Sabudana Khichdi

 

The Pearls That Needed Patience

Sago pearls, when tempered with chillies and curry leaves and topped with crushed peanuts, are the kind of pearls I would never be able to resist.

If you’re anything like me, you’ve probably spent time trying to unlock the secret to making the perfect sabudana khichdi — soft, bouncy, non-sticky, and not too oily. It sounds simple, but it’s not easy.

My mother used to make this khichdi almost every Ekadashi. She would toss the soaked pearls gently in the kadhai, reminding me each time how delicate they were and how much patience they needed. I watched her carefully. Even then I knew sabudana was not something to be taken lightly.

But knowing and doing are two different things.

After I moved countries, I tried making it on my own. I was cautious. I followed the soaking times. I paid close attention. But somehow the texture never came together. The pearls stuck, clumped, and turned gooey. I kept trying but after a while, I gave up.

It was one of those quiet resignations that happen in diaspora kitchens. A food you grew up with slowly moves out of reach. Not because the ingredients are missing, but because the memory of how it was made feels too difficult to recreate.

Then, not long ago, I came across @themissingdrumstick’s method. Clear steps. No fuss. Something about the way it was explained made me want to try again.

So I did.

I gave it another go, and this time it worked. The pearls stayed separate, the flavours balanced. Everyone at home liked it. Even my husband, who usually skips sabudana, went back for seconds.

That moment, quiet as it was, meant something. It wasn’t just about getting the technique right. It felt like something I had been circling back to for a long time.

I don’t think I’ll avoid sabudana anymore just because it once felt tricky. I know it better now. I know myself better too.

Maybe that’s all some recipes ask for — a bit of patience, good timing, and the willingness to try again.