Food Journey
While it is about food and drinks it is also about people,
places and events associated with it. It is about regrets, slips, immaturity
and lost opportunities. Also about many pleasant ones, about love and affection
and friendships.
Earliest memory of good food is ‘ sundal ‘ or ‘ usuli ‘ served in a temple in Cudalore
when I was 7 years of age. Temple has vanished from my memory but sundal
remains. The warmth soaking through leafy cup, aroma of freshly baked legumes ,
delicious taste and oddly a sense of accomplishment remains in memory.
Around the same time my romance with coffee also started. My
parents would have coffee early in the morning say around 6 am. The metallic
sound of steel cups touching one another or the kitchen platform or whatever
would wake me up. I would rush to the bathroom to brush my teeth and present
myself before my mother. She as well as father never forbid coffee for me even
when I was young. It was rather unusual indulgence. Of course I am very
grateful to them as I sip coffee in the mornings.
Shradha : We children
, four of us at that time , would be locked up or at least asked to remain
inside a room. In the adjoining room the rituals of my father’s parents’
shradha would be happening. The atmosphere there would be tense with a
lot of purifying activities ( ‘ madi ‘ , after all we were Brahmins you see ).
In our room there would be gaiety, eager anticipation and relaxed atmosphere
although there would be no outward indication of any of these but a false
solemnity. We would get Idly from a
restaurant or a food joint ( I never saw one though ) . We would be looking
forward to it eagerly with an unusual appetite. Strangely , mother used to cook
/ prepare delicious Idly and dosa regularly for such unappreciative children.
When I was young I used to put Cashews and Almonds in the
pocket ( my wife nor my daughter were there to chide me for such a unhygienic
practice ) and eat leisurely ; later I graduated to Cadbury’s milk chocolate
preferably with Almonds and raisins ; or still later chili chocolate and dark
chocolate but the basics remained the same. ( meandering a bit : when I
demonstrated how ‘ kAge enjalu ‘ could
be handy in breaking hard candies to share, Gundu was thrilled at his Grandpa’s
ingenuity )
A theatre in London serving tea and snacks during a break in
the play ; eating peanuts ( breaking shell ) in a low end Cinema theatre ,
Jayashree talkies, in Chamarajpet ; now in NPR outlets relaxing on a sofa with
popcorn and coffee -- all try to add the
comfort of food with visual delight.
CCTR – in short for Chamarajpet Central Tiffin Rooms ( almost British in name ) was a
restaurant. It had one room ( special or family ) and a general hall leading to
kitchen on one side and to the road on the other with cashier guarding that
end. Palav with raitha there was supposed to be the best in that locality. It
tasted good once or twice I had visited it. Several years later I did go to
CCTR and felt that some memories should be left undisturbed.
Thambi’s ( our class mate in Engineering , was called Thambi
because he had two elder brothers ) house, late in the evening at 10 pm, was
the place for ‘ combined ‘ studies. A middle aged man would go on the streets
selling / shouting Hurugalu , chakkali ,
kodabale …..
Fourier series , Laplace Transforms, Cauchy’s theorem,
complex variables – all could be handled with a ‘ pottana ‘ of savories.
I have thought about the vendor many times. I wish I had
spoken to him, enquired about his family, asked him if his children went to school, did he have any
other profession, how long he worked, how much he made and many others. But I
did not because I was a fool.
I have thought about
Thambi too. He was a decent, honest , intelligent man ; perhaps somewhat aloof, arrogant , rigid,
inconsiderate to others , ( regarding some qualities you might think I am
describing myself ) ; did his doctorate and went on to become a professor in
IIT Madras. Why is it that I did not keep up some links with him ?
NCC , post Chinese war : Air filled with patriotism ,
heroism ( real and imagined ) , qurbani - NCC was compulsory for two years. I
had a lot of respect for the instructors for their honesty, sincerity and devotion
to make us realize the seriousness of the problems facing the country. They
were Lance Nayaks or some equivalent low ranked professionals and paid not
well.
I loved the crisp starched ironed pants and shirts we wore,
shiny heavy black shoes … evening free
snacks of poori sagu , uppittu and even dosa sometimes.
The entire approach of NCC was wrong in my view. It was
parade and parade – left, right, left and kadam tal.
