Got Yer Back!

DRUM ROLL PLEASE! I performed my very first improv show on Friday! Ta-daaa!


I was so nervous that I didn't eat hardly anything all day... an especially odd behaviour given my regular routine of eating every two hours.

But the show was a great success, thanks mostly to the fact that I played with a fabulous group of people. Oh AND, Bren played that same night too, in the show after mine. We're an improv family!



This is my favorite scene of the entire thing. That's Laura, the other non-actor-wife-of-an-excellent-improv'er type in our group, my soul-sistah from day one. This scene was extra special because not only did I get to play with Laura, I also got to do a completely silent scene; I have always treasured silent scenes, where the only communication between the players is through their eyes and their bodies. To me, THAT is the magic of improv, where you are so connected to another person that words aren't needed. Laura and I accomplished that! And it went so well that the audience cheered once the scene was over! That hardly ever happens!

I have been taking improv classes for a year now, inspired by Bren's blooming after he took 'em. And as odd as it might sound, improv taught me some valuable lessons about how I should tackle my life.

I am most grateful to improv because it gave me the confidence to improvise in the kitchen, resulting in my first ever recipe, "I Ain't Chicken Chicken". I have been improvising in the kitchen ever since, and it now feels so natural to me that I can't imagine NOT cooking this way. Improv unearthed a buried talent in me, and in that way, has changed my life. I shot a cooking show (patience! it's coming!) and started a weekly Aarti Cooks series. I cannot say enough how much my identity has transformed this year from a recipe-follower... to a recipe-maker... and how happy that makes me.

Improv taught me to "focus out" -- put your focus on other people and figure out any way you can to make them look good. The less you focus on yourself, the better you look and the better time you have playing. Before the show, my friend Karen (in the photo below) whispered to each person, "I got your back!", which we then all whispered to each other, an affirmation that each person was safe because we would all be there to make him/her look good. And Karen really made me look good that night. Thanks K!


I am so grateful for all the people in my class -- each of them took a risk trusting me, which made me feel safe enough to trust them. What a relief from my daily life where my main concern is making myself look interesting or smart or pretty or witty or accomplished or or or... it's much more rewarding (and much less stressful!) to focus on someone other than yourself.

I'm learning to trust my instincts. I usually second-guess them. But I have learned to listen to my gut, make a decision based on my gut, and then stick to the decision. I am still working on this one, but I think I'm a lot better at it. Case in point -- getting the cooking show shot.

Improv reminded me of being a child again. Kuv and I would run around the house with a bedsheet knotted around our necks, and a badminton racket in one hand playing bad-ass female superheros. I didn't realise that playing in that way is still fun now, even when I'm a very serious and important adult (ha!).


I have always longed to be able to get silly with complete strangers, to be utterly open to the potential fun that can come out of taking a chance and getting goofy, without a thought to how silly it might look. I think this will make me a better mother too; I foresee epic imagination journeys with that kid. I had a great opportunity to test that skill in the real world the other day. Bren, Ross, Joo and I were at the farmers market after church the other week, and a little girl was breaking... it... down...



Normally, I would have stayed in my seat and watched, but when Ross got up to try to dance with her, I got up too, despite how silly I felt. We started dancing, other people gathered around and started to clap and that little girl got her 15 minutes in the sun! Woo-hoo! (Ross and I also tried to start a new dance move, but no one joined in. Hmph.)



Most of all, improv has taught me to be fearless. On day one of class, as we went around and talked about why we had decided to take the class, the word "fearless" came up time and time again. We all live in fear of making the wrong decision, of going for something we really want when the possibility of failure is very real, of wondering what other people will think of us. I can honestly say that on Friday, when I was rolling on the ground like a fool in front of an audience, it was the most fearless I have ever felt. And I'm going to try to hold on to that feeling forever and ever.

If you're in town, come see our show, every Friday until Dec 12th, at 8pm. Hothouse Improvised Theatre.

-x-
aarti

Happy Halloween!

Bren and I dressed up as a pair of bunnies: one good and the other psychotic. Can you guess which one is which?





