Mornings Dipped in Rice Flour Batter
written by: Anjana Vipin
“Be careful not to burn your hands!”
My Ammamma would say
as I stood on my toes watching her take
a ladleful of rice batter and
make a perfect circle on the stone tawa—
the sizzling sound,
the pinpricks distorting the full moon surface,
the way she dipped the wooden stick,
its tip bound with cotton cloth
into an aluminum pot of blackening oil
leftover after frying pappadams.
“Ammamma—can I try?” I would ask.
The batter I poured pooled into a blob,
radiating spikes of uneven lengths,
inscribed into stone.
“You can help me flip it over,” she would say.
Dosas in perfect circles peel off
from my nonstick pans,
smelling of canola oil
and paper plates
as a stone tawa lay buried beneath
crinkling plastic wrappers
in the basement.
- Mornings Dipped in Rice Flour Batter - May 26, 2026
