Life is tough, my darling, but so are you! ~ Stephanie Bennett-Henry
Category Archives: Thoughts
Indian Food For Thought
I have never been a foodie in my life. That’s not a great way to start a blog post titled Food, but it is true! For the longest time, food has simply been the fuel I needed to do all the other things I love doing. That translates to how bad a guest I become when I am invited for dinner parties. While trying to pick a restaurant, I tend to go towards a narrow set of familiar tastes, which is usually Indian; sometimes Italian or Mexican cuisines come a close second.
So, when my husband and I moved to London, newly into our marital life, I thought cooking was going to become a similar mundane activity like eating. I had only just started cooking full meals so it felt cumbersome, and I carried certain pre-conceived notions like making time to cook after work in the evenings will be tougher or that weekends would often be a break from cooking all week! Turns out, I was completely wrong.
I have been cooking Indian food at home for over two and a half years now. And each day has been a revelation! I’ve started to look at food differently now, perhaps almost lovingly observe as all the little things weave together to become on single dish. The sheer number of spices that go into certain recipes, the rich and light ingredients alike, the varied flavours they bring out and oh, the variety in colours; Indian food I think is no less than an artist’s delight!
I stand with my ‘masala box‘ that is the palette of my base colours, in front of the canvas that is my heated wok (or kadhai as we know it!). I always have some additional richer spices in various forms – some ground, some as a paste, some simply hand-cut into pieces. An excitement seeps in looking at my stock! I begin with tempering the oil, slowly add layers with finely chopped pink onions, diced red tomatoes, green peppers & white button mushrooms. The rich spices bring texture to the dish, and I notice the hues changing, from light pink to creamy orange to sienna. As the aroma fills up my senses, the final strokes are that of garnishing with freshly cut greens or a dollop of home made butter. Doesn’t that feel like being in a painter’s workshop, after all? Only here you can actually taste the painting!
As I mentioned earlier, the sheer joy I have felt while cooking is when these spices, so characteristically different from the one another, come together as one; it seemed random at first to a beginner like me but I realised there is a Method to this Madness! There is science backing certain combinations of ingredients & spices, which when cooked together enhance each other’s qualities, bring out their flavours better and sometimes go on to make the dish healthier too! Read this article recently published on Washington Post and there are many on the World Wide Web if you google.
This is not specific to Indian cuisine, but cooking, in general, is an activity that brings the family together, and closer. “Peel these potatoes while I grind garlic and onions”, or “roast coriander seeds with dry red chillies and some cumin”, or “knead the dough as I clean the greens” are some common assignments in the kitchen when our families visit us! And, when it is just the two of us here, we ensure we cook dinner together – every night.
Truth be told, my affinity towards food has certainly increased manifold since I started cooking at home. I am more comfortable experimenting with food in my kitchen, even if it is within the realms of Indian cuisine. In fact, after a hard day’s work, cooking together is our favourite way to unwind!
I guess my point here is I couldn’t be more grateful for having picked up the ladle & spatula, despite my initial apprehensions and notions, to give cooking an honest try! Selfishly, I couldn’t be happier it is the Indian recipes that came my rescue. Oh, I am still not a foodie but I sure am learning to cater well to that category! And, that is far more rewarding sometimes.
On a closing note, enjoy a dollop of these wonderful quotes I collected about cooking, and eating!
“You don’t have to cook fancy or complicated masterpieces – just good food from fresh ingredients.” ~ Julia Child
“Cooking food and shopping for food brings rhythm and meaning to our lives!” ~ Alice Waters
“I love that after a day when nothing is sure… you can come home and absolutely know that if you add eggs yolks to chocolate and sugar and milk, it will get thick. It’s such a comfort.” ~ Julie Powell
“Eating is a necessity, but Cooking is an art.” ~ Anonymous
Featured photo above: a street market selling Indian spices, just look at those bright colours!
A Friday Afternoon
2:00pm on a Friday : I stifle a yawn as I stare at my to-do list on the table, clearly indicating my interest in those items. I try to shield my eyes from that bright yellow post-it pad and look at the distant sight outside the window. The cloud cover and tiny droplets on the panes tempt me further to pull out the book I’m carrying in my bag, and dare into a mid-day slumber on my rather comfortable recliner!
I see two colleagues pass by, murmuring at the printed sheets in their hands, and about ‘GeniusIT’ not producing the right numbers. I recognise one of them and we exchange customary smiles. I chuckle inside my head at the ironic name we’ve chosen for a system that is unable to produce what we want! Perhaps calling it ‘GuessIt’ is better suited, at least if not the numbers, it will stand true to its name. I smirk at my own joke, before regaining composure, and decide to get back to my excel sheets.
