Mysore Rasam

Mysore Rasam

Someone on a comment board the other day broke into a discussion to announce that she'd just made a spicy tomato lentil broth that had to be consumed to be believed. I was so inspired that I got right on Amazon (two-day free shipping!) and ordered the Indian cookbook she said the recipe was in, and some "asafoetida," that being the only ingredient I couldn't scare up locally. I've only ever heard of this substance from Patrick O'Brian Aubrey/Maturin novels, where Dr. Maturin uses it to provide his doses with the horrible smell and taste his patients require in order to take any medicine seriously. What came in the mail didn't smell horrible at all. Anyway, recipes generally call for only a pinch.

Having finally assembled all the necessities, I cooked some up last night. It was as terrific as my correspondent had promised. Mysore Rasam is "spicy lentil broth," which called on me to puree the cooked lentils, let them settle, and draw off the broth from the top, reserving the lentils for another dish on another day. Weird. Then you add a tomato puree with turmeric, garlic, tamarind, coriander seed, cumin, pepper, and molasses before finishing off the whole thing with mustard-seed scented ghee, asafoetida, and chopped cilantro. The picture above is pretty close, though my recipe called for finer chopping and therefore had a more uniform color. The cookbook recommended sipping the hot, strong-smelling broth from a cup.

Today: glorious leftover rasam for lunch, and I'll have to think of something to do with the lentil puree.

This Indian food thing sounds like a good deal for us. Coriander/cilantro grows like crazy here, but most American recipes call for only a pinch. This recipe for about six cups of Mysore rasam called for an un-heard-of two tablespoons of ground coriander seed. If I cook from this book a couple of times a week, and it catches on with my neighbors, we might make a dent in the coriander seed supply.