It seemed that a pot of dal was always simmering on a back burner of my father’s stove. For him, it was the equivalent of fast food because paired with the also-ever-present pot of white rice, it was a quick, hearty, and nourishing meal. Thus dal and rice is one of my first taste-memories. I recall standing by my father’s side with my mouth wide open like a baby bird waiting to taste what was on his plate. He often ate with his hands in the traditional Indian way. Using his fingers as a scoop he pushed the food inside my mouth. I remember enjoying the creaminess of the dal with a hint of garlic which he had pureed using an egg beater. These days I use a stick-blender or food processor to the same effect.
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