A few minutes later, I look at the light drizzle outside the window again. Small droplets begin to slide against the panes. I smile to myself thinking, London won’t remain the same if it doesn’t drizzle as lightly as is naturally possible, at least once a day! And, it can prove to be some fun when you don’t have to rush somewhere. I lightly stretch and stare at the changing shapes of the clouds. Locking my computer screen, I rummage for my tiny umbrella in the bag and make my way to the door in quick steps. Crossing the turnstile downstairs, I smile at the familiar face of our security guard. ‘Have a good weekend!’, he politely wishes as I spring open my umbrella and turn left outside the big glass doors. The small raindrops begin to pitter-patter on my umbrella, and my mind begins to play names like from a reel, of cafes and coffee shops that I may stop by a little later. I ask myself to slow down, and to not think so far ahead already. I breathe in deeply and blink a few times trying to be present in this moment. Among the raindrops, on the wet cemented ground, in the wet shoes and with the cool breeze that is enveloping me.
I cross the square and take to the sidewalk. I begin to enjoy the drizzle, that’s become a tad heavier than before. I see a number of black cabs zoom past. I follow the curve of the road, into the narrow alleys between tall office buildings. There are colourful umbrellas everywhere. I step into the archway that lines a large number of small and lovely take-out joints – salad bars, Thai, Indian, and Mexican take-aways, soups and sandwich joints, you name it. Most of them seem to be wrapping up, and closing for the day already. I take the tiny corridor that opens the archway onto the road perpendicular, joining the main street. Traffic here is heavy, but orderly still for a Friday afternoon. I cross the street at the signal and take to the sidewalk at the other end.
Walking on the main streets in central London can sometimes feel like a quick time-travelling exercise. Each corner turns into a different landscape, a different era. The Victorian church-spires and cathedral domes stand tall among the new glass skyscrapers and high-rises. London’s architecture and skyline are perhaps a testimony to how we can adapt to changing times while retaining some of our old self intact, within. Deep in thought, I stand at a corner and capture the views into my phone-camera. I decide to take sepia prints of it later, when I get home.
The drizzle has finally taken a pause. I walk some more, and wonder if the sun will show up. The forecast says clear weather for the rest of the evening. Wanting some tea now, I google the nearest cafe and make my way there. It’s abuzz with people but not crowded, thankfully. I order a chai-latte and pick a corner seat. I finally pull out the book I carried in my bag all week in the hope of catching a read, lay it on the table; mix some sugar into my tea and settle in for a cozy time. The light music they are playing in the cafe adds to the mood and I begin to tap my fingers on the table.
Tip-tap, tip-tap-tap, tip-tip-tap, tip-tap-tip-tip-tap-tap… when I suddenly hear ‘Ramya, can you help me with something?’. I recognise the voice but I find it tough to place it here. And, I hear my name being called out again. I look to my right and it’s my intern, looking at me possibly as quizzically as I am looking at her right now. I sit up quickly and look around, look down at my hands on the table and it dawns upon me. Taking my face into my hands, I burst into a laughter and look up to say ‘Hi!’ to my intern again. She smiles but from the way she is looking at me, she probably thinks I am part-crazy. Or, fully maybe!
After I help her with the query, I glance at my watch. 2:25pm, on the same Friday afternoon. How easily the mind wanders, I think to myself. How our mind weaves reality with wishful thinking and paints the picture we want to be a part of, within minutes! And, that’s the brilliance of the power of imagination.
I drop a text to my husband soon afterwards, ‘Meet me at the stairs outside your office building. We are going for a walk in the city this evening!’.
Perils of having a good memory
Quoting my favourite, Nora Ephron, from one of her essays as a journalist :
“I will tell you something else: they didn’t drink wine back in the early fifties and sixties. Nobody knew about wine. I mean, someone did, obviously, but most people drank hard liquor all the way through dinner. Recently, I saw a movie in which people were eating take-out pizza in 1948 and it drove me nuts. There was no take-out pizza in 1948. There was barely any pizza, and barely any takeout. These are some of the things I know, and they’re entirely useless, and take up way too much space in my brain.”
Such ease in her self-realisation.
If you identify with what Nora Ephron says about knowing and remembering (what’s usually perceived as) the useless, then you’d also agree how no one really knows why certain people are able to remember the mundane like they do! I, for one, fit the bill perfectly and have never figured the ‘how’ either (having given up on the ‘why’, a long time ago!)
At work, I know by-heart random 6-digit identifiers, exact folder locations, long names of documents and database tables, exact figures on a report, to the second decimal sometimes. I am the walking-talking reference book for my colleagues to look up such information from! As much as I try to look sheepish about it, I secretly pride myself at the marvellous memory I’ve been blessed with. Like, the other day, I related a search analysis to another we did almost 8 months ago; I recollected the details and later confirmed I was right, at which point of course, my colleague gave me a side glance with a raised brow that probably dubbed as, “Why, Ramya, why, why on earth would you remember that?!”
The152Girl 