-x-
aarti

Big one, Little one

This is my favorite pan in my kitchen: a teeny tiny cast iron skillet!

It's no bigger that my hand, just big enough to fry an egg, or one sausage, or four gyoza. It's also the perfect size for the Indian cooking technique known in our house as "bagaar", where whole garlic cloves are toasted in oil before throwing in pinches of mustard seeds, cumin seeds, urad dal, curry leaves and turmeric powder. (It's that South Indian flavour combination I talked about in my Lucia & Lucica Indian Fried Rice).



I could never get myself to BUY this pan though, even though it was only a few dollars at the hardware store. That didn't stop me from fantacizing about it every time I saw one though. I wanted it so badly!

And can you believe it: Burning Man furnished it for me! On our last day out there, we went on a scavenger hunt, picking through the things that others had left behind. Not only did I find this little one, I also found THREE other cast iron skillets in different sizes, all in horrible states, but completely curable following this technique. So I got four cast iron skillets at Burning Man, in total probably worth about $100... FOR FREE!!

Oh, and right before Burning Man, we managed to snag this enormous nonstick skillet for free too, off Craigslist.



I make most everything in this big momma -- the fried rice, the hot dogs, veggies burgers... these two are the hardest working pans in my kitchen. And they were both free. So they are doubly-loved. :)



Isn't fate a funny ol' bird?!

-x-
aarti

Aarti Cooks: Hot Dogs/Sausages a la Rose

In these recessionary times, (or as my friend Mikael likes to call it, GD2, ie. Great Depression 2), it's nice to have some cheap meals in your arsenal. This recipe is one of my cheapest, and funnily enough, one of the most delicious. And yes, of course, there's a story.

This recipe came about as a result of my Dad's extensive travels, work trips that happened practically every month and which took him everywhere from Djibouti to Malaysia. He loved and hated it. So did we. We hated that he had gone away, but we loved the tradition it created. Dad, being a curry-and-rice stalwart, hardly ever indulged in fast food. Hence, when the cat was away, the mice made a beeline for Hardy's and Shakey's Pizza (hey, it was Dubai; there weren't a lot of fast food options).

The mother mouse (Rose) also experimented with fusing fast food fixin's with Indian food fixin's. Only my mum would think about slicing tubes of processed "meat" into pretty rounds and cooking them up with onions, garlic, ginger, turmeric, garam masala and... ketchup. Yes ladies and gents, the glorious tangy sweet ketchup, that underestimated occupant in your quiver of kitchen arrows.

This weird combo of common and exotic became our favorite thing that Mum made, and she wisely sent me off to college with this recipe in hand.

I remember the first time I made it for Bren. I can still picture him sitting in the shabby kitchen of our Ridge & Davis apartment, looking at it with a puzzled look on his face. It was even more puzzled once he ate it. He looked up at me, saw my forlorn face and said, "It's just... I don't... get it." So I understand the face you're making at the thought of this combination. But give it a try: it's Bren's favorite now too.

I have made this for him countless times over the past 12 long years and each time, we disagree over what to call 'em: I call them sausages, but Bren says they're hot dogs. I suppose we could settle on calling them "frankfurters", but really, does that sound appetizing? It sounds like "farts".

In any case, I hope you try this. It's wicked easy and it really is delicious. I normally serve it stuffed into some warmed pita bread halves, with a crisp, green salad. I adapted it a little bit for our taste, adding some smoked paprika (pimenton) to fancy it up a bit, and some shredded carrots that I had in the fridge, but you don't need either. I've named this recipe as my Mum would always refer to it:

Sausages a la Rose!

Serves 3
You'll need this stuff:



1 large onion, diced
4 garlic cloves, peeled, sliced thinly
1 1/2 tbsp fresh ginger, minced
1 handful shredded carrots (optional)
1 tsp turmeric
1/4 tsp garam masala
1 tsp paprika
1/2 tsp pimenton aka smoked paprika (optional)
1 large tomato, diced
1/8 cup ketchup
1 pkg hot dogs, sliced about 1/16" thick (I like Hebrew National; you can choose whether you like chicken, turkey or beef. Trader Joes also has some Niman Ranch ones that I used today, which are awesome)
Handful of cilantro, minced


1) Set a large nonstick skillet over medium heat, swirling 1 tbsp canola oil until shimmering. Prep your onions, garlic and ginger whilst the oil is heating up.







