Sunday, July 31, 2011

BBT Catch up!

Some of the questions were just too good to pass up! Apologies for the recent lack of new fiction on this blog, it seems my life becomes busier whenever I decide to slow down. ^_^

btt button

What’s the latest you’ve ever stayed up reading a book? Is staying up late reading a usual thing for you?

Six-thirty in the morning. :P  It was a really good book! (and in case you were wondering, it was Tamora Pierce's Beka Cooper, book #1). The sad part was having to get up an hour and half later to work until midnight--but it was a very good book! ^_^

I don't usually stay up late to read a book, because I have a habit of not wanting to stop reading and I like to sleep about as much as I love to read, so I don't read at night anymore.

What’s the first book that you ever read more than once? (I’m assuming there’s at least one.)
What book have you read the most times? And–how many? 

The Secret Garden, followed immediately by The Little Princess. I reread these at least once a year (along with my entire hardcover Nancy Drew series!). I have read The Little Princess at least thirty-something times. I know I reread it quite obsessively the first time I stumbled across it and then about once a month while storing the whole 'world' inside my head and now down to about once a year. ^_^ There are very few books I will reread and that happens to be one of them. I also occasionally reread portions of Dee Henderson's O'Malley series. 

There are so many crappy biographies … would you rather read a poorly-written biography of a fascinating life, OR an exquisitely well-written, wonderful read of one of a not-so-interesting life?

The exquisitely well-written read. ^_^ This is a slight pet peeve of mine. I have read enough "badly written" wonderful stories to know that I truly do appreciate decent, solid writing. There is something to be said for those who have a knack for the craft and those whose work continues to improve throughout their careers.

Have a great week!


Tuesday, July 26, 2011

J is for JJ

I've just read Joanne Sher's lovely post for this meme just a few minutes ago and tada, I had my "idea" for this week's letter. I don't normally attempt these sorts of happy-fluffy posts, so please excuse me if it gives you a toothache somehow. I wouldn't know, because I'm eating sour pineapple at the moment. (Actually, I think it's the whole wheat toast that's doing it, but I'll blame it on the pineapple 'cause it came from a can and therefore should be sweet!)

For me, J stands for many things, a particular favorite being a certain, Joanne Sher. Now if you haven't read her post for J, hop on over there and do that. Then come back, I really want you to read my post.

Um, well, I'm just kidding about the last part. Kind of. I think. Maybe. I don't know. It's the pineapple talking.

Joanne falls in a very special category of friends in my life, known to some Faithwriter members as the "FW Jewelers".

I know her as a very special lady with an amazing sense of humor, a very big heart and awesome curly hair. I also know her as JJ. My JJ. *hands off!* She was one of the first FW members to greet me when I first joined the site a few years ago. She commented on an article I had written (my very first article in my teenaged life at that time) and encouraged me to keep writing.

I was floored.

Time passed and through another dear friend, I was invited to join the FW Jewelers.

I had an instant panic attack.

Then I told my nerves to go away and attempted to fit in.

That didn't work very well. My nerves have voices of their own, you see and they weren't too keen on sharing my quiet little existence with anyone else apart from my own brain.

So I watched from the sidelines for a little bit and then it happened. Those wonderful jeweler women simply reached out, dragged me into their circle of friendship and love, and smothered me in the center of it.  ^_^ Through these amazing, faith-filled women, I learned a lot about prayer, family, writing and learning to listen for God's whispers in my life.

Friendship, sistership and a few good doses of mothering.

In the midst of all the wonderful happy fluffiness, I dragged them into my random, nonsensical world where nothing really makes sense (See Purple Carrots for more information!) to anyone except for me and grew into the nickname that was so lovingly bestowed on my creative self. Laughter and silliness went up several notches and in one of my creative bursts of genius, I ended up calling Joanne--JJ. It fit and it stuck. I have a habit of nicknaming people (simply because I like names and it's easier to keep my yakking brain happy when its distracted.) and to this day if you say Joanne, I'll say JJ very quietly under my breath and smile.

