A Food story…continues

A few months ago…

You cannot spend the days of your life indulged in absolutely nothing. Human minds are wonderfully designed in such ways that they somehow find means to revitalize their dormant self’s with interesting and challenging ideas. This could relieve you from monotonous diets, meaningless hobbies, depleting gray cell and diminishing self-esteem. I for instance shake myself up with food cravings. Since I have a lot of time and patience I go with it real slow. I cannot afford to make a mistake here unlike my past unaccountable spinster life. So, I spend a lot of time researching on recipes, watching cooking videos, reading blogs and finding the right ingredients …real slow. So far I have been experimenting with recipes within India and I can proudly state that inspite of being an amateur most of the dishes turned out pretty good. Still, I gradually started feeling my enthusiasm about it swaying until a few weeks ago. I was going through a food blog and here I came across some interesting Arabic dishes. Woooooooh! After almost a year there on the web page I find a popular recipe for Shawarma. I knew I had to try it out, there was no second thoughts. I went through the ingredients and the cooking procedures …okay the recipe seemed simple, a few ingredients were typical Arabic spices obviously hard to come by in America and besides there were limitations of home style cooking, not having a rotisserie for instant.

A few weeks ago…

I was walking through the aisles of spices and sauces in a shop and there! I could have missed it but lucky me …the one ingredient that was standing between me and my Shawarma recipe. I grabbed the bottle, made sure it wasn’t my fantasy, didn’t bother to check the price; you normally don’t for noble causes and bought the rascal home. I had a stock of a few spices I bought from my various shopping- spree. Well, none of them were used in the recipe I picked for my task, but during my research I found them listed in a few other Shawarma recipes. So, here, I decided to bend the stick a little- alter my chosen recipe, use two of the spices I have instead of the one I don’t have.

Yesterday…

I finalized the one recipe I am trying out and watched its video… The recipe seemed easy enough so I planned my menu thus - to make pita bread (Kuboos equivalent), a shredded chicken filling and a mix of vegetables to go along with it into the wrap and also a side dish of hummus or tahini sauce, which one I haven’t decided yet. Wow! I am so excited but I am not as confident as to rate it high. Just give it my best and hope it turns out decent. I want it to be a surprise to hubby when he comes home after work mainly because he too shared my love for Shawarma.

Today…   

10 am

Today looks bright enough and beautiful with light showers. I...cut, cleaned, marinated and refrigerated the chicken with all the spices and condiments…roasted and ground the ingredients for the sauce. Pita bread!! Oh I totally forgot.

55 minutes past noon.

My chicken shreds are marinating in a variety of spices and flavor. The recipe says marinate for two hours I’m gonna keep it for a while longer than that.

1:15 pm

Okaay! Imagine Arabs cooking Sambar. It’s gonna be really tough for them. The lady in the video made it sound so easy. Well it’s not …her food processor ground the sauce ingredients into a fine watery paste in less than one minute. My Indian mixer grinder is taking more than 15 minutes and all my patience to even break the contents into tiny bits let alone grind it into a fine paste. It’s taking hell lot of time. There is no time even to consider making hummus… just how they say too many cooks spoil the broth… I fear too many first time recipes might spoil the meal so I think I will cut down Hummus and stick to the sauce alone. So it will be chicken, veg mix, tahini sauce and pita bread. OOPS! I forgot the vegetables …those green leafy …abundant in all the stores…left for the last minute…forgotten!! So it’s gonna be pita bread, chicken shreds and tahini sauce.

5 pm

I am done.

Pita bread - Flour …fermented…kneaded…rolled….baked. Marinated chicken strips - grilled and sauce – white, watery slightly bitter but tasty done.

