tales of Suchita

I have had strange nicknames but one that takes the cake is ‘Ganeshi.’ The nickname, I am told, is an ode to my love for milk and milk products. It is also an ode to the fact that just like Chutuk Binai, any time kheer is made in the house, even if it’s for a festival and we’re not supposed to eat it until the festivities have concluded, I’m always given a taste, in the name of checking if the sugar is fine.

I was fourteen years old when I started to use kheer as a way to test others’ cooking skills. It was the time when I lived in Dehradun in one of those bungalows and the neighbouring five houses decided on weekly potlucks where one house would be the host and the other four would bring in the food. Mother would always choose dessert because it was easy to make or procure. The rest of the family never quite supported that choice because inevitably she would make kheer [or it’s foodgasmic sister makhane ke kheer] and we would have to share that ambrosia with other mortals.

Let me say this, no one makes kheer quite like mother makes it. At one point, nani and mother had quite a theatrical fight over who makes kheer better. Mother quite smartly pointed out to nani that she had learnt from the best. Nani was not pleased and I’m not sure who won the round.

A cousin of mine is also a kheer aficionado so needless to say, any time he visits, the dessert is kheer. Much to my disgruntlement because no one makes kheer when I visit. Though, in a way that’s good because the only other person who makes kheer as it should be made is MP’s mother.

But I’m old enough now and last year, when mother was recuperating from a fall, she instructed me on how to make kheer. In her words, “you should always know how to cook your favourites.”

So today I’m sharing with you her super-secret recipe that she learnt from nani and has graciously passed it on to her Ganeshi.

1. Line the utensil with ghee betta warna woh kheer chipak jayegi.
2. Acha ab ek mutthi…no forget it, your fist is bigger than mine. Take 1/4th cup of rice and put it in 1 litre of milk.
3. Put 1 elaichi and let it simmer.
4. Be prepared to get off your ass every 15-20 minutes to stir the rice in the milk. Warna woh chipak jayegi betta thoda zor se karchi ghumao.
5. Once the rice is cooked – it’ll rise in the milk betta, that’s how you’ll know – add half a box of milkmaid. No don’t…stop it! You’re not supposed to feast on the milkmaid betta. Woh kheer ke liye hai. Milkmaid ka dabba please dhyaan se kholna, woh…yes mother I have heard the story of how dad cut his hand on the milkmaid dabba several thousand times.
6. Add a dollop of dry nariyal. Haan betta usse kheer ka texture acha ata hai.
7. Let it simmer and then bettaaaaa gas bandh kar do warna kheer jal jayegi.
8. Taste the kheer before adding sugar – swad anusar.
9. Let it rest. No matter how much you stare at it, it won’t cool down and become ready for consumption. You have to wait Suchi.
10. There is a step here to roast almonds and raisins to be added to the kheer but we will ignore this step because I do not like any accoutrements to hamper the kheer taste.
11. Serve chilled – unless you’re impatient. Then just make sure you don’t burn your tongue, yes?
12. And in case you’re looking for the malai that settles on top of the kheer, chances are, I have already eaten it.

Wait…is this not how you make kheer?

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Connecting this post to #BlogchatterA2Z. To read other posts, check Theme Reveal 2022: Without Prearrangement.

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