finding comfort in a bowl of rice

It was late on Sunday afternoon and I had just gotten home from working at the café. My legs were heavy and aching. My belly was empty and my mind exhausted. I was totally counting on my German to whip us up some dinner so that I didn’t have to think, move or do anything. No such luck. He too had been at work all weekend and got called back in only fifteen minutes after I got home. With the German gone I had to fend for myself in the dinner department. With an empty head and an even emptier stomach the only thing I seemed to be able to focus on was an alarming craving for rice. See, I was raised on rice. Rice is my ultimate comfort food. Ok, ok, ok, a lot of things are my ultimate comfort food, but rice really is way up there on the list. I can eat bowl after bowl of plain rice. For breakfast, lunch, and dinner. On the same day. My brother is not so different. As a child, he went through a phase where he refused to eat anything else but rice. And ketchup.

But let’s be clear. Rice is not just rice. It is a very specific type of rice. I almost always use basmati rice. Unless I have managed to make off with a bag or two of the incredibly fragrant and tasty jasmine rice my parents buy. So delicious. Rice is, under no circumstances, Uncle Ben’s. I have nightmares about that plasticky, pellet-like, parboiled rice that fails to stick together, rendering chopsticks useless.  My brother has his own rice-nightmares. He was once faced with boil-in-a-bag rice. His overwhelming suspicion of the single portion bags that emerged out of a cardboard box and the distinct lack of an alternative resulted in his cutting open the bags and washing the rice hard before he was prepared to cook it. He just couldn’t trust it.

Whichever rice I’m using, it gets washed three times before it lands in the pot. I have never measured rice and water in grams or litres. I have no idea how much water 200g of rice needs. I was always taught to fill the water one finger width above the rice. This has always worked for me. Likewise, I have no idea how to cook rice on an electric stove. I know how big or little the flame needs to be on a gas cooker, but have no way of translating this for anyone. It’s a little flame. Not too little, not too big. The lid goes on and the pot gets left alone. There is no stirring the rice. No changing the temperature. There has been many an occasion where a poor, unsuspecting guest in my kitchen has been growled at when trying to “help” with the rice. And there is most certainly no straining any excess fluid or rinsing the cooked rice under water. Done right, the water will have evaporated leaving you with only fluffy, white rice in the pot. Oh, and there is absolutely no salt, butter, oil or whatever else. Just rice and water.

When the German and I moved in together, I remember wrinkling my nose at the electric stove top and complaining that I would never be able to cook rice in this kitchen. Knowing how neurotic I am about my rice, my most faithful and understanding German promptly went out and bought me a rice cooker. After all, no self-respecting half-Asian kitchen is without one. I remember the chaos that broke out at my parents when my mother discovered her rice cooker had gone missing (they too have an electric stove top) – burnt and soggy rice all around. It was devastating.

So on this Sunday, I had a hankering for some rice. But that was the extent of what my brain was capable of dealing with. The sink was still full of dishes and I couldn’t bear the thought of having to clean up before making anything else to go with my rice. Whenever this happens, I have a go-to rice recipe by the lovely Madhur Jaffrey that is an absolute godsend. Basmati rice with lentils. Yes, I know that this totally contradicts my “no salt, no oil, no etc”, “I never measure”, and the whole “I can’t cook rice on an electric stove” but this really is the only exception to the rule. It’s super-easy, super-delicious and requires no thinking whatsoever. Oh and you only dirty up one pan. Bonus.

Basmati Rice with Lentils

• A 120ml measure/90g lentils
• A 475ml measure/360g basmati rice
• 3 tablespoons olive or rapeseed oil
• A couple of cinnamon stick shards
• 8 cardamom pods
• 2 bay leaves
• ½ an onion, sliced into thin, half rings
• 1 ½ teaspoon salt
• 700ml water

A few notes first off. The recipe calls for brown or green lentils, but I always use red ones since I’m lazy and they don’t need to be soaked. Measuring the rice and the lentils are easiest in one of those little measuring cups with the lines on the side, instead of getting out kitchen scales, but I’ve given gram measurements as well. Also, it might seem nitpicky but a tight-fitting lid for the pan you are using is essential. Otherwise you end up with fluffy rice and lentils on the bottom and crunchy ones on top. The tighter the lid, the more even everything cooks.

1  Wash the rice with cold water (three times!) and leave to drain over a bowl or the sink.

2  Heat the oil in a heavy-based pan over a medium-high heat. Once hot, add the cardamom, cinnamon and bay leaves to the pan, stirring them into the oil. Add the thin, onion slices to the spiced oil and fry until the onion softens and starts to colour.

3  Add the lentils, rice and salt to the pan. Reduce the heat to medium and sauté gently for a minute or two before adding 700ml of water. Bring to the boil, cover with a tight-fitting lid, reduce the heat to very, very, low and let it cook gently for 25 minutes.