An Indian Food Blog
Maple Masala Paal
The trees towered above them. The canopy stood high above and dwarfed Poet and Flower. Flower was carefully carrying a a very full bucket of sap when plop, she tripped over her feet and fell into a sweet, sticky mountain of maple sap.
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Kindness Counts - Set Dosa
Set Dosa
This is a variation on a classic dosa from Karnataka. It's golden brown one side and puffy and soft on the other. It's a lovely variation that is just as delicious.
I'm an Old Mom - Masala French Toast
I'm an old mom. I wasn't twenty-nine or thirty. I was older when Poet and Flower were born. Or, in medical terms, I was what doctors refer to as advanced maternal age or AMA. Written in big capital letters in all my medical records from pregnancy. What does that even mean?
Who Are We? - Coconut Banana Bread
Mom? Flower was almost asleep but said the word softly, checking gently if I was still there or had quietly slipped out of the room. And for an odd moment, I thought she was talking to someone else. But there was no one else, just me. I'm mom.
There Are No Easy Answers - Ande ka Dosa (Egg Dosa)
It has taken me years to become a good listener. There is an art to everything. The art of photography, the art of medicine, and the art of listening. They are all important, each in their own way.
In Search of Texas Wild - Meda Vada
We were clearly outnumbered. Our simple trip to the zoo had turned into a little bit of a marathon. We spent the holidays celebrating with family, three families to be exact, and six little cousins with an abundance of enthusiasm and energy. Poet and Flower had talked about their upcoming trip for months and were so excited to play and enjoy time with their cousins.
It Was't Supposed to Be This Way - Overnight Oats
It wasn't supposed to be this way. I hear this from my patients, from friends, and I realize that it is also a little voice inside my head.
The Charm of the Midwest - Potato Palya
I never thought I'd be living in middle America. But, inevitably, it is now home. Poet and Flower were born here. Their childhood will be marked with Midwestern sensibilities and a place that will hopefully always be an anchor for them.
Expecting the Unexpected - Anda bi Seviyan | Vermicelli Upma
The large soft snowflakes kept coming down. Snow soon covered the ground, and it was a winter once again. The only catch was that it was late April and the start of spring. My spring garden was off to a roaring start, little radishes peeking out of the ground and lettuces growing.
Learning about Expectations - Masala Dosa
It had been some time since we had been out for dinner. Perhaps my expectations were too high. This dinner was before these times of social distancing, and before our favorite restaurants disappeared.
Things Do Not a Life Make - Idlis
Yesterday the postman delivered a package with two glasses and a seashell. My dad had carefully packed the box, and the delicate glasses had not broken. Every few weeks or so, he sends me small packages with things that used to be my Mother's.
Growing Up With Art - Uppit with Vegetables
Art surrounds us. G is an artist (and professor, and dad, and lots of other things). Sometimes I wonder how G and I managed to meet. My world has almost always been medicine, and we moved in different spheres with virtually no overlap.
Everything Happens for a Reason - Spicy Cheddar Scallion Biscuits
Does everything happen for a reason? I don't know. But, my mother believed very strongly in this idea. She would use this phrase often when we were disappointed as kids. My mother wasn't particularly religious but thought this was some divine sign or message.
Hi! I’m Sameena
Welcome! I'm Sameena. I'm a physician by day, mom on call round-the-clock and avid cook. Poet and Flower is an Indian food blog celebrating my passion for food and family. I learned to cook in my mother's kitchen. My kids, Poet and Flower, are both the inspiration for the blog and the main distraction which keeps me from it.
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