2) Add onions, garlic, ginger and carrots, seasoning with salt and pepper. Saute until softened and slightly brown around the edges. Make sure your tomato is all chopped up and ready to go for the next step.






3) Add turmeric, garam masala and paprika's, quickly stirring for about 20 seconds to keep the spices from burning. Add tomatoes and stir. Cook until the mixture turns mushy.






4) Add ketchup, and taste for seasoning, adding more salt and pepper if needed. Cook 5 minutes.








5) Add hot dog rounds, stirring to cover with tomato mixture. Add 1/4 cup water if the mixture is too dry and cover. Simmer over medium-low heat 15 minutes.







6) Taste and season accordingly. Off heat, stir in cilantro. Serve!








Let me know if you try it!




-x-
aarti

Sweet Sweet Joo

I am lucky to have circle upon circle of friends, a special blessing given my years of not having any (backstory here and here).

One of them lives far away in New York. We lived together oh so many years ago in Hoboken, sharing bags of bacon cheddar chips on the weekends, whilst watching Real World marathons. We caught matinee horror movies ("I'll never teeellllll!") at crappy shopping mall cinemas, whilst chomping on Arby's roast beef sandwiches. On Sunday mornings, we'd walk to the overpriced coffee shop opposite the overpriced laundromat, grab a cuppa and the Sunday paper, and trade off on reading various sections while our laundry whirled in the dryers. She even woke me up when the US invaded Iraq so that we could watch the coverage together (although we did battle over whose coverage to watch: NBC or CNN!).

Sweet sweet Joo is on assignment this week in LA, so we got to hang out this weekend. She even spent the night at my house, so that we could go to church together in the morning! And I'm so glad she did because the sermon that morning, (a continuation of a great series about being friends with God that I urge you to listen to here) began with a meditation on real friendship, one that had us poking each other in recognition of the ways in which we are each real friends to each other.

"A simple friend has never seen you cry.
A real friend has shoulders soggy from your tears.

A simple friend doesn't know your parents' first names.
A real friend has their phone numbers in his address book.

A simple friend brings a bottle of wine to your party.
A real friend comes early to help you cook and clean.

A simple friend hates it when you call after she has gone to bed.
A real friend asks you why you took so long to call.

A simple friend seeks to talk with you about their problems.
A real friend seeks to help you with your problems.

A simple friend wonders about your romantic history.
A real friend could blackmail you with it.

A simple friend, when visiting, acts like a guest.
A real friend opens your refrigerator and helps herself.

A simple friend thinks the friendship is over when you have an argument.
A real friend knows that it's not a friendship until after you've had a fight.

A simple friend expects you to always be there for them.
A real friend expects to always be there for you."



(sniff)

-x-
aarti

Portrait of a Present

My dear friend Alex Scarlis has known me since freshman year, when I thought he was hot and he thought I was... loud. Apart from both being gorgeous (I mean, look at his headshot. Ooof!) we have a lot of other stuff in common: a passion for international news, a passion for Indian women (ha!) and of course, a passion for Brendan McNamara.

Leave it to my considerate friend to drop by this week and give me a fantastic birthday present:



It's me!

Well, of course you knew that.

But, even better, now we have a matching set!



Alex gave Bren his portrait on Bren's birthday. What a great idea, huh? I can't believe he found the same Venice boardwalk artist to do mine. Thankyou Alex!

It makes me think of "The Picture of Dorian Gray," one my favourite books of all time.

"How sad it is! I shall grow old, and horrid, and dreadful. But this picture will remain always young. It will never be older than this particular day of June. . . . If it was only the other way! If it was I who were to be always young, and the picture that were to grow old! For this--for this--I would give everything! Yes, there is nothing in the whole world I would not give!"




I can't say I'm AS obsessed with my youth as Dorian was, but I wouldn't complain if our real-life visages stayed just the way they are, whilst our portraits wrinkled and sagged. Ha!




