2019: Three Hundred and Forty Five

I went to bed last night with food-dreams. I craved for some food I hadn’t experienced in some time, a flavour profile that was familiar, but distant in memory, and time, and space. I am privileged and fortunate to get good, home-cooked food everyday when I’m on break, and lucky that my parents take me out from time-to-time, so I wasn’t sure what brought this on (it was a food video I watched that reminded me about Taco Bell). I craved Mexican food. But I didn’t want anything except Taco Bell or Chipotle, neither of which operate in the city where I am at present. The next best thing, I felt, was to make my own Mexican food. So I pleaded that we soak some kidney beans (of course), and went to sleep cooking up my own concoctions. Literally. I told my mom I’d tell her what I wanted to do with rajma once I woke up.

Cut to this morning. I enter the kitchen and see the rajma she soaked. I know we have a capsicum in the fridge. I know we have spreadable cheese. And I know we have sauce stuff. I also know we have rice. Of course my brain thought about making some good wraps. With Mexican flavours. My mum’s a master at this. She cooked this amazing wrap for me in Grade 12, during my board exam study holidays, which I ploughed through.

All I wanted was to taste a Tejas variant of that same wrap.

Then I saw the quantity of rajma we had soaked. And I knew it was way too much for wraps. I still craved some awesome, distant-flavour-profile food though. So I thought I’d make some rajma masala with jeera rice for the parents (and for myself). A few hours later, and we’ve belted it for dinner.

This was a very satisfying day.

I still crave Taco Bell though. Soon.

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