Tejal Rao's Khichdi

Thank you all very much for the commiseration on the loss of my digital photos and manuscript. I have spent a week licking my wounds and I am starting to feel better. The truth is, I already feel deeply oppressed by the masses of photos that clog every device I own. The sudden loss of thousands when I have so many more to deal with might be kind of a blessing? That's how I've decided I'm going to look at it. As for the manuscript, I had a big realization this fall that I wasn't happy with the existing structure of the book. I decided to change it substantially, but the only way to do that was to start over. So the fact that I lost those few weeks of summer work is annoying (and stupid), but I probably was going to trash those pages anyway. (The fact that I still don't have the kind of childcare that allows me to get started on draft three IS kind of the end of the world, but let's not dwell on that or I'll pull my hair out.)

After two months of lockdown, Hugo returned to in-person instruction this week. It's a very limited kind of school, just 2 1/2 hours daily, fully masked with only half his class. But it is school and it is not in my house and I am exceedingly grateful even just for this. Bruno, however, isn't allowed to return to Kita yet, so I actually have less time than I did before, because as everyone with multiple children knows, the child who only knows life with a sibling, when suddenly left alone without the sibling, is a lot more work. I am doing my best to keep my exasperation at the entire situation at bay, but sometimes, yes, I want to scream into a pillow. Or from the balcony, like a diva being murdered at La Scala.

Lunchtime still rolls around every day like an unwelcome flea-bitten guest. Except now the lunch hour is interrupted by me having to get in the car and drive an hour round-trip to pick Hugo up from school. He doesn't get a school lunch, so he's grumpy as hell at pickup. At home, he either eats leftovers from our lunch or I scramble him some eggs and butter some toast. As much as the daily meal prep drives me up the wall, I feel lucky that the act of cooking still brings me satisfaction. And Bruno is very understanding about lunchtime. While I cook, he comes and keeps me company in the kitchen, drawing pictures or staring into my pots, and it is a fleeting moment of the kind of quiet beauty you used to believe motherhood was full of until you actually became a mother and realized it was mostly a whole lot of everything else.

Anyway.

My kingdom for comforting one-pot meals, like this absolutely delicious khichdi from Tejal Rao. It is a doddle to make—just bang rice and split yellow moong beans and spices into a pot together, then let time and steam do their work—but produces the most fragrant, wonderful and spicy one-pot meal. You complete it with some hot Indian pickle (we're obsessed with my friend Kavita's homemade garlic achar, but any Indian pickle will do) and an extremely necessary pool of cool yogurt. Sometimes, if I'm feeling fancy, I doctor that pool of yogurt with salt and ground cumin and a grated Persian cucumber. Sometimes, I just dollop a spoonful on each plate. Khichdi is the kind of food that bolsters you, makes you feel just a bit more settled than you were before you ate it. Just the thing for these unsettling days.

Tejal Rao's Khichdi
Serves 3 to 4
Note: If you are cooking for small children, leave the chile powder out of the khichdi and just add it to your plate, but be careful, it's easy to overdo.
Print this recipe!

cup long-grain white rice, such as jasmine
cup yellow split moong beans
2 tablespoons ghee
½ teaspoon mustard seeds
1 small cinnamon stick
2 green cardamom pods
2 whole cloves
1 sprig curry leaves (optional)
¼ teaspoon red chile powder
¼ teaspoon turmeric powder
½ teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste

1. Combine the rice and beans and rinse several times. Drain and place in a heavy-bottomed pot with 1 3/4 cups water, and set over medium-high heat.

2. In another small saucepan, heat the ghee and mustard seeds. When the seeds start to pop, lower the heat and add the remaining ingredients, swirling them in the pan. Let the spices sizzle for under a minute, then carefully pour into the rice pot, along with the ghee. (Careful: The fat may splatter).

3. When the water comes up to a rolling boil, give it a good stir, scraping at the bottom of the pot, then cover tightly and turn the heat down to low. Cook for 15 minutes, then turn off the heat and let the rice rest for 10 minutes before opening the lid. Fluff gently with a spatula. Taste, season with salt to taste and serve.

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8 responses to “Tejal Rao’s Khichdi”

  1. Ellen Avatar
    Ellen

    I commiserate! Also, I wanted to thank you for the broccoli recipe you recently posted. The flavors reminded me of the laab at a favorite Thai restaurant (in a city where we lived a decade ago)…

    Like

  2. Sarah Avatar
    Sarah

    This line! This line speaks to my soul: “While I cook, he comes and keeps me company in the kitchen, drawing pictures or staring into my pots, and it is a fleeting moment of the kind of quiet beauty you used to believe motherhood was full of until you actually became a mother and realized it was mostly a whole lot of everything else.”
    Can’t wait to make this, because, boy could I use feeling a bit more settled. Thank you for this — those words that are a more beautiful and succinct version of a feeling bouncing around in my head, and for recipes that I always immediately throw onto our meal plan.

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  3. Chrissy Avatar
    Chrissy

    Oh my goodness I’m so sorry you lost all that! A few years ago I accidentally deleted over a thousand emails and I lost it. Screaming and crying for like 2 hours. It was probably stupid but it was a BAD time in life to lose something like that. Lost all of my pictures from the last 10 years on another laptop. Pics of Egypt, Israel, Europe, India.. ALL. GONE. Technology, well she’s just a BITCH.I also didn’t know you’re writing another book!!! MBK is one of my all time favorites and I hold your beautiful, scrumptiously descriptive style of writing with as much esteem as Laura Ingalls Wilder and LM Montgomery. I literally want to eat your words. Can’t wait for it to come out and hope things get easier for you soon ❤️ Hey, at least Donnie’s gone 😁

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  4. Emily Avatar
    Emily

    I couldn’t agree more. That line just kind of slaps you and hugs you at the same time. I feel so seen!

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  5. Francesca Avatar
    Francesca

    You sound much better this week. Hang in there. Vaccinations are coming our way. I look forward to reading your novel, as I do your posts, whenever it releases. Thank you for the recipe suggestions. Take care.

    Like

  6. Purnima Avatar
    Purnima

    One of these days when you’re feeling fancy and want to doctor up that yogurt to make raita, I have a suggestion for you. Once you grate your Persian cucumber, flip the box grater to the side with small holes, and grate a little wedge of raw red onion to add to the mix. It’s subtle, but it’s absolute magic. You’re welcome! 🙂

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  7. Rosalie Avatar
    Rosalie

    Yes!!! This line is so relatable and describes my experience with parenting so well.

    Like

  8. Annette Avatar
    Annette

    I love Tejal Rao’s khichdi so much – I eat it with homemade chutney alongside the yoghurt. Last year, when it was impossible to get basmati or jasmin rice, I found that this works beautifully with risotto rice, too, and I’ve been making it that way ever since. Also, since I am on a quest to reduce the number of different pastas, kinds of rice and legumes in my pantry (things were getting out of hand), I have used red lentils instead of the moong beans. Works great!
    (I have been thnking of you because two days ago, I mistook the regular email folder for the trash basket and accidentally deleted everything – thousands of mails. Like you say, after the initial shock it is oddly freeing.)

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