So we are
foodies. Unanimous ones. All of us. My dad, mum, sis,
my eighty year
old dadi. There is
no polite way to put
it, we love eating
and feeding people. Dishes and
meals aren’t essentially simple in our house. And if
somebody comes over, it is a veritable feast. The concept
for a simple dal
chawal hasn’t been around . the menu
would on an average day
mean 2 veg
dishes, a dal, rice
and roti with an assortment of pickles,
chutney and raita.
And oh!
Did I mention we have
a sweet mouth, yeah u heard
me right , not a sweet
tooth. But possibly a sweet mouth .. all 32
teeth (including my dadi’s denture). Slurpy hot
sticky gulab jamuns to melt
in your mouth soan papdi… we
relish and devour them all.
So planning for a
party is no mean feat. It
means racking our brains
and topping our culinary efforts every time.it
ha s arguments and
counter arguments , dishes
and accompaniments are
debated and mulled over. Individual and generic
preferences to be taken
care of.
With the first
rain hitting Delhi today, the
heat subsiding a little and
the occasional Delhi humidity dealt with, the
time is ripe
for a party. It is
cool as a cucumber, the breeze
is intoxicating and the terrace is
a perfect plac e to host a
relaxed dinner.
Armed with the delight that a
lovely weather brings , a rare free evening
and the slightly recent
discovery of Kitchens Of India
by my mum, we are all geared
up for a party.
The terrace
has been cleaned,
and a small waterproof
tent put up. Groups of small tables
and chairs have
been put out for a
casual dining ambience. Keeping in theme of
welcoming monsoons, my artistically
inclined sister ha s put
out centerpieces. Delicate strands
of mogra are spilling out of
wine goblets on each table, filling the
air with their heady
fragrances.
The lip smacking dishes
are simmering away, ready to
be served, garnished with
a range of
herbs and dallops
of my mum’s love.I can see the
Mirch Ka Salan..
enticing and extravagant.
There is chicken for us
non- vegetarians- an array to
feast on- Chicken
Chettinad with the
delicate aroma of
curry leaves. The spicy Methi Murg-
a personal favourite- i can’t
wait to dip hot
butter slathered naan in the curry
and feel the explosion
of flavors on my tongue.
For the rare
veggie amongst us- there is Dal Bukhara
and Paneer Darbari -each of
them a reflection
of india’s eons of culinary skill and passion. The melt in mouth pieces
of paneer and the ghee tadka
which is being added
- promise a finger licking delight.
My dadi
has opened the
huge aluminum patila- I can
smell the cardamom and cloves
in the rice.it is
time to set out the pickles and chutneys-
we are experimenting
with Papaya Raisin
and Carrot Blackpepper today. My dad’s favorite
Tangy Tamarind
And Dates is not left
behind either.
Hot Moong Dal Halwa and
slices of vanilla ice cream
with a generous drizzle
of chocolate sauce
will be served.
It is way past
dusk now. The extended
family will descend soon. It will be a time
for food
and merriment ,unending gossip
and lingering over
nightcaps. The air will fill
with strains of
music and gazals. The pitter patter of raindrops
has started again.
I have a huge
smile on my face. It is time to open up or
home and hearth.
No comments:
Post a Comment