I thoroughly resonate with Oscar Wilde’s statement “After a good dinner one can forgive anybody, even one’s own relatives!” Possibly because it has been my relatives who have made me into a foodie! Beginning from my mother, who would insist on making hot rotis on coming back from school; my wife who learnt her cooking out of notebooks, notes from her grandma & my mother & is now a super chef; my eldest sister who will send Konkani delicacies all the way from Pune as she cannot eat them without feeding me; my other sisters who will always set-aside portion of any unique dish they make & send my share with love: veggies & daals, even breakfast items & fresh pickles; my sis-in-law sometimes experimentative & YouTube following, but mostly solid in her traditional cooking; neighbors & friends’ wives who will take the effort to send “gammat” (new dishes they have cooked): with so much coming your way, how can you not become a foodie?
Of all the gastronomic adventures, one cannot forget some friends telling they make great chicken or even greater mutton & insisting on making it in Vinita’s kitchen, with all the other invitees playing the helpers’ roles. While the dish cooked, with many admonitions that all world’s best cooks are male, my main memory of these adventures are bribing the maid to clean up the mess after all cooking is done, & before Vinita returns home!! That tension has erased the memory of how the mutton tasted….I was just happy that except for misplacement of the “masala dabba” or the dalchini bottle neither the kitchen nor the house caught fire & I escaped from Vinita with just some cold stares.
So of course food is important in my life. As, am sure, it is for most of my readers. The Last Supper continues to be an important interlude in His story. For most of us, the Honeymoon with Food is not over. Food is a primal and original love for all mankind. I remember a colleague in J&J. As soon as we started back, he would call his wife, like most of us do. While we will be happy to just report having started back, my Gujju colleagues’ next question, every day would be, Aaje jamva ma su cche? And then there would begin a long discussion on the menu & changes to what his wife had decided!! Every day that I travelled with him!!! Must say Gujju wives are super tolerant, but it underlies the importance of food, regardless of age.
Have you ever walked behind a group of Gujju women on their morning walk? Since they are ALWAYS LOUD you have no problem over hearing their conversation: invariably it is about what they ate last night, what is planned for BF? And what in Lunch for hubby & for the in-laws? Or which new restaurant is to be tried out? I have NEVER heard any other conversation. Their husbands have a slight variation…walking time is discussion on the stock market, how much they made or lost yesterday & mistakes Modi is making in foreign policy. As the walk ends, someone raises the existential moot question: “Where are we going for Jalebi/Fafda or South Indian?… obviously to compensate for the calories they burnt in that days’ walk. Rashmi, when she was in KG, had to recite a prayer when school began. BF used to served immediately after prayers. For many years she thought,” Aaje su nashta?” was a part of the school prayer!!! It is always the food that makes the world go around.
I have been fortunate to travel the world & be hosted at the most exotic locations & sampled amazing fare. Korean Barbeque with Sochu in Seoul; 12 course Chinese Banquet & “gam bay” ( literally dry-glass or bottoms-up) with every course in Beijing; eating god-knows -what- meat with “Chuus” (literally good health) In Australia; tasteless German food accompanied by world’s best Beers & cheery shouts of “Prost”; Teppanyaki & Sushi accompanied by hot & cold Sake in Tokyo; …. where do I stop? Each experience was different & unique. That taught me the truth of the famous exposition….there are thousand ways to reach the Allah… ultimate pleasure is in gastronomy. The 33 million Hindu Gods must just have been 33 million satisfied individuals with a full stomach, who rose to god-like status in their satiety. It was often believed the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. After many a great meal, feeling a sense of satisfaction, I have wondered what more can that Divine Being offer in Heaven which will be better than a great meal. It is not for nothing that even Caesar told Mark Antonius,” Let me have around me, men that are fat” The world would indeed be better off with well-fed men.
Hence I was surprised when many friends frowned & ridiculed me when I told then last Sunday I took a group for breakfast at Ahura, Dahanu. Was it because Ahura is 110 kms from my house in Thane?
The distance apart, all the carloads of families thanked me profusely for the best brunch they had had. The Egg preparations you get at this Parsi eatery are to die or kill for….depending whether you got enough or you were left wanting. Typically you order for the table, no individual plates. So last Sunday our order was 2 Poro ( Parsi omlette) 2 Akuri (wet bhurji Parsi style) 2 Salli pur Eedu ( Eggs over potato crisps) 2 Kheema Ghotala (Mutton Kheema fried in Eggs) & 2 normal omlettes. All with loads & loads of Bun Maska…Buns liberally stuffed with Amul butter as only Parsis can make and buns {We bake our own Bread) softer than a new-born’s bum. All this preceded & succeeded by Phudina ni Masala Chai…full milk, boiled over & over with Mint & other spices. Amir Khusro sahib said it right,: “Agar firdaus bar roo-e zameen ast, Hameen ast-o hameen ast-o hameen ast.” If there is a heaven on earth, it’s here, it’s here. The Persians indeed knew it well. In Persian, Haminastu means “I am happy.” It is a declaration of contentment & joy. The phrase can be used as both a statement of appreciation for what one has in life, or as an expression of thanks. Haminastu is a reminder to be grateful for the simple things, and to find happiness in the present moment. Haminastu Ahura!!!
I end with a story my father often recounted. A Konkani man was going to the market on a Sunday morn carrying in his pocket the Goa Bumper Lottery ticket to check the result. He crossed the local fish market enroute, and a sparkling Rawas (salmon) caught his eye. He wanted to buy it but he was not carrying any money.
He saw a friend in the market, approached him to lend him the 2 Rs he required to buy the fish. (remember this is story of my father’s childhood) The friend said I can give you the money but I am a sahukar (money lender). So I cannot give cash unless you give me some collateral Our man had only the lottery ticket. He gave that, took 2 Rs, bought the fish and went home. Next day he came to know the ticket he had given he sahukar got a prize of Rs 1000, When he met him again, he told him, “ Friend you might have cheated me of the Bumper prize, but let me tell you, the Ravas I ate yesterday was so fresh & tasty that it was worth even more than 1000 Rs .” Such is the love of good food.
I stand with Shaw who noted,” there is no love sincerer than the love of food” : vikas, the food lover.
Vikasblog 