The Case Of Carrot Halwa And Cutlets

The case of the Vanishing Carrot Halwa.

My wife brought some juicy carrots yesterday from the nearby veggie shop. What will she cook, with these veggies, I wondered.

It was breakfast time next day. Will she whip up a hot vegetable stew, or a yummy stir fry, I wondered.

She cleaned up the carrots real good, cut and shredded them all up, and piled them in our old cooker. In went some sweet jaggery, and Indian spices, and she let it cook. After a few whistles, the flavour of the cooked carrots, jaggery and spices began wafting around. She switched off the gas and let the concoction cool a bit.

See if it tastes good, she directed me. Afterall, I was the official taster at home. Tastes nice, I said, but it's a bit too sweet for us diabetics. She added some powdered cashew and badaams. Should be fine now, said she. She let it cool a bit again. I repeated the tasting part. It's still sweet, I said. Into the mixture went some milk and a wee bit of semolina, and then it tasted better from a diabetics standpoint.

You can have it after lunch as a dessert, she told me, sensing my impatience to eat it.

By now it was eleven in the morning. All of a sudden some cousins dropped in , totally un announced. It was a happy reunion though. It was usual for the kids to go to the kitchen and see what auntyji had cooked for the day, or open the fridge and search for chocolates and icecream which they are sure to find.

Soon, Then they found the pan of carrot halwa waiting, and mopped it all up. So tasty they commented, making my wife happy.

And, to cut a long story short, the carrot halwa I was hoping to have as desert vanished without a trace!

I was left staring at the empty pot. My wife smiled wryly at me and said, don't worry, I can make it again. You scored brownie points today by making the kids happy, didn't you? That's what matters.

The case of the vanishing carrot halwa, I thought quietly.