Anu Chenji

“Now flap your arms and walk around the room.”

Done.

“Now raise your arms above your head and make a buzzing noise like a bee as you go around the rom once more.”

A kindergarten class in progress you think? You’re waay off!

Hubby, being a pretty good singer and having been pushed by wife who cannot sing into restarting a band  in his midlife, has decided  to go in for voice training classes to… limber up. He casts around and finds a visiting teacher. A French-Canadian lady who’s here for a few months and starts off lessons. So she asks him during the first session about whether his family sings too. He can’t hide the facts (what if she says bring your wife along and we can all sing together?!!) and so says no, my wife thinks she’s the worst singer in the world!

The teacher’s teacherly pride is aroused – she announces, “There is no one in the world who cannot sing – ask her to come and I will train her !”

Husband comes back and relates this conversation to me. I am thrilled -obviously she’s a very wise woman who knows something that I have secretly suspected all along – that inside me is an MS Subbalakshmi just waiting to be discovered!

And so, next morning, we get ready half an hour earlier than we need to – music lessons are serious stuff, after all! And then begins this thing about walking around a room humming, flapping one’s wings, buzzing and so on. I love drama so I’m quite happy to add a twirl or two and pirouette as we flap and prance around the room – a class of two people – husband and me! Hubby not so happy as he’s a bit self-conscious – not at all proper for a corporate type to be jumping around like a frog and buzzing like a bee! But he puts up with it.

We do this for a while and then she says, now sing a note. And takes off on a “laaaaaaaaaaaa… ”

Husband takes a deep breath and is about to start his “laaa… ” but I am quicker on the uptake and go “laaa… aaa… aaa… splutter… ahem… laa” obviously hitting the wrong note!

Teacher and husband are stunned into silence. But I have my eyes closed in concentration and so take a deep breath to continue “LAAAA… aaa… AAA… “ and can’t see their faces – frozen in shock! After a while, it sinks in that it’s only my voice and that there’s supposed to be two voices. So I open the blinkers and grin at them happily. I have done my first vocal exercise!

The class stutters to a halt after that – the teacher feeling a bit faint (in the heat, she says!)

We go home and i am FULL of my class to anyone who will listen. Two days later, I am ready – again bright and early for the next class. We get a message saying the teacher is unwell and class is cancelled.

A week later, we get news she has moved… to Beijing! And thence back to Canada!

Too bad – she missed a chance to create another MS!

Corny story – you say? Every word is as it actually happened!

Like this corny delicacy from the centre of India – Madhya Pradesh’s famous…

BHUTTE KA KHEES

• Frozen corn – 1/2 kg. (the original called for grating fresh corn but I am cooking in Madras in the summer – so frozen corn it shall be!
• Green chilies – 3-4 – minced
• Ginger – 1″ piece – grated
• Jeera/cumin seeds – 1/2 tsp
• Asafoetida/hing– 1 generous pinch
• Turmeric – 1/4 tsp
• Milk – 1 cup
• Salt
• Pepper – 1/4 tsp (optional)
• Ghee – 1 tbsp

TO GARNISH

• Grated fresh coconut – 2 tbsp
• Chopped coriander – 2 tbsp
• Juice of 1 lemon

Instead of grating the ginger and micning green chilies, one short cut i use all the time is pulse them together along with the jeera in the small mixer jar.

Pulse half the frozen corn also separately in another jar and set aside.

Heat the ghee in a saucepan and add the jeera-cumin-green chili mixture. Add the asafoetida and turmeric.

Add the ground corn and the whole corn kernels. Add the milk, salt and pepper and cook without a lid on a low flame, stirring occassionally till corn is tender. You may need to add a little water if it becomes too dry.

Take off, let it cool a little, sprinkle over the coconut and coriander and lemon juice.

Remember to serve with a smile – who knows when your talents in the singing line may be discovered and you might just be serving a Rehman!

“Let’s see who finishes their juice first,” challenges my brother Arvind. At four years, he’s just a year older than me and we haven’t yet grown to the stage where I get smarter than him!

Being very young and very gullible, I promptly glug my juice down.

I’ve related in an earlier episode my epic capacity for stretching out every meal to an at least two hour session and sometimes more… the one exception to this was any kind of juice – bottled non-fizzy drinks were good but home made lime “juth” as we called it, was the best and we could between us polish off several large jugfuls!

That we were supposed to put it inside us was understood but that large quantities invariably ended up all around us and outside of our stomachs was a fallout from being given juice in very large jugs which we couldn’t handle but were happy to drink out of – the more the juice, the sweeter the juice, the merrier and stickier the kids!