Okkay! Personally speaking they turned out to be not that great but not bad either. I have my doubts on whether it will be a pleasant surprise for hubby as I anticipated. Pita bread turned out rough and slightly crispy at sides. I did everything as per the recipe; I mean every ingredient and all. But it turned out to be hard and crispy at places instead of soft and moist as any bread is supposed to be. The chicken for which I had such great hopes turned out the same. I mean I waited for the key ingredient for months. They were supposed to come out moist and soft instead they look more related to candy sticks. Now when I think of it, I feel like I should have strictly followed the recipe and should have shallow fried it in olive oil (I went around the recipe and grilled it to save manpower). DAMN. I believe it’s because I left the two in the oven for too long. Too much heat takes away the moisture or so I read somewhere…Anyways.

Well, all hopes are not lost. I would serve this to hubby without ever telling him it’s meant to be a Shawarma. So he would never compare and judge with the original. Instead he would just have it as one of my latest experimental dish. Yea, that sounds like a plan.

6:00 pm

Hubby came home famished, God bless! He said the sauce was good ...said it repeatedly two, three times. He commented that the Pita bread and chicken were stiff (tell me about it). But he loved the sauce…I had one and 3 quarters Shawarma (discarded the crispy parts). He had four, luxuriously loaded with the stiff chicken and the life savior sauce.

Around 9 pm

After a hard day’s work, I went for a walk to relax myself. I came home a little earlier than hubby who was back after his usual volleyball match. Normally, he would come home yelling for dinner right from the doorway, but today nothing. It was like any other normal day in our life, except, we had an extra early mammoth Dinnneeerrrrrrrrrrrr!!

“Humor keeps us alive. Humor and food. Don't forget food. You can go a week without laughing.” Joss Whedon

A Food Story… a really long one at that!

As usual after another long gap, I found myself a topic motivating enough to type in.

Almost a year ago….

During the last days I spent in the Techno park city I and my friend Nicky made it a plan to try out the food varieties in and around the Techno park city. Basically it was to save ourselves from the daily hassles and puzzles of planning and executing the kitchen arts. Both our husbands were away for work, so there were not anyone else to share either the meals or the chores. Even though we were to join them in a couple of months’ time, the loneliness or laziness of having to cook for oneself, eat alone and to clean up after is what intrigued us to indulge in such a routine.

Okiie! Now it’s not like we had every single meal together. The meal schedules went roughly like this…we had breakfasts on our own, from our personal hot spots on the way to work, we shared lunch mostly catered by the homemade food caterers (one of these lunch packets were feasts enough for both of us). Occasionally, we frequented the food courts and restaurants in and around the park for dinner. For the record, there were so many options. But we mainly targeted the ones in Tejeswini and Bhavani (buildings). Even though the dent it caused on our budget was slightly higher than that was otherwise we considered it compensated against our stress, expense of time and the phantom limb effect caused by the temporary absence of our nuptial partners. It felt good having meals prepared and served by someone else for a change.

There were those days when we had our own dinner plans mostly because of clashes in time and convenience.  On such days I frequented the small restaurant chains in the Kazakootam city where they sold every typical non veg eating Keralites’ favorite food. It’s a blind man’s guess Shawarma and the Shawai- they call it. Before I continue the tale, let me give you a brief account on the gravity of this statement.

As far as I know, both of them, Shawai and Shawarma, hail from the great Arab nations. And because of the boundless relationship between Kerala and the Gulf countries they made their grand entrance in to Gods own country and indisputably into every Malayalee hearts. They established their presence not only in the big cities but also in the small towns. Every evening the small chain of restaurants along the road side of Kazakootam city sold them like hot pancakes.

The aroma of slow cooking meat on rotisseries crowned with a lemon’s half, wafting through the air was intoxicating. The shop boy would scrape the meat from the outer layers of the rotating rotisserie. He would then mince and mix the grilled meat with chopped vegetables like cabbage, lettuce and onions. Then he would grab a Kuboos, (Kerala Kuboos is of a softer texture and taste than that of the original Arabic Kuboos or pita bread) pat them with a gentle amount of tahini sauce, fill it with the minced and mixed vegetable and grilled meat or chicken, roll it around and wrap it up…there your delicious Shawarma is ready to go.

