One of our favorite breakfasts is a poha and potato pulihora, so when we were browsing through the JFI for Rice roundup on Sharmi's blog, Neivedyam, there was one preparation that loudly called out: "Make me, taste me!"

This turned out to be Raji's Puffed Rice Upma or Maramaralu Upma from Talimpu.

We made this one by the book, only bringing down the heat with fewer chillies (so that the six year old would eat it too) and adding the coriander leaves for a punch of freshness. We served it with kara podi and green chillies so each could adjust their own heat at the table.

Now, do note that this is indeed a very light meal - all the air in the puffed rice inflates the volume while keeping the density low; if you wanted to serve a more substantial breakfast, you might want to accompany it by at least one other item such as idli or even just toast. This is ideal as part of a tiffin spread, and the taste is lively and fresh, sure to tempt the palate on even the hottest of summer days.

When you visit India after a long time away, people want to treat you to something special: I frequently get asked what my favorite dish is, what food I missed most while being away.

The answer is easy: panasa pottu kura - green jackfruit fry!

I guess it starts with my love of the pungency of mustard - not the American innocuous bright yellow liquid with vinegar and sugar, but the eye-watering, sinus-clearing heat of real mustard seeds. This is the reason I love the tartness and the heat of dosavakaya and also the reason why I couldn't resist Sandeepa's recipe - why I had to find a way to adapt it to a vegetarian dish (see Andhra Twist earlier).

But to get back to the recipe at hand: for a long time in the US the only option has been to use green jackfruit in cans; I hate the taste and texture of canned jackfruit though, and so I have never considered that to be a viable option. Then I found frozen green jackfruit, and suddenly panasa pottu kura became a real option again. Granted, the taste and texture can never be the same as the fresh version, but this bears a real resemblance to it.

Part of the chopped jackfruit, turmeric and salt

Now, trying to capture a recipe when you cook with the measurements by feel is not an easy task, so I found one on ammas that had the right proportions.

However, as you who are in the US no doubt know, most of the mustard seeds we get here seem to lack the required pungency, trading it in for bitterness instead. So, I add a smidgen of Chinese mustard powder to the mustard seed and lemon juice paste; you will need to try and see how much you would need.

Ours is a Telugu household; in short, that means that you cannot speak of a "proper" meal if there is not some rice and some kandi pappu (toor dhal) on the table. There's more to it than that, of course, but those two are a staple requirement.

This version is a very common one, a firm favorite with us, and fortunately extremely easy to make. The short version of the recipe is: Put the dhal and the vegetables in the pressure cooker. Make a tempering. Combine and eat.

There, that wasn't so difficult, was it? As always though there is some art in the composition of the tempering, the detail of the method. That is the piece that is so hard to capture when you are trying to write down the recipe that an experienced cook is demonstrating for you.

I think the biggest tip I can give here is to assemble the bits and pieces for the tempering first, before you even start heating the ghee. I measure out the seeds and the dhals together in a small bowl, and in another I put the broken red chilli and the stripped curry leaves. Then, when I turn on the heat for the ghee, I measure the methi and stand with it in a spoon, waiting for the ghee to reach the right temperature.

Once I start making the tempering, it is only a life-threatening situation that would interrupt me, and then only after I had placed the whole vessel in the sink; I would rather start over than burn the house down!