I Missed an Issue: Apologies — and a Sneak Preview!
Next week: My complicated relationship with meat
This past week has been a whir. A week of pondering, applying for some (secret!) opportunities, musing about making my tiramisu debut, reading a memoir — and suffering guilt. Given as I am to daydreaming, pondering comes reflexively to me. I have been pondering the subject of the following post of Tadka Tales. I homed in on a topic: The recipe of a melt-in-the-mouth preparation of mutton my mother left behind. But while thinking of testing and perfecting it, buying ingredients, and (almost) defrosting it, I felt the week slipping through my fingers. I had the goal of bi-weekly posts in sight; however, even as I prepared to tackle it, time just became a wisp of smoke and disappeared. Apologies. But as I pondered the meat recipe, I ruminated my complicated relationship with meat. More about that next week.
This past week, I procrastinated (cook’s block?) attempting my first tiramisu. I had promised my daughter that I would prepare a version more fulfilling than the one we ate at a food festival in Kolkata a month ago. I have had an unopened tub of mascarpone for a couple of months (How long does it keep well in the refrigerator?). I put off the plan, filling my daughter with despair. With resignation in her voice, she said: “You will never make it.” I try to keep her hope alive.
I have been reading about a mother-daughter relationship in Michelle Zauner’s “Crying in H Mart,” an excellent memoir of wistfulness and grief full of Korean food descriptions. I find in the book inspiration for my own memoir, which I am planning (yes planning!) to pitch to agents. The draft of a proposal is ready.
Next week, be ready to read about the wonderful mutton preparation my mother loved before she abandoned meat after my dad’s demise. A lot of Indian widows of an earlier generation abjure meat after their husbands die.
The goat meat I am going to cook is secure in the freezer. Hope you will like to read about my complicated relationship with meat and the falling-off-the-bone deliciousness of my mother’s fried mutton.
Until then, have a great week.