My nannhiaal is from Jaunpur in UP (Uttar Pradesh) in India where my mother was born.
When they came to Pakistan in the late 1950s, most of the family decided to settle in Karachi. My Nani couldn’t bear the humidity in Karachi and get respiratory ailments acting up. So my Nana and Nani settled in Lahore.
For as long as I can remember our home was the journey break destination for anyone heading to India or vice versa in the family, since there are still parts of the family settled there. The one thing I learned implicitly was the warmth and forever space in hearts and home for guests. Now these guests weren’t your modern day one or two days guests. They would come and stay over for months at end. Which is perhaps why I keep begging people to come stay at ours and always cry when they leave because yeah. Now you know the background of my crazy.
Needless to say, the Taste of food as well as certain dishes were unique to my nani’s house. For instance no one in Lahore would ever know what a Tahiri/ Tehri or Gurr-ambaa is. Or What is Sag Paitaa, or Maash Muqashshar or Kyoti Daal. Or even Qubooli or Qalia. Let alone Suhaali or Qivaami Sivayein.
Things were different. We were different and it felt almost normal to keep quiet about what’s cooking today and just silently enjoy it at home.
Another thing that I always silently missed for years was the TASTE of food that other people also cooked but it would just be so different from what my Nani’s food would taste like. I just stopped expecting ever to find that lazzat. Even though I lost my Nani when I was 33 years old, it never occurred to any of us that there will come a time when she won’t be around any more. So I never really learned how to cook from her. I just ate. All those years.
Yeah. I’m big on eating.
My cooking would entail recipes I would find on the Internet and Ammi would always be so excited to try the new stuff I would make in ways we never cooked at home. We just always got carried away in the excitement of NEW and never realised thy at I am not holding on to the old.
I had given up and stopped looking for the taste I missed in my Nani’s food. Until I found Sarah and her Blog
It all started with me fan-girling her over her flawless and foolproof Pakora Mix and connecting over old Indian song and our “sense” to plug one in everywhere. However it was only through COVID19 lockdown that something magical emerged.
I, one who’s never into daily cooking, had to of course cook every day. Amongst other things, I started rummaging through her website.
I have cooked plenty of things under her wings now but the first one that held my heart in a fist was this Sabit Masoor that is traditionally had with plain steamed or boiled rice. I like mine with Zeera and a few other goodies. It tasted EXACTLY like Ammi’s.
It honestly shook me up.
I cried that afternoon as I shoveled Daal chaaval in my mouth like a teenager.
Never stopping to breathe or bothering to chew.
This daal and plain steamed rice was a staple for every Friday in our house. (Friday used to be the day off back then. Yes. I’m that old). Abbaa (my gorgeous nana), my dad and my mamoos would come back from Juma prayers, all dressed in stark white Kurta pajamas, smelling of Khass while this Daal and chaaval along with other food that clearly paled in comparison (since accompaniments would keep changing) would emerge from the kitchen. We still call it Jumay Vaali Daal (The Friday Daal) and I correct myself every time I speak to an outsider.
Steaming jumay vaali daal and chaaval, abba’s Itr (Khass) and the weekly family lunch, the one day when everyone was home in the afternoon.
It would usually be followed by home grown luscious mangoes (yeah, we had 5 trees. Never bought mangoes up until I was perhaps in my teenage and my nana was too unwell to supervise caring for his beloved trees).
These are the memories this daal brings back.
So here is Sarah’s Daal that took my heart away and I am sharing my boiled rice recipe because clearly that’s all I’m good for.
We all work with the “expertise” we do have, you know ROFL!
Fragrant Boiled Rice
Ingredients
2 cups rice (soaked for 20 minutes or more. Don’t leave it overnight. It ferments. I know. I’ve tried.)
Star Anise 1
Bay leaves 2
Cloves 2
Cumin seeds 1-2 tsp (God alone knows I’ve never measured masala)
Black Peppercorns 3-4
Cinnamon stick (if you are outside of Pakistan and get the proper curled long ones maybe half or quarter. If you are in Pakistan and get the desi tukrraas/ pieces then one piece)
A few drops of oil (vegetable oil, olive oil. Any mild smelling oil will do).
1-2 tablespoons of Salt
4-5 cups of water
Method
To the four or five cups of water, add all the spices and the salt along with the oil. Basically everything except the rice.
Let it come to a rolling boil. Then add rice to it and lower the heat. Allow it to simmer don’t let it boil because that will turn it into mush. Once it is one Kanee boiled (the grain is still a little uncooked from the middle but cooked and soft on the sides. I eat it and check it. You can do the more civilised act and check with your hand) drain it in a colander and bonk it all back in the pot.
Place a large flat tavaa on the heat and let it heat up evenly. Then lower the heat to a minimum and place the pot of rice on top, lid on.
15-20 minutes later your rice is ready to go!
Thank you Sarah, for giving me an opportunity to share with my child the taste of my own childhood. Something my lazy ass had almost skipped on altogether. It is her absolute favourite.
Daal Peema!
(A story for another day but for now. Daal means chawal and peema means daal. Go figure!)