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Girls are Mean

Friday, January 11, 2008

Posted by Indian Food Rocks

Shocked? Dismayed? Aghast? I certainly was when the Principal of a local middle school opened his welcome speech to parents of new 6th grade students with this statement. He attributed most of the problems in middle school to girl cliques. Boys can be mean, too, he said, but the emotional manipulation that drives girl cliques not only creates serious issues between girls themselves and between girls and boys, but also pits boys against other boys. This was two years ago. I shook my head and filed it away for future research.

Unfortunately, I had to dig it up again within a few months when my sensitive then-3rd grader spent half hour crying her eyes out every day on her return from school. Yes, girls are mean and they start very young. It is easy to deal with in-your-face bullying but it’s not always easy to deal with subtle and sophisticated signals that are sent out by girl cliques. The movie, Mean Girls, may have been about girl cliques in high schools, but take it from me that girls encounter them much earlier – in the first few years of being in elementary school.

It starts small: through loose cliques, deliberate exclusions and a lot of hurt feelings. Some children make it unscathed because they are oblivious to the games being played by their friends. Sensitive children, on the other hand, bear the hardest brunt of this phenomenon; largely because they are sitting ducks for emerging Queen Bees as they hone their skills.


Queen Bee? Yes! The term is no longer just used to describe the clichéd over-aggressive soccer Mom but it is also used to describe one of the roles that a child may assume in a clique. According to Queen Bees and Wannabes by Rosalind Wiseman, there are seven roles that a girl may assume. These roles are not set in stone and one girl may lose her position to another as they play mind games with one another. As a parent, it helps to examine these seven roles to get a basic understanding of how to deal with the emotional baggage that starts accumulating and slowly chipping away at the self-esteem of your child.

  1. The Queen Bee: Through a combination of charisma, force, money, looks, will and manipulation, this girl reigns supreme over the other girls and weakens their friendships with others, thereby strengthening her own power and influence.
  2. The Side Kick: She notices everything about the Queen Bee, because she wants to be her. She will do everything the Queen Bee says. The Queen Bee, as her best friend, makes her feel popular and included.
  3. The Floater: She has friends in different groups and can move freely among them. She has influence over other girls but doesn't use it to make them feel bad.
  4. The Torn Bystander: She's constantly conflicted about doing the right thing and her allegiance to the clique. As a result, she's the one most likely to be caught in the middle of a conflict between two girls or two groups of girls.
  5. The Pleaser/Wannabe/Messenger: She will do anything to be in the good graces of the Queen Bee and the Sidekick. When two powerful girls, or two powerful groups of girls, are in a fight, she is the go-between. However, the other girls eventually turn on her as well. She'll enthusiastically back them up no matter what. She can't tell the difference between what she wants and what the group wants.
  6. The Banker: Girls trust her when she pumps them for information because it doesn't seem like gossip; instead, she does it in an innocent, "I'm trying to be your friend" way. This is the girl who sneaks under adult radar all the time because she can appear so cute and harmless.
  7. The Target: She's the victim, set up by the other girls to be humiliated, made fun of, excluded. She can be part of a clique or outside the clique. Either way, she feels isolated and alone.
I found this list both daunting and depressing, especially when used to describe elementary school kids. I then chanced upon an article on Scholastic's web site called Coping with Cliques by Ann Matturro Gault. She writes:
Research conducted by professors John Coie of Duke University and Ken Dodge at Vanderbilt University established five types of kids: popular, accepted, rejected, controversial, and neglected. Although these distinctions begin to emerge in 3rd grade, they really take hold in 4th:
  • Popular kids are socially skilled, academically strong, and well rounded. Everyone wants to be their friend.
  • Accepted kids are where the majority of children fit in. They are liked by their peers and do well academically.
  • Rejected children are openly disliked and tend to be aggressive. They lack social skills and often have academic and family problems (e.g. divorce, alcoholism, and depression). School bullies come from this group.
  • Controversial kids are liked by some but intensely disliked by others. They bring out divisiveness. As adolescents they engage in risky behavior — girls tend to be sexually active earlier; boys get into trouble with vandalism and truancy.
  • Neglected kids aren't liked or disliked. They fade into the background and have little social impact. They are, in a sense, invisible. Kids in this category tend to be academically high-achieving, but socially withdrawn. The more socially skilled have one or two friends, but are just as likely to be loners.

