A Puppy, A Pandamic & A Plate of Curd Rice

Curd rice is one of those things that looks very simple.
Rice… curd… a little tempering…
But for me, it holds one of the softest memories of my life, one that still makes my heart feel full in a way I can’t explain.

This goes back to our corona days.
If you’ve read my filter coffee post, you’ll know what kind of environment we lived in. Our entire lane was barricaded on both ends, no vehicles in or out, and groceries were passed across from a distance. The air felt heavy, but life also felt strangely quiet.

One evening, when I went near the barricade to collect a BigBasket order, a coin slipped from my hand and rolled under a parked car. I bent down to pick it up, and that’s when I saw her.

A tiny puppy.
Black and brown, with the biggest, roundest, most curious eyes.
She looked at me like I had arrived just for her.
Tail wagging.
Body slightly trembling.
Hungry, but hopeful.

I don’t know what switches in me when I see dogs. I become someone else entirely. I get emotional, protective, soft to a point where I feel silly later. If I see a dog crossing the road, I literally stand until it reaches the other side safely. I don’t care who’s watching. If a dog chooses to sit near me, I feel lucky, like the universe has certified my soul for one more day.

So of course, I could not walk away from this tiny one.

I remembered I had ordered biscuits, and that was all I had. I offered one. She finished it in seconds. Then another. Then another. I think I gave five that day, along with a piece of my heart.

That night I couldn’t stop thinking about her.
She must have been starving.
Alone.
Scared.
And yet she wagged her tail at me.

The next morning I did something very “me.”
I made curd rice.
Simple, plain curd rice.
Thick curd, slightly warm rice, no milk, no complications. The way I make for myself.

I packed it in those tiny paper cups we had bought for serving snacks during lockdown. I took them downstairs, and before I could even call, she came running.

From then on, this became our routine.
Three times a day.
Like she knew my timing better than I did.

I didn’t give her a name, but of course, I still called her things like cutie, Kannamma, pappu, whatever my heart spilled out that day. She responded to all of them. That’s the thing about dogs. They don’t care about the name. They care about the love.

Cut to today. When I visit my parents, I still see her.
Bigger.
Healthier.
Running around with her little gang.
Maybe she doesn’t recognize me anymore, but I do. Her color is so different from the rest. I can spot her from anywhere.

And every time I see her, it feels like a small reminder from the universe.
Some connections don’t need long stories. They just need one moment of kindness.

Now coming to curd rice itself. Let me clarify one thing.
I am NOT a milk person.
People who mix milk in curd rice, no hate, but also… why?
Milk and I have been enemies since childhood.
Except in coffee or tea where the milk quietly hides in the background.

So I make only daddojanam, the temple style.
Warm rice.
Thick, creamy curd.
Ginger grated, not chopped because that is non negotiable for me.
And a tempering that somehow smells like comfort.

Even now, when I mix the curd into the rice, I remember that tiny puppy.
Hungry eyes.
Hopeful heart.
And a memory that still feels so fresh.

People say dogs don’t talk.
But sometimes, with just one look, they tell you everything.

Curd rice will always remind me of her.
And of a time when the world was shutting down but my heart quietly opened up.

Ingredients:

• 1 cup cooked rice (slightly mushy)

• 1.5 cups thick curd (fresh, not sour)

• 1 tsp grated ginger

• Salt to taste

For tempering:

• 1 tsp oil or ghee

• ½ tsp mustard seeds, pepper whole or crushed

• ½ tsp urad dal (optional)

• 1–2 green chillies, slit

• A few curry leaves

Instructions:

1. Mash the cooked rice slightly while still warm.

2. Add the thick curd and salt. Mix well.

3. Heat ghee or oil. Add mustard seeds, urad dal, green chillies, crushed pepper, grated ginger and curry leaves.

4. Let them splutter and pour over the curd rice.

5. Serve chilled or at room temperature.

Srishti’s Secret Tip for the Perfect Plate:

Add the tempering only after the rice cools down a little.
It keeps the curd from turning runny and preserves that creamy temple texture.

Srishti’s Healing Tip for the Perfect Plate:

Sometimes the simplest food holds the biggest memories.
A little rice, a little curd, and suddenly you remember all the moments life fed your heart when you weren’t even looking

Why You’ll Love This:

• Cooling, comforting, and gentle

• Perfect for hot days and heavy emotions

• Easy on the stomach and soothing for the soul

• Tastes like temple prasadam

• And reminds you how simple kindness can be