I like seeing people eat what I cook. Somehow that’s more relishing to me than just gulping my own stuff.
But this thing called Puttu – till sometime back, was probably my oxymoron equivalent for cooking. Easy but difficult. No two attempts get you the same result. A rice cake that’s supposed to be easy to steam & cook often ends up lumpy and hard. And never did I get a compliment.
All that’s changing today. I am rewriting history, courtesy my mom.