Food Is Fun

The one regret I now carry in my life is that I can no more indulge in food. But this regret vanishes as soon as I go back to the days when I was carefree and a gourmet. Well, I cannot claim to have been a gourmet, for I ate anything and everything. I loved the food. When I now recollect my food habits, a few instances immediately come to my mind which I intend to share with you today.

The food in my house was spartan, so to say. My parents believed in simple and healthy eating habits and as kids, my brother and sisters used to rebel, though not openly. My parents hardly ever took us out to eat. Our only option was to wait for the right opportunity, and these came far and few between.

I love marriages in North India, they are so fun and fantastic! My opportunity would come when there was a North Indian marriage that we could attend. On these special occasions, I would fast. No breakfast, lunch or snack in between. On the eve of the marriage, I would dream of the fare that awaited me the next evening. My favourite was the delicious Chole-Bhature with its exquisite taste. I remember how, whenever I got some money from my parents, I would rush to the Bhature wala in my locality. The very sight of chole piled up in the large vessel on a slow-burning stove would send saliva racing down my tongue. The bhatura would be made fresh, rolled expertly and put in the frying pan full of hot and sizzling oil. The very noise the raw bhatura made when it was thrown into the pan would make me thrilled. When the bhatura bloated like a balloon inside the pan, I would know my time to travel to heaven has come. The bhature-wala would lovingly put chole on a plate made of leaves, added spices and salt to taste, throw some finely chopped onion over it and toss the plate with his hands to ensure the stuff mixed well. He would then put a couple of whole green chillies and hand it over to me. I tell you, nothing tastes better than a hot plate of chole-bhature.

Well, returning to the wedding, you would have guessed by now that after the long fasting how I must be feeling. Weddings during winter were special. We would be welcome with a hot cup of expresso coffee. I don’t know how many of you have enjoyed this. There used to be this big coffee-maker, the machine in which coffee was made. Hot water would be boiled in it, and then coffee powder (Nescafe), sugar and hot milk would be added. There was this pipe on the machine which was used to create a foam-like froth to the coffee. When your cup is full with coffee and the foam cocoa powder would be sprinkled over it to sweeten the taste. That was the beginning of my gourmet session.

In most North Indian marriages, starters are served and this makes you wonder if you can reach the table for the main course. Vegetarian Kebabs, pakoras and cutlets...it is a long list. But I was not the one to be daunted. I knew I was ready for the challenge and would never miss one item!

Finally, it is time for the main fare. The actual wedding ceremony, the pheras, would happen well after midnight. But dinner will not wait. I would invariably be eyeing around for the all-important signal to begin the dinner. Someone would wave at the waiters and the process of taking off the big lids from the dishes would start.

As you know by now, I was ready and raring to go. I was amongst the first to hit the line, even as guests began to scramble for the plates. I would have already surveyed the dishes and my first stop was at the chole-bhature counter. There was no limit to eating here, and it was all for free. Half a dozen bhaturas later, I would amble up to other counters to taste the different varieties on offer.

I was finished with eating, having stuffed myself more out of greed than need. But, it was not yet over and done. The final halt would be the Dessert counters. Notice the plural. I would start off with carrot halwa, a staple item during winters, gulp down a few gulab jamuns ( again a staple fare) and finally hit the ice-cream stall. A couple of big scoops of Vanilla ice-cream ( yes, that is my favourite) to begin with. Thereafter, try a mix of carrot halwa, Gulab Jamun and ice cream (you must try it sometime) and then finally washing everything down with another cup of expresso coffee. 

I am not ashamed to admit to you that so much of eating would make me gluttonously full and many times I would go home and throw up. My parents would rebuke me for the indiscriminate eating and my sisters and brother would laugh at me. I would hang my head in shame and promise to my parents that I would never do it again. But, as you know, promises like these are never made to be kept.

Well, I have eaten a lot of chole-bhature as well as Kulcha-chole in my life, but I still cannot erase memories of tasting them in my childhood.

Just as I thought that Chole-Bhature was my first and last love, I got married and my wife introduced me to the joys of eggs. I am from a strictly vegetarian family, but she made me break my vow. The moment I had my first Omelette, I realised that I had been missing something in my life thus far. My love for Chole-Bhature stood diluted and disappointed with me as I took to eggs like some long-lost lover. Omelettes, boiled eggs, scrambled eggs, fried eggs, half fried eggs....how divine. The best ever I had was in the city of Meerut at a stall near one of the prominent petrol pumps! The chap would beat the eggs so expertly that a two-egg omelette would look like a four-egg omelette! 

Misfortune struck when I was declared a diabetic. Now I stick to Kichri, dal, egg-white only sometimes and a host of other insipid food.