My wrists are having a tough time typing this, after the wrestling session with sorghum flour. It was terrible. My poor wheat flour is such a sweetheart. It has never given me trouble. Am I forgetting something here? Yes, I am.
As a new bride I had a tough time with wheat flour too. My husband's family had this penchant for eating chappatis in the night. And since I had taken over as the daughter-in-law it was now my duty to ensure that the family got it's chappatis on time. My mom-in-law was very sure that I was a useless, well she was right. At least I didn't know how to make chappatis. Good, round, light, soft chapattis that would melt away in your mouth. And the secret to it was well-kneaded dough with the right proportion of water. Now this was something I hated doing. It always took a lot of time and I never got it right. Either the dough would become gooey or it would sit staring at me, hard as rubber. And if at all I managed to make it reach the pan on the stove, it would only land back on the plate with a black makeover and someone would ask me switch on the exhaust. But soon I learnt to manoeuvre the dough as per my way. Soon they would just see me disappearing into the kitchen, to be back with a casserole full of soft, perfectly round chappatis, in no time. In fact, my father-in-law (who was always a fault-finder) freaks out on me and says that it's only when I'm around that he feasts on chappatis. That's an achievement for me.
But yesterday marked the beginning of a new story. My husband has been advised to abstain from wheat and wheat and wheat products. So I'm trying out new rotis with ragi flour, pearl millet flour, corn flour, gram flour and rice flour. Yesterday was the first day. And it was bad when I started off. I struggled and struggled and struggled. But the kneaded dough always looked deceptive. All the while I kept pleading to the sorghum flour to surrender, but my pleas fell on deaf ears. My mom-in-law empathised with me. She told me that the sorghum flour that she got last time was not so yellowish in colour. I stopped kneading. I picked up the flour packet to ensure that it was not adulterated. Gosh! It read 'Makai Atta' - Maize flour. Now where on earth did I read 'sorghum flour'? I peeped into the shopping bag and there at the bottom, beneath that monstrous bunch of coriander leaves lay the flour packet and I read it and reread it and re-reread it. I started the whole process again. But at least this time it was better. Finally I made some rotis which tasted yum with the dill leaves cooked with garlic and groundnuts, the recipe of which I had taken from the girl at the bill counter in the supermarket. She must be a good cook as the dish really turned out well. And all's well that ends well. Oh...it hasn't ended. It has just begun. This evening the kitchen lab is going to attempt making ragi rotis...Ha Ha Ha!
As a new bride I had a tough time with wheat flour too. My husband's family had this penchant for eating chappatis in the night. And since I had taken over as the daughter-in-law it was now my duty to ensure that the family got it's chappatis on time. My mom-in-law was very sure that I was a useless, well she was right. At least I didn't know how to make chappatis. Good, round, light, soft chapattis that would melt away in your mouth. And the secret to it was well-kneaded dough with the right proportion of water. Now this was something I hated doing. It always took a lot of time and I never got it right. Either the dough would become gooey or it would sit staring at me, hard as rubber. And if at all I managed to make it reach the pan on the stove, it would only land back on the plate with a black makeover and someone would ask me switch on the exhaust. But soon I learnt to manoeuvre the dough as per my way. Soon they would just see me disappearing into the kitchen, to be back with a casserole full of soft, perfectly round chappatis, in no time. In fact, my father-in-law (who was always a fault-finder) freaks out on me and says that it's only when I'm around that he feasts on chappatis. That's an achievement for me.
But yesterday marked the beginning of a new story. My husband has been advised to abstain from wheat and wheat and wheat products. So I'm trying out new rotis with ragi flour, pearl millet flour, corn flour, gram flour and rice flour. Yesterday was the first day. And it was bad when I started off. I struggled and struggled and struggled. But the kneaded dough always looked deceptive. All the while I kept pleading to the sorghum flour to surrender, but my pleas fell on deaf ears. My mom-in-law empathised with me. She told me that the sorghum flour that she got last time was not so yellowish in colour. I stopped kneading. I picked up the flour packet to ensure that it was not adulterated. Gosh! It read 'Makai Atta' - Maize flour. Now where on earth did I read 'sorghum flour'? I peeped into the shopping bag and there at the bottom, beneath that monstrous bunch of coriander leaves lay the flour packet and I read it and reread it and re-reread it. I started the whole process again. But at least this time it was better. Finally I made some rotis which tasted yum with the dill leaves cooked with garlic and groundnuts, the recipe of which I had taken from the girl at the bill counter in the supermarket. She must be a good cook as the dish really turned out well. And all's well that ends well. Oh...it hasn't ended. It has just begun. This evening the kitchen lab is going to attempt making ragi rotis...Ha Ha Ha!
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