Rasam Escapade.

Rasam.... the very word brings such lovely memories, the hot peppery taste with a blend of tomatoes and lentils, garnished with fresh curry  and coriander leaves , tempered with mustard and asafoetida in clarified butter. The heady smell of asafoetida adds to the flavour of the rasam.

I remember the first time I prepared this dish with disastrous results. 21 years ago, Year 1995, Age 20, newly married, an ordinary cook. My spouse a typical Iyer “Mama” who loved his sambar, rasam and rice....now what? The story begins from here my friends. New kitchen, I thought of making simple dal, chawal, roti, sabzi... “Can you make Rasam?” asked Ram...whoa what? Rasam? How? Why? I simply stood rooted to the ground and looked absolutely blank, Rasam? How do I make it? I managed to nod my head and walked back to the kitchen, shelving the romantic thoughts of Dal, Chawal, roti and sabzi. I had a hazy memory of my mother making this dish with Sambar powder, but my mom in law made it rather differently. Her Rasam had a reddish tinge with succulent tomatoes floating in it, tempered with asafoetida and mustard seeds... How to get that red colour? I took out few Red chillies (20), a tablespoon of pepper corns and some cumin, roasted them and ground them well and good...out came the vessel, cut two juicy tomatoes added tamarind water and set upon making the dish. The dish looked fiery and had a pungent smell, which wasn’t there when my mom- in- law prepared it. Shrugging away that niggling doubt, I proudly presented the dish to my husband who looked at it rather dubiously. “What’s this?” he asked. Rasam I replied.

“Doesn’t look like it”.

“I made it just the way your mom makes it Ram”. Not wanting to disappoint me he took two ladles of Rasam and mixed it with rice, had a mouthful and froze.

His face turned red, saw his ears turning a deeper shade of red...wow !!he looked like a red goblin and his eyes  literally popped out of their sockets...sum of all disasters = RED RASAM.... he rushed to the washroom. I was absolutely petrified and stood there wringing my hands and crying at the same time, unable to do anything. When he could speak, his first question was “what in the heavens name was that?” “Rasam” I replied.

“It was more like a liquid time bomb” he said. I was awfully shaken after that disastrous adventure, but I didn’t give up hope. Gradually under the guidance of my mother in law I excelled in making this dish.

Like the saying goes “where there’s a will there’s a way” the same way each experience is learning and each failure is a stepping stone to success.