There is always that one recipe which appears daunting. The one bowl that you would dare not make yourself, and instead be satisfied with take-out or eating from kitchens other than your own. It could be because it looks too complicated, or perhaps it is not in you, to tackle the particular cooking method, or because it tastes simply too perfect to be created with amateur hands. It was a combination of all three reasons that kept me away from Dal (with lentils) curry in our home, and as with all things fearful, there came a point of time when I decided to just go for it. As I write this now, I am filled with the satisfaction that it turned out better than I could ever imagine. However the process before and during, saw an anxiety-ridden me, with the least bit of confidence in myself. This piece of writing is therefore a tribute to the quote "Do one thing every day, that scares you".
It was right in the middle of nowhere that the inspiration struck. A urge within to get this going. I don't remember what triggered it. Whatever it was, it left me with a deep desire to cook Dal and make it count. My past fears that kept me away from this dish seemed to evaporate at that point in time, and was replaced by a confidence surge strong enough to get ingredients and start researching the recipe combination that I would use. Sometimes in life, the greatest decisions are taken in the shortest of time. This could turn out disastrous, but more often than not, it spans itself out quite well. Luckily for me the stars had aligned to cause no catastrophes, and the process was surprisingly a pleasure.
I got the ingredients of the most complicated recipe I could find, not because it sounded harder than it was, but because my inner chef shouted out that this would please the palate the best. Not one type of lentil, but three. The tiny miser in me which tends to give opinions when not asked, did proclaim that this was a luxury that I did not require. I quelled it soon enough, and got down to watching the online video recipe a couple of times before my confidence levels were stable enough to begin. While preparing to go by the book, in yet another spark of genius inspiration, I made the wise decision to add spinach to the dish, to make it healthier. My mind wandered back to about twenty years ago, a birthday party lunch where I had eaten this combination for the first time; a wide-eyed kid delighted at how spinach could taste so good. With these happy vibes to guide me through, my positive energy enhanced and excitement spiking, I tackled the washing and chopping of spinach.
I was pleased that I managed to get a reasonably good quantity this time, being more than aware now, of the diminishing principal of cooking spinach. I loved the contrast the green provided to my red chopping board, and the satisfying crunch as I chopped roughly through. I even enjoyed the juice that was squeezing itself out in between my fingers, and felt the freshness and purity of it all. It was lovely to see the leaves get cut into smaller sizes with each thrust of the knife, and I even found respite from the fear of the dal, for a good few minutes.
The inevitable could not be postponed, and I got started with the first few steps for the tadka, prepping and preening till it smelled heavenly. I loved seeing the crackling mustard and dried red chillies finding their home in the hot oil with the best of spices. I began adding the dal and dared to not deviate from the cooking instruction, since this was new territory for me. I was quite surprised to see that it was coming along well. I told my self at that point in time, to stop doubting my abilities from the highest stand point of the cynic I could be. Fear of failure kept me from letting go and believing, but perhaps this was a sign that I should go a little easier on myself. While the dal (yes, all three kinds) boiled and mashed itself together, with the help of the ladle, I fought an internal battle on when the right time to add the spinach was. After some contemplation and time running out, I dumped the lot in, and stirred it through to see it mix well. I left it on for some more time, adding the remaining ingredients as called for. The taste test left me speechless, at how well it had turned from just some pulses and seeds to a aromatic curry that would go well with anything!
I was extremely pleased with myself, and looked forward to the praise that would flow once my husband tried it too. My confidence was at a peak now; I felt like I could conquer the world, after the success in my little kitchen space. I was also left a little taken aback with the abilities I now seemed to possess, though with time I would realise that it was not such a feat after all.
Nevertheless, it was with peace and joy that I slept that night, revelling in the simplicity of the Indian dal.
I sign off now, with my sights set for the next time I muster up enough courage to try this again.