recipe

She is sitting on the kitchen countertop, watching me cut some green chillies.

“Can we make something with just chilly? We will call it Chilly Chilly!”

I have been accused of teaching too much, now have to pay the price.

“What are you listening to?”

“Recipe”

“You can’t cook even curd rice without listening to Veena?”

Inspiration hits her suddenly.

“Ok, I will write down the recipe as you make it. Amma said I can do it myself sometime.”

She brings a notebook. There are few recipes in it already, copied from her various grandmas. Is this how recipes are handed down through generations? She wrote down the account of what happened so far and caught up. 

“Put cheenachatti on stove, turn on stove, pour oil. What next?”

“Mustard. Hing. Red chillies.”

“How much mustard? 1 pinch, 2 pinch, 3 pinch.. are you trying to confuse me?”

“No, it is just manodharmam”

“I just have to go and come back. Will something happen meanwhile?”

“No”

Now I have to wait for her to come back to continue. She loves almost everything I make, which is a blessing. She is going to be a big foodie, I can tell, by the way she dips her nose literally into the kadai every time.

…

Later in the day, the notebook is on my table, with a new recipe from her great grandmother. Plan for the weekend.