Skip to main content

Jugadoo spirit

 



Embraced my inner archaeologist at mom's place in India for some old-school baking! The cake pan was as ancient as me—had to gauge its thickness, like a culinary archaeologist on a mission. Found a pan with sand underneath, because apparently, slow baking in an archaeological pan is the secret to out-of-this-world cakes.


No fancy gadgets here—mom misplaced them all. So, opened a pineapple can with a knife and 'latney/belan' for perforations. Connected the dots, plonked ingredients, turned on the gas, and entered the waiting game. No timer, just a guessing game like a culinary gambler!


Winter in Pune called for warm custard, but no Devon custard cartons in sight. Back to basics—corner shop, brown and polson custard powder. The vanilla aroma was a time-traveling ticket to childhood. They say aromas have memories—couldn't agree more.


Baking and assembling took ages, but the time spent was a priceless journey in a culinary time machine. Long live our "jugadoo spirit"/—because sometimes, the olden ways are the tastiest ways!

1/1/24

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

“9 Yards, 2 Geniuses, and 1 Clumsy Model!”

So it was one of those crisp, golden autumn mornings when the world looks like it’s been filtered through honey. We’d just wrapped up a sweaty but super-fun dance practice with Sujatha — full of dramatic moves, chaotic steps, and some serious “Bollywood-meets-gym” vibes. That’s when Apeksha and Jaydeep dropped their brilliant plan: “Let’s do a photoshoot!” Now, I’m not one to say no to free glamour, so of course, I volunteered as tribute — I mean, as the subject.  Enter: The Saree Stylist Extraordinaire All I had to do was stand still, while Jaydeep,who I’m convinced was a costume designer in a past life .. worked his magic. He took a plain old me and wrapped me in nine yards of Narayanpeth silk magic, complete with a stole made of khanache kapad that screamed heritage and elegance. Jaydeep’s attention to detail is something else. He doesn’t just drape a saree; he sculpts it. And the tips he casually shared while doing so — tips I had clearly lived decades without knowing — were...
Post a Comment
Read more

_Starry Laughs_

  _Starry Laughs_ My cousin, her friend Veena, and I went on a hill station adventure that felt like a breath of fresh air, literally. Girivan, nestled in the Sahyadri ranges, proved to be a tranquil escape from the crowded chaos of other popular hill stations. Veena, our gracious host, led us to her farmhouse, and the journey up the windy and uphill roads was an experience in itself. Finally reaching her house was like stumbling upon a hidden gem—a classic Spanish villa with bold yellow walls bordered in deep red, standing proudly amid lush greenery. Veena's garden resembled a botanical wonderland, featuring an assortment of trees, from mangoes to bayleaf, palm to bananas. It was a paradise where guava, jaam, amla, peppercorn, and betel leaf creepers coexisted in harmony, creating a serene and zen-like atmosphere. Our taste buds were treated to a culinary spread by Veena's talented housekeeper. Rustic chicken gravy, sautéed dried fish (बोंबील), bhakri, and warm इंद्रायणी भ...
Post a Comment
Read more

Rickshaaaaa ssss

  In the chaotic symphony of Indian transportation, the rickshaw emerges as the unsung hero of the streets – a three-wheeled chariot of triumph or, as I like to call it, the 4 by 4 for the bold. Sure, you may sacrifice your hairstyle to the winds and acquire a face mask of fumes mixed with dust, but the exhilaration is unparalleled! Behold the 'rickshaw walla', our knight in shining armour amidst traffic jams. With a swift gear change and fearless maneuvering on the wrong side of the road, he transforms a gridlock into a seamless escape, leaving passengers with a mix of dread and admiration. In those moments, shutting your eyes becomes a hopeful prayer for safe arrival. Navigating Pune, I've discovered the perpetual traffic jam opposite Pune University. Is it due to studious rebels bunking lectures, causing a perpetual traffic saga? Hmmmmm,only God or perhaps the dean knows the answer. This university gridlock triggered memories of college mischief, like the day I abandoned...
Post a Comment
Read more