Skip to main content

Men Can Cook: Chitranna

The UN recently declared that a mother’s love towards her children is directly proportional to the tastiness of the chitranna she makes. Which doesn’t say much because the quality of chitranna is measured on a binary scale- it’s either wonderful or aweful. Most people I know who hate chitranna are also the same ones who are unable to appreciate the finer nuances in life. Unprofessional humans.
Chitranna happens to be one of the go to breakfasts of Indian mothers because of its ease in making, simplicity of ingredients and it being a great way to get rid of last nights’ leftover rice- your share of rice- which you didn’t eat because you had gobi fried rice at the corner shop 12 minutes before dinner time although our mother warned you not to. This type of chitranna is a punishment of sorts- bland, colourless, and even the bloody kadle beeja tastes bitter.
Then there’s the chitranna your mother makes for special occasions, especially when you have guests over. The one with cashews and extra kadle beeja and coconut, which tastes like a coloured coconut rice instead of boring old chitranna. If you have no idea what I’m talking about, then I pity you. Because you’re adopted. So sad. Two minutes’ silence for you.

---Wait for 2 minutes before continuing---

Get a handful of grated coconut on a plate and put it right in the middle of the fucking kitchen counter. The more obstructive it is to your work flow, the better. There have been times when I’ve forgotten this until I was just about sticking the last spoon full of chitranna into my mouth, which would invariable be salty and wet because of all the tears. If there isn’t any grated coconut in the house, then break a coconut in half, and grate the living shit out of those kernels until you have a big bowl full of pearly, stingy coconut grates.

The most important ingredient for chitranna is the onion. Many people might disagree with me, and that’s fine, just like their chitranna, which is just fine. We’re trying to make the festival day chitranna, so get a big juicy onion and chop it up length wise, or dice it into cubes, whatever you like. Don’t go all Marco Pierre White on it and pulverize it. The onions should have a bite; they should have a strong independent demeanour of their own in this dish. Onionism, if you may.

Lemon.

A handful of ground nuts and may be a few cashews. Cashes are only mandatory if you are using chitranna as a bribe- your path to a new bike, car, that expensive jeans, third affair and what have you, not. Or maybe you had a shitty day and don’t have wine lying around the house. Whatever, man, do what pleases you.

For tempering- a tea spoon of mustard seeds, a tea spoon of cumin, a sprig of curry leaves, some channa dal and some urad dal.

Optional- coriander leaves.

Fire up the stove, and add a generous amount of oil in a wok. When I mean generous, I mean The-USA-wants-to-invade-your-kitchen generous. When the oil is hot, drop them ground nuts and fry them up for a bit until they slightly change colour. Add those tempering ingredients, let them fry for a bit and add the curry leaves. Once the curry leaves stop sputtering, add the chopped onions, salt to taste and some turmeric to get that sweet lime green colour.
Once the onions are cooked through, turn off the stove, add the grated coconut and let the mix sit through for a bit.

While it cools, grab a vessel big enough to comfortably stir rice in with the mix, and a large spoon. Add the rice in the vessel and spread it out evenly. Then, add the oily mix to the rice and, well, mix it well till the boring old white colour rice turns into a nice shade of green.
Chop the lemon, remove seeds (V.V.V Important) and squeeze the sour, tart juices into the rice. Throw away the lemon peel. Mix the rice thoroughly again.

Enjoy.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Jonny Jonny

            “Jonny! JONNY!” bellowed Jonathan Smith Sr., banging on the apartment door.             “Goddamnit Jonny, open the fucking door!” he banged on the door again, the green flakes on the faded door reverberating. “I know you’re in there.”             Jonathan heard his son scuffling inside, hastily making way towards the door. He could hear his son, Jonathan “Jonny” Smith Jr. clumsily fiddling with the latches on the other side of the door, cursing under his breath every time he fumbled. Jonathan flung the door open, almost knocking over Jonny, and barged right in.             “What took you so long?” Jonathan said, and went straight to the only bedroom in the apartment, not waiting for an answer.          ...

Clubhouse. CoWin. China.

If you feel an odd sense of deja vu while reading this piece, then you've spent too much time switching between Facebook and Clubhouse. Unless you've been living underground or in a home with ACT broadband, you know what Clubhouse is - it is where many people can have their Mann ki Baat at once. And Facebook has turned into a platform to critique, analyse and make fun of discussions that happen on Clubouse. Congrats Clubhouse, you just replaced the Indian Government, at least as far as Facebook discourses go. Clubhouse is more or less an impulsive, live podcast session - an open space where everyone is made to feel like Joe Rogan. But no one talks about DMT or shaved gorillas or MMA or shaved gorillas doing MMA while on DMT. But it always does sound like everyone is on something stronger than the devil's lettuce. Maybe you need that to hear your own thoughts over the din of uncomprehensive ramblings and mouth-breathing noises. Speaking of noises, Saudi Arabia restricted the...

10-ish reasons to love a commuter bike (or why your Pulsar is good, but my Passion is better)

Last week alone I saw two articles about the coveted Royal Enfield Bullet (for the uninitiated, it's the bike that goes dug-dug-dug-dug). So, being the nosey parker that I am, and being a proud owner of a bike in the segment myself, I searched the interwebs for a similar article about the simple commuter bike. Sadly I didn't find a single one of that sort. I never wanted to write this blogpost in the first place, but it seems like the universe has conspired to result in this. Cunning universe. So here are 10-ish reasons to love a commuter bike- 1.   They are cheap AF:  You can saddle up on a 100 cc for under 70k INR. With papers. Accessories included. Not only does it cost less, but it's really wallet friendly when it comes to maintenance as well. These bikes are manufactured with the average middle class commuter in mind. By that I mean, for the ones who have a strong mindset of "don't fix it if it's not broken". The bike will work fine even if you...