The girl in the restaurant

So it’s that time of the year again. J and I, like last year, are once again etching out a near perfect plan of stay in India this July over our extremely brief three week ‘vacation’. I quote the word vacation since we spend so much time in Mumbai and Bengaluru traffic that watching idle vehicular exhaust and unimaginative grocery store names automatically becomes a big part of our stay there. Hopefully this time around there will be some respite from that. Anyway, among the top things we always include in our trip is room for fantastic gastronomy. She recommends a long list of places to go and try food at in Mumbai while I dish out choice eateries from in and around namma Bengaluru. Over such a conversation recently I mentioned the famous restaurant chain Adigas. Having tasted the food there a few times I thought it was time J too had the opportunity to do the same. But then, the mere mention of its name took me back a few years to a peculiar incident that took place in that restaurant in Malleshwaram one evening. This blog, hence, is a reflective piece of the same.

A friend and I were returning after watching ‘Superman Returns’ in hope of enjoying a deservedly hearty meal at the restaurant after having been subjected to a dud of a movie. As is customary in such famed places we had to wait for about half an hour with other eager faces and grumbling stomachs in the reception before we were ushered in. Once the doors came ajar and the person there helped us to a table, we realized that we would have to share it with four slightly loud middle aged men. But then the allure of the delicious meal was so tempting that to put up with their cacophony seemed liked the least worrisome thing to do. So we settled down exchanging pleasantries as, moments later, a family came and sat down at the table next to ours. It was a family of five people – the parents and their three children. The eldest one was a girl, about twelve years old; the second was a boy, slightly younger than her, maybe ten and the last was an infant asleep in its mother’s arms. Their dress indicated that they possibly came from the lower middle class and the extra shades of talcum powder on their necks indicated that they probably didn’t go out as much and that this outing to Adigas was something the family had been looking forward to for quite a while. This became even more apparent as the girl grabbed the menu that was given to them by a slow moving waiter and whispered sharply to her brother – ‘See! See! I told you they had it!’ – emphasizing on the ‘it’ to indicate that they both were anxiously awaiting some particular dish. The enthusiasm on their faces made me smile a little as I thought back of my childhood days where we would sit in such high end restaurants and have tomato soup with a piece of hard bread floating in it with much pride.

The friend and I then got busy with ordering our meal and I didn’t notice much of the family after that. A few minutes later though, my friend got a call and she stepped out to take it. That was when I had the chance to notice something peculiar. As it appeared the father was not very pleased with the prices of the dishes. It was clear that it was possibly not within the budget they had in mind. Noticing their reluctance the boy began whimpering as he now knew what was coming. The girl, on the other hand, maintained her optimistic smile and continued to listen carefully at what her parents were discussing. The slow waiter returned with that condescending look you get in restaurants in India where you get gauged by these fellows by merely looking at what you are wearing. A repulsive attitude that refuses to go away. ‘People are waiting outside sir!Hurry up!’ he moaned as he noticed the family fidget with the menus. The father then inquired about a few dishes to which the waiter carelessly kept nodding a NO and looked on dispassionately at their discomfort as if secretly enjoying their public ordeal.

Finally the father gestured to the daughter and without a word the family began to get up. As the parents walked away with an apologetic grin on their faces the waiter returned and said something to the little girl I will never forget ‘You can have the water if you want. It’s free.’ She, instead of frowning or ignoring him completely simply smiled back as she had done so gracefully until then, added a genuine laugh and responded ‘Thank you uncle!’ She then comforted her brother who was now in tears as the two slowly walked out hand in hand from the restaurant without having consumed a single thing there.

Something cracked inside me silently that evening. Amid the din of the crowd that sat gorging on a dozen dishes and guffawing in the cool comfort of their wealth, I could clearly hear the crackle of that little girl’s young broken heart. Her brother had chosen to let his tears bring him relief while she, still a child herself, had battled the public scene with such grace and determination. Today as I think of her I sincerely hope that she finds much success and that well deserved spotlight of fame to reward her refreshing optimism in this cynical world. I also wish that someday she can take her parents and siblings back to such a restaurant and order a big fat meal that will contain every dish she has ever wanted.

Goals matter

Maybe it’s the fact that I tend to associate every philosophical discourse to something I can actually relate with. Or maybe it is just that I am so bored sometimes, that I start to notice the weirdest connections in the most unlikely places. Maybe it’s both. I can’t say for sure. But as I sat at that diner today gorging on that vegetarian pizza something struck me as very odd. Now before I go on, some background here. I, about once a month, visit this ‘all you can eat’ pizzeria on my way to the Indian groceries in the city. While the food is good and comes at a standard price, there is one little oddity that always has me pondering. Ordinarily if I were to go to a regular restaurant and order a pizza, then I see myself lapping up every single slice of a large pizza without any leftovers along with a large coke! Why is this odd? Because, in this earlier mentioned ‘all you can eat’ diner I find myself struggling to go past six small slices! I have tested it each time and somehow, the mind refuses to acknowledge that in a different circumstance, I can easily down 10 slices without a problem as long as I can see them all at once.