My brain is quite happy with that. 

When I first saw her at the Faithwriters' Conference, the first thing I said was "JJ!"(Followed immediately by "Peej" I think. :P)

I cannot begin to tell you how this wonderful woman has blessed my life in so many ways.

Between JJ and the jeweler girls, I am truly and quite thoroughly blessed.
Almost all the Jeweler gals...

To protect the innocence of the random and not-so-random, all possible incriminating ... boring....interesting ... other details have been left out. 

The official snippet on the FW Jewelers is : Who are the FW Jewelers? The FW Jewelers are a group of FaithWriters' regulars who pledge to assure that every challenge entry has at least two comments on it, and to comment on general submission articles and recognize some as jewels weekly.

Disclaimer to other jewelers who may read this post: This is in no way intended to be a show of favoritism, well, you know. I heart ya too. (and I know you're taking this the right way!) ^_^ 

And that would be it for a snippet into my very quiet, private and personal life.  (Though I can practically see you thinking, why I would consider myself to be any of those three at the rate I am writing these abnormally inconsistent posts. I don't know. I'll ask my brain the next time it feels like sharing.) All other letters will almost certainly be randomized into some unusual topic.

Psst...that's also probably the pineapple again...


Thanks for reading and have a great week! 

Monday, July 25, 2011

Friday Fiction Character Swaps!

Interested in a fun summer writing exercise? 

If you've been reading Friday Fiction for awhile or wanting to join in the fun, there's a great new twist for the summer. Details below--go ahead and sign up!

It would be loads of fun to have more participants. The deadline is August 12 for the Fiction Friday post. It's a character swap, so make sure you have some time to spare to read up on the character you're assigned. If you write fiction, join us! This is just for fun and to get the creative juices flowing. ^_^

The following details are courtesy of Rick H. (as this was his brainchild) and rules are below!

1. If you want to participate, submit your name, your blog URL, and any other possible helpful information to shalvia{at}, with a cc to info[at] as well (just so I know that we have enough participants to make it worthwhile), by THURSDAY.
2. Nancy (my wife) will do a random drawing to distribute the character swap assignments amongst those participating, and will forward each e-mail to the lucky recipient.
3. You may suggest a character in your e-mail, but the final selection will remain up to the writer.
4. Once you receive your assignment, you can peruse the blog to get a better feel for a character as needed.
5. The stories do not need to align with the canon of the original stories, but the nature of the character should remain fairly true to the original. Length of the story is up to each writer, just as is normal for FF.
6. You should not learn who has your character until the stories post for Friday Fiction on August 12, 2011. This helps curtail the urge to kibbitz (and, no, Nancy will not tell me who has my character, and since I set the rule, I won't even ask), and should add to the fun.
7. When you post your story, please note whose character you received, and link back to their blog in the post.
8. Most importantly, have fun, both in the writing and in the reading.

So, what are you waiting for? Hurry up and join in the fun!


Saturday, July 23, 2011

A Hundred Years

To stay like this for a hundred more years. 

Francesca Battistelli’s titular song from her most recent album has been scrolling through my head today. I can’t quite shake it off (not that I really want to, anyway) and it has my mind thinking of life today. So many little details make up the lives that we think we love or hate. So many little differences that set us apart and bring us together in a single moment.

Today’s kind of a rambling sort of day, you’ve probably noticed a few posts or tweets appearing here or there, but not much else. Today’s my rest day. I don’t do anything but rest. I pray. Worship. Think. 

Sometimes I write.

Sometimes I think I will write.

Sometimes I sit down and do nothing.

It’s different, special.

Today, I skimmed through my usual internet routine (the abbreviated weekend version, mind you, there is a difference!) and noticed one snippet of news that was rather sobering.

Amy Winehouse passed away at age 27.