The case of Shawai is a similar story in terms of torture for the chicken and delight for the onlookers. Full naked chickens coated with rich aromatic marinade are horizontally poised on rods which keep rotating inside a high temperature grill. This one is the actual temptress.  

I tried to avoid the stalls but somehow my senses and my feet drag me to them. It’s just like Frodo Baggins at the hands of the Ring. I try to fight my temptation down with reasons but their ruckus in my head just gives away to the thud of the knife slicing down the maliciously beautiful shiny and juicy pieces of the Shawai. I pay no heed to the cries of the pimples on my face and totally ignore the reprimands of my belly fat. Beyond that, I forget the sole purpose of my daily 1 hour long walk. As in a trance I order my Shawarma or Shawai. Take them home and have them all to myself in grave silence. I ingest them in guilt, guilt of having to pay double the price of a normal chicken for a half Shawai, guilt of having to make frequent withdrawals form my ATM accounts and the guilt of accumulating all the extra fat. I prayed to God to relieve me from this temptation and deliver me from this evil. I suppose my prayers were so strong that he did not just deliver me alone from the evil but almost all the people of Kerala.

The news broke out like an epidemic. The grills and rotisseries disappeared. The stalls that sold them shut down for indefinite period. Off course the fear of one’s life holds a higher leverage over any temptations. A student died of food poisoning from Shawarma and a celebrity family was hospitalized for the same. Widespread raids and inspections were conducted by the food safety authority and horror stories were brought to light. The sight of unhygienic and unethical practices of the hoteliers curdled the blood in every vein. The news flashes displayed the raids, shut downs and license cuts of even the popular hotels and restaurants, left the hotel food loving Malayalees absolutely numb.

People started cooking food for themselves, they didn’t mind the hassles and puzzles of cooking or eating alone or cleaning up after each meal. In fact, they enjoyed the weekly visits to the market, walking through the aisles of fresh vegetables, hearing each vendor call out to you to buy from them. People never doubted the vendors on the prices they charged, there were no price tags or billing machines to validate, you just had to take the vendors word for that. People even bargained just for the fun of it. It was an exhilarating experience which was a soothing balm, over the hurt feeling of the trauma inflicted by the Shawarma -Shawai tragedy. People even discussed the victorious tales of their bargain purchases during their office chit-chats over coffee breaks with their friends who as well adopted a similar change of life style. People started understanding the values of freshly cooked nutritious food especially the economic and physiological advantage of it over the pathogen culture enriched food they were served at the hotels. In their hearts they thanked God, and heaved a sighs of relief that they weren’t the innocent victims of the deadly Shawarma and Shawai.

On the days ahead of us the air didn’t seems that intoxicated or tempting to me. I, for instance never bought a Shawarma or Shawai from the stalls again. (To be contd…!)

"When you gradually add in nutrient-dense, fiber-rich foods, you simply stop feeling cravings. You run out of space in your belly for the old junk. Instead of craving, you feel full, fulfilled, and content."
Kathy Freston

Frosts and Seasonings

April 8, 2013

 

(Since it’s the first time one encounters these many variations of climate and weather conditions, one is compelled to express the array of emotions and expressions one experiences in the event.)

 

I was just going through the previous page and enjoying the depth of my ignorance when I wrote it. Well on my support it was the start of winter and the show had only just begun. Later on, when the winter caught up on its full swing the snow wasn’t that admirable after all. There were days when I stayed indoors, for days without even a tiny peek outside. Literally; and that was because I hated what I saw outside. There was not a single leaf on the trees just the trunk and the branches. They looked like skeletons, alive but still and indifferent to the coldness of nature plausibly. Some of the days showed up with spotlights of sunrays without much warmth and then there were also those grey days with light showers, all with a common denominator of strong and chill winds.