They should have introduced fitness as a theme, social work as a theme,
sports as a theme and made it interesting. However that was , I feel that the
least I could have done was to go and thank them. I feel we insulted them by our
attitude, inadvertent definitely, of
disrespect and a sense of our own superiority. I feel sad about it.
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Some places and some memories.
Uma theatre and bonda shop. This was in Chamarajpet and was
a small one less than 10 X 10 ft but evenings would be very busy. The customers
would line up and take whatever was available almost thanking him. Next door
restaurant would be empty and perhaps the owner would be eating ‘ bonda ‘ from
his prosperous neighbor. Quality , quality and quality reigned.
Ganesh bhavan in ISRO layout. Getting down from the bus in
the evening a couple of times I went there and had masala dose with Shirolikar.
Of course our homes were within minutes of walking distance !
Why is it that I never went to his or someone like DLS’ home
on an impulse and said ,’ let us go for coffee ‘.
Old people ( alas like some of us now ) after their morning
walk would wait for their Idly – Vada so that any calories inadvertently burnt
during the walk would be more than made up by a sumptuous breakfast. I used to
be a little angry with them but now I smile and move on.
SLV near Ambarish ( Mandyada gandugali , rebel star ) old
house. Even now it is one of my favorite places. Ignore health and order a
masala dose and savor it. He is also known to give ‘ by two ‘ coffee even if
you are alone. Why Ambarish ? Because that is the land mark to get there.
Shankarmut Brahmin café and famous Idly ( lonely planet fame
) with a person permanently sitting in a corner with a bucket of chutney for
second helpings. Even now when I go there I can feel a sense of eagerness and
pleasant anticipation. It is a pleasure to stand in the jostling crowd of young
and old, fit people and generously endowed ones, serious and laughing, silent
and loud ‘ my ‘ people. To watch the owner collecting money from a queue of
eager customers and dumping the money hardly counting it is also very
interesting.
IIT Madras : Evening
as the sun set , and we trudged our way to computer building to prepare for our
‘ night runs ‘, the aroma of freshly baked chapattis would fill the air. It was
from the open air cooking done by CISF ( Central Industrial Security Force ) Jawans drawn from various parts of India.
How I wish I had spoken to them and eaten a chapatti with
them.
Shivanna stores had a unique owner , aristocratic to me ,
arrogant to some ; tomato and masala
soda ; gulkan and masala puri ; the
owner sitting in a small place does not need our sympathy. He owns the entire
building of three stories.
Shettys after a long day of trade , and full of thoughts of
profit and loss and now GST headaches , finally relaxing in late evening
laughing and talking in Telugu of their own flavor.
Why is it our movies do not capture the beauty of such
things ? Multi lingual, multi cultural, multi
background , multi religious people all united for a while.
‘ kUdalaradedeyallU kaMdItu Ekateya sutra ‘ ( from Adiga’s poem Aluvakadalolu )
Cubbon park – a broad bed sheet spread on the grass with
several food items on Thali and everyone sitting around and eating ;
I wished I had a Muslim friend.
Cubbon park is always dear to me. When we were engaged ,
officially or otherwise, we used to go on my bike and spend some time with the
vendor , his cart loaded with tomatoes, puri and assorted masala powders; most
delicious and then a coffee in Tiffanis opposite. I recall Bendre’s poem (‘ hubballiyava ‘ and in particular the phrase ‘ chahada
Jodi chUda ‘ )
Udaipur bus journey ; evening and hungry passengers ; road
side stop and hot samosas on the offer ; some ‘ phirangi ‘ and health and
hygiene conscious Indians like us hesitating at first; I look faraway beyond the vendor to control
the urge but finally could not wait any longer and had the most delicious
samosas and hot tea.
Eating in the Railway pantry car was a dream come true. I
had seen it in some movies, read about such things in novels but never
experienced it. As the train speeds by and the scenery keeps changing, now
fields, now barren, now some village, but we are safe and comfortable in our ac
compartment , munching on pakoda and
drinking tea. It might be a little childish but I got ( get ) a lot of pleasure
sipping wine in a train to Machu Pichu
or in a Canadian mountain train some years back. Railways can offer a
great deal to tourists , travelers, common man , particularly in India , if only we realize
it. It has romance built into it which is lacking in air or road travel.