I sat and stared at the screen for a moment, then I hurried to check if that was real. It didn’t seem like it could be, because she was young, I knew she was young. She couldn’t die. In my half-awake brain, you only died if you were old or suffering from an incurable medical condition.

It seems far too young to die, especially as a singer. I must admit I don’t really recall her music, (mostly because my music is a whole different world altogether), but I do remember her. I remember her hair, her smile, that crazy wild eyeliner and that somewhat haunting look in her eyes. Maybe I was reading too much into it, but I always remember her that way, I always see her eyes.

Then I wonder, I wonder if she loved what she did and if that outward fearlessness was something she couldn’t give up or hold onto. I don’t know. It’s not my place to imagine up things of other people, not my place to pass judgment.

It’s sad that she has passed on. She was a human being. She had family and fans that will undoubtedly miss her. She was barely a handful of years older than I am. May she rest in peace.

I guess what bothers me is that if you were to live to ninety at least, then there was so much ahead of her. So much more. So much life left to live.

Just a thought for the day. 

Trial by Air (ebook)

 Trial by Air : Sara Harricharan : Short Story : Christian Fantasy : Book 2 in the Twilight Knight Series

Synopsis: As a general applicant student in the Twilight Academy, Layta's heart is set on the rank of Twilight Knight. Her dream is impossible unless someone sponsors her. Shatila Briston is the last person she'd expect to offer her that sponsorship. Layta is overjoyed to accept and receives her first assignment as a Twilight Knight. It seems simple enough, but everything is jumbled upon her arrival. It seems that anything that can go wrong, will. In the desert, on her own, with no one but herself to rely on, can Layta survive? Or will the wind finally blow her away? Book Two in the Twilight Knight series.

Now available for purchase on for $2.99. Click here to purchase. Sample also available for download. 

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

I is for, Me, Myself and I

I is for--In case you were wondering--Introducing myself! If you've been reading my blog for awhile and don't know who I am yet, I'm impressed. Thank you for reading. If you do know who I am, then I hope I can make this interesting for you!

I've been looped into this particular topic by reading all the delightfully creative posts on this meme all afternoon. It seems like it would be such fun to write about myself, to whip up something wonderful and amazing, just like all those talented bloggers.


Until I sat down to write it.

'Cause when I sat down to write it, I had to think about it and when I thought about it, I realized something *le gasp* I really don't like rambling on about myself--at least, not when I'm told to. So I actually tried to push this off on my problem-solving division and it kicked back a rather acceptable idea, so I scrounged around the house for a copy of Reader's Digest and figured I'd do a mini interview like the ones they have in the MiscDigest section.

So, here we go.

Sara and Pepper
Sara Harricharan is a multitasking fairy, undiscovered manicure artist, talented Indian cook, creatively addicted writer/author and connoisseur of chocolate chip cookies. 

What she's reading: G.K. Chesterton's The Father Brown Mysteries, the entire collection, on my Nook.

What she's plugging: Her first Ebook ever, Trial by Fire and a vegetarian lifestyle, the Indian way. ^_~

What she's listening to: Francesca Battistelli "Beautiful, Beautiful" and "Motion of Mercy." Soundtrack from Jab We Met "Mauja Hi Mauja", and Shakira's "Waka Waka, Esto es Africa"

The Miracle Train Conductors!
What she's watching:  BBC's Sherlock, Season Two of Murder, She Wrote, Toriko and The Great Miracle Train. 

Where she's surfing:  Google Plus, also known as G+ It rocks. Hands down, no contest. Can't wait for more people to get on there, it's an amazing new social platform--simple and headache-free, just like what I'd expect from Google.

What she's doing right now: Eating lunch, Fried Indian Dumplings and vegetarian chicken and tomato stew.

If she ruled the world, she would: Insist that people read books from different countries and cultures, so what they can't see for themselves, they can experience through the written word. If we all knew some of the finer points of cultural and ethnic differences, there would be far more understanding and discerning human beings on planet earth.