 

March 20^th was supposed to be the start of spring. But we had to wait for almost another month to finally call it. There was a heavy snow forecast towards the end of March on the Palm Sunday. The Sunday church service was moved to Saturday evening. Almost everything that ran on the road and moved on the sidewalks stayed clear off the usual paths. Mr. Jones even lost one of his strong sturdy branches in the course. It snowed continually for 2 days ,the scenes reminding us of the shot from Narnia. The whites looked just like frostings on a wedding cake, beautiful and un-tampered. It took another couple of days for all the melt offs. It was as if winter reserved its best shows for its last days.

 

Today is a very clear and sunny day, probably the first one since I am here. The sunrays are all over and not just in spotlights. I have left all my windows open as wide as I can to welcome the fresh air and the aroma of nature that’s blossoming around and also to let out all the dampness and cooking odors from the inside. I was wondering of all such things people are gifted with in a life time that goes unnoticed and without appreciation. The pleasures of a warm and pleasant climate will certainly make top on my list of things taken for granted.

 

And no wonder why Mr. Jones looked so gloomy and withered all through these past months. His branches reaching up to my bedroom window gives a wonderful view of his tiny green leaflets growing all over his dried up branches. His tenants are back. A birdie with a nice cozy nest is brooding over her precious ones. I am guessing its a Thrush family. In a couple of days I am hoping to find the nature back in sounds and colors again.

 

The first day of spring is one thing, and the first spring day is another. The difference between them is sometimes as great as a month. (Henry Van Dyke)

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April 11, 2013

 

Oh! Yesterday was one scary night. We had a thunder storm forecast with a full package. Tornadoes, hail, strong winds you name it.While I was taking my morning break I had this feeling that I should try and pen down the pictures of last night’s t-storm. Thankfully, the horrors of last night didn’t come our way which is probably why I feel more motivated to write this peice. These are times when we feel sure that someone above is watching over us.

There was a warning siren before it all started. It stayed on for a couple of minutes making sure everyone with an eardrum around a particular radius takes notice. Honestly, for the first time in life I felt fear for the rain. I stood by the window watching it for some time just when a vivid flash of lightning followed by its better half struck. I was so spooked that I took a hurdle and landed on the other side of my bed. And that was a complete reflex action; because under normal circumstances I am totally incapable of making any such wild physical movements. Hubby and I found our take-and-run belongings and debated for a while whether or not to go down to the shelter. He was more worried about our most valuable possession parked outside under the bare sky with threats about a hail on the way. We were concerned because a year back around this time there was a surprise hail which smashed away all the cars in the parking lot.

 

Since we couldn’t come to a decision we tried peering through our glass windows to try and make out what our neighbors were doing only to find them doing the same. Finally, we switched on the weather channel to see what the weather guy had to tell. After 10-15 minutes we were relieved to hear that the weather was calming down to just thunder, lightning and storm. It seemed, the tornado stopped at around 8 miles from here and decided to stay and wreck the place down. The hail did the same on the way. Luckily for us either of them didn't feel like paying us a visit.

 

We stayed in our rooms feeling happy and relieved that we had each other’s company to cut through the storm. We stood by the windows watching the storm. Mr. Jones was swaying so wild. That’s when I remembered Mr. Jones’ new tenants. I could make out the nest in the dim lightning and the lady sitting there all wet and swooped inside the space of her tiny nest. I knew the poor thing did not stand a chance in such unkind weather. I hoped and prayed Mr. Jones kept her safe somehow. I stood by the window watching her because that’s all I could do. I couldn’t reach out for her through the window or even go outside to get her if she falls let alone climb up the tree before she does. As the time went by I found that the lady lasted longer than I assumed she would. I knew then that I didn’t have to worry about them at all in the first place.

I woke up this morning and the first thing I did was check on how Mr. Jones and his tenant were doing. Mr. Jones looked weary and tired of the last night’s ordeal but his limbs were all intact. The lady and her nest were safe, drenched and cold; all hunched down but alive and safe.

 

But the dove found no place to set her foot, and she returned to him to the ark, for the waters were still on the face of the whole earth. So he put out his hand and took her and brought her into the ark with him. (Genesis 8:9)