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Idlis (south Indian fermented rice cakes) played havoc in my life last year and I’ll tell you how. It all began during last vacation back home when my daughter reacted strangely seeing her younger cousin carrying sambar rice to school. My mother-in-law (mil to make it short) asked her what she took for her breaks in school. My girl gave a list that included, sandwich, garlic bread, chappatis, noodles and pooris. “ What? Your mother doesn’t pack you rice, idlis and dosas?” It was mil's turn to be surprised now. She turned to me and asked “ what is this, why are you giving her all unhealthy food for school?” Call a spade a spade. That’s my mil. She is always direct and open in criticism. Rude as they may sound sometimes, her remarks have had a positive effect on me. If I am convinced there is some flaw in me I would try to rectify and implement the improvements suggested by her and would leave no stone unturned if I really got serious about them. “ Ask your grand-daughter”, was my reply now, “ she refuses to take anything else.” “No,no,no,no child you must take idlis to school. It is very good for health and filling too”. “Yes amma, I said, “I know, but my girl just hates the sight of them and finds them insipid.” “You must be using the mixie for the batter. Get a grinder, then idlis will come out like sponge soft and fluffy.” I jumped at the opportunity and urged my husband to get me a grinder. So with grinder and all we packed back to Muscat. From day one, I embarked on my venture to get my girl started with idlis. I soaked the rice and dal in my usual mixie proportion and ground them in the new grinder. Next morning I spooned out the batter in the idli moulds and let them steam in the cooker. I opened the cooker expecting to find soft and fluffy idlis but was in for disappointment. The idlis had not risen at all and were hard like stone! It was already 6.30 and the child had to leave for school. The busman honked, and having no time left, I reluctantly packed the same stuff for school. After seeing her off in the bus I confided everything to husband. “Come on! This is the problem with you. You should have checked out the right procedure? It is ok; serve the same for my breakfast. Let’s not waste it,” he said. It was a sorry sight to see hubby gulp down the stone idlis. “Rest assured the lunch box will come back untouched,” he had said as he finished. He was right! Daughter came back home fuming. “Amma what did you pack for me to eat today? Never give them again” she said and left the lunch box in the kitchen counter, loaded and untouched. Idlis were stopped for a couple of weeks. But then I wouldn’t be daunted. I was determined to find out where I went wrong and made a SOS call to my dad (asking my mil would mean accepting defeat!) asking him to guide me into making good idlis. He promptly sent me a recipe with a note that I should also carefully choose the rice and use whole urad (black gram) dal. Thanjavur idly rice should be ideal he had said. Make them in the mini idly mould I had given you last year- there was an extra tip. “Get thanjavur idli rice on your way back home”, I told hubby over the phone. “Where on earth am I going to find that”, he groused and asked some of his colleagues for help. Luckily it was available in the supermarket nearby. “Ball in your court now”, he said slumping a 5 kg bag in the kitchen Refreshed, I soaked the rice and dal again according to the new recipe praying to my favourite deity. Not to take risks, I did a trial round the previous night. The idlis came out really well this time and I heaved a sigh of relief. Now the job was to get my girl to eat them. I called her aside. “Girlie I am going to send you idlis for school tomorrow and this time they will be nice.” “Oh no amma, not again” she protested and I quite expected it. “ Now tell me why you wouldn’t have them?” I asked her. “But what is so good about that tasteless stuff?” “Good, that, I can explain. This was the right time to shell out all the information I had gathered. “First of all idli is easily digestible since it is fermented and does not irritate your stomach since it is a steamed food. It is ideal as a breakfast. In fermented food nutrients such as vitamin C, folic acid ect are increased and Iron becomes easily absorbable. All these are good for general health and metabolism. Idli is also one of those preparations that can go with a variety of accompaniments right from sugar to sambar (tamarind and lentil preparation), chutney, molagapodi (spiced chilly powder with grams) and kuruma (gravy made with vegetables).” This discourse seemed to convince her to give it another try. But then she had a condition. “ I will take idlis only once a week and only if you send me some chips to go with.' Wonder how chips come in the mind of children first when they think of eatables. “But chips won’t go with idli.” “ No I do not want chips to go along with idli. I want to eat themt after I consume that stupid stuff because I don’t like that taste lingering in my mouth.” Exasperated, I agreed, at least she was willing to try. “Very well, but mind you if you do not eat up the whole thing I will cut down on your chips completely.” I do not know if it was this threat or the lecture I gave, she had eaten them this time. But the battle was still not over. Next week when it was turn for idli, I again took special care to see that it came out well. I made them in the mini idli mould from now on. As my girl stuffed the lunch box into her bag with a sullen expression, I called out to hubby and asked him to give some small change for buying chips. “ What chips for school? Does she not have enough of it already that you are encouraging her to buy it from school?” “ Well”, I faltered and then with some anger replied, “your darling daughter will have idlis if only there are chips too” He reluctantly handed out the coins. But he must have given a piece of his mind while bringing her back from school and the effect was something I had not expected. She shoved a blank sheet into my hands and demanded that I should sign at the bottom where she had indicated as ‘signature’. “What’s this?” I asked her. “Sign it”, she demanded. “But baby you are not supposed to force someone to sign a blank paper.” “Ok I shall give the matter. But you must sign. Ok? Word?” “Let’s see”. She came back with what she called an agreement. 