-x-
aarti

Keep the Light On/Off For Me

Ah the joys of being a single-car family! Due to unexpected auditions and callbacks (yippee Bren!), coupled with my bellydance class, Bren and I left the house at 10am and probably won't be back home until 9p. So this is a very short post, written from the hushed environs of the Buena Vista Library.

Yesterday, I mentioned the war between India and China. I confess that I didn't know that much about it, and still don't, having only taken a cursory look at the Wiki entry. It's an interesting piece of history given the present day tug-of-war over autonomy in Tibet. Who knew that part of India was considered South Tibet by the Chinese?!

In any case, Mum and Dad were kids during that war, and while the battles raged far, far north of them, the repercussions were felt all the way to the south where they were. Mum says the Indian government instituted a ration system, where your family card got you an allotted amount of food, soap and kerosene. I mentioned that my Mum's mum got into deals with the neighbours in order to get the best for her children, and even ventured into black market purchases. It's cool to think that every woman is capable of lioness courage for her children.

Here again is my mum's account:
"It was a bad time in India when China attacked India and then Pakistan did the same.
Food produced did not meet the needs o the people so the Govt. started the Ration Card which still exists today as a mode of identification and proof of residence or belonging to a particle state in India.

So we got all our food items that is rice, wheat, cooking oil, kerosene - we cooked on kerosene stoves, soap (for washing clothes) etc.

We had to buy what ever was available and each family had a quota, above which we could not purchase from the ration shop, but had to buy on the black market. They normally two qualities of rice and wheat, one was superior kind and more expensive that the lower quality which was of course cheaper. Now the inferior quality was really bad, but we could only buy so much of inferior quality and so much of the superior quality, we could not buy all our rations in superior quality!! So my Mum had a deal with our neighbour who was a poor fisher woman who could not afford to feed her family with the superior quality of ration from her entitlement. She gave us her quota of the superior rice and wheat and we gave her our inferior quota of rice and wheat. It worked quite well for us, but the rice was never enough for a family of 8 (5 children + mum + 2 maids)and Mum had to resort to the Black Market many times. The soap was a glutenous stuff that had to be dissolved in hot water, before we could soak our clothes in the solutions. Also the sugar that was available was unrefined sugar not the white sugar that we were used to do. But it was probably better for us than the while stuff. Often the wheat would be in short supply and Mum would have to make chapatis with millet flour. This was quite different than preparing the wheat chapatis. We would have to mix the flour with hot water and then knead it. Chapatis would have to be rolled like the puffy ones, without the oil layer in between, and would have to be roasted and eaten immediately or they would turn rubbery!!

Well that is all, but another thing I remember was that behind our house was the creek and fields and mostly uninhabited,; we were told that spies would land in the night and we always had helicopter surveillance. I also remember the sirens that would go off both during the day and night and that we would have to keep our windows shaded to avoid giving the enemy planes their bearings and also to keep us from being bombed!! If there was any light showing through the windows the police would come and knock on our windows with their night stick!! Very scary stuff."

It's a nice reminder now, especially with the hallowed financial system collapsing around us, that things could be much much worse.

-x-
aarti

Aarti Cooks: Lucia & Lucica's Indian Fried Rice

.




My middle name is Lucica, an expansion on my mum's mum's name, Lucia. She’s in the middle, between my Aunty Ruth on the left, and my mum (Rose) on the right. She died when my mum was young. Mum inherited the heavy mantle of surrogate motherhood: cooking, cleaning and taking care of her 4 younger siblings and her dad. My grandpa never remarried, spending the rest of his life pining for his wife. He died almost 2 years ago, so I like to think that they’re reunited and making up for all those lost years.

I don't think you ever get over losing your mum or your dad, no matter how much time has passed between then and now. Mum always talks about her with so much sadness in her voice -- and as I'm writing this, I realise that we, her grandchildren, don't even know what to call her. We call our Dad's mum, "Mamma". I wonder what she would have wanted us to call her.

