Cookers
Yes, the humble pressure cooker. Or simply “cooker”. The one indisputable item in every Indian’s suitcase when they move abroad. And yes, it was in mine too. Not once, but twice.
Over the years our collection has grown. While it doesn’t quite line entire walls like guesthouse kitchens in Nepal, I’d say for an average household of two we’re doing pretty well. Let’s take a tour, shall we?
The daily driver. This 5-liter Futura cooker has been in daily rotation for at least 10 years. Dal (of course), meat stews, pulao, khichdi, beans of all sorts, potatoes, beets - it has seen it all. Heck I’ve even used it as a simple pot when I don’t need to pressure cook. This one - being from the Futura line after all - doesn’t whistle like traditional cookers. It blows off steam in a much more refined manner - like a steam engine train chugging along peacefully through the night.
The little brother. This cute fella was brought over to the US by my dad when he was living by himself for a brief while. I would never have bought something this diminutive myself, since I only cook in quantities that guarantee leftovers for days - but since it matches #1 perfectly, I couldn’t help but hold on to it. It gets pressed into service once in a while for a couple of potatoes or maybe some beets. Nothing serious.
My first. Yep, this was the first pressure cooker that I owned. I brought it with me to college when I moved to the US for the first time over 15 years ago, and don’t remember using it all that much. I did cook pasta in it once, and made so much that I got sick of eating it. It sat in the cooker for weeks, and when I finally did get around to cleaning the rotten mess out I was convinced that the smell would never leave. After college, this thing sat in my aunt’s attic in New Jersey for years - until they retired to a new home in Delaware and asked me if I wanted it back. Being the sentimental type of course I wanted it back, even though I promptly tried to palm it off to a friend who had just moved to San Francisco. Well she’s left the City now too, so it’s mine again. Gasket is in good shape, and the whistle sounds clean, sharp and commanding. After all those years of neglect and heartbreak I dare say she sounds happy to be working again!
The newbie. Friends come and friends go. Some friends who were moving away, had this in their donate-to-Salvation-Army pile. I couldn’t let it happen. In this day and age, in a neighborhood with a fairly limited South Asian population, who was going to appreciate this little beauty? I had to rescue her. Okay so the aluminum gauge is thinner than I’d like, but look at those curves! Nobody lives in this house without doing their fair share, so I did make pulao in her once - though I gotta admit being #4 ain’t easy.
And so there you have it. You’re probably asking why I don’t get an Instant Pot, but let’s save that for another time.