'Sign it' she said, producing it with a flourish. It read To Dear Amma I do not want to put on weight. I know I will grow fat if I eat chips. If you send money for me to buy chips, there are 2 disadvantages. a) I will become fat. b) You will be wasting money. So do not send idlis to school which are so tasteless. That is why I feel like eating chips after I eat them. Please sign this agreement, not because I do not like idlis but because of the 2 disadvantages. Your hopeful loving daughter Chella kutti Agree / not agree signature --------. Whatever her intentions, I was amazed with her sense of humour. I laughed heartily, “that’s a nice piece baby, let me file it along with my collections”, I said putting it into the folder. She also started laughing but reminded that I had not signed it. “That I would not, I said firmly as I laid out the lunch for her.” “Sheesh! amma “she grumbled, “all my troubles are in vain.” “ And what about my troubles trying to make you like idlis? Ok fine. You’re right, lets not have chips on the idli days. I think it is the sugar that is making you dislike idlis. Try themt with molagapodi for a change”. “Oh no!” she said and got busy with her lunch. In the evening husband came back with some master plan. “ Make idlis, and serve sambar with them,” he said peeping into the kitchen and then went straight to his daughter. “ Come Chella kutti, we will have the evening brunch together,” he said pulling her to the table. “ Hey give Chella kuttli also idlis and sambhar,” he said to me with a wink. As I served his menu, the girl was twisting and turning on her seat. “Appa”, she said slowly, “I do not like that sambar stuff. Let me have some milk. I will come back from play and have idlis for dinner”. Hubby slurped a spoonful of sambar from his plate and said “ yumm. Amma has made it very well today, just try it”, he extended another spoonful to the girl. “Yuuk, it smells so odd.” “ Child sambar is very good for health. There are vegetables in it and pulses so rich in protein,” he said. “But I do take dal pa, with chappatis and sometimes with rice too. That too has protein right. I don’t like this sambhar.” “Ok then give her molagapodi” he said but she was already wearing her slippers and scampering away to play. “ I’ll have it in the night pa”, she said trying to sound apologetic as she closed the door behind her. “We will try some other time”, I said as we cleared the table. A few more weeks passed by. I tried yet another option. I made the mini idlis, toasted them with some ghee on the tawa and quietely sprinkled some molagapodi on top and packed the lunch box. It worked! “ Amma, the idlis were nice today, what did you do?” she asked eagerly as she put the empty box for wash that day. I heaved a sigh of relief. My mothers’ instinct told me that there should be no problems with idlis now. “Nothing, I just gave you idlis with molagappodi,” I replied. “Oh, then I like molagappodi, give me the same thing next time,” she said “and may be I can skip the chips.” “ Good girl”. Next time I omitted the toasting and still it worked. Came holidays again and it was time for me to flaunt my achievement to mil. We reached home one early morning. After the exchange of endearments, grandma asked what the grandchild would have for breakfast. “ Idli with molagappodi”, came promptly the reply. “Good you listened to grandma then”, mil said patting my daughter and turning to me said, “at last you did manage to get her to eat idlis!” I beamed. My stars were lucky. “Ask your son all that we had to undergo to achieve this.” Hubby flashed his usual tricky grin to avoid explanations. Mil kept a close watch on the grand daughter as usual. She had done all the bringing up of my girl till we came to Muscat and it is but natural that she is so much concerned. As I wondered what was coming this time, “Your daughter does not like our south Indian cooking. You have spoilt her with too much of your masala ginger garlic cooking”, came in her comment. “She must get used to our sambar and rasam.” This was her major complaint this time. Even on the parting day she was coaxing my girl to develop a taste for south Indian dishes. She kept telling me that I must give her sambar and rasam. “Give sambar with idlis, now that she has come to like them”, she said, as I lugged my baggage into the car. Hubby sensed the languor in my tone as I replied “yes amma” to mil. He flashed his famous grin and waved out to his mom as the car moved away. “So what was amma’s parting advice?’ he asked when the flight had taken off. “ That I should get your daughter to relish south Indian food, give sambar with idlis” I said, looking squarely into his eyes. “Sequel to your saga eh?” he chuckled. “Thank you, if there will be a sequel, it will be your saga and not mine”, I cut in and peered into the Duty Free. From the corner of my eyes I could see an impish smile on his face. He was enjoying my discomfort. He knew as well as I did that the saga will be mine, all the same.

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