Majida Rashid
…Through the dancing poppies stole a breeze, most softly lulling to my soul...
— John Keats
My early childhood memories are from the time when we lived in Supply, Pakistan. Supply had a small civilian population. It was a town where army infantry practiced shooting daily. Adults were so accustomed to the sound of weapon fire that their attention was drawn to it only when out–of-town visitors asked them about the noise.
Our house was surrounded by a vacant land. My half sister and I played there. Occasionally we ventured into the fields a little farther where tall grass grew. From time to time, it would be dappled with red poppies, white tulips and yellow snap dragons. I was fascinated by how the white tulips were solid pink at the base with a dot here and there or thin lines straying away from the base. Sometimes when we lost our way, we would pick a tulip and place the petals, one by one, on our palms. Then we would chant, “old, lady, old lady, has the house arrived?” three times and blow over the petal. If the petal flew away, it meant the house was nearby.
While I enjoyed the tulips, I loved the gently swaying red poppy flowers the most. At times they intriguingly showed off their black middle. Even now when I reminisce about that time those delightfully red flowers pop up in my mind. In Hindko, a dialect spoken in that area, poppy is pronounced as Popee. It’s the nickname given to little girls because they are delightful like poppies.
There are numerous species of poppies and they come in a variety of colors. They belong to the subfamily of Papaveroideae, which is part of the Papaveraceae family.
A couple of years after that I spent numerous vacations in our summer house in Changla Gali, which is located in the Himalayan Mountains. Later, I told stories of my summer adventures to my children, some real and some made up. Here is one.
It was a freezing dark night. The oil in the lantern had dried and I was stuck with ten children somewhere in the Himalayan Mountains. There was no torch in the house to look around. We were antsy and scared of the dark so we decided to cook something delicious. We used our magical cats’ eyes to guide us while we gathered the ingredients. The ten magical cats stood guard on the counter as we whipped up something delicious. We prepared the batter in a jiffy and in less than half an hour we had a yummy cake that we ate together huddled in the dark. Being a mom is not a prerequisite. Though having paranormal shiny bulbous cat’s eyes could be a requirement!
Poppy Seed Cake
(Serves 6)
Ingredients
3/4 cups sifted cake flour
1/2 tsp baking powder
Pinch of salt
1/4 cup unsalted butter, at room temperature
3/4 cup sugar
3 eggs, whites separated
2 tbsp fresh lemon juice
1 tsp vanilla essence
1/4 cup sour cream, smoothed with a fork
Rind of lemon
3 tbsp poppy seeds
Directions
Oil and flour either 9.5 x 5 inches oblong cake tin or twelve muffin tins.
Preheat oven to 375°F.
Sift the first three ingredients.
Cream together the butter and half of the sugar until fluffy.
Using an electric beater mix together the yolks, the lemon juice and vanilla until pale in color.
Beat the egg whites until frothy.
Add the remaining sugar, a little at a time, beating well after each addition, until stiff peaks are formed.
Mix one-third of the sifted flour into the yolk mixture alternating with the sour cream until thoroughly incorporated.
Gently fold in one-third of the whites into the yolk mixture.
Repeat until all the whites are incorporated.
Mix in the poppy seeds and lemon rind.
Pour into the prepared tin and bake for 20-25 minutes for cake and 15-20 minutes for muffins.
Remove from the oven and cool slightly.
Serve with coffee or tea.
—————
Foodie Majida Rashid lives in Texas. Food and cooking are her passion. Her presentation about her love of food can be viewed on USA Today’s network: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l0xi566VSPo – We Spread Love Through Food
@Frontiers_Of_Flavor
Her philosophical writing can be read at apakistaniwomansjourney.wordpress.com.
— John Keats
My early childhood memories are from the time when we lived in Supply, Pakistan. Supply had a small civilian population. It was a town where army infantry practiced shooting daily. Adults were so accustomed to the sound of weapon fire that their attention was drawn to it only when out–of-town visitors asked them about the noise.
Our house was surrounded by a vacant land. My half sister and I played there. Occasionally we ventured into the fields a little farther where tall grass grew. From time to time, it would be dappled with red poppies, white tulips and yellow snap dragons. I was fascinated by how the white tulips were solid pink at the base with a dot here and there or thin lines straying away from the base. Sometimes when we lost our way, we would pick a tulip and place the petals, one by one, on our palms. Then we would chant, “old, lady, old lady, has the house arrived?” three times and blow over the petal. If the petal flew away, it meant the house was nearby.
While I enjoyed the tulips, I loved the gently swaying red poppy flowers the most. At times they intriguingly showed off their black middle. Even now when I reminisce about that time those delightfully red flowers pop up in my mind. In Hindko, a dialect spoken in that area, poppy is pronounced as Popee. It’s the nickname given to little girls because they are delightful like poppies.
There are numerous species of poppies and they come in a variety of colors. They belong to the subfamily of Papaveroideae, which is part of the Papaveraceae family.
A couple of years after that I spent numerous vacations in our summer house in Changla Gali, which is located in the Himalayan Mountains. Later, I told stories of my summer adventures to my children, some real and some made up. Here is one.
It was a freezing dark night. The oil in the lantern had dried and I was stuck with ten children somewhere in the Himalayan Mountains. There was no torch in the house to look around. We were antsy and scared of the dark so we decided to cook something delicious. We used our magical cats’ eyes to guide us while we gathered the ingredients. The ten magical cats stood guard on the counter as we whipped up something delicious. We prepared the batter in a jiffy and in less than half an hour we had a yummy cake that we ate together huddled in the dark. Being a mom is not a prerequisite. Though having paranormal shiny bulbous cat’s eyes could be a requirement!
Poppy Seed Cake
(Serves 6)
Ingredients
3/4 cups sifted cake flour
1/2 tsp baking powder
Pinch of salt
1/4 cup unsalted butter, at room temperature
3/4 cup sugar
3 eggs, whites separated
2 tbsp fresh lemon juice
1 tsp vanilla essence
1/4 cup sour cream, smoothed with a fork
Rind of lemon
3 tbsp poppy seeds
Directions
Oil and flour either 9.5 x 5 inches oblong cake tin or twelve muffin tins.
Preheat oven to 375°F.
Sift the first three ingredients.
Cream together the butter and half of the sugar until fluffy.
Using an electric beater mix together the yolks, the lemon juice and vanilla until pale in color.
Beat the egg whites until frothy.
Add the remaining sugar, a little at a time, beating well after each addition, until stiff peaks are formed.
Mix one-third of the sifted flour into the yolk mixture alternating with the sour cream until thoroughly incorporated.
Gently fold in one-third of the whites into the yolk mixture.
Repeat until all the whites are incorporated.
Mix in the poppy seeds and lemon rind.
Pour into the prepared tin and bake for 20-25 minutes for cake and 15-20 minutes for muffins.
Remove from the oven and cool slightly.
Serve with coffee or tea.
—————
Foodie Majida Rashid lives in Texas. Food and cooking are her passion. Her presentation about her love of food can be viewed on USA Today’s network: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l0xi566VSPo – We Spread Love Through Food
@Frontiers_Of_Flavor
Her philosophical writing can be read at apakistaniwomansjourney.wordpress.com.