If she had to describe herself in two words: Quietly creative.

Thing she would never be caught without : Mint Lipbalm

Her Reader's Digest version of life and work:  Stand up, speak out, sit down shut up, learn to care and learn to bear(because the burdens we carry are not always so insignificant).

And that's me, RD style--*cheering*.

Thanks for stopping by~!

Sunday, July 17, 2011

H is for HYPER and Sherlock Holmes

Ha. You knew Sherlock Holmes was going to show up in here sometime--after all, D was for Nancy Drew right? Just kidding, everyone, I won't subject you all to my favorite literary detectives whenever the letter suits me. To join in the bloggy fun, click here!

Actually, this weekend I finally had the chance to watch BBC's version of "Sherlock" a modernized mini-drama series in which Holmes and Watson meet up and solves cases--in a modern time setting. Think smartphones, laptops, the internet and everything. In a single word--AWESOME! (and yes, it deserves the capital letters!) I laughed, giggled and snickered through the entire pilot episode and then decided I was completely hooked.

Martin Freeman plays a totally convincing Dr. Watson and Holmes...ah, Holmes, just take a look at the picture and tell me if that isn't brilliance in a bottle? ^_^ There is still the lovely touches of old-fashioned humor that I love so well about Sherlock and it was fun to see how special effects played out on his superb deduction skills. If you're a fan of Holmes, check it out. I highly recommend it.

Now, H also stands for hyper.

By hyper, I mean that I am completely over-the-top ecstatic about something that has recently happened in my life. It means I am grinning ear-to-ear as I type this and I've got celebratory music blasting away in the background and brownies somewhere in the kitchen. (Well, the brownies are in the kitchen because I had to eat chocolate while watching Sherlock. There's leftovers for today's celebration!)

I finally published my first ebook.

Hyper cannot begin to explain how excited I am feeling. It has taken me quite some time to put it together, edit, review and format, and today, the final product was sent through to Smashwords and, tada! Trial by Fire is now available as a short story by Sara Harrichan.

WOOT! *happy dancing*

I had a blast designing the cover, writing and rewriting the story and to see the final result, I am so excited, I had to share it in my "H" post. The official synopsis and blurb bit is at my official blog, here.

To find Trial by Fire on Smashwords, click here.

I'm so happy for this moment--I'll even share my brownies. *hands out brownies*

Also a shameless plug of self-promotion, I am handy in designing stuff and if you need a hand with a book cover or something, feel free to bug me. I'm sure we could work something out! ^_^

Thanks for reading my scribbles!

Trial By Fire (ebook)

Trial by Fire : Sara Harricharan : Short Story : Christian Fantasy

Synopsis: In Amerinth, Shatila is a young Twilight Knight up for promotion to the level of Twilight Titan. It is a coveted position she longs for. The only thing standing between her graduation ceremony is a few personal barriers. Can she make peace with her inner self in time to prepare and join the Titan ceremony? All seems possible until Master Dugene interrupts her meditations with one final assignment, an escort mission for a Duke? The last thing Shatila wants is to trek through the dense Amerinth jungle with a clueless noble in tow--but when she wins the mission by demonstration rights, she cannot refuse. Can this frustrated knight handle one final assignment? Or will her temper bring all her hard work crashing down? 

Now available as an ebook for purchase on for $2.99! Click here to purchase . Sample preview is also available for download.

Saturday, July 16, 2011

Come and visit!

I'm over at Jewels of Encouragement today, a wonderful inspirational team blog with daily snippets.

See you there!  ^_^

Friday, July 15, 2011

Disperse [part six] (Friday Fiction)

This week's Friday Fiction is hosted by the talented Karlene Jacobsen @ her blog Dancin' in the Rain. Click here to read and share more great fiction!

