I sit on the welcoming red oxide floor of Grandma’s bedroom, the windows overlooking the verdant garden open and a quarrel of garrulous sparrows flying in and out chasing each other silly, a black stone bowl in front of me full of khoi (popped rice).
Grandma loves her khoi.
I am all of seven or eight, fast developing my likes and dislikes and find khoi bland. Like water. It just has no taste, I convince myself yet again.
I fidget around. Scheming how not to eat the khoi.
I stick the khoi into my mouth, as many grains as I can possibly fit in, one half of each grain protruding out almost ominously (or so I think), the other half cleverly hidden inside my mouth.
I am an ogre now. I chuckle. The fiendish kind that preys on naughty children who don’t listen to their parents.
I run to Grandma’s tall mirror to have a close look at my reincarnated avatar.
I am delighted at the devil I see.
No wasting food, Grandma’s voice rings out. As I stand admiring my own self, busy adjusting my khoi-teeth in an attempt to look even more sinister. Come here and finish this off.
I am too obsessed to even listen.
See what I am doing here. Grandma invokes my curiosity.
I turn around to see Grandma rubbing the khoi on her palm. Almost emphatically.
She gently raises her palm to her nose, closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. The smell of the earth. She ruminates. Redolent of the new winter harvest. Caressed with morning dew.
She now walks over to me and holds her cupped palm to my nose.
What do you smell my Princess ? She quizzes.
Keen to impress Grandma, I take a deep breath. And then a second one.
I do get a faint fragrance. Just a whiff though. Or is it just my imagination playing truant ? I do not know for sure.
This is a blessing of Mother Earth. Grandma continues. In a voice that’s uncharacteristically stark. Never disrespect food.
And she leaves the room.
My eyes swell with tears as I mix my khoi with grated coconut and chillies for my khoi er bora this afternoon.
Khoi er bora. The earthiness of fragrant winter khoi. The sublime sweetness of grated coconut. The meanness of chilies. Mashed. Deep fried to a gorgeous golden.
Outside the season’s first showers beckon.
Khoi er Bora (Popped Rice Fritters)
Ingredients
- 2 cup Khoi or Popped Rice
- 1 cup coconut freshly grated
- 2-3 green chilies finely chopped
- 2-3 tbsp rice flour
- salt to taste
- oil for frying
Instructions
- Take the khoi in a bowl. Add the chopped green chilies, freshly grated coconut and the rice flour. Mix well.
- Splash water to the khoi, in little increments, and try to mash the mix with your fingers till it is just sticky enough to form a soft dough ball as shown in the picture.
- Heat oil and deep fry the khoi dough balls till they are a gorgeous golden. Keep on a kitchen absorbent towel to soak the extra oil.
- Serve hot with kasundi.
I wanted to check the recipe, as I saw you Instagram post when I just opened it now and in hidden corner, I thought something familiar! Curiously I expanded it to see what I thought it was and it was what I thought to be! Araloo ( that’s what we call it !) nostalgic and memories with it! And was curious to know what you have done with it? That’s something new to me and I am definitely going to try as fortunately I brought some from India for Krishna Janmashtami festival !!
@Jayasri, food is all about nostalgia and memories. Isn’t it? This is an age Bengali old classic. I’m sure you will like this. Do let me know.
You can even add finely chopped onions if you want 🙂
@Rama Foods all about nostalgia isnt it ?
Im always amazed at the words you select to describe your chuldhood. Respect !!
As usual beautiful story woven from your childhood memories ☺. New recipe for me. Will try for sure . Thank you
Thanks @Priyakshi. Let me know if you like it 🙂
1. What an unusual recipe that is.
2. Your description of that childhood moment..just beautiful
@Nandita Thank you 🙂 thank you 🙂 this is one of those ancient Bengali recipes almost forgotten. And needless speaking tastes divine !!!