TIFR in early 70’s. I used to go there for computer work
when I was in IISc. I used stay with my sister in Khanjurmarg. TIFR had two
wings of canteen. East and West. Western canteen was facing the sea. It was my yearning
to sit there and have cornflakes and cold milk, bread toast , marmalade and
coffee. Either I did not have enough money or I was a miser and hence I did not
step into it. A few years back I mentioned this to one of the professors in
TIFR when I went there to supervise how the grants of the trust were being used.
Initially he was taken back and perhaps wondered what is wrong with me to mention such things. Then he laughed and we had lunch
there. I also complained to him and some other professors how like cowards they
did not contradict PM Modi’s ridiculous statement in Science Congress of
how our ancients had performed organ
transplant. They were sheepish.
I got bored of munching bland stuff with wine while
travelling out of India. So once on my way to Airport I stopped at Shastry’s
Bakery and bought some spicy chips and ‘ congress kadale beeja ‘ ( what a name ). Later in the
flight with South African wine it was so good. Desi and pardesi blending so well ! I am sure my co- passenger
must have envied me.
Mehrangarh fort overlooking Jodhpur is a beautiful one. I
was really surprised and glad to see how well they have maintained the
monuments in Rajasthan. We had dinner one evening with my niece and family. We
were seated overlooking the city. In the evening around 7 30 or 8 pm it was a
glorious sight with the fort built more than 400 years back lit behind us. You
feel a part of the history. You feel that far back in the past the king and his
queen and others would have stood there. In this case I have forgotten the
dinner but the sight and the feeling of oneness remains.
Alaska , Gundu and Mount Denali. In Alaska one afternoon I
sat with Gundu with one hand on his shoulder and holding a glass of wine in the
other. Far ahead in front of us was Denali mountain range. On one side nature ,
making you feel humble, small , insignificant and an overall sense of awe. On
the other , I engulfing my dear grand child and feeling so grateful to whom I
do not know.
Amazon river cruise was a dream . We were on the Amazon
river for 5 or 6 days . Fabulous vegetarian food far better than what one would
eat even in India. One evening we went on a small boat and around sun set our
guide stopped the boat . He asked us to remain silent for two minutes. The
silence, broken by call of birds, sound of fish jumping and falling into water,
small ,tiny waves splashing onto the boat, a few of us , men and women, from at
least four continents, with nature binding us together.
It was an evening in New Jersey just coming out of a snow
filled afternoon. There was sun, rather weak. My daughter and son in law
planned a dinner with grilled vegetables, burgers, paneer and the like. It was
glorious to watch the snow, sitting there with no thoughts of past or future
secure and warm in our winter jackets. Made even better with Gundu shouting , ‘
Ajji / Anna take your wine ‘ . You are at peace with the world.
All things bright and beautiful,
All creatures great and small,
All things wise and wonderful,
The Lord God made them all.
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Bhates ; We visited them once and had lunch . It was a
typical gujju food , several items in large measures . Then the master stroke
of my dear friend Bhate. He spreads a
mattress with no fuss and asked us to relax. It was luxury, thoughtfulness,
affection. ‘ Atthiti Devo Bhava ‘ meant that.
DHB once told me that on
guru poornima night eating outside in the open field with relatives and
friends under a canopy of stars was a tradition with them. I wish I had such an
experience.
Wedding feast – This is opposite of the above. No personal
touches, sincerely no one cares, in a
crowd you are alone. You enjoy the
anonymity . I used to dislike it because of the noise and lack of hygiene
and ( might add sheepishly ) due to
my immaturity. Now I like it – no responsibilities , vanity of women,
dressed and jeweled, utter insensitivity of men shabbily dressed and often
wearing Hawaii chappels and general
‘ people watching ‘ while you eat.
At the other extreme, flamboyant , loud, no holds barred new
year party also appeals to me. I remember a few including one in which NC Bhat was trying to light a cigarette from a hand
held burning log !
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Monaco biscuits : I was traveling alone from Nasik to
Bangalore. After I got into the second train at Pune, after some difficulty , I
realized I had nothing to eat or drink. And I had skipped breakfast. It was to
be a four hour journey to the first halt. I was exceedingly hungry. My fellow
passengers sitting opposite to me were of one family. To start with they opened
their kit and Monaco biscuits came out along with juice and tea. They would
have offered me some but I was adamant mentally and hence closed my eyes to the
torture. After that my pride would not let me ask . I was also concerned that
if I were to open my eyes I would certainly look at their food longingly. Those
four hours taught me what hunger was and what an embarrassment or even shame
someone would feel if he or she were to ask/beg. From then onwards I have never
walked away from hungry human beings.