Author's Ramblings: I predict about two more pieces to wrap up this summer serial. WOOT! Well, Ebony got her wish, she blew up the warehouse and the drama chain reaction started. It is another short excerpt for this week, because I haven't really been able to carve out as much time to write as I'd like to. I can blame this on that "real life" thing, but quite frankly, it's Summer and July is Camp Nanowrimo month. If you're behind in this serial, just click the tags "Disperse Serial" and catch up on the backposts! ^_^ Credits for these photos were through google image search and Apologies for any rough patches in this piece, I've skimmed it once. Happy weekend and enjoy the read! 

In the space of time it took Ebony to burn her restraints and leap to her feet, her captors turned to see what was happening. It took a strong push of air, applied in a concentrated burst to her feet, and a few careful stabs to her stomach and chest to throw herself upwards and to the wooden framework of the warehouse. 

From that precious vantage point, Ebony sucked in her breath, working to force her body to handle more than one element at the same time. It was possible, but that did not mean that she appreciated the discomfort that came with it. Her body shifted to water and fire, with some difficulty. Water—in order for her to read the vibrations from the warehouse structure and other buildings in the immediate area, fire—to prepare to torch the place.

Bullets were in short order, whizzing up in the rafters, punching polka dot holes through the ceiling and a few larger objects came close to touching her near-rooftop perch, but Ebony was quicker. She’d had time to put some thought into her escape route and now she took it. “Oi, keep that up and I’ll be sure to roast you alive instead of just bringing this crashing down on your stupid heads!” She bit her lip, a little past annoyed, as the angry flames flickering at her right hand could testify. “I don’t appreciate being kidnapped, I don’t appreciate being treated like I’m some sort of object and lastly, I don’t appreciate your inquiry into the Echo family.”

Flexing her legs, Ebony drew on her elemental gifts, a constantly shifting blur of white-blue-red and green as she landed softly on the concrete floor of the warehouse, directly in the center of the forming circle of death. The henchmen circled her, guns at the ready, a few of the others jabbering frantically on their cellphones, trying to call in their own gifted reserve officers.

She scoffed.

“Take your best shot.” Her smirk shifted to a grim glower. “Because if you miss, I’m gonna knock your head off.”

They fired.

Ebony fluxed white.

The element of air gifted her with the ability of nothing—all the bullets passed through and found their intended targets—their fellow comrades on the other side of the circle. It was a matter of minutes before the stronger ones separated themselves from the weaker shooters, struggling to their feet, clutching an injury, their dark eyes focused solely on the elemental girl before them.

“Who are you?”  Gregory had gone pale, for all his talk as the head of the little group, he was suddenly looking like a rat trapped in an oversized cage. “Why do you care?”

His unofficial bodyguard, J, scrambled to take up a defensive position beside the white-faced Gregory. “Don’t listen to her, the Echo family and-who are you working for? I knew he’d double-cross us the fre-”

“I work for myself, much more profitable.” Ebony shot back. “Far more satisfying too.” She sucked in a breath and blew it out with force, her eyes burning red as her body finally completely converted to fire, a walking, scarlet figure of burning destruction. The concrete hissed beneath her feet with the temperatures spiking off of the angry young woman as she approached the mismatched duo. “I don’t appreciate your…inquiry, into the Echo family.” One flaming hand moved from her side to plunge into her stomach, pulling out a sparkling, perfect, crystal cube.

A flicker of white-yellow-peach shimmered, showing that the information was still intact—for the moment.

In the flaming hand that held it, the cube began to melt, the colors distorting and turning black before crumbling to a small puddle of ashes trickling to the floor. One flaming foot stepped deliberately on the blackened patch, a louder flicker of sizzling flame filling the air as she approached the two men in the corner. “Bet your shiny new boots they’ll be happy I did that. So answer me this, does dirt burn?” She inquired, a toothy smile visible in the flaming visage of her eerie face. “Shall we find out?”