Where, in this matrix, did my child fit in? I had to figure out how an amiable and congenial little girl could suddenly be reduced to an inconsolable heap of tears. Was I in denial? That perhaps my child was not as proficient as I thought she was when it came to social skills? That she might be provoking the kind of behavior that made her feel excluded and neglected? I had to find out.

I talked with as many parents as I could. All of them resorted to marching into the Principal’s office to scream "bullying." In some of the cases, it stopped but in most cases, it resulted in more exclusion. It also did not help prepare the child to deal with more of the same behavior. I knew then that I had to approach this from another angle especially since I knew that the maturity level of my own child went from truly naïve to extremely logical, depending on the situation. I think it is also important to state that she was not being physically harmed. Her self-esteem and self-confidence, however, had dipped to an abysmal low.

While I could not ride the bus to observe children's behavior en route to school and back, I volunteered as a chaperone on just about every field trip where I rode the bus or I drove about five children to the destination. In addition to this, I volunteered in the school so that I could watch and experience the dynamics at play within the classroom and especially on the playground. My research was rather unscientific and I was very careful to play the role of an unbiased observer, difficult as it was.

This confirmed several things: I knew my child as well as I thought I did and that I was not in denial. It also told me that if we worked on building her self-esteem and her self-confidence back to where it was by focusing on her strengths and recognizing her weaknesses, she would be back to her normal springy humorous and happy self.

The first thing we did, as a family, was to reiterate that she was loved for who she was. That was all we did for weeks until she was ready to absorb more inputs. Then, we focused on her strengths. She reveled in this extra attention and started excelling academically, which is where her strengths lie. Her teachers started noticing her ability to think clearly and reason logically, and began challenging her in the classroom whenever they could. Soon, she was in demand as a project partner or elected to be the leader for a group project. There was new respect for her in the classroom but the problems on the playground and in the school bus persisted. However, the difference was that we were better equipped to deal with them now.

We impressed upon her that she had to make different choices when it came to the playground. So, instead of trying to do what the other kids did, she focused on what she enjoyed and wanted to get better at. She chose to take her jump rope to school and started practicing her jump rope moves by herself. It upset me to learn that she was playing alone but it was heartening to know that she was not staying in at recess. Soon, she had several other girls jumping rope with her. They had good-natured competitions and slowly, the jump rope games morphed into other games on the playground. She extrapolated this experience to the ride home on the school bus and it, too, became a non-issue. By the end of 3rd Grade, she had carved a niche for herself and she was far more comfortable with who she was and where she wanted to be. The mean girls did not matter anymore.

This is not to say that everything is perfect and hunky-dory now but things are a lot better. She has learned that she cannot change or control other kids' behavior but she can control her own responses. She walks away to protect herself from getting hurt. Other times, she confronts the other girls with what she thinks they are trying to do. It does not always go down well but they leave her alone. A curious fallout of this is that her 'services' are now frequently sought as an arbitrator in playground quarrels because of her ability to reason and be fair. She also knows her bounds and mitigates volatile situations by handing them over to the teacher-in-charge.

She has always been 'different' – in temperament, intellectual ability, ethnicity, and she is also strongly influenced by our values at home that, in many cases, are diametrically opposite to that of the community we live in. She now perceives all this as her strengths instead of something that sets her apart. With improved self-esteem and self-confidence, she is better equipped to deal with the meanness that seems to emanate spontaneously from other girls.

This is our story. Our methods may not work for everyone, as every child is unique as are their particular situations. The bottom-line though is that girls are indeed mean. What has worked for us consistently is keeping the communication channels open at all times. We encourage our child to confide in us. We do not talk down to her; instead we talk to her and discuss her feelings, whatever they may be. We focus on her strengths, acknowledge her weaknesses, and work toward all-round character development. She knows she has a strong support system at home and that helps her get through her day in the world outside. She is also her happy self again.

Have you had a similar experience? Do you have thoughts to share about girl cliques? I would love to hear from other parents with insights on how to deal effectively with meanness on the playground and in school.



Are you interested in contributing to The Daily Tiffin? Drop us an email: blogmeeta@gmail.com. We look forward to hearing your ideas.

This Post was written by Manisha of Indian Food Rocks.

