The Grandmother Who Never Measured
- 3 minute read
- Ages 5-10
- Bedtime Stories
Nani did not measure anything.
She had cooked for fifty-one years and she did not own a measuring spoon or a set of scales, and when anybody asked her how much of something to use she said the same thing every time.
"Enough."
Trying to write it down
Her granddaughter Rukhsana decided one summer that the recipes had to be written down before they were lost, which was sensible, and she sat in the kitchen with a notebook for three weeks and got almost nowhere.
"How much salt?"
"Enough."
"Nani. How much."
"You put it in and then you taste it," said Nani, "and if it needs more you put more."
"That is not a recipe."
"It is exactly a recipe," said Nani. "It is just not a recipe you can follow without being there."
What Rukhsana did instead
So she stopped writing amounts and started writing what to look for.
Not two spoons of oil, but: heat the oil until a cumin seed dropped in comes straight back up.
Not one cup of water, but: enough that the rice is covered by the depth of your first knuckle.
Not cook for eleven minutes, but: until the onion has gone from white to gold and the smell changes, and you will know because it changes.
She filled the whole notebook that way.
And it was slower to write and much harder, and at the end of it she had something better than a list of measurements, which was a description of what her grandmother was actually paying attention to.
The test
At the end of the summer Rukhsana cooked one of them on her own, with Nani sitting in the corner of the kitchen not helping.
It came out right.
Not identical. Nani said it was slightly sweeter than she would have made it, and that this was fine and probably better.
"You will make it your way now," she said. "That is what happens. Mine is not my mother's either."
Years later
Rukhsana has that notebook in another country and cooks from it perhaps twice a month.
Her own daughter is eight and has started standing on a stool to watch.
And last week she asked how much salt, and Rukhsana opened her mouth to say a quarter of a teaspoon, and did not.
"Enough," she said. "Put it in and taste it."
Moral of the story
Fifty-one years of cooking could not be written down as amounts. It could be written down as what to notice, and that turned out to be the thing worth passing on.
Questions and answers
- What did Nani say when asked how much of something to use?
'Enough.'
- Why did Rukhsana get nowhere at first?
She was asking for measurements, and Nani cooked by tasting and looking rather than by amounts.
- What did she start writing down instead?
What to look for: when a cumin seed comes back up, water to the depth of a knuckle, onion turning from white to gold.
- How did the first dish she cooked alone turn out?
Right, though slightly sweeter than Nani would have made it, which Nani said was fine.
- What did Rukhsana tell her own daughter?
The same thing Nani had told her: 'Enough. Put it in and taste it.'
Word meanings
- cumin
- A strong-smelling spice seed used across South Asia.
- knuckle
- A joint in your finger.
- identical
- Exactly the same.
- passing on
- Giving something to the next generation.
Questions about The Grandmother Who Never Measured
What is the moral of this story?
That skill is often not a set of instructions but a set of things to notice, and that the second is harder to write down and more worth having.
Is the cumin seed test real?
Yes. It is a genuine and widely used way of judging oil temperature in South Asian cooking.
Why does Nani say the different taste is better?
Because she expects the dish to change hands and change slightly. She says her own version is not her mother's either.
What is a good activity afterwards?
Cook something simple together and describe what to look for rather than giving amounts. It is harder than it sounds and it is the whole point of the story.