Anyway. Mum’s mum was a fantastic cook. She made delicious meals out of the measly rations they received during the Indo-China war, even making deals with the neighbors to make sure her family was fed right (I’ll tell you about that tomorrow). She didn’t let a small hurdle like not having an oven keep her from baking a cake – she just made it on her stove-top, with nary a recipe in sight.

Thankfully (for my hungry tummy!), my mum inherited that understanding of kitchen alchemy, an impressive feat in Indian cooking where jar upon jar of delicious, pungent spices sit before you. And she’s had years to practice her dark arts (!), so now, unlike a lot of Indian food I’ve sampled, her dishes are spiced with a sure hand, subtle but precise, soothing not overwhelming, with a gentle burn not a third-degree one… prompting meals that are eaten in relative silence, except for the occasional “mmmmmm”.

Every now and then, Mum would make this “jiffy pulao” for us, using leftover rice, peanuts and my favorite bouquet of spices: mustard seeds, cumin seeds, curry leaves and turmeric.



Here’s how mum remembers this pulao:
“My Mum's Jiffy pulao was made out of necessity in the days when for most Indians having a refrigerator at home was a luxury. For us it was an impossibility because right until I left India for Doha, we did not have electricity in our part of Mumbai!! Can you believe that??

Anyway, my Mum's way of using the leftover rice was making a quick pulao for us, which was precious to us as it was very rare that she would cook us something like this. And the day she gave it away to a poor beggar woman who was hungry and begging for food, it was a sacrilege for us children!”


The other day, with a number of cups of leftover rice in the fridge, I remembered my gran’s pulao and decided that I would try to make my own version. And I must say that for the first time, I think I may have located that little touch of alchemy in my own blood. This pulao is the best thing I’ve made in a long time. In my gran’s honour, I’m calling this:

Lucia & Lucica Pulao: Indian Fried Rice with soy chorizo, peanuts and curry leaves.

A quick note:
“Pulao” is the Indian version of pilaf, and pronounced pu-LLOW (rhymes with allow). Curry leaves do not make curry powder as I’ve heard some people say. The leaves are a spice/herb unto themselves, and you can get them from Indian grocery stores. Just ask quietly because the last I heard, they were banned in the US. I want to buy a curry leaf tree!

Hunt down the turmeric, mustard seeds, cumin seeds and curry leaves from your Indian market; it is really worth it. Don’t worry that you’ll be wasting money on spices you’ll never use again. You can use that combo again and again to spice most anything you want: vegetables, soups, eggs. It’s an authentic South Indian flavour combination that you won’t find in most Indian restaurants.

Soy chorizo: Bren found some awesome soy chorizo at Trader Joe’s, but you could use regular chorizo. Just make sure you cook it separately first, and drain off all that oil. You don’t need it.

I leave the skins on the garlic – they’re aren’t edible but they keep the garlic from burning, and at the end, the clove slips out of the skin and is deliciously soft and sweet.

I took 10 minutes assembling this bevy of ingredient into a photographer’s dream, only to realize at the end that I didn’t use any ginger. So disregard the ginger, as gorgeous as it looks there!




Ingredients:
Canola oil
3-4 cups COLD cooked medium-long grain white rice (basmati is my fav)
1 egg, lightly beaten
1 bell pepper, diced small
½ pkg Trader Joe’s soy chorizo, casing removed
(or ½ pkg of regular chorizo, casing removed)
Handful frozen peas
2 cloves garlic, skins on, very slightly crushed
½ tsp cumin seeds
½ tsp mustard seeds
3/4 tsp turmeric powder
1 sprig curry leaves, stem discarded
Small handful peanuts
Juice of half a lemon

1) Heat a little oil (about a tsp or so) in a wok or nonstick skillet, over medium heat. Once warmed, add the beaten egg and cook into scrambles. Remove from wok and set aside.

2) If you’re using regular chorizo, throw that in now and cook until slightly crispy and glistening. Remove from the wok, draining the oil, and setting the meat aside.

3) Swirl a little oil in the work (2 tsp) and once hot, add the bell peppers. Cook 30 seconds, and then add the soy chorizo if that’s what you’re using. Cook until bell peppers have softened and taken on a little colour. Add peas, cook until warmed through. Remove from wok and set aside.

