Mutterings*

Well it's been a pretty good month,  folks. The second month of 2014 already gone by. Eyes and arms wide open for March. Need to prioritise and be more productive next month. Time is too short. Let's do it!

This is a customized version of a recipe originally discovered in a kids cook book in my childhood. Since then, I've been able to experiment with various ingredients and this is one variation of the home made meatballs and really is quite yummy. I urge you to give it a shot, really it's so very easy.  For the meatballs, you will need - Minced chicken or beef (meat of your choice, i've used sausages minced as a kid) Slices of bread cut in to tiny pieces Milk (1/4 cup) or as needed Olive oil as needed (vegetable is fine too) A bit of curry powder Chillie powder Salt Pepper Onions chopped Mix in a bowl and roll in to a dozen or so small balls,  similar to when we make cutlets. Fry them in low heat till they seem crispy and well cooked. Pasta sauce and spaghetti Mix with tomatoe puree/ tomatoes blended/ pasta sauce if you have it - in a seperate pan,  add necessary spices and let it simmer until the sauce gets thick. I added mushrooms, curry

It's been a while since I last made kottu. It only takes a few ingredients. Quite messy though.  You can even make elawalu rotti, if you're in the mood by following the instructions here . Basically, you start with making the godamba rotti, and then cutting it in to pieces Stir fry ingredients as you please - I used chicken, eggs,carrot, onion leaves and onions and chopped carrots Mix everything together. Voila!  Just like that, you have your own home made kottu rotti. Find a p revious kottu post here as well . 

She doesn't care for appearances, having just woken up from her sleep. Dazed. Confused by reality when it sunk in, different from her emotions a few seconds ago in her dream. She switches the computer on, trembling. Dialing a number she had been told not to call anymore. "Hello." Cold, nothing there.  "Are we done?" .."yes."  "But we kissed in my dream and it was real" (Tell me you don't love me to my face, you coward.) Silence. So that's it. Months of anguish and naivety, years of friendship and trust.   She plays the same hindi song over and over and over again, letting the tears, finally flow freely down her face. She hates hindi movies, especially the one this one is from, after she finds out the plot. She has no clue what those words are saying. Not that she cares, for someone who is big on lyrics and meaning. Over and over and over again, on a loop.  Years later, she still can't listen to tha