Upma is a popular South Indian breakfast item. Making it is no rocket science and yet it appears to be so in the case of my Woman Friday (WF).
Semolina is the main ingredient in the making of upma. Other that go into its making are green chilly, ginger, fresh grated coconut (optional), and the oil, mustard seeds, lentils and curry leaves for tempering. Vegetables too like onions, tomatoes, carrots, peas, beans, onion etc too can be added to it, in which case it becomes the vegetable upma.
Upma can be made in two different consistencies. The drier version has the cooked semolina in tiny clumps. The more moist one is where the semolina is well cooked and ends up as one soft and solid lump. The second one is favoured in my household.
After repeated instructions over the months failed to elicit the required result from the WF, I decided to enter the βringβ and make it myself a few times, so she could watch and get an idea of how it is done. I would have done it today too, except that I was busy with other things.
When I turned around from dealing with the dosa batter, I saw that she had covered the wok with a lid and was busy with something else. If I have told her once I have told her a number of times never to do the leave-something-on-the-stove-and-go-do-something-else routine.
So I left the dosa batter and moved to check what was on the stove. What do I see when I lift the lid of the wok? The water filled three-fourths in the wok with a few vegetables floating in it and boiling away merrily. Time to put in the semolina, I reminded the WF while inwardly shaking my head. She replied it was not yet time, the vegetables werenβt done.
What?
So she just filled up the wok with water before the vegetables were done? What a waste of fuel and more importantly, time. In spite of cooking in houses for years together, efficiency in usage of fuel, and/or time is not her strong point, I have found much to my surprise.
Meanwhile she started putting in the semolina in the boiling water and I realised with dismay that the proportion was all wrong. Too much water. You take double amount of water if you want it dry, and triple if you want it soft. Anything less or more is disaster. Did you measure the water, I asked her. She was silent. Of course. What did I expect!
I sighed. I should have just made it myself, I thought. For the next thirty minutes I tried my best to salvage the upma. No amount of stirring it over the stove with the flame full on could contain the damage. My right arm and shoulder ached, but the end result still was the consistency of porridge.
Oh well. Semolina porridge it is, for today, I decided, giving up on damage control. The L&M was duly informed of the change in the menu as we sat down for breakfast. You can bet anything that I will not be entrusting the making of upma to the WF anytime in the near future. π
Β©οΈ Shail Mohan 2025

π I was waiting for something to go wrong with your dosa batter!
Thankfully I kept checking it at intervals, making sure all was going well π
This happens only to new brides or sulking maids π
Upma at least semolina upma is quite deceptive. For no fult of yours, you could end up with lotm of lumps or something so dry that it sticks to your throat and poses a challenge to your seepages It all depends on the quality of semolina. Semolina drom some packets guzzle water, others need little water and despite following time and tested cooking tips you could have a disaster wrapped in calamity in yur hand. Semia upma is lot safer. It is like making Maggi noodles, Have you tried oats upma? If you can make oats porridge it would be child’s play . It is far, more tasty than rava
I can picture this scene! We (more accurately, the Good Lady) have had similar scenes over the years we lived in Bangladesh. Some people just know what they’re doing in the kitchen and some people just don’t!