The latter part of the statement might look a little offensive to a few but nevertheless the statement precisely tries to capture the simple changes in the social lives that our generation has witnessed. The change was inevitable with the change in millennium and we the kids of today might consider ourselves lucky to see it in the happening.
As a male of the late twenties, I admit that this abrupt change in social standing has deeper repercussions in our lives and I am sympathetic to my friends out there who are in the same boat. We are the innocent bunch of idiots who believed that our lives would end without an actual personal visit to the forbidden room of the house, the most magical of all 'The Kitchen'. The nomenclature seems amusing is it ? well how else do you explain the stinking fishes, smelly garlic, soiled vegetables and other such items entering the room and out comes on a dish the most beautiful creation of all, that satisfies 4 out of the 5 senses (viz. sight, smell, touch & taste). A closer look might reveal that they are washed cut and then put into the Frying pan and as if by sorcery after a few pinches of salt, spices and an intermittent pattern of turning the ladle your dish is ready and served on the table. It is a different thing that we never put much thought about it once it is on the table as we are then busy savoring it. As a kid you are almost always swat away from that room, often due to the sharp and dangerous utensils that are left unattended in that area of the house. While growing up even when you at times had the urge to unravel the mystery, you are either put down or ridiculed to even have made an attempt. The girls on the other hand seem to have a right to enter that room but the ones with whom we grew up with even renounced that. I am sure that a great deal of knowledge might have lived and died with the lady of the house. Alas the most important stake holders of the recipe, we the guys of today might be loosing everything if we don't stand up, not as a protest but in an attempt to at least keep the home cooked tradition alive.
One such day in my life when I was fed up with the occasional visits to the eateries where either the food was too greasy or too spicy. It takes much to see in life and years of travelling away from home to actually realize that home cooked food might not be a taken for granted thing anymore. You keep begging the hotel owners, with an added incentives but you never get your taste buds satisfied. We than feel apologetic to the times when we used to whine and be choosy as to what was in lunch while today we gladly accept what the others have to offer with a basic expectation on the table but even that is barely satisfied. During such hard times I pulled up my socks or rather a simple jute bag and went to the nearby vegetable shops that I found typical of 'Rajajinagara' a residential area in the not so modern parts of Bengaluru. Instead of what today's generation might get back to for a quick fix I was quite an old-fashioned , partly due to inadequacy of internet connectivity and primarily because it would not be wrong to term me a person close to his mother.... OK OK I get it I am a 'mamma's boy ', well all your taste buds were seasoned after consuming her food for almost 18 prime years of your lives and going back to the source is what seemed legit. I called her up as usual to mark my attendance, yes my mother expects a call everyday as if it is an attendance register and any act of absence will be dealt with harsh emotional rebuke resulting in compensation for the lost time on the following days. Well on that occasion, I ,answering her most important question ' Have you had your food?'/" Khana khaya?"/"Khaisos?" with no general response but an honest plea of unraveling the mystery of cooking. Housewives have always been seen to guard that one knowledge that seems to give them the important respectable position in the family. Numerous examples are hovering my mind but the one that aptly and subtly supports the claim is the scene from the Ray classic ' Ashani Sanket' where after a hard day work the main protagonist who is a learned Brahman overwhelmed with satisfaction from the food served asks the mystery behind. 'Babita' who plays his wife replies that he is a learned man and the whole village acknowledges his wisdom, as his wife he demands the same respect with her unique culinary skills.
Well anyhow with the little guidance that she was able to give me on the phone I took the ladle and other tools, holding them like swords and shield to conquer the territories of mankind that was actually aloof from men. I don't know what came out of it and don't remember how things went on, but may be through numerous attempts and trying them on hungry guinea pigs who happen to be my room mates or friends who came to visit me, I gathered the basic idea of making a dish which is not a bad development after all. Now at least I am confident that I can make something out of a bunch of edible raw materials and present something on the table that might not be a culinary delight but not a disaster either. It is said that the knowledge transfer from a Guru to the disciple reaches a mile stone when you are able to outperform the Guru. May be it's a great expectation but glad that it already started, for instance I can use the knife better than her or make perfect sunny side ups. Since my sister would never venture this area I really feel about a special family recipes that I was introduced to as the "Paul Saaag". Seems after the death of my grandparents my mother reserves the patented rights to prepare that, hope I will prove to be a rightful heir.
My experiences in this foreign land might also develop many of my competencies or rather reveal many which I already have.The best thing about a person from the Indian subcontinent is that we are pretty well versed with the spices. Now I understand why the western world was so eager to visit India, our spices actually make them crazy. Even an average preparation would pass by them as the best dish of the day or even their lives. With the arrangements that I see a normal European kitchen to be equipped with, the possibilities seems endless.
Saying this I suddenly realize that was not the first I had ventured in the kitchen, it was when my maa ordered me to make 'Chaa' or Tea. I remember how I lit the match and held it to the burner of the gas stove and in contrary to the usual golden yellow flame that we see in fire , I was amazed at the cool blue light. The water filled vessel mounted on top of it with bubbles forming random patterns and circling the pan in a whirlpool, to which I sprinkled the tea granules. Magically in the same pattern the colorless fluid kept taking the brownish tinge that darkened with time. If this is not magic what is ?
Well anyhow with the little guidance that she was able to give me on the phone I took the ladle and other tools, holding them like swords and shield to conquer the territories of mankind that was actually aloof from men. I don't know what came out of it and don't remember how things went on, but may be through numerous attempts and trying them on hungry guinea pigs who happen to be my room mates or friends who came to visit me, I gathered the basic idea of making a dish which is not a bad development after all. Now at least I am confident that I can make something out of a bunch of edible raw materials and present something on the table that might not be a culinary delight but not a disaster either. It is said that the knowledge transfer from a Guru to the disciple reaches a mile stone when you are able to outperform the Guru. May be it's a great expectation but glad that it already started, for instance I can use the knife better than her or make perfect sunny side ups. Since my sister would never venture this area I really feel about a special family recipes that I was introduced to as the "Paul Saaag". Seems after the death of my grandparents my mother reserves the patented rights to prepare that, hope I will prove to be a rightful heir.
My experiences in this foreign land might also develop many of my competencies or rather reveal many which I already have.The best thing about a person from the Indian subcontinent is that we are pretty well versed with the spices. Now I understand why the western world was so eager to visit India, our spices actually make them crazy. Even an average preparation would pass by them as the best dish of the day or even their lives. With the arrangements that I see a normal European kitchen to be equipped with, the possibilities seems endless.Saying this I suddenly realize that was not the first I had ventured in the kitchen, it was when my maa ordered me to make 'Chaa' or Tea. I remember how I lit the match and held it to the burner of the gas stove and in contrary to the usual golden yellow flame that we see in fire , I was amazed at the cool blue light. The water filled vessel mounted on top of it with bubbles forming random patterns and circling the pan in a whirlpool, to which I sprinkled the tea granules. Magically in the same pattern the colorless fluid kept taking the brownish tinge that darkened with time. If this is not magic what is ?
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