to use each and every bit of the lovely vegetable.

Day 1: Fried 2 potols (Saved the peels) -- ate too fast, no photos.

Day 2: Made Potol posto with 4 Potols (Saved the peels) --ate too fast, no photos

Day 3: Made Alu-Potol dalna  (Saved the peels)

Day4: Made Potol-khosha-bata (Used all the saved peels)

That is what I call "Value of a Vegetable".

           

Alu-Potol dalna

Potol-khosha-bata

Thank you P and S.