And if they are hungry children it hurts even more . ISCON’s
initiative called ‘ Akshaya patra ‘ to
provide healthy and tasty lunch to thousands of children day after day is
something I admire a lot. I contribute whatever I can to ISCON every year. I recall with admiration MGR ( in many sense an idiot ) who introduced
mid day meals scheme to schools.
That reminds me of Mahabharata’s Dharmaraya . He used to
first feed all guests, servants and even animals such as horses in the stable
and elephants . Only when he was fully satisfied that all have been fed he
would eat. What a culture even if it is aspirational ! This is what our leaders
should be made of.
Yoga teacher Dr Nagaratna , once told us quoting from an
ancient Hindu text, that even if the
person is a criminal but hungry one must feed him first.
The prayer before every meal that we were to recite in Yoga
camp was :
Brahmaarpanam
Brahma Havir
Brahmaagnau Brahmanaa Hutam
Brahmaiva Tena Gantavyam
Brahma Karma Samaadhinah
Brahmaagnau Brahmanaa Hutam
Brahmaiva Tena Gantavyam
Brahma Karma Samaadhinah
I understand Christians say this
"Bless us, O
Lord, and these, Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy bounty.
Through Christ, our Lord. Amen."
‘daane daane pe likha hai khane wale ka naam ‘
While I don’t recite anything I am with them in spirit.
I strongly feel that if our children are well fed and no one
goes hungry and they sleep with a satisfied smile on their faces that is when
we can take pride in our nation. Real pride lies here and not in fancy
buildings or latest gadgets or hoary past or glorious future.
When I am riding on a high horse or am on a pedestal of
special, unique superiority ( self
proclaimed ) , Kanakadasa’s song cures me.
Ellaru maduvudu hottegagi
Particularly in the last couple of lines he does not spare
himself or sadhus like him.
We visited in one of our European trips, Medici or some other royal family dining hall .
Imagine a long table to seat 20 or more guests. Food and drinks served
by formally dressed persons. Sometimes the meal would last 4 or 5 hours. Guests
would take a break and walk in the huge garden overlooking the dining hall. And
gossiping, bad mouthing and even worse often plotting against the host.
In a different place in Scotland : In one infamous incident Campbell
( one of the powerful noble families ) invited another family with whom they
had feud for dinner. During the dinner every one sitting next to a Campbell was
stabbed to death.
So much for ‘ attithi devo bhava’.
Magic transformation happens when we cook. Utterly tasteless
or even of atrocious taste , bitter, hard, indigestible stuff gets transformed
into a delicious meal. One only need to eat dal, rice or raw vegetables let
alone raw meat to remind us of how cooking
has changed our lives. I feel it keenly and when the dish turns out to be
excellent ( yes I follow the recipe and not creative but even then ), I get a
sense of fulfillment and accomplishment.
Samosa making artist at work in this video.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zRjb0CWXlpo
I read that one Rajasthan royal family used to hold a party
in the garden once a month . The guests
would come and prepare dishes with their special recipe before sharing it with everyone present. I am
sure there must have been several friendships forged based on common interest.
Food served with concern, affection, love –ambience
including all these you remember it for a long time.
My grand mother used to cook well. But the problem was in
serving. She was a traditional lady who would not eat food prepared by anyone
else . She was generous in her serving. I was very fussy about the quantity as
I hated to leave any thing to waste nor would like to eat more than I wanted.
Over time my mother, sister and later wife and daughter complied. With my grand
mother I was helpless. She ignored my shouts, pleadings and serve whatever she
felt was appropriate. I, for once, was mature enough to smile. Years later Gundu
would put whatever he was eating or whatever was around – say yoghurt to my
plate of ‘ saaru ‘ and order me to eat ! I obeyed.
Story of Sudama and Krishna was one of celebrating true
friendship aided by very commonplace ‘ avalakki’ and contrast it with a
friendship that was soured by arrogance, power and wealth of drupada and dronaa . When Krishna and Sudama both
cried after ‘ avalakki ‘ I could
precisely feel why.
One does not get satiated with money, fame or wealth of various kinds but does so with food.
I want to revisit some of the places that gave me pleasure
and are associated with many memories even if there is a risk of
disillusionment.
Annadata sukhi bhava
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