And so back to my brother’s challenge – who’ll finish their juice faster. Invariably I’d end up forgetting what had happened the previous time and proceed to glug down the juice at a tremendous speed and proudly announce that I was DONE! Upon which, my brother would promptly turn around and jeer, “naana naana naanaa… (or something like that!); YOUR juice is over; I’VE still got mine!” and proceed to slowly drink it right in front of my eyes, relishing every drop!

My jaw would drop, I would stare at his glass, still gloriously almost full, my chin would begin to tremble and the fat drops would gather and no, no gentle tears rolling down, rather full-fledged lungs gathering to bawl out loudly, lustily and long!! The bawling would have its effect – one or both of the parents would come charging in, berating him for teasing a smaller sibling! But, and it was a very important but, he would have had his moment in the sun and when you are three or four years old, that moment is all that matters, right?!

It took me all of three or four years to catch on to this game and then, of course, he moved on to another one… and three or four years later… you get the drift?

Those moments in the sun may be important but just now, in miserably hot and humid Chennai, the moments are far too many to handle and have me searching out old and forgotten recipes which involve little or no cooking… remembered one of these and adapted it to tonight’s dinner – a no-cook poha (beaten rice) dish from Maharashtra called…

DADAPE POHE

• Thin poha – 4 cups (red poha or thick poha won’t do)
• Chopped onions – 1 cup
• Grated coconut – 1 cup
• Grated mango – 1/4 cup
• Grated carrot – 1
• Chopped cucumber – 1
• Minced green chilies – 2-3
• Chopped mint and / or coriander – 3 tbsp
• Juice of 1 lemon
• Sugar – 1.5 tsp
• Salt
• Jeera powder – 1/2 tsp

Mix everything together and season with 1 tsp mustard seeds, a large pinch of asafoetida and 2 tbsp of curry leaves in 2 tbsp of oil.

Let everything rest for about ten minutes – the poha is softened by the juices in the vegetables and coconut. All you need is a bowl of yogurt or even better – several glasses of majjiga (buttermilk) or, best of all, a large jug of fresh lime juice – be sure to get it all in your tummy!

(The original recipe calls for only onions and coconut but I like my veggies!)

 

Ever had that happen to you? And if you say no, I will have no qualms in calling you a liar!

That half a green plantain because two and a half is correct but the half more is not! The half a cup of yogurt or sambar that you just can’t throw away (if you grew up in India or are born of Indian parents living outside India, this still holds true – you just cannot bring yourself to throw away food!) Annapoorna, the Goddess of Food, will disown you and your stomach will never be full again!  Notice that food here is spelt with a capital F – as it should be! Every religion in a land which has seen famines many times has some form of taboo about wasting/throwing away food!

“Hi baby. All okay?” I’m calling home from office mid-morning during the summer vacation.

The kids are alone at home for a while till my father-in-law is due to come to spend the day with them. An extremely doting granddad, the kids are excited to have their thatha at home.

“Yes, amma. Guess what? I made an omelette for thatha!” she announces excitedly.  Excited because she’s only seven years old and making an omelette is an achievement!

“Whaaa? An omelette? Let me speak to him”, I ask.

He comes on the line, hemming and hawing.

“How come you ate an omelette today, Appa? Amma said that I should make food without onions for you because it’s your dad’s thevasam?”

(Thevasam is the annual death ceremony that Hindus perform to both appease and honour their forebears. It is also a day when you have a sort of restricted fast-foods like onions and garlic are strictly prohibited. Eggs are definitely out of the question and he has been warned sternly by his wife that he cannot even eat onions today!)

“Urp… errr… noo… you see… duh… urrr… the omelette did not have any onions in it!” he finally blurts out sheepishly!

I get the whole story from my kids when I get back home. I know my father-in-law is inordinately fond of eggs and not at all fond of rituals (both of which I have in common with him!) and normally there are always eggs in the house. That morning, we’d run out of eggs and I hadn’t had time to order before leaving for work. So Appa (that’s what I call my pop-in-law) comes home, opens the fridge and sees… no eggs! Some @#$%#@%&^%* happens and then he sends the watchman out to buy… an egg! That’s right – just the one! (So that he can hide the traces in case mom-in-law drops in unexpectedly!)

Carefully, he’s asked Arch to make an omelette for him without onions! So that in case he’s asked later about what he ate for the day, he can say completely truthfully that he followed her instructions to the T and did not eat any onions! Dennis must have been modelled on Appa!

This story has passed into family folklore along with a million funny remembrances of a wonderful man who along with his Dennis-esque qualities also had a real talent for malapropisms and spoonerisms!!

And so… on to our recipe. Obviously such an egg-y story has to have an egg-y ending… so here is the most delicious…

EGG PASTE FOR SANDWICHES

• Just boiled eggs – 4 (the yolks should be set and just not runny.

And did you think anyone could boil an egg? Think again! There is an art to this. Here’s a tutorial… Wash eggs well but don’t crack them in the process.

