Celebrating Passion for Food
Let me be honest, we decided to make this tomato chutney last week as a stop gap arrangement. Let me narrate my complete story. I had sensed, looking at my past week schedule and by the scale of work left at office that this week is not going to be any different, which meant going pretty early to office and by the time I would come back home, I would be so tired that I would have no time nor energy to do any prep work for my next day breakfast.
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Love is in the air. The Monsoons have come, and with its arrival this air has become scented. The dry and lifeless summer that serves as a precursor to lively monsoon makes this atmosphere dry and insipid. The earth dries up, weaker trees and plants, shrubs and bushes wither away and those that bear strength would wait for that first drop of rain. Everything comes to a standstill; it is as if every creature is praying for the arrival of the first shower. Finally the day arrives; the dark cloud encircles the earth and cool breeze begins to blow, announcing the much anticipated arrival of the dignitary that everyone’s been waiting for with the bated breath.
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Saturday mornings are when I prefer snuggling in the bed a little longer. However, last Saturday, my thin quilt could not keep me warmer and the overwhelming breeze from the ceiling fan moving at highest RPM meant that the room became too cold and I had to get up to switch off the fan. It is then, I realized that the coolness was due to the overcast condition that the morning sky had. I walked into the balcony, stood by the railing, gazing at the sky and admiring the gathering of dark clouds which indicated the imminent showers.
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Phirni or Firni is one of the most famous dessert recipes globally. It is essentially a rice pudding that is made world over in different forms and has several variations. Let’s talk about rice first. Rice has been the staple food for many cultures all over the world. How the word ‘Rice’ has originated and evolved over centuries travelling from one country to other is a fascinating tale.
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This time of the year, monsoon gradually spreads across the India and summer lazily packs its bag and lingers around as if it is in no rush to leave the scene. It is akin to that reluctant kid who has been asked to leave but he just hangs around in case if he would be asked to come back in. However, with the end of summer season it is also the end of wedding season in India. In India when every small task is done within the shubh muhurat (auspicious time to perform a ceremony), every job change, house warming, job interview is done as per shubh muhurat, and then it should be no surprise that every wedding is also fixed for a sacred time. In India there are primarily two seasons for wedding summer and winter.
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Spices, to define them technically, are dried seeds, fruits, root, bark or vegetable substance that is used as a flavoring, thickening, and preserving agent. If I have to define them philosophically, they are the heart and soul of Indian cooking. They have always been an integral part of Indian culture and play an important role in enhancing the richness of this ancient civilization along with our music, art, clothes. You would find mention of spices in ancient Hindu scriptures like Rigveda. Spices have been part of Indian cuisine since time immemorial. Many of these spices like pepper, cloves, cinnamon originated in India, while others like star anise, sesame, saffron were introduced later as trades were setup, new kingdoms were established, older kingdoms destroyed.
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Many a times, we are too lazy to cook a complete meal and seek refuge in the comforts of what is known as “one dish meal”. We all should have handful of such recipes ready in our repertoire, because you may never know when you are too tired after your office work and may not want to spend next couple of hours toiling in kitchen. My go to comfort food, on such busier days would be kadhi-chawal.
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I was born in Mumbai and grew up in the city. I ended up romanticizing the city for anything and everything that it had to offer me. My parents however would often miss their rural roots. They would narrate me and my sister several funny anecdotes of the village where they were born, they grew up, where they shared laughs and grief with their cousins and uncles and aunts, and which they left with heavy heart for the city of Mumbai in search of better opportunities. I still remember, though not as clearly, but my memory still is fresh in parts, my first trip through the dusty bylanes on an open jeep leading to my ancestral home in a small village in Uttar Pradesh.
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