Food for Thought........

Or....Thought for Food!!

I hear the devil lurking around. I hear the knives being sharpened and feel the luscious smells of garlic lingering like old medieval times to drive away evil. This is ominous and gives me the feeling of the dark ages with its gruesome stories being done on me. I even step on a lemon and incite the old traditional fear of devil following me. Smell of the burning oil gives me the jitters of being fried in the kitchens of hell. The clacking claws of these mega Crustaceans (Crabs and Lobsters) create an echo through my ears and reverberates fear in every cell of my body of being crushed into pieces. The rice gunny bags at the sides are an eerie reminder of the 1990s style of Bollywood disposing of the bodies. Before I get a hang of my surroundings, the black and white setting of my surroundings produce the silhouette of a man. This man tells me to follow him towards the seating of the main restaurant.

Childhood memories of Food

I realize that I am walking through a kitchen with Chitragupta (God of Justice). Dressed in a perfectly tailored 3-piece suit with shining boots. Chitragupta is the Chief Finance Officer of the Department of Death. He has the entire accounts of your karma to grant you to passage to heaven or throw you in the woes of hell. He walks alongside me with his steely glances and calm demeanor as if its business as usual. We enter the seating area of the restaurant. I see the white colored tables and the beautiful paintings of the Punjabi villages. I hear instrumental Hindi songs and my mind traces its history for this episode of nostalgia. Alas! It is ‘Sher-e-Punjab’ near the V.T station. Our childhood favorite joint for food. Many memories of fun and awesome food linger with this neuron of nostalgia. Chitragupta takes me to the upper deck of the hotel where I meet the one and only Mr. Yamraj (God of Death). As we seat ourselves on the table, the waiter comes with salad and their customary Jal jeera to work up an appetite. Chitragupta holds an I-pad and tells Mr. Yamraj about my pending life judgement and removes the folder of my karmas. The Biggest Folder of sin: Gluttony!!!

The Modern 'Yamraj'

Well, Food starts with the XX chromosome (our women) people on this earth. Whether it’s the nurturing womb feeding us or the mother’s milk enabling the mechanism to start eating on your own or the constant yells of mothers on drinking ‘Milk’- there is always a woman with constant nudging on our food habits. Mothers: Who give meaning to our existence with their kind nurturing hand and cooking. The impact of women on the food in my life has been like garlic in the desi Chinese: Its inseparable. A Norwegian study concluded that a perfect diet is one third carbohydrates, one third fats and one third proteins. Things in India are slightly different. Our ideal diets will comprise of 25% Carbohydrates, 25% Fats, 25% proteins and 25%: Mothers and Grandmothers love of overfeeding you. Lineages in India will testify to this fact of additional butter of the mother’s affection on the toast of life is delicious and nutritious. My mom is a big foodie and naturally the love for food had to transcend into our genes. Maharashtrian cuisine is imbibed in our eating. My mother’s dal fry, rice and Potato ‘kaap’ (Rava roasted potatoes) is heavenly. Who said that ‘Honeydew’ (Amrut) is in milk, yoghurt, honey, sugar and ghee only? It’s in the hands of mothers who know exactly the taste buds and nutrition contents for their child. India is the Amazon forest of food in the world. 

Mom cooked comfort food: Dal Rice and Potato Kaap

In fact, mom learned so many dishes outside the realm of the conventional Konkani dishes that I think Marvel/ DC should certify “Cooking” as an amazing superpower. My sister has continued the legacy with amazing Asian and Indian dishes on display on Instagram. I vividly remember the typical ‘Misal pav’ I had when I visited her in Sydney. Even though miles away in Sydney, she must be day dreaming about the food in ‘Sher-e-Punjab’. My grandmother in fact holds a special place in my Heart of food. Typically, grandmothers in India always feel that their grandchildren are underweight and under nourished. And its part of her routine to make sure that all the amazing food goes into our tummies. My grandmother’s Sol kadhi is the right ingredient for fulfillment of the soul. My maternal aunts with the ‘the Grant road Egg Pulao and Mumbai Chat items’, ‘the Ghatkopar Thai curry’ and the ‘Pen special Prawn Biryani’ have made sure that this appetite for amazing food never ceases. My paternal aunts ‘Dombivli Ganpati special food’ and ‘Mulund Punjabi cholle’ are my favorites.

My Sister's Amazing Misal
source: https://www.instagram.com/saritagynx/

As I explain my actions of food life with Mr. Chitragupta and Mr. Yamraj about the role of these women in my journey of Gluttony, the waiter in ‘Sher-e-Punjab’ gets the Soup and starters for us. Mr. Chitragupta enjoys the Manchow soup and talks about the food they had thousands of years ago when they worked overtime with fragile human health and high mortality. The primitive man had a more advanced digestive system and a less evolved brain system. The trial and error method of eating roots to worms to sustain gave Mr. Yamraj a tough time. The human stomach became a laboratory which invented the periodic table of elements back in the day. It would be Iron one day, Magnesium the other and in some cases Cyanide which closed the laboratory forever. Unperturbed, Humans caressed the bounties of this earth and traveled the world in search of food. Herbs and leaves and fruits devoured on the way, few million years before man stumbled upon the ‘The Red Flower’. The missing element of thermodynamics in the human laboratory got completed. Ayurveda’s element of nature – Fire took over man with burning capacity and entered the food chain of humans. The first person to take a sigh of relief was Mr. Yamraj. After years of toil, picking up men and women, he thought of taking a vacation with reduced deaths. Yet it was no picnic for us. Fire helped prune our gastro system but the fight to get food continued. 