The Tiffin Man

Wednesday, April 11, 2007

Posted by Meeta K. Wolff



This Post was contributed by Bee from Jugal Bandi



When I lived and worked in Mumbai (Bombay), I was a lousy cook and a finicky vegan. Eating at the cafeteria or ordering from a restaurant for lunch was not really an option. I got my lunches delivered from Vijaya Venkat’s Health Awareness Centre.

Every afternoon at 12.30 sharp, my tiffin would arrive through a dabbawala (tiffin man) – one of the 5000 who deliver home-cooked food to 200,000 Mumbaiites at their workplaces.

Mumbai is perhaps the only city in the world, where someone brings you lunch at work from your own home. If you’re a non-Mumbaiite, you may wonder why people can’t carry their lunches to work.
It's part geography, part habit, part convenience.
In many homes, people leave for work early – around or before 8, and lunch is not ready by then. The dabbawala arrives usually between 8.30 and 9 a.m., giving whoever is preparing lunch more time to have it ready.

Mumbai is a linear series of connected islands spanning about 25 km in length, with the business district at the southern tip. It’s a big city with about 17 million people, and many of them have a commute of an hour or more to work, in local trains, packed like sardines. Map of Mumbai.
Mumbai has the highest rail passenger density in the world.

Overcrowding has grown to be a compelling problem. 4,700 passengers are packed into a 9-car rake during peak hours, as against the rated carrying capacity of 1,700. This has resulted in what is known as Super-Dense Crush Load of 14 to 16 standing passengers per square meter of floor space.


Carrying your lunch box with you with you is a real inconvenience.



To a Mumbaiite, a lunch box does not mean a sandwich and a fruit. It usually entails a stainless steel tiffin carrier with tiers of rice, rotis, veggies/meat, often yogurt, and a fruit/sweet.

Some time between 8.30 and 9 a.m., the dabbawalla will come to your door, and collect your lunchbox. He has 90 seconds to spend at your doorstep before going for his next collection. If your lunch is not packed yet, or you take too long to get to the door, he's gone.

The commute from North to South Mumbai takes an average person 1.5 hours just from home to work on a good day.
The dabbawalas have 3 hours to go door to door and pick 200,000 lunch boxes, sort them, make the journey through 25 kilometres of rail and 10 km of foot to bring it to your office by lunchtime.
Suburban trains between 10 a.m. and 11 a.m. are called "dabbawala specials" 'cos the luggage compartments are full of crates with lunch boxes. Around noon, the roads of Mumbai are teeming with these guys weaving their way through traffic on their bicyles or pushcarts in the pouring rain or blazing sun.
Your lunchbox changes hands three or four times. They all look alike.



What differentiates one from the other is the code with yellow and red markings that ensures that the right one reaches the right desk in the right office. What does that code mean? Find out here and here. At around 2 p.m., he will take your dabba back and exchange it for the filled fresh one the next morning.



85% of the dabawalas are illiterate, 15% are semi-literate. They have been following this system for over a century, using their feet, bicycles, pushcarts, and rudimentary wooden crates to deliver the goods.
How they do it is the subject of business school dissertations at The Indian Institutes of Management, Harvard and Wharton.

According to a Forbes 1998 article, one mistake for every eight million deliveries is the norm. How do they achieve virtual six-sigma quality with zero documentation? For one, the system limits the routing and sorting to a few central points. Secondly, a simple color code determines not only packet routing but packet prioritising as lunches transfer from train to bicycle to foot.


To become a dabbawala, one has to be swift on one’s feet and bring a minimum initial capital investment of two bicycles, a wooden crate for the tiffins, at least one white cotton kurta-pyjama (shirt and trousers), and the trademark white Gandhi cap - a total investment of around 5000 rupees or 110 USD.

It's a co-operative system where there are no employers or employees. Each one is a shareholder, and groups of dabbwalas form autonomous units that work in tandem with each other. I have yet to see a female dabbawalli, perhaps because this job involves speed and lot of physical stamina to carry and transport those long wooden crates lined with tiffin boxes.

These men, whose reading skills are rudimentary, now lecture major corporations and business schools on the basics of supply chain management. Their system has served them well for 120 yers.

The dabbawalla is a unique part of the Mumbai landscape and a celebrity in his own right.



A Dabbawala explains his trade to Prince Charles. Two of them were invited to, and attended his wedding last year.

The last decade has seen them harness technology through the use of mobiles and SMS messaging to take orders.They've been recruited, in turn, by corporations like Microsoft, to distribute leaflets to campaign against software piracy.

