One of my key ways of cheering myself up involves eating, making or reading about Indian food. (Often, all at the same time).
I also enjoy a nice outing to the Indian grocery store; I do my best when I’m there, trying respectfully to use the right words (atta instead of flour and never referencing a ‘curry’ since this is a crass Anglo-misnomer) but I’m also cringingly aware that they may think I’m pulling a “Food Channel-Poseur” and will be holding themselves up at the counter, screaming with laughter behind the Bollywood dvds as I leave …
(I do prefer to believe that my sincerity is not in question as I have been the recipient of more than a few whispered best-ways-to-do-this during my visits …)
Indian mothers throughout the world – Mummyjis, if you will – you have my utmost respect and admiration! I applaud the sheer time and love it takes to make just one Indian meal and the skill that is involved in making everything come together at the right time. We often joke at home that it takes two days notice just to make a proper Indian lunch – never mind dinner! (And to Son #2, no I still don’t think it’s necessary to rub the chickpeas through a sieve to remove their skins and this will not be happening in my world …)