Check for freshness by placing in a bowl of water. Floaters – chuck them out – they’re not committed!! Sinkers – great – they’re our anchors!

Place a tsp of  salt in water in a bowl. Gently slip in eggs. The water should just cover the eggs. Cook the eggs initially on a low flame for 2 minutes. Stir a few times so the yolks stay centred. Otherwise they tend to slip to one side – a bit like our waistlines do when we don’t stirabout  in our youth! Increase the heat and bring to a boil. Boil for about 3-4 minutes. Remove and dunk in cold water. Let cool and peel carefully – this is the best part – I love peeling eggs!

• Grated cheese – 1/4 cup – Cheddar is great
• Ketchup – 3 tsp
• Pepper and salt
• Mayonnaise – 2 tbsp
• Mustard paste – best to grind your own – 1 tsp (1 tsp mustard seeds in a few drops of water – grind away in a stone mortar)
• Milk – 1 or 2 tbsp
• Chopped herbs of your choice – I prefer fresh basil

Using a fork, press down the rest of the ingredients into the eggs.

Sandwich! White soft sandwich bread is best but use brown if you have to!

And please note – this recipe is to honour my dear father-in-law and therefore has NO onions!

“HELLO, uncle!” says a cheery voice.

“Grunt!”

“How are you, uncle?” (voice drops an octave)

“Humphh!”

“Is… (one of our daughters) at home?” (slightly less confident tone!)

“Grrr.”

Any of you who has daughters will recognise this conversation – the classic father-of-a-daughter vs any guy who seems to be getting too keen!

From being a dad who taught his daughters to sing Jim Reeves’ “But you love me Daddy” as soon as they started to lisp to learning to tolerate their various guy friends was a huge step for hubby! Tolerate is the word, anything beyond would be… impossible! I keep reminding him that he was in the same position once vis-a-vis my dad but his explanation for that is a breathtakingly cocky, “But I was a good guy… always!!”

And so say all the rest of the dads… of daughters!

My daughters were born into a family which hadn’t had a daughter in… sixty years! My father-in-law, quite sure that I’d give him a granddaughter, told me that I could have any gift I wanted from him provided I had a girl! “What if it’s a boy?” I asked – since I didn’t have any clue at all about what the baby was going to be – no, never had any instinctual thing about the gender of the baby that moms-to-be are supposed to feel!

“Then you get nothing!” was his unequivocal response!

I laughed and went off and had my baby – a daughter and sure enough, the minute I was back on my feet, he bought me my very first set of my own wheels – a 2-wheeler – wheels which gave me more pleasure than almost any other gift I received!

The minute I got the bike, I took off – sans licence, sans RC book, sans insurance papers and went round and round the block, which I did not realise had a police station on the way!

Some smart cop must have been watching – I got caught on my third chukker and since I wasn’t even carrying a purse, I couldn’t pay the fine! Promptly had the bike impounded and sheepishly went back home in an auto – ignominy compounded by having to borrow money to pay the auto! Pop-in-law was the truly the top of the pops – not a word of censure or blame, paid the auto and came with me to the police station to retrieve the bike and later told me that all he felt was relief at seeing me get out of the auto in one piece!

Dads or dads-in law – they’re the very best!

Like this happy fusion of East and West – Lebanese and Thai married by an Indian roti in the middle!

FOR WRAPS

Make large rotis – tawa-fried (pan fried) with a few drops of oil on each side. The oil ensures that the filling does not make the roti soggy.

FOR SALAD

• Purple cabbage – 1 cup – shredded
• White cabbage – 1 cup – shredded
• Onions – sliced very fine – 1 medium
• Apple – sliced into thin pieces – 1 – any crunchy apple will do – no woolly ones!
• Capsicum – green or coloured – 1  – cut into thin strips

FOR SALAD DRESSING

• Roasted peanuts – 1/2 cup
• Green chilies – 1 or 2
• Sugar – 1 generous tsp
• Salt
• Raw mango (if available) – shredded – 2-3 tbsp
• Juice of 1 lemon
• Fresh mint leaves – 2-3 tbsp

Pulse everything together in the mixie – till the peanuts break up a bit. Do NOT grind fine.

FOR HUMMUS

• Boiled chickpeas – 1 cup
• Garlic flakes – 4-5 large ones
• Thick yogurt – 1/2 cup or juice of 1 lemon if you don’t have this. But yogurt makes a creamier hummus.
• Green chili – 1
• Salt

Whip everything except yogurt up in the mixer to a smoothish, slightly grainy consistency. Add yogurt and pulse for a few seconds.

TO ASSEMBLE

Mix salad dressing with the vegetables.

Smear 1 tbsp of hummus all over one side of the roti. Place 3-4 tbsp of filling down the centre. Fold over. Keep doing till you can feed my army!