Me: Why did you have to make this?
She: Why not?
Me: Don't we have anything else at home?
She: We do, but I need to use these up as well.
Me: So make this after you've used up everything else.
She: What's wrong with now?
Me: Nothing's wrong. I just don't feel like eating this.
She: You never feel like eating this.
Me: But I'm not a picky eater and I eat everything.
She: Doesn't look like that to me.
Me: I do eat this without complaining, don't I?
She: What do you think you're doing just now?
Me: OK. Bu when I have my own kitchen, I won't cook this stuff. Ewwwwww!
She: We'll see.
Me. Yeah, we'll see.
No points for guessing who "She" is. We've had the most arguments about food and my eating habits. I would eat everything she made and would clean up my plate. I would even take second helpings. All because I didn't want to break her heart or have her worry about what to cook. And all in the name of "it must be good for me if she says so".
Avarekkai or broad beans must be an acquired taste. Sold locally as Sem, I have not seen this vegetable very often, even in summer. But the one time that I did find it, I brought it home. Despite the soft memory of that conversation above, I set out to make this with some rice and sambar. I suppose I have finally acquired the taste for this vegetable, or I have simply grown up. Because I didn't find it half as disgusting as I did before. Wait, I didn't find it disgusting at all. I would buy it and make it again if I find this in the market.
1/4 kg Avarekkai, chopped finely
1 tsp Oil
1/4 tsp Urad Dal
1/4 tsp Chana Dal
1/4 tsp Mustard Seeds
2 Red Chillies
1/4 tsp Asafoetida
1 tbsp Coconut, scraped
7-8 Curry Leaves
Salt to taste
Heat oil in a pressure pan. Add the urad and chana dals, mustard seeds and asafoetida. When the mustard splutters, add the curry leaves and the red chillies. Fry for a minute. Add the avarekkai and the salt. Sprinkle a little water. Cover and pressure cook for 1-2 whistles. When done, add the coconut and mix well. Serve as a side dish with rice and Sambar.