South Asian communities in the U.S. are now trying to recreate the dabbawalla concept by delivering packed lunches to offices.

However, the Mumbai dabbawalas are in a class of their own. They move at the speed of light, and bring a smile to 200,000 people each day as they find their lunchboxes deposited without fail at their office lobbies each afternoon.

All pictures from Mydabbawala.com


See The Painted Chef's sketch of the dabbawala.

A BBC feature.

The Independent, London on the Mumbai Dabbawala.



Reminder!
Our first event on the Daily Tiffin this month is Show Us Your Lunchbox. Hope you will join us and allow us to peak into your lunch. Deadline April 20th.


Are you interested in contributing to The Daily Tiffin? Drop us an email: blogmeeta@gmail.com. We look forward to hearing your ideas.

This Post was written by Bee from Jugal Bandi


Meet My Baker!

Wednesday, May 23, 2007

Posted by Meeta K. Wolff



Allow me to introduce the man responsible for all the wonderful bread creations that are used in Soeren's lunch boxes and enjoyed by us at dinner time: Herr Becker ("Herr" being German for Mr.). Soeren and I are forever joking with him and call him "Herr Becker der Baecker!" - Mr. Becker the Baker. He takes it lightly and with humor. That's one of his many qualities - he is not just a brilliant baker but a kind hearted soul, always smiling and despite the size of him he is as gentle as a lamb. His family is equally wonderful and each one of his five ladies help out at the bakery: his daughters Katarina, Katy, Kim, Keila and his wife Kathrin.





I decided to revisit this post I had written to start a German Bread series a while back. Unfortunately, as many things so happen, I never got around to it. But thanks to Bee and Jai who reminded me about it. Both liked it and were charmed by this article so much and wanted to know more about my bakery and German bread and so they asked me to take part in their wonderful postcard series. So, I decided to re-write the article, dust it up and bring it out again. I am sending this with hugs and love to Jugalbandi's postcard series.

Visiting the Beckers at their bakery is never just an in-and-out routine, but an event. We always bring enough of time with us, because there will be a lot of chatter, a bit of gossip and a lot of tasting. Being his favorite customer, Soeren is allowed to go into the back and always taste one of his new creations that "he is currently in the middle of testing" - a new cake, cookie type, or bread. The bakery produces (mostly) organic breads and pastry and the thing I really like is that Herr Becker is always trying out new things. Kneading and mixing up concoctions, always busy and always with a huge grin on his face. In a week we visit the Beckers 3 to 4 times, buying mostly fresh bread, buns, rolls and pastry. It really is hard to choose one favorite when the variety is so huge, but we have found a few favorite breads we like to buy regularly. That is till the next time Herr Becker comes up with a new bread creation - who knows it might just become one of our new favorites.



Bakeries in Germany sell their large selection of breads in uncut loaves. They are all piled and sorted nicely on shelves behind the glass sales counters. In the glass counters you are disillusioned by the colorful selection of wonderful pastries, cakes and cookies. I think if I was ever left in there at my own risk I would dive into the counter - one of my more crazy fantasies!

The loaves of bread are sold by weight and depending on what's in them. One of the very best moments is to come home with a bread that is still warm, cutting a slice with the bread knife and the aroma of this wonderful freshly baked good spreading throughout the house, getting some fresh butter out of the fridge and spreading it on the slice. As the butter melts and trickles into the bread you take a huge bite. UMMMMMM! Heavenly!



Did you know that there are at least 300 types of bread to choose from? I think however that, that is just a rough basic number and in actual fact the number is a lot higher. "Brot" is a fundamental part of German food. You will find a "Baeckerei" (bakery) at any street corner and when we ask any of our friends and family living abroad what we should bring with us, the answer is always the same - "Some of that lovely German bread!" A typical bread mixes wheat and rye flour to form the basis of the traditional German bread. Other popular ingredients also include oats, barley and spelt, or onions, nuts, special types of grain, herbs and spices.

Something we really enjoy eating at our home is probably the darkest bread ever: Pumpernickel. It consists mainly of grainy rye flour and isn’t baked but steamed. This makes it very firm and juicy with a slightly sweetish flavor. As it stays fresh for a long time it is a handy gift for friends and relatives living outside Germany.

What I like about many bakeries here is you can often buy just half of a loaf. Which I do very often. I buy a half of one type and half of another type. This way I have a variety and it does not spoil that quickly.



