21‘When I go home,
I eat ungodly
amounts of
it because it is
so addictive
and delicious.’1 teaspoon cumin seeds
1 to 2 teaspoons granulated sugar
1 to 2 tablespoons freshly squeezed
lemon juice
2 tablespoons roughly chopped cilantro,
for garnish- Place tapioca in a large bowl, and
cover with water. Swirl to release
starch, then drain. Repeat a few times
until water runs mostly clear, then
drain well. Return tapioca to bowl, along
with ¾ cup water. Soak for 4 to 5
hours, or until water is mostly absorbed
and tapioca pearls are easily squashed
when pressed between your thumb and
forefinger. Drain well, and place
into a large microwave-safe bowl. - Place whole potatoes in a small pot,
and cover with water. Season generously
with salt, and set over high heat. Bring
to a boil, then reduce to a simmer, and cook
until completely tender, about 25 to 35
minutes depending on size. Remove potatoes
from water, and allow to cool, then peel,
and dice into ½-inch cubes. Add to tapioca. - Set a frying pan over medium heat, and
add peanuts. Swirling constantly, toast
them until shiny, aromatic and golden brown,
about 4 minutes. Pour immediately onto
a plate to prevent overcooking. Wipe pan,
and return to stove. - In a food processor, pulse chiles and
ginger together until finely minced, stopping
to scrape down the sides with a rubber
spatula once or twice. (If you don’t have
a food processor, you can do this step
by hand.) Remove 1 tablespoon chile-ginger
mixture, and set aside. Add cooled
peanuts to food processor, and continue to
pulse just long enough to roughly chop
nuts. Scrape peanut-chile mixture into
tapioca-potato mixture. - Heat frying pan over a medium flame,
and add oil. When oil shimmers, add
cumin. When cumin begins to sizzle, stir in
reserved chile-ginger mixture, and allow
to sizzle but not brown, then immediately
pour into tapioca mixture. Add 1 teaspoon
sugar, toss and season with salt to taste. - Microwave tapioca mixture on high
for 2 minutes, then stir. Continue cooking
for another 2 minutes, then stir again.
Cook for another 1 to 2 minutes in 15-second
increments, until tapioca is translucent and
chewy, but not quite transparent and clumpy. - Taste and adjust seasoning with salt,
sugar and lemon juice. Garnish with cilantro,
and serve hot.
Yield: 4 servings as a side dish or 1 to 2 as
a main dish.Adapted from Kanta Hirway.Sabudana Khichdi
(Maharashtrian Tapioca Pilaf)
Time: 45 minutes, plus 4 to 5 hours soaking1 cup medium-size tapioca pearls
(look for sabudana at an Indian grocer)
3 or 4 small-medium yellow potatoes
(about 8 ounces), such as Yukon Gold
or Yellow Finn
Fine sea salt
½ cup raw peanuts (about 2¾ ounces)
4 to 5 Thai chiles, stems removed and
roughly chopped
1 (3-inch) piece fresh ginger,
peeled and sliced into ¼-inch coins
(about 1½ ounces)
3 tablespoons neutral oil, such as canolaHrishikesh Hirway to off er listeners a lit-
tle quarantine levity. Hirway, a talented
musician and podcast creator, chooses
from among the questions our listeners
record and send in for me to answer.
When he played a question from a lis-
tener wondering what she could cook
one-handed — she had injured her wrist
shortly after taking up roller-skating as
a new stay-at-home hobby — I suggested
she use a rice cooker to make khichdi, a
dish of rice and lentils, versions of which
are found across South Asia. It’s often
the fi rst solid food babies eat in India.
Though I didn’t grow up with it, I think
of it as a comfort food and love eating
it with generous amounts of yogurt and
mango pickle.
‘‘Can I tell you about my favorite
kind of khichdi?’’ asked Hirway, who
is Indian-American. ‘‘You can’t make
it one-handed, but it’s called sabudana
khichdi, and it’s made with tapioca. It’s
one of the things I crave most.’’
‘‘Oh, my God!’’ I interrupted, ‘‘I’m
Googling my butt off right now!’’ I love
tapioca, and though I’ve always wondered
what a savory tapioca dish might be like, I
had never actually cooked or even tasted
one. The images I found were of a pilaf
with medium-size tapioca pearls, toasted
peanuts, potatoes and a few spices. ‘‘This
looks so good!’’ I told Hirway.
‘‘It’s spicy but simple,’’ Hirway said. ‘‘All
of its textures make it incredibly comfort-
ing. When I was little, my mom would
make sabudana without peanuts for me,
since I was allergic, and I hated it because
there was no crunch. But I eventually
grew out of the allergy, and now, when
I go home, I eat ungodly amounts of it
because it is so addictive and delicious.
It’s one of the top fi ve dishes that make
me happiest in life.’’
Hirway forwarded me the recipe his
mother, Kanta, makes, and I set about
testing it right away. After a failed,
gluey fi rst batch using the small tapioca
pearls I had in the pantry, I bought
medium-size sabudana at an Indian
grocery store. Then, while I let the tap-
ioca soak, I took to the internet to learn
more about the dish. Hirway had never
prepared khichdi himself, so he couldn’t
off er me any of the sensory details I like
to gather when cooking a dish I’ve never
tasted. I watched videos and read every
recipe I could fi nd online. While Kanta
uses a microwave to cook the tapioca,
nearly every other recipe I found called
for a nonstick pan or a wok. I tried fi ve
diff erent stovetop methods, all of which
resulted in clumpy, overcooked tapioca,
before realizing I needed to ask Hirway
to call his parents for guidance.
For this call, I wanted to know: Why the
microwave? Surely that wasn’t the tradi-
tional way to prepare the dish? ‘‘Because
it’s the best way to keep the sabudana
from clumping,’’ said Hirway’s father,
Sumesh, a retired food scientist.
‘‘My mom never needed to cook until
she moved to the States,’’ Hirway added.
‘‘Microwaving the sabudana is our family
tradition.’’ And with that, I went out to
the shed and dusted off my microwave.
Unlike every previous batch I’d tried,
this one cooked evenly, without clump-
ing. As soon as the pearls were translu-
cent, I adjusted the seasonings and gar-
nished the bowl with a healthy amount
of chopped cilantro. The khichdi smelled
so good I couldn’t wait to start eating, so
I stood at the kitchen counter, spooning
it into my mouth. The chewy pearls and
creamy bits of potato were studded by
the crunch of golden peanuts and the
occasional cumin seed. A hint of sweet-
ness was balanced by salt, lemon and the
alternating fl ames of ginger and green
chile. I couldn’t stop eating it.
This might not be how I would’ve
learned to make a new dish before the
pandemic. I hope one day I’ll visit Kanta
and Sumesh and watch them prepare
sabudana khichdi for me. And maybe
someday I’ll even make it to Maharashtra,
Kanta’s home state in India, to taste other
variations of it. But for now, this is more
than good enough.