When I got married five years ago, there were three simple things my Indian mother-in-law suggested I learn how to do:
I had high hopes when I brought my pressure cooker home from India. Buoyed by my cousin’s promises of culinary nirvana, I boldly envisioned the tasty three-course meals I would set before my hubby each night:
Creamy lentils the color of a Mumbai sunset; perfectly cooked basmati rice; rainbow-hued vegetables, expertly seasoned and steamed until crisp-tender.
I imagined him taking his first bite, a look of ecstasy spreading across his face as he exclaims “Honey, these are the most delicious lentils I’ve ever tasted...even better than my mom’s!”
Choirs would sing. The heavens would part. Out of nowhere, friends and family would appear in our dining room, moving in unison to the Bollywood dance hit “Om Shanti Om”.
Hey, a girl can dream, right?
Now here’s what really happened:
I opened the box containing my new pressure cooker, spread the agglomeration of parts on my kitchen counter, and threw the owner’s manual in the drawer with about 500 others collecting dust.
Then I phoned my mother-in-law for help.
I guess I should have realized that using a pressure cooker is harder than it looks when Aai refused to give me instructions over the phone.
“Just wait.....I will show you when I come,” she insisted.
True to her word, she appeared at our doorstep the following week armed with a package of yellow lentils and a potful of advice. Glued to her elbow, I made mental notes as she worked.
“Listen for the whistle,” she explained as she snapped the lid of the cooker shut. “When it blasts three times, it’s done.”
In what seemed like mere seconds, the lentils were cooked to golden perfection, ready to be seasoned and whipped into aamati, the soup-like staple of every Maharashtrian meal.
What could be easier? I thought. A week later I was ready to try it on my own. There was only one problem: those mental notes I made the week before had evaporated as quickly as the steam in my cooker!
Was it 1 cup lentils to 2 cups water....or the other way around? High heat or low? Five minute cool-down....or longer? The only thing I could remember was to listen for the three whistles, which came quickly and close together and left ugly brown steam marks across the lid of my cooker.
(At this point I should mention that I did consult my owner’s manual, which was about as useful as lighting a match to bake a cake.)
Still clueless, I decided to wait 10 minutes before prying open the lid. When I did.....
KABOOM!!!
Weeks later, I am still cleaning up gluey remnants (now the color of Mumbai swamp water) that have pasted themselves to unexpected spots in my kitchen.
Still I remained unfazed. After all, I’ve cooked Thanksgiving dinner for 25 and prepared homemade tamales so authentic you’d swear they came from a Guadalajara kitchen. And not to brag, but my pav bhaji once brought a visiting swami to tears.
I wasn’t about to let a stinking stainless steel pot take me down without a fight!
So when it happened again - this time with cauliflower (way less offensive than lentils) - I appealed to my Facebook friends for help. And considering the diversity of my friend list, I wasn’t surprised when they returned some remarkably constructive advice.
The first comment came from Kenton, a 33-year-old IT tech, who opined that maybe I didn’t let the pot cool down long enough.
Shipra, a researcher originally from Delhi, explained that I must ensure all the steam is out of the pot by slightly lifting the whistle with a serving spoon.
And Wayne, an L.A. photographer, added that I should cook on low heat and run cold water over the lid of the cooker to speed up the cooling process.
But the best comment came from my friend Bonnie, who nailed it when she said that exploding pressure cookers are “just one more reason not to cook.”
Bonnie, I’m not ready to throw in the towel on my pressure cooker just yet. But it’s nice to know I have an easy “go-to” dish like poha in my repertoire, just in case. And when all else fails, there’s a great Indian restaurant just minutes from our house. The food is tasty and the prices are reasonable.
And to be totally honest, the thought of my family bhangra dancing around my dining room every night was pretty overwhelming!
- Make chai
- Prepare an easy “go-to” dish, like poha
- Use a pressure cooker
I had high hopes when I brought my pressure cooker home from India. Buoyed by my cousin’s promises of culinary nirvana, I boldly envisioned the tasty three-course meals I would set before my hubby each night:
Creamy lentils the color of a Mumbai sunset; perfectly cooked basmati rice; rainbow-hued vegetables, expertly seasoned and steamed until crisp-tender.
I imagined him taking his first bite, a look of ecstasy spreading across his face as he exclaims “Honey, these are the most delicious lentils I’ve ever tasted...even better than my mom’s!”
Choirs would sing. The heavens would part. Out of nowhere, friends and family would appear in our dining room, moving in unison to the Bollywood dance hit “Om Shanti Om”.
Hey, a girl can dream, right?
Now here’s what really happened:
I opened the box containing my new pressure cooker, spread the agglomeration of parts on my kitchen counter, and threw the owner’s manual in the drawer with about 500 others collecting dust.
Then I phoned my mother-in-law for help.
I guess I should have realized that using a pressure cooker is harder than it looks when Aai refused to give me instructions over the phone.
“Just wait.....I will show you when I come,” she insisted.
True to her word, she appeared at our doorstep the following week armed with a package of yellow lentils and a potful of advice. Glued to her elbow, I made mental notes as she worked.
“Listen for the whistle,” she explained as she snapped the lid of the cooker shut. “When it blasts three times, it’s done.”
In what seemed like mere seconds, the lentils were cooked to golden perfection, ready to be seasoned and whipped into aamati, the soup-like staple of every Maharashtrian meal.
What could be easier? I thought. A week later I was ready to try it on my own. There was only one problem: those mental notes I made the week before had evaporated as quickly as the steam in my cooker!
Was it 1 cup lentils to 2 cups water....or the other way around? High heat or low? Five minute cool-down....or longer? The only thing I could remember was to listen for the three whistles, which came quickly and close together and left ugly brown steam marks across the lid of my cooker.
(At this point I should mention that I did consult my owner’s manual, which was about as useful as lighting a match to bake a cake.)
Still clueless, I decided to wait 10 minutes before prying open the lid. When I did.....
KABOOM!!!
Still I remained unfazed. After all, I’ve cooked Thanksgiving dinner for 25 and prepared homemade tamales so authentic you’d swear they came from a Guadalajara kitchen. And not to brag, but my pav bhaji once brought a visiting swami to tears.
I wasn’t about to let a stinking stainless steel pot take me down without a fight!
So when it happened again - this time with cauliflower (way less offensive than lentils) - I appealed to my Facebook friends for help. And considering the diversity of my friend list, I wasn’t surprised when they returned some remarkably constructive advice.
The first comment came from Kenton, a 33-year-old IT tech, who opined that maybe I didn’t let the pot cool down long enough.
Shipra, a researcher originally from Delhi, explained that I must ensure all the steam is out of the pot by slightly lifting the whistle with a serving spoon.
And Wayne, an L.A. photographer, added that I should cook on low heat and run cold water over the lid of the cooker to speed up the cooling process.
But the best comment came from my friend Bonnie, who nailed it when she said that exploding pressure cookers are “just one more reason not to cook.”
Bonnie, I’m not ready to throw in the towel on my pressure cooker just yet. But it’s nice to know I have an easy “go-to” dish like poha in my repertoire, just in case. And when all else fails, there’s a great Indian restaurant just minutes from our house. The food is tasty and the prices are reasonable.
And to be totally honest, the thought of my family bhangra dancing around my dining room every night was pretty overwhelming!
