You are all sworn to secrecy, my reputation depends upon it. According to that sage British author, Samuel Johnson, (1709-1784), the idea that I can share such news and expect silence on your part is doomed from the start. He advises, “To keep your secret is wisdom; but to expect others to keep it is folly. “Then to further clarify he goes on to say, “The vanity of being known to be trusted with a secret is generally one of the chief motives to disclose it. ”
I don’t know who said “Some days you eat the bear, some days the bear eats you.”, probably Daniel Boone. Yesterday, the bear won. Even though I was crabby and achy,I managed to prepare a memorable meal. Memorable, yup, that is a good description. I don’t know what happened but except for the papaya/banana fruit salad, it was a flop.
First there were the chapatis, normally, I just use whole wheat flour tortillas. Easy-peasy, tasty and cheap. Yesterday, I decided to make cabbage-chili flat breads to accompany the dal. To quote proverbs “Pride goeth before the fall”. From the very beginning,it didn’t go well. The dough was very wet, so wet, that I ended up adding twice as much flour as the recipe called for. Being a glass half full sort of gal, I divided the dough in half to freeze some for later. I felt good about that idea, instant chapatis! Brilliant! Using a tortilla keeper for the hot off the griddle flat breads was also a good idea. Unfortunately, the breads did not merit either. They were fairly tasteless except for little bursts of sharp pungent cabbage or chile shreds.
Incredibly, the dal was even worse. It smelled so good, red beans and urad dal combined in a sauce enriched with cream and yogurt. I should have stopped there. I could have made Dal Makhani. Instead, eggplant and tomatoes were simmered in the dal until soft. Finally, onions caramelized in oil fragrant with mustard seed and cumin topped the completed stew. Where did the flavor go? Combined with the chewy chapatis, this was one of my more memorable meals. Husband suggested that we eat the left over saag panir but after I handed him back his head, he meekly ate his dinner. He didn’t deserve my outburst, I think he was in so much shock that he couldn’t taste the food, not that there was much there to taste.
I think I have a head cold, so I can’t taste anything. If you can’t smell, you can’t taste. Speaking of taste, neither the tomatoes nor the eggplants had any.
Looking on the bright side, none of you will tell anyone about this fiasco, right? My reputation as a good cook is safe? Right?
The yogurt turned out just fine by the way, but probably because it wasn’t part of the meal.