Tilda has done it - betrayed the South Asian matriarchs.
Basmati in a microwave.
My mother would die. Her mother would kill.
Soaking the rice; cutting the onions; measuring out the water; getting the golden crunchy bottom - every single step was part of a ritual, passed on from mother to daughter.
To end in the MICROWAVE? Never.
"Sanjay is my only son - handsome, loving. Now, of course, he's brought shame on the family."
"He cooks his basmati rice in the microwave. 48 hours I was in labour with him - for this? TWO MINUTES IN A MICROWAVE? Can a microwave replace a mother?"
Every South Asian mother would rise up against this sacrilege.
As do I. Mine takes at least 11.