All that Fit For Fritters!
Laziness has no bounds on weekends, in our house.
The bucket load of laundry that bear the evidence of the week’s hard work, another basket load, patiently waiting for their turn to be folded and tucked away, the embarrassingly sticky floors that are in desperate need of mopping, the sink, dishes, cups and other kitchen paraphernalia that are begging to be scrubbed and restored to their prior shining glory — nothing — nothing could change my mind, as I firmly decided to spend the day by putting my feet up – both literally and figuratively.
Nothing could change my mind — or so I thought! No sooner did I sit and snuggle with my boys to watch “Phinehas and Ferb” for the tenth time this week, than I heard that ‘ding.’ That welcoming ‘whatsapp’ ding. My Aunt, whom we dearly call, “Seetha Atta” (‘Atta’ meaning Aunt in my native language) who is well into her 70’s has made fritters for evening snack, an act, that ‘inspired’ (quotes so as to quote) my cousin/aunt(Don’t ask…it’s complicated!), whom we lovingly call, Sailu Pinni (‘Pinni’ refers to Mom’s younger sister in my native tongue), to make the same.
This chain reaction of inspiration was formidable for my family’s gastronomical demands. My husband, who by now gave me all the hints he could think of, sent the message which he thought was subtle, but I heard loud and clear. I wish I can blame him totally. But Bajji’s were calling my name too!
It did not take as long as I dreaded. With an attitude of gratitude towards the garden, which sourced all the vegetables I needed to make bajjis, I bribed my boys (and myself too) to go pick a myriad of “bajji-worthy” veggies. Peppers of different kinds – green, serano, banana and bell, and green tomatoes were quickly picked and slit and sliced.
Batter, consisting of chick pea flour and spices was swiftly whisked and set aside; waiting for the vegetables to come and soak their sun-kissed selves.
Sliced onions made their appearance too, so as to use up any left over batter. A quick peanut based stuffing, the formula of which was shared by my Mom, added that extra oomph especially to the serano pepper bajjis.
As oil sizzled, the bajjis went in one by one and within no time, a plate of hot, spicy, fried deliciousness was served up.
The boys too, set aside their spice-based discrimination and quickly gobbled up even the spicy pepper bajjis. I intended to put my feet up today. But I put it down and yelled, “Leave my share of bajjis alone!” from the kitchen!