“Join me at my place for lunch and let’s prepare mouthwatering Indian cuisine.”

The suggestion came from Leslie, our Caucasian friend who loves Asian food. There are three of us in total. Both Anila and I come from Indian heritage. The proposal urges me to search through my assortment of clippings, handwritten scraps, and a worn recipe book. I see a note in my Mom’s handwriting faded over time. It is a scribble of a recipe for tomato rice. Aha-tomato rice! A long-ago dinner flashes through my mind. Mummy is learning the recipe and trying it the first time. The image of the small box of Campari tomatoes in the fridge flickers by. I’ve tried making this dish once before–less than yummy as I recall. Such a disappointment! The culprits? Some missing spices and shortcuts.

I remember the lesson. I need to practice prior to meeting my friends for the cooking session. Sixty years ago, my mom gleans the old recipe from Mrs. Ramamoorti soon after we move to Bangalore. She attempts it in our kitchen and we absolutely love it. I have a vivid memory of feasting at dinner time. Daddy has no issue with it; he labels the green chilies as persona non grata. With a simple toss of her head, my Mom brushes it off.

While we are clearing the dishes, she pronounces the final verdict, “I’m too full to eat any more.” Despite this, she continues to eat spoonful after spoonful as we carry the tableware to the kitchen. I can’t remember her ever making it again. It seems like Daddy’s comment upset her. Despite everything, I suddenly feel an overwhelming urge to do it once more. I’m eager for it without delay.

I rush and grab the massive jar of rice to take out a cupful. The subtle scent of basmati brings back hidden flavors, and I’m delighted by this spontaneous detour. I rinse the grains multiple times until the water runs clear and allow it to soak for a couple of hours, while gathering the other ingredients.

I am thankful I have most of them. Grabbing a medium-sized onion, I slice it thinly, aiming for a cup. Finely dice four cloves of garlic and a generous inch of peeled ginger. I nearly forget to include the diced jalapeño and ten curry leaves. These are set aside. The box contains several medium-sized Campari tomatoes. They are cut into tiny pieces resulting in four cups.

I look at the dry spices. These combine to make the garam masala. Take equal parts of cumin seeds and mustard seeds (1/2 teaspoon each), add a few small cinnamon strips, 4 slightly crushed green cardamom, 3 cloves, 1 teaspoon whole peppercorns, and 10 fenugreek seeds (methi dana). We will need other spices as well, but we can deal with those later.

Once the garam masala ingredients are ready, I cook. Take two to three tablespoons of vegetable oil (I use Canola) and heat it. It takes a minute for it to start shimmering. Add the mustard seeds and once they crackle, put in the coarsely ground fenugreek seeds.  Give them a good couple of stirs. Add the whole cumin, cinnamon, cardamom, peppercorns, and cloves. Keep moving these around for a few minutes until fragrant. Add the sliced onions and sauté them until translucent. Now include ginger, garlic, green jalapeño, and curry leaves.  Continue mixing for a few more minutes on medium heat until the  leaves begin to curl and turn brown. I remember what Mom said.

“Cooking cannot be rushed by using high heat, so take your time.”

I am taking my time, swirling and swishing after each addition. No rushing, and no shortcuts. All ingredients are there, nothing is missing.

Add the chopped tomatoes and keep stirring them until softened. Now its time to sprinkle additional spices. Combine 1/2 tsp each of black pepper (coarsely ground), chili powder (adjust for less spiciness), coriander powder, and 1 tsp of cumin powder. Remember to add the salt. Continue stirring until the spices coat the onions-tomatoes mixture and the oil separates. I hear and heed Mummy’s words again.

“Use medium heat, not high. Be patient and attentive, it takes a few extra minutes. Waiting for the fat to ooze is crucial. It ensures a proper blending of flavors and prevents a raw taste.”

Save the water from the rice soaking and keep it. Mix the moist grains with the onion-tomato concoction and toss it for seven to eight minutes. The tomato-onion paste should blend in well. Mummy modifies the recipe by including a cup of frozen peas and a jumble of dark and golden raisins. Experience the ultimate fusion food–a blend of South Indian tomato rice with a North Indian twist!

Last, I check the amount of saved water and top it to reach two cups. Combine with the rice. Cover the pot with a lid and allow it to cook on low-medium heat. Continue checking until the liquid is absorbed, and the rice is completely soft. Rub a few grains of rice between my fingers-the texture is not gritty. Transfer the cooked rice onto a platter and toss to make it fluffy. Before serving, garnish with a sprinkle of finely minced cilantro leaves.

A regal dish, steaming and fragrant.

While monitoring the rice, I prepare a simple side dish–the raita. The soothing effect of raita complements and balances the spicy tomato rice with a unique delectable tang. Dice cucumber, onion, and tomato for the raita. Also, mince a few mint leaves. Whisk the yogurt until smooth, and incorporate the vegetables. Sprinkle some salt and black pepper, and give it another stir. Prior to serving, garnish with cilantro, roasted ground cumin, and red pepper.

I sit and sample the results. I dish a scoop of rice along and a small helping of raita. Taking the taste test, my eyes close, I delight in the divine flavor.

Hurray! I’m ready to cook with my friends!

Editor: Claudia Cramer