Othello found himself within city limits faster than he’d expected. A grim smile registered as he slowed to better navigate the confusing city streets, aiming for the destination blinking on the dashboard GPS. “Stupid girl.” He muttered, accelerating through a changing stoplight, clearing the line as it flashed red in his rearview mirror. 

There was a faint burning on the lower left side of his back and although it was becoming increasingly uncomfortable, he refused to acknowledge it yet. It was the eye tattoo bearing marks to futuresight and it taxed him considerably to use it. Now was not the time to put himself in such a vulnerable position, not when Brin was MIA and a bothersome brat was left in the hands of—the warehouse came into view and Othello felt a wave of relief wash over him.

It was short-lived as he approached the gravel entryway and the roof blew off the warehouse, crashing down on the sidewalls and parking lot in large, flaming chunks. Several long tubes of angry red-orange fire streaked out, torching the four corners of the main supports on the building, belching out angry clouds of blackened smoke.

Othello gulped.

Swerving to the streetside, he propelled himself out of the car and started for the burning building, shedding his white coat. A red fire hydrant caught his eye and he paused to detour towards it, drawing a little black bottle from one coat pocket and pouring the contents over the heavy duty cap. It ate into the metal and a trickle of water began to spill through as he turned towards the building once more. His pale gold eyes began to flicker, going a milky-white shade before morphing to silver.

In his mind’s eye, Othello saw himself approach the crooked entrance door to the left of the burning building. He reached for the handle as a flaming streak of fire shot out, scorching his body and simultaneously setting him one fire.

The silver eyes fluxed, returning to gold as the man in white slowed his steps enough to see the stray bolt of fire crash through the door where he would have been moments before. He sighed, dodging to the side and ducking into the chaos. He traveled through his available eyes, quickly settling on the choice of X-ray vision, mixed with heat-vision, able to pick out which bodies were where.

When he found her, Othello considered the possibility that he was dreaming, because towering over two bound captives, was a flaming entity with the same familiar pull as the dark-haired girl from before. He hadn’t thought she was an elemental.

No, he corrected absently. She can’t be an elemental. Only the Echo family themselves can possess that power, elemental gifts are restricted to their very bloodline. That would mean that she-!

“My name is Ebony Echo.” She stretched two hands towards the quivering captives. “and I don’t echo.”
That registered, along with another twinge along his spine and Othello’s eyes flickered silver again, briefly touching on his futuresight to avoid another unnecessary mishap. The possible images danced through his head in rapid succession and Othello shook out the coat he’d tucked under his arm. This was going to be a headache.

 “Look out!” Othello tackled her, the coat open to protect himself from the flaming figure as they crashed to the ground, several feet away as one burning beam crashed to the ground.

The figure twisted and jerked, struggling to free itself from the coat’s confines when Othello caught hold of it and jerked it upright. The fiery flames had faded away and a rather familiar human appearance greeted him. He slapped her upside the head. “Never burn the ceiling first you idiot!”

Ebony gawped at him in a cross of adorable confusion and cautious agreement. “Othello?” His name was carefully spoken.

“You weren’t going to mention you were Ebony Echo any time soon, were you?” He gave her a shake.
She coughed, wincing. “Not like you would’ve listened anyway.”

Something crashed behind them and Othello crouched, scooping her up easily in his arms. “We’re leaving.” He cast a glance around them, his grip tightening as he sprinted for the doorway.

Ebony didn’t protest. It was nice to be carried and she was very, very tired. She was drawing too heavily on powers she hadn’t had to use to such an extent on a fairly empty and tortured stomach. It was not the smartest thing she’d ever done, but it wasn’t the worst either, she decided, her arms half-looped around the neck of the man in white.

He was quick on his feet, she gave him that. He dodged the burning debris as if he knew exactly where each flaming pieces was about to come crashing down. His grip was strong, betraying that perhaps he wasn’t as human as he seemed.

