I was making yellow daal and chawal for lunch. Got done with them… Was working on the baghaar/tarka now.
With the oil at the right temperature, adding in the spices, concentrating on the baghaar while thousand thoughts 💭 running through the mind, prime being i gotta make kachoomar salad and voting between to fry or not to fry the shami kebabs.
Finally the baghaar gets done and a “Yes” voted for the shami kebabs, i opened the lid of the pan containing the daal, quickly pour in the baghaar, sizzzling is heard and rapidly i close the lid. A reflex that happens after repeatedly watching mumma do it. 😎
Amidst the sizzling, the baghaar infuses with the daal and gives out an aroma which manages to escape during the microsecond which was spent in covering the lid. An aroma so strong that it transported me to an era completely different….. My childhood. Dadi ka ghar 🏡🏡, joint family system👪👪👪, running 🏃 in the big lawn👯, detailed discussions of elders over khana (gosht 🐐🐃🐮🐂🐄kitna umda aya hai, yeh wali boti 🐐tu jaan hai is khanay ki, biryani tu asal mein yakhni wali hi hotee hai, sabzi🍆 ki bhunai tu buhat aala hui hai, badam ne tu Qormay ki raunaq hi barha di👍, aaj tu kafgeer hi tor daala aap ne👏. Delhi walay jo tehray 😉) deciding upon lunch what to have for dinner, rounds after rounds of tea🙉, getting crazy upon meeting with our cousins, VCR movie sessions📺📼, midnight snacking with those stupid horror story telling session followed by stories of kis ki ami ziada marti hain.. 😂😂
Siggggghhhhh. And i come back to my senses 🔃still securing the pans lid with a big smile😊 over my lips and tears flowing like river indus. 😅😅
What can a baghar do! 🎯♨🔗
Image from google.