The Secret of Life of Dosas

After my maternal grandfather passed away when I was in 7th grade, my grandmother left India behind to move in with my family. It was a major adjustment to my adolescent life. My grandmother had an arranged marriage at 17 and had four children by the time she was 25. She never touched alcohol and thought kissing in public was ghastly. On the other hand, I was growing up fully American embracing rock music, cheerleading, and boys. Instead of just circumventing my parents’ watchful eyes, I had now had another pair on me 24/7. When I snuck into my mom’s closet to “borrow” a pair of gold earrings, she tattled to my parents. When I hitched a ride from an older kid to go to a party, my grandmother outed me again. Sometimes I wanted nothing more than for my grandmother to move back to India so I could go back to being footloose and fancy free, away from her prying eyes. Though she was my grandmother and I loved her, it was hard for me to relate to someone so different from me.

Then she started making dosas.

Indian food in the U.S. is largely based on North Indian cooking, which is much more meat and flour based. Most people associate Indian food with things like Tandoori chicken, naan and thick, sinus-clearing spicy “curries”. And while these things are totally addiction-inducing and very much a part of the Indian food landscape, there is a whole other world of deliciousness out there. The South Indian diet is mainly rice, lentil based, which is a boon to those avoiding gluten. The use of dried red chilies, green chilies, coconut, tamarind, garlic, ginger, and even the normally-associated-with-Latin-food plantain is prevalent as well. So how does that translate into South Indian food? Idilis, (small rice patties), uttapam, (Indian-style rice frittatas), Pigeon-pea soup, coconut stir-fry, vada, (donut shaped fritters) and fish curry, are just some of the example of South Indian treats. But one of the most popular, and my personal favorite, is undeniably the dosa.

Maybe it was her way of extending the olive branch, but grandma’s dosas started to slowly break the ice between us. They were a South Indian specialty and a delicious treat she knew I loved.

Once a week, she would prepare dosas (an Indian-style crepe filled with meat or veggies) as an afternoon snack. She would make the batter and I would pour it carefully over the hot pan as she guarded against me making them too thick. When they were finished we would stuff them with a mix of potatoes, veggies, and onions seasoned with masala. I was in charge of cutting the veggies. She was in charge of seasoning. I took great delight in stuffing my dosas until they were about to burst, as my grandmother admonished me for making them too big.

We would move to the TV room with our plates where my grandmother and I would watch soap operas and talk shows while I attended to my homework. Her English was so-so leaving me to help her fill in the gaps in plot lines. “No grandma, Jenny left Tommy!” When I explained the drag queen RuPaul was actually a man, she refused to believe me. Then she burst into laughter causing me to do the same and soon we were giggling so hysterically the dog came over to check on us. It’s in these moments shared together that I began to see my grandmother more as a human being and less like Cruella DeVille.

We still battled from time to time, but I realized her strictness was due more to her upbringing and less to the fact that she wanted to make my life miserable. At the end of the day, she just wanted me to a good Indian girl. For that, I loved her. And her dosas of course. My grandmother has since moved back to India but whenever I make dosas I still think of her. And I still over stuff them.