Biting her lip, Ebony strained to look over his shoulder, trying to see the two men she’d left behind. She didn’t want to leave them—not in that state anyway—and she hadn’t finished questioning them either. A stab of frustration pierced her as she turned back to see where they were headed.

She caught the movement just out of the corner of her eye and as he sidestepped. It was only because running out of burning buildings usually meant her life depended on it, that Ebony reacted. She stretched out one hand towards the burning debris and blew out with all the frustration she had in her body. It generated a powerful blast of air pushing it up and out of the way, effectively clearing the path for Othello to sprint the last few yards to the safety.

Her relief was short-lived as she sagged limply in the strong arms, turning back to see the warehouse. Her jaw dropped as she saw the effects from such a powerful blast of air—upwards. The portion of roof she’d deflected now streaked upwards, ripping through the last threads of support, freeing one giant wall.

With a loud groan, the metal and wood slab wavered, then began to come down—straight for them!

Ebony felt the faint prickle of tears sprouting at the corners of her eyes. This was too much and for once, she didn’t know what to say. 

(c) Sara Harricharan 

Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel so inclined!

Thursday, July 14, 2011

G is for a what?

Click here to join in the bloggy fun for this entertaining meme!

I don't know what Chick Peas are.

No, I'm serious. If you were to ask me what they were and I was otherwise occupied with something--I'd ask you to a) repeat yourself, b) explain what it was, c) tell you to go and ask my mother.

(and I'm not kidding about option C!) I do remember a distinct conversation in my weekly grocery shopping adventure that went something like this.

Stranger in grocery store: Ohhh, you eat chick peas?
Me: *blank* What? 
Stranger: Chick peas! I've always wondered what you do with them. 
Me: Right...*holding can in hand* 
Stranger: So, what do you do with them?
Me: What? 
Stranger: Chick Peas?
Me: I don't know...I don't eat them. 
Mom: Yes we do.
Me: We do? 
Mom: Garbanzos. *pokes me* They are lovely in almost anything...

Dried Garbanzos
G is for Garbanzos.

I know what those are. I eat them. I like them. To me, they are Garbanzos and nothing else, I don't see where on earth the 'chick pea' bit came from. I was surprised to learn from a friend that some people consider them to be little potatoes. That was certainly a new twist for me, but anyhow, here's the explanation.

It's a pea (like green peas/red lentils and all of that) and it's got the most curious shape. I am Indian, therefore I curry it. Well, no, not really, I prefer to stir-fry it, I like actual potatoes in my curry. Garbanzos are excellent at taking on the flavor of whatever you season them with and you can take a small bag of the dried ones and soak it for over a day or so and they'll swell in size to be like the ones you would buy in can.

Garbanzos are kind of like a staple, because stir-frying them or stewing them does make a lovely side dish or complement to a pasta dinner. On occasion I do curry it, but as I am a picky eater (and equally picky about my curries!) I prefer to simply fry them.

Roasted/Dry Fry Garbanzos
Now, besides stir-frying, there's regular frying, there's boil and then fry and both are excellent methods. The flash frying (after you've soaked them of course!) turns out a crispy, crunchy snack similar to potato chips, just tastier and...rounder. Sprinkle with salt or pepper and you're good to go, the hardest part is waiting for it to finish frying.

For the boil and fry, you throw them in boiling water to soften them up a bit before you fry them. It cuts down on fry time and if there are smaller children going to be eating it, it makes it easier to chew. Just beware that it makes it quite squishy, so if you aren't careful in stirring said stir-fry, you have a mash-fry.

Hmmm, now whether that all makes sense or not, I bet you know something about Chi--Garbanzos now. Have you ever tried them? Did you like them? What did you do with them? (btw, you can also grow them in your garden and eat them green or add to fried rice and stuff.)

Thanks for reading! (and whew, I'm almost caught up...just one more letter and I'll be on track, eh?) ^_^