Uggani And My First Best Friend

Uggani, or puffed rice upma, is a Rayalaseema special. Now, I don't really have roots in Rayalaseema. But somehow, some of my fondest memories connected to this dish come from a family that did.

And if I'm being honest, when I think of Uggani, I don't first think of the recipe.

I think of my first best friend.

My God.

I never actually thought about it until I started writing this post.

I've had beautiful friends throughout my life. Friends from school, college, work and every phase in between. But I think she was probably my first best friend.

Funny how it took a plate of Uggani for me to realize that.

Food does that sometimes.

It quietly opens doors in your memory that you didn't even know existed.

My friend and I met in school. Her father worked in government service, and their family lived in government quarters about five or six kilometers away from my home. It was a tiny little one-bedroom house on the ground floor of an apartment building.

Even as a child, I used to wonder why such an important officer was given such a small house.

Looking back, I don't remember the size of the house at all.

I remember the warmth.

I have always loved going to my friends' homes. Even today, I enjoy it more than going somewhere fancy. I don't need special lunches or grand plans. I can happily sit, watch television, listen to conversations, help in the kitchen, or simply spend time doing absolutely nothing.

That little house was one of my favourite places.

And then there was Auntie.

Oh my God, I loved her.

I still do.

My friend is now happily settled in the US, married, with a little baby of her own. Her brother is married too. Uncle must have retired by now. Life has moved on for all of us, but when I think of that house, Auntie is always the first person who appears in my mind.

She cooked like magic.

Not fancy restaurant magic.

Home magic.

The kind that makes you feel hungry the minute you enter the house.

The kind that makes you remember a dish years later.

She used to make incredible Rayalaseema dishes. Uggani, mirchi bajji, karam chutneys and so many things that introduced me to flavours I wasn't familiar with at home. Even today, I have made Uggani multiple times. In fact, she once told me exactly how she made it.

And yet mine never tastes like hers.

Not even close.

For the longest time, I thought maybe I was missing an ingredient.

Now I think I know the truth.

Sometimes the magic isn't in the recipe.

It's in the hands.

It's in the person making it.

It's in the love with which it is served.

Auntie used to bring ingredients directly from Kurnool. Even the way she spoke carried a little bit of Rayalaseema with her. The slang, the flavours, the recipes... everything felt different and special to me.

And her Uggani?

That remains the benchmark.

Every single Uggani I eat today gets compared to hers.

Poor thing never stands a chance.

Now there is another important thing you should know about me.

I walk.

A lot.

Even today, if you tell me to walk ten or twelve kilometers with a light backpack, I would probably say yes without thinking twice. Back then, I was even worse. Sometimes I would leave a few books at my friend's house just to make my school bag lighter and happily walk all the way home.

Walking never bothered me.

There was only one problem.

A graveyard.

Because between my friend's house and my home stood a graveyard.

And beside it was a beautiful apartment building called White House. In my childhood eyes, it looked luxurious. Bright. Grand. Almost magical.

Unfortunately, it had chosen a very terrifying neighbour.

Now, I am one of those people who loves listening to mysterious stories and then immediately gets scared by them.

I can discuss ghosts.

I can discuss energies.

I can even sit and investigate stories.

But ask me to walk beside a graveyard after sunset?

No, thank you.

Every visit followed the same pattern. I would happily stay at my friend's place until evening, completely forgetting about time. Then suddenly it would get dark, and all my confidence would quietly leave my body.

One particular day, I stayed later than usual.

Auntie suggested I take an auto.

My friend suggested I take an auto.

Naturally, I decided to walk.

Because apparently younger Srishti believed she was very brave.

Everything was fine until I reached the road beside the graveyard.

The streetlights were dim.

The road was quiet.

And then I saw two men walking out.

Now, were they normal people?

Most probably.

Did my brain believe that?

Absolutely not.

For a few seconds, I was convinced something had risen from the dead.

I froze.

Panicked.

Turned around.

And ran.

Not walked fast.

Not jogged.

Ran.

Poor men were probably just heading home, while I had already created an entire horror movie inside my head.

Even today, I laugh thinking about it.

But somehow, that's exactly why the memory stayed.

When I think of Uggani today, I don't just think of a dish.

I think of my first best friend. I think of Auntie standing in that tiny kitchen. I think of Uncle. I think of that little one-bedroom quarters. I think of the long walks. I think of White House.

And yes, unfortunately, I think of that graveyard too.

The friendship remains.

The love remains.

The memories remain.

And Auntie's Uggani still remains the best Uggani I have ever eaten.

As for me?

I am still the same girl who can confidently walk ten kilometers without complaining.

Unless a graveyard decides to join the route.

Then I will very respectfully take the auto. 😄💛

Ingredients:

For Uggani

• 4 cups puffed rice (maramaralu / borugulu)
• 1 medium onion, finely chopped
• 2–3 green chillies, chopped
• 1 tbsp roasted chana dal (putnalu), powdered
• ¼ tsp turmeric powder
• Salt to taste
• 1 tbsp lemon juice
• 2 tbsp oil

For Tempering

• 1 tsp mustard seeds
• 1 tsp cumin seeds
• 1 tbsp chana dal
• 1 tbsp urad dal
• 8–10 curry leaves
• 2 dried red chillies

Instructions:

1. Wash the puffed rice quickly in water and immediately drain. Do not soak for long, or it will turn mushy.
2. Let it rest for 5–10 minutes while you prepare the tempering.
3. Heat oil in a pan. Add mustard seeds, cumin seeds, chana dal, urad dal, red chillies and curry leaves.
4. Once aromatic, add onions and green chillies. Sauté until the onions become soft.
5. Add turmeric and mix well.
6. Add the softened puffed rice and salt. Gently combine without overmixing.
7. Sprinkle the roasted chana dal powder and mix lightly.
8. Switch off the flame and finish with lemon juice and coriander.
9. Serve hot with mirchi bajji, chopped onions and a cup of chai if you're feeling extra indulgent.

Srishti's Secret Tip For The Perfect Plate:

The biggest mistake people make with Uggani is soaking the puffed rice for too long.

Treat it gently.

A quick wash and drain is all it needs.

If the puffed rice still holds its shape while remaining soft inside, you've got it right. If it turns into a paste, you've loved it a little too much. 😄

And if you're serving it Rayalaseema style, pair it with hot mirchi bajji. That combination deserves its own fan club.

Srishti's Healing Tip For The Perfect Plate:

Some recipes heal your body.

Some recipes heal your memories.

And some recipes do both.

The next time you visit an old friend, don't worry about making plans. Sit in their kitchen. Drink tea. Talk about absolutely nothing important.

Years later, you may not remember the conversation.

But you'll remember how loved you felt.

Why You'll Love This:

• Light, comforting and incredibly satisfying.
• Comes together in under 20 minutes.
• Perfect breakfast or evening snack.
• Budget-friendly and pantry-friendly.
• A beautiful taste of Rayalaseema cuisine.
• Pairs wonderfully with mirchi bajji.
• Most importantly, every bite carries a little nostalgia, a little friendship and a lot of home.