Primitive Man with the Red Flower

Then years later we sowed the seeds of easy food with the cultivation of wheat. The ‘lakshya’ of man shifted from nomadic existence to building civilizations. In the video games lingo, we received the cheat code in the game of finding food. Every person did not have to toil for getting food on the plate. The responsibility went to select farmers who got the job done for us. Who says there are no shortcuts to success? I add into the conversation that I could become an Engineer and MBA because I did not have to take the additional burden of producing food from scratch. Most of us indulged in diplomas, sports, drama, inventing the i-phones and Teslas because we did not have to go hunt for food or toil in the agricultural fields. The pyramid of human endeavor rests on the able shoulders of farmers. Farmers are the real architects of Mankind. A job today which is thankless owing to our growing blindness of human progress.

Real Architects of Mankind: The Farmer

Through this intense discussion, we make our way through the delicious Dal Makhani, Paneer Butter masala and the crisp and well buttered Garlic Nan and Hyderabadi biryani.  Mr. Yamraj in a playful mood after eating a sumptuous main course asks me to guess his favorite dessert. I promptly reply “Death by Chocolate!!” Pun intended!! Mr. Yamraj roars in laughter. The sense of humor diffused my tension about the discussion of the balance sheet of my karma. As it turns out Mr. Yamraj is a connoisseur of sweets and desserts. He tells me about his journey in the 16-17^th century when dessert got its nomenclature from the French word ‘desservir’. It literally meant to clear the table. Having dessert was in fact for the royals and high class people. The luxury of cleansing the palette was the function of the dessert. Imagine a typical French family in the 1600s. Dimly lit room with golden cutlery and heaps of game meat on the table. Mashed potatoes and wine filled glass clicking and clacking with the family laughing and enjoying their supper. And to top it all the very soft creamy pastries and fruit puddings. There’s a common saying amongst us all that how much ever our tummy is full, there is always a crevice in our stomach which is hidden for the desserts. Sugar became the fashion statement in foods in those days. Sugar was for the rich people. Mass production of sugar started and eliteness started declining. However, the art of making sweets/ desserts continued to evolve.

The advanced desserts: Blueberry Cake
Source: https://www.instagram.com/temperamental_chef/

It started with the French and Italian chefs with their white hats toiling in their kitchens with powdered sugar and fruits and cream and coming up with the exquisite collection of cakes and pastries in their little bakery shops in 1700s. Our Indian chefs are no less. Much like our people who do Kashi yatra for the pursuit of nirvana, the duo of Yamraj and Chitragupta did the dessert yatra in India for pursuit of the ultimate foodgasm.  I can totally imagine Chitragupta and Yamraj to be the hosts of NDTV Goodtimes-‘Highway on my Plate’ going through various states of India, collecting the debt of deaths and enjoying the sweets from the North to the South of India.

‘Phirni’ from the land of Jammu Kashmir transcends the beauty of the Himalayas. Gorging on the Agra ‘Petha’ while roaming around the Taj Mahal. The ‘Ghewar’ from the Rajasthan royalty kitchens and sparking ‘Jalebis’ just freshly removed from the Sugar syrup from the Madhya Pradesh kitchens salivated both. The land of sweetness-Gujarat with the ‘Shrikhand’ deepened the little crevices of their appetites. Maharashtra’s humble sweet ‘Modak’ was the favorite of another Hindu Lord Ganesha. The ‘Chhena Poda’ and the Rasgullas made the bellies curvier for the people in East India. Mysore Pak from the south Indian kitchens bathed in sweet Ghee could be gulped without an iota of thought for calories. The ‘Dharwad pedha’ and the ‘Coconut Barfi’ from the southern states hypnotize the weak and spread their sweet poison into them. The Malpua and the refreshing ‘Falooda’ during the Ramzan nights always excited our secular duo. The aromas of Christmas cakes and cream pastries would lure them to the bakeries.

The delicious Jalebi and Rabdi

The virtual calories accumulated with the fantasy of the Dessert yatra gave me a sugar rush in my brain. The Chitragupta and Yamraj figures in this elevated state of mind evaporated. Day dreaming about food does make one's mind a platter for creative ways of appreciating food. What lies in the playground of my mind are the remains of the ash of my ‘gastro-fantasism’. Food is said to be a treat to all the five senses(Sight, Smell, Touch, Taste and Sound) of the body and make no mistake it does a splendid job. Food enriches us all. We dont have food for survival but survive to eat and enjoy food. So, keep eating and enjoying the fruits of existence through this gastronomical journey that life has to offer us.

"There is no sincerer love than the love of food."

-George Bernard Shaw