So, maybe some of you can understand why I never wish for a bread machine on my Birthdays or for Christmas. Why should I when Herr Becker the Baker is just around the corner?

With this I am starting a new series on the Daily Tiffin. I hope to show you the many varieties of breads, rolls and pastries available in a normal everyday bakery.





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Are you interested in contributing to The Daily Tiffin? Drop us an email: blogmeeta@gmail.com. We look forward to hearing your ideas.

This Post was written by Meeta from What's For Lunch, Honey?



CREATURES OF HABIT

Wednesday, March 03, 2010

Posted by Jamie

COUNTRY CAPTAIN


Aren’t we all? Work, school, family. Out of bed at 7, breakfast the usual café au lait with 2 pains au lait with just a dollop of cherry preserves each, a few minutes more in bed reading and chatting with hubby, then walkies for Marts. Strictly the same routine, over and over again, endlessly repeated. Mornings followed by work all day, dinner then a bit of tv, Marty hopping insolently from lap to lap deciding on which one of us shall be graced with his warm, furry company for the evening or if he’ll simply snort his discontent and slink back to his own cushion. Weekends cozy at home. Maybe a morning saunter to the market, basket in one hand, husband’s hand in the other, watching rugby (in season) or a run for Marty in the vineyards (in the other, sunnier season). Dinner out once a week, vacations spent at home.

There is something so comforting about routine, that old expected pattern, accustomed to what we will find each day. It all becomes second nature, a natural reflex, and we can concentrate on other things secure in the familiarity of knowing what will happen next, as comforting and familiar as our favorite worn-in pair of jeans or that old woolen blanket we wrap ourselves up in on chilly winter afternoons, our hands wrapped around a mug of steaming cocoa. We are all creatures of habit and as much as we love change and adventure, the excitement of the unexpected, the thrills and chills of risk and chance, we still prefer the ease and well-being of our little, everyday habits. In this mad, mad, mad world, what feels better than that?

Our eating suffers from force of habit as much as our daily routine. Don’t we always want the same cake every birthday? Don’t our holiday tables groan under the weight of the same bounty of goodies, the turkey and stuffing, mom’s this and grandma’s that, the same pies for dessert, the same cookies baked year after year to hand round to friends at Christmas? Maybe we call it tradition rather than habit, but habit by any other name is still a habit. Remember when we were kids? A bowl of cereal drowned in cold milk every morning before we biked off for school; Fruit Loops were grabbed every morning for maybe 6 months, then Cap’n Crunch, then Lucky Charms, but the basic routine never changed, nor did the current fad. The same sandwich and cookies were wrapped up and dropped into the brown paper sack for lunch, the same Ding Dongs or Little Debbies, always cream-filled chocolate whatevers, for the after-school snack. The same games played every afternoon with the same friends knowing that at 6:30 each evening we’d find ourselves scooting our chair – and always at the same place – up to the table for dinner. On the nose. We knew that one day a week dad threw steaks on the grill to go with baked potatoes and he would make pancakes for dinner regularly. Like a parent’s love, these daily habits made us feel safe and protected.


Why should my own little family now be any different than my family all those years ago? Breakfast, lunch and snacks are like clockwork and hands grab for the usual. Husband is happy when there is a warm lunch on the table at 1 but is ever so content with bread and cheese followed by a piece of fruit. Every day. Clem expects to find the same foods in the refrigerator each time he pulls open that door and complains loud and long if they aren’t sitting and waiting for him when expected. Persnickety son is the worst of the lot and the most stuck on habit. Obsessively stuck. He regularly hands me over his list of the foods he likes, the main courses he will eat, the desserts he will deign accept to taste. And always at the same time of day. A little too early and eyebrows raise and one asks “Why? What’s wrong?” They grab the same thing every morning for breakfast, the same thing every afternoon for snack. And going out “en famille” means the same, familiar pizzeria. The same cereal, brands of dried pasta and cookies grace our pantries, my hands automatically reach for the same flavor jelly and same bag of coffee at the grocery store, we are partial to the same chocolate cake, same snack quick bread and the same coffee cake and they are requested – and baked – over and over again.

