damn good daal + obama
CUP A JOE, NOB HILL —
i can’t stop thinking about this Justin Phillips story: “And ode to Dad’s red beans and rice.” he writes about how his dad cooks that signature dish with the “just about” method. in other words. his dad uses dashes and sprinkles, versus measurements and recipes. the smell of red beans and rice cooking brings him home.
one graf from Justin’s piece specifically resonated with me:
Over the years as I’ve moved to various cities across the country, I use the act of re-creating my dad’s red beans and rice recipe as a way to combat homesickness. Even though I think of myself as a capable home cook, a coherent execution of my old man’s recipe eludes me.
And honestly, I hope it always does.
for me, red beans and rice reminds me of my mom’s Damn Good Daal, a curried lentil soup. it can be served as is, or paired with rice (a not mom approved recipe, here). much like Justin, i’ve tried to recreate this seemingly-simple, 30 minute recipe every time i’ve changed a zip code. and also like him, i’m never fully impressed with my end product (granted, i’m not a food writer or cook, i’m just a periodic food instagrammer).
more on that later, including how canned alfredo sauce fits into all of this, but first my words + reads.
my words: this past week, i wrote about the founders and startups born out of the obama campaign. one founder told me that the transition from politics to tech makes sense, as campaigns, much like startups, are a “hard exercise that requires a lot of willingness to be wrong, and willingness to face reasonable amounts of humiliation.”
etc: nothing is more exciting than finding founders that got their start beyond the decades old silicon valley networks. this was one of the fastest stories i’ve written simply because examining a mafia outside of the paypal mafia is compelling as heck.
learning lesson: i also restarted a series on founders and people in tech beyond their job title. as you guys know, i talk a lot of game about skipping small talk. however this time, when i was interviewing paola for the first installment, i asked her about work right off the bat. she stopped me, and ask me how i was doing. quite frankly it was an embarrassing interruption, yet very needed reminder that we have to stop with mechanical interactions, deadlines be damned.
unorganized tab time:
a school in aghanistan with no heat or water: “Honestly, girls are better than boys, they are more serious..These kids all know that you can’t make a slave out of someone who is educated.”
venture capitalists (finally) notice a condition that impacts 1 in 10 women
i love this blog post on overthinking
on blocking your ex on linkedin
so it is impossible to get an impossible burger
how raising a $2+M seed round really, actually went
back to before:
while daal now brings me home, i used to hate it. throughout my teenage years i was tired of turmeric and curry powder scenting my clothes and tainting my nails, so i’d avoid indian food all together. instead, teen tash would ask for some far more classier, like bottled alfredo sauce poured over pasta, with a splash of sriracha, mexican four cheese sprinkly cheese, and chili flakes.
i didn’t lose my preference for that totally random and not at all disgusting pasta combination until i moved to boston. then, on my saddest days, i’d watch myself defrost a pre-made spice mix. then, i’d soak and boil some lentils, and bop my sad girl playlist until i had a soupy, subpar bowl in front of me. like clock work, i’d call my mom out of frustration looking for a recipe to tell me what ingredient i was missing. i’d get nothing beyond “go a little liberal on the ginger.”*
still, any day i need self love i muster up a just ok bowl over doing a face mask.
in all seriousness, as i went from hating to loving this staple dish, i keep thinking about the things we realize when we are away from home. distance, it appears, makes the stubborn tastebuds come crawling back for nostalgia. it makes you appreciate the constant you took for granted. it makes you crave something deeper than canned alfredo sauce.
as i settle into sf, daal is slowly getting reintroduced into my life through the ups an downs. this friday, for example, i made some Just Fine Daal, and traded stories on heartbreak and growth and smiles with a new friend.
i’m thankful that my Just Fine Daal does the job enough to remind me of home, and my mom. i’m also thankful that my Just Fine Daal is just fine enough that i feel perfectly unsatisfied, and know that home and my mom are not something to try and replace, but cherish.
and i think that’s a lot of life to get from an imperfect, 30 minute recipe.
to red beans and rice, daal, and all those special meals in between,
N
* i have a theory she’s just hiding her secret ingredient so i come home to new jersey more (more, once i prove it).