Dal Dhokli is a traditional dish from the Gujrat region of Western India. It is a one-pot, delicious and healthy meal. Wheat Flour and Gram Flour are mixed, seasoned with spices and kneaded into a dough. The dough is then rolled out into a medium thick roti which is then cut into strips.
The Dal cooked is a medley of flavors, spicy and tangy with a hint of sweetness and peanuts making frequent appearances. The strips of dough are cooked in this watery Dal and by the time they are done the Dal turns thick, and you have a delicious Dal Dhokli.
One of the many advantages of growing up in Bombay was the cosmopolitan neighbors and friends and a Mom who loved to learn and cook different cuisines. That was one reason we grew up eating a variety of foods. Whenever I tasted food that I liked I urged my mother to replicate the dish for me, and she did. When Mom made Dal Dhokli for the first time it was way better than the neighbor Aunty’s ,whom she had learnt it from. And now when I cook it now, Mom tells me that my Dal Dhokli is far better than hers 😀
Dal Dhokli is one of my comfort foods. A bowl of this delicious dish and a book on the side makes for the perfect meal for me. The mélange of flavors of this dish stirs up something akin in memory too, little flashbacks of my home city and home, of the innocence of childhood and the happiness that little things bought. Of my Mother cooking it and the heavenly aroma tantalizing my nostrils and taste buds, and as I relish every spoonful I walk down Nostalgia Lane again.
You know I absolutely abhor being referred to as Dear. Or Darling. Or any other term of endearment.
Honestly, it makes me feel like a Gangsters Moll! * Mona, Darling * and when you address me as such you remind me of Loin Ajit, the baddie all suited and booted in White, with a hideous ginger beard and hair.
Or, you remind me of wrinkled Aunties, enveloped in the fragrance of lavender/rose water/talcum powder who dear and darling everyone * yes, my memories associated are that detailed *
In fact, I abhor these endearments so much even my Husband has been forbidden from using them.
So you see it’s not you, it’s me!
I have such a lovely name, why wouldn’t you want to address me by that?
Or by my initial M.