4) Swirl 1 tbsp oil in wok, and once warm, add the garlic cloves (they should sizzle upon contact). Cook until aromatic, about 30 seconds. If the skins are starting to burn, turn the heat down, or take the wok off the heat before you add the mustard and cumin seeds. You don’t want them to burn.

5) Add the mustard and cumin seeds. Cover. When the seeds begin to splutter, pick up the lid, but hold onto it; throw the curry leaves in, they will splutter rather furiously, so immediately cover. Allow to cook about 10 seconds, until you hear the sizzling die down.

6) Add turmeric. Allow to bloom; the powder will sizzle gently and release its aroma. This takes anywhere from 10-30 secs. If you don’t see the turmeric blooming, add a touch more oil.

7) Add the peanuts and toss, allowing the peanuts to toast a little in the spices.

8) Add the rice and toss, covering the rice in the spices.

9) Add chorizo mixture and egg. Toss gently. Add a little water if it’s too sticky.

10) Season with salt and pepper. Off heat, sprinkle lemon juice over the rice. Toss and serve!



Seriously. This is the best thing I’ve ever come up with. So so so good. Let me know how you like it!

-x-
aarti

What are YOU eating?

The other day, whilst wasting yet another hour (and who knows how many braincells) on Facebook, I wrote this as my status: "Aarti can't decide what to eat. What are you eating?".

(N.B. for those of you who are unfamiliar with the cyber-crack that is Facebook, you can input your status anytime you want, as if to broadcast what you're doing for the thousands of hungry eyes that really and truly do care. I'm not kidding. They really do care. It's weird but true. I love knowing what people are up to RIGHT NOW.)

Imagine my surprise! I got a flood of responses -- the most I've ever received on my status!

"Jelly." (Jello to the US folks)

"Eggs"

"Beer"

"A roast beef sandwich with onions, lettuce, mayo and a touch of oil & vinegar."

"Soy chocolate ice cream mixed with organic almond milk and roasted almonds. Divine!"

"A chupa chup lillipop - coco vanilla flavor...and some beer! mmm!"

"Vegimite on toast...it's breakfast time here. But I'm also in the process of making a beef rendang."

I just loved hearing what everyone was eating! And moreover, I loved the fact that so many people were eating at 3 in the afternoon. Maybe my oddly-timed hunger pangs are not so strange after all -- Bren always makes fun of me because I'm always hungry... even if I've only eaten an hour ago. In fact, I'm hungry right now. Hmmm. I know exactly what I'm going to have too. Plain yoghurt (gotta get those digestive enzymes in somewhere!). Maybe with some honey and some toasted sliced almonds. That is my favorite snack.

It all begs the question: what are you eating? Or, what are you having for dinner? I can't wait to hear all your responses!

And don't forget, the next Aarti Cooks installment drops tomorrow. And this one is good my friends. Very, VERY good.

Write soon!

-x-
aarti

Playing Dress Up

I have never been a fan of Halloween. Getting dressed up seemed like a trial, a test of my ability to be creative, an ability I thought I lacked. I also struggled with the tired notion that being a girl on Halloween means having to choose between Skanky Witch Costume #1 or Frisky Tavern Wench Costume #5...



Burning Man unlocked that part of my brain. There was no mandate to wear a costume at BM, just a suggestion that you wear whatever you think makes you look like the fabulous warrior that you are inside. Hence, my warrior look included knee-high polka dot socks, a big block poofy petticoat skirt, a bellydance scarf, and the piece de resistance, a big yellow feather perched on my head. You can sort of see it here (apologies for the boobage!).



It was great practice for this weekend. Our friend Todd (one of Bren's improv teachers at the Hothouse) celebrated his birthday by requesting his guests show up dressed as a resident of Neverland. Donning a perfect pair of pointy ears, Todd dressed as the chairman of Neverland, Peter Pan.



I went, ironically enough, as an Indian, whilst Bren went as a Lost Boy. And for the first time, outside of Burning Man, I really enjoyed dressing up! Plus, it makes for fabulous photos. Check 'em out.











And finally, playing dress up inevitably leads to... swashbuckling!



-x-
aarti