When one is a food blogger, eating habits can get in the way. I try and feed my blog yet my family claims that they should come first! Make the same chocolate chip cookies again? But they are already posted on my blog, I need something new, something different, something unique! Arms are thrown up, eyes rolled, groans escape from lips and one or the other stomps off in anger and disbelief. I try something new, a gorgeous charlotte or a panna cotta or fruit instead of chocolate chips and all hell breaks loose! “But you know what we like! You know we want to eat the same things all the time!

And dinnertime as well. No wonder it’s called comfort food: the couscous in winter, the Asian salad in summer, hamburgers on a bun with that side of fries once a week and homemade pizza every Friday night followed the day after by hot-from-the-oven focaccia made with the leftover dough. They feel comforted getting what they expect, are happy in the thought that it tastes just the same week after week. In a world gone mad, long, tiring, stressful days, being pushed this way and that by colleagues’ whims or teachers’ sudden demands, one a little too tired with the ways of the working world, the others just learning the ropes, living each day with the unexpected, the reckless and the impulsive, isn’t it nice to be able to step over that threshold, close the door – and the world – behind you and be greeted by the familiar, the warmth of a cozy livingroom, the comforting smells wafting from the kitchen, a mother’s smile or a spouse’s embrace, the warm, wet nose of a dog thrilled to see you no matter what and pull a chair up to the table and sit down to a meal you know and love so well.


Ever since the first time I made this traditional Country Captain, it has become a family favorite and a regular on our kitchen table. Warm, comforting, flavorful without being spicy so it fits everyone’s bill, easy and quick to put together, it is the perfect family meal simply served over rice, pasta or, as I have done here, creamy polenta. This dish, whose earliest reference was found in the 1857 Miss Leslie’s New Cookery Book, has a somewhat long history, but it is thought to be an English dish brought originally to the table by Sepoys, the Indian officers serving Britain in East India, eventually making it’s way to the United States. But the East Indian influences are indeed there – the curry, the raisins and almonds. It is a soothing, warming chicken dish with a deep, rich tomato sauce spiked with curry powder and garlic and sweetened by tender golden raisins or currents, the almonds adding a nutty crunch into the bargain.


COUNTRY CAPTAIN
Slightly adapted from Molly O’Neill’s New York Cookbook

¼ cup (about 30 g) flour for dredging
1 tsp salt
Freshly ground black pepper
1 broiler chicken (3 ½ to 4 lbs/1 ½ to 2 kg) or equivalent weight in favorite pieces, well-rinsed and patted dry, excess fat and skin trimmed and cut into pieces
4 Tbs (60 g) butter or margarine
1 medium to large onion, finely diced
1 green bell pepper, cleaned and diced
1 red bell pepper, cleaned and diced
1 clove garlic, minced
1 ½ tsps curry powder
½ tsp dried thyme leaves
1 can (16 oz/450 g) stewed or crushed tomatoes
3 Tbs golden raisins (or currents if you prefer)
1/3 cup blanched, slivered almonds


Place the flour and salt in a wide bowl and add a very generous grinding of black pepper, at least ¼ tsp and toss to combine. Dredge the chicken pieces in the seasoned flour to coat completely, shake off the excess flour and place the pieces on a piece of waxed paper.

Melt the butter or margarine in a large, nonreactive, heavy bottom pot or Dutch oven over medium heat. Add the chicken, just a few pieces at a time so as not to crowd, and cook until the chicken is browned all over, 3 to 5 minutes per side. Remove the chicken as it is browned to a clean plate while you continue browning the rest of the chicken.

Once all of the chicken has bee browned and removed from the pot, slightly lower the heat and add the onion, the peppers, the garlic, the curry powder and the thyme and toss until blended. Add the stewed tomatoes and stir, scraping up the brown bits sticking to the bottom of the pot from the chicken.

Return the chicken to the pot and push it down under the sauce. Add a bit of water just until the chicken is barely, but not quite, covered. Bring to the boil, lower the heat to low and allow the Country Captain to simmer (you can put a lid on the top but I usually keep it just slightly ajar) until the chicken is cooked through and beginning to fall off the bone – about 35 to 40 minutes more or less. Stir the sauce occasionally and add a bit of water if the sauce evaporates too much. You do want a thick sauce at the end.


5 minutes or so before the end of cooking, stir the raisins into the sauce. Serve the Country Captain over rice, pasta or polenta sprinkled with the slivered almonds.








This post was written by JAMIE



Are you interested in contributing to The Daily Tiffin? Drop us an email: thedailytiffin@gmail.com. We look forward to hearing your ideas.