This got me thinking. Is it because there is no limit to how much I can eat – ergo meaning, ‘no goal’ – that I find myself stopping at six? And in other cases when there is 10 slices, I have a goal to meet? And hence I manage to eat them all? I don’t know. Come to think of it, the same is true with other things too. Imagine having to go to a mall or a bazaar without any goal in mind. Chances are you will spend a few hours there and end up buying nothing important. Same case, if you go with maybe a list of things to look at, then you find yourself not only buying the stuff you need but also in good time! How about shopping at a supermarket when you go there without a list? Don’t you always buy 10 more things you never thought you would? And don’t you find yourself bringing it home and wondering ‘God…why did I buy this?’ and never using it ever?

I don’t know. Maybe all this means nothing. But today as I left the diner having devoured six small slices and feeling very full, I wondered if next time I should try putting 10 slices at once on the plate instead of having to eat three at a time. But then…maybe that won’t look too good, would it? So I guess then it’s settled. Goals do matter regardless of its purpose. Even if it means just ‘lunch’. What do you think?

..ShaKri..

[ShaK Recipe] - Okra Kurma / Bhindi Gravy

Dear Reader,

Presenting another little experiment of mine that I tried out today listening to some Alejandro Sanz in the background. Okra Kurma, it is called. A concoction made with okra and spices. I am attaching below the mouth watering result and following it is the recipe. Hope you try it too and enjoy it as much as I did with my stuffed aaloo paratha!

Ingredients

Okra/Bhindi/Lady's Finger - about 15 (thoroughly washed and VERY dry)
Onions - 1
Tomato - 2
Ginger/Garlic paste - 1/2 teaspoon
Coconut paste - 1 table spoon
Oil - 1 table spoon
Curry leaves - a few
Red Chilly Powder - 1 teaspoon
Coriander Powder - 1 teaspoon
Turmeric Powder - a pinch
Mustard seeds - for seasoning


Method

Wash and pat dry the Okra. It has to be very dry. Cut them into 1 inch pieces and fry on dry tawa till it changes bright green in colour. Keep aside.

Heat oil add mustard seeds, curry leaves. Then add chopped onions and sauté till they are brown in colour. Then add ginger garlic paste and fry well for a couple of minutes.

Then add nicely chopped tomatoes, chilli powder, coriander powder, turmeric powder and salt to taste. Cook the dish till tomatoes are well cooked. Then add the Okra and mix well. Add coconut paste with water. Cook on high flame for 5 mins. Simmer for 10 mins until the gravy thickens.

And that's it! Enjoy with rice and/or roti with daal.


I hope you try this out some day and enjoy it as much as I did. It's great with aaloo paratha as you can see in the mouth watering photograph I have added above. Cheers!


..ShaKri..

Tomato Dosa - experimenting with food!

Dear reader,

Xmas vacations are a time for me to expand my cooking skills and try out new recipes. I am not much of a chef, per say, but I do experiment with things I feel meet my basic cooking skills. This new recipe - Tomato Dosa - was one among them. I am attaching an image of the dosa I ended up making. I had it with some spicy Karela gojju (the # 1 favorite dish on my list) for dinner tonight so thought of sharing the joy - and the recipe!

Ingredients:
1 cup raw rice (about 200 grams)
4 medium sized ripe tomatoes
4-5 long red chillies
Coconut - shredded or a can of coconut milk
Salt to taste


Method:
1) Wash and soak rice in water for about 2 hours.
2) Grind together - coconut, tomatoes and red chillies to a fine paste. Make sure there are no lumps.
3) Add rice slowly to this mixture and keep grinding until a fine batter is ready. Add salt to taste and grind it one more round.
4) This dosa is not like a rice dosa where it has to be turned to be cooked. So, ensure that the batter is a tad thin - but not too thin like Neeru Dosa either.
5) Pre-heat the pan with a little oil and ensure the pan is really hot.
6) Pour batter on it in circular motions. One swift motion recommended without spreading it around like a regular dosa.
7) Sprinkle a little more oil on it and cover it with a lid to let both sides cook for about 2-3 minutes.
8) Once done fold it carefully and put it on a plate. And thats it!


I am sure there are several variations for this that more experienced folks can accessorize with. For me, this was heaven considering I had it with Hagalkai Gojju!


Cheers,
ShaKri