I comply with G.B.Shaw’s quote “There is no love sincerer than the love of food”. As far my cynicism towards romantic love goes, the optimism towards food just intensifies. I have an unwritten rule for every relationship: What (Who)ever you love, never abuse it, be mindful. I apply this formula to my perpetual lover who is not just the basic need for human body, but also a cultural marker of any society.
Food is always a magic portal for any new relationship, also serves for breaking ice. Like the new pope who buys pizza and drinks to the old pope in “The two Popes” movie to put aside their difference and warm up to each other. There is one running joke of an incident that happened in my family. As we all know the new groom’s pride immediately after the marriage gets over, a feud happened between two families over food and finance. The aunt of mine, in the heat of situation said, “Even if u don’t have lunch, please have bajji and tea before leaving”. Everyone just laughs even now since the groom left the place in a befitting rage after hearing her. Thinking about it now, she just voiced over to calm down the situation through food and the words maybe got articulated wrongly. How miserable humans are fighting over such trivial things?
l’arte d’arrangiarsi is an Italian phrase for “Art of making something out of nothing”. Elizabeth Gilbert in “Eat, Pray, Love” referred it as anyone with a talent for happiness can do this, not only rich. I say, with a bit of ingenuity anyone will have this talent when the need arises. Like my mom, when in our great financial crisis in teenage prepared a potato curry and maida chapathi, of which both potatoes and maida are very less cost. The taste persists in my memory like an elephant, only that we have never faced such hardship later nor mom could recreate the same again.
The daily affair in my father’s childhood for filling all the kid’s hungry stomach was a bit challenging for his mother. The woman who lost her life in her tender age without proper care comes up with so many creative ideas to satiate the family like her famous palm jaggery coffee or sugar filled idlis. Even, to much of the poverty faced, she still hands a few bits of palm jaggery in the kid’s little palms whenever they ask is only enchanting for me and dad still tear up whenever he says this associated with the memory of his loving mother.
One of my aunt’s son cries all through the night and he needs to be strolled putting him on shoulder. Oh, hail all mothers (also me), whenever the child cries its always only hunger. I used to feed my daughter incessantly and only to clean up after her, because of that little gut cant keep up so much. I learned slowly not to shove anything down her throat, be it food or my opinions and wishes. My aunt still used to remind that nowadays we have so many options of readymade snacks, whereas she used to prepare dosas of wheat flour mixed with jaggery, the only items she had at home for the colicky child, who still cries after chomping those sweet pancakes. Yet I must tell you he is the most silent and obedient child in the family now.
Though I grew up now to be of a coffee-loving person who wants to drown inside the caffeine to run my day, I still recollect the memory of the ginger tea I had in 2013 when our car broke down in the middle of nowhere in UttarPradesh, while we were returning to Delhi from Rishikesh. One kind guy and his family welcomed us to their home and gave us blankets and tea in the cold winter. I still do not know why the tea tasted so much. Is it because the grandma at home put her quilt and hands around me to give extra warmth or her grandson who said he met with an accident before few days and even though no one helped him at that time, he still wants to be kind? Some people are Angels on earth with their phenomenal benevolence.
One sister-in-law of my mother used to prepare 2 kinds of dosas. One for her husband which is brown, crispy and with ghee and another black, charred, and smoky for the husband’s brother. Also, with a small note in a piece of paper who should eat which in the tiffin box. This turns out to be our bedtime fun story. Another sister-in-law is, ouch, little harsh that she poured the water inside the thick gravy and kicked the cooker vessel towards mom, her sister and grandfather. When in actual they went to their home while mom was getting treatment over illness. So, grandfather rented a small house and mom’s sister used to make the same channa dal snake gourd curry and rice daily with the only ingredients she had. Since they did not have a proper stove, she also used to buy notebooks from old newspaper shop and tears those pages to generate fire. Of course, the award for topmost artist of “l’arte d’arrangiasi” goes to her. The inherent caring nature between siblings or with each other makes our human species a unique one.
Timber Haweye in his podcasts used to finish always by saying “Thank you for being the soldier of peace in the army of love and we are here to enrich each other’s lives”. It is a food for thought. For me food in itself is a thought to be loved and celebrated.
One of my favourite chefs is Julia Child. Everyone adores her for the simplicity and straight forward approach in cooking such an extraordinary French cuisine, who are the patrons of Michelin star. In her book “My Life in France” she has said “I discovered that when one follows the artist’s eye, one sees unexpected treasures in so many seemingly ordinary scenes”. I have witnessed so many treasures in both food and people and still am ravenous for more experience.
At this moment like her with same cheerful, warbly voice I shout out “Bon Appetit” to both body and mind, for them to hum with contentment.
