My dreams of having khichuri while listening to the sound of rains didn’t work out.
The constant sound of drilling and hammering that we have been living with for months now drowned the persistent pitter patter of the rains.
I took on the nerve wracking noise of construction and reconstruction with the whistle of the pressure cooker as it hurried the khichuri to get ready. And the crackle of whole spices hitting the heated ghee in the cooker before that. The sizzle that announced the moment when the begun (brinjal) and rui maachh peti (rohu belly) crashed against the smoky mustard oil in their respective kadhais. I fried both simultaneously on two burners, once the khichuri was ready.
The joyful sounds from the kitchen acted as a salve to my soul, but guess what, the rain didn’t come back after its thunderous promise to do so in the morning. At least it was cloudy while I had lunch and then out came the sun for dessert.
The meal was lovely. I prefer bhuni khichuri, which is not runny. It’s more popular in Bangladesh as I discovered. Maybe it’s in my genes as my roots lie in the east of Bengal. It’s got far more punch than the runny one, though haters would say that monsoons means runny khichuri. Not bhuni.
My begun and maachh bhaaja aren’t very korkore (crisp) as I don’t use too much oil. Korkore is more fun though.
I am told that it is raining heavily in Kolkata. Please stay, high and dry folks. Take care. Lots of love from this probashi in Mumbai.
