Cooking in times of Corona

 

The wafting aroma of cooking ghee and the sweet smell of cardamom tickle my nostrils and have me salivating as I stir the contents of the pan. Coconut burfi in thick sweetened condensed milk, a concoction I am trying out for the first time, is in its final stages. I remain vigilant to see if the contents of the vessel swirl enough to leave its sides, ready to be poured out on to the greased plate. Within seconds, I bring my novel exercise to fruition. With a couple of shakes and tilts, the creamy creation paves itself evenly on the plate. Duly cooled, cut to diamond-shaped pieces and offered to God, JR my other half and I, relish it with gusto. The burfi couldn't have been more perfect, says JR, wolfing down countless pieces at a single shot.

My lips curl into an involuntary grin as I recall childhood memories, of the burfis and several other sweets and savouries that would take shape in the kitchen of a certain mami in our colony in Delhi. Mami (for obvious reasons I refer to her thus) would generously share the fruits of her toils on every festive occasion with neighbours who reciprocated her 'kind' gesture. We either risked losing a tooth or two biting into her preparations, or have our jaws stuck open with the sweets exhibiting a great degree of gummy elasticity. Needless to say, the reason for her liberality did not require a Sherlock Holmes to hazard a guess. Mami and family would get a sumptuous measure of goodies in return from friends whose culinary skills would have our tongues lusting for more. My mother was among these ladies who dished up mouth-watering delicacies with the aplomb of a professional star chef.

Mami's sweets, without doubt, disproved my paternal grandma's theory: "if you blend ghee and sugar any preparation is bound to taste good". A naturally undemanding and wonderful woman who was well ahead of her times, my grandmother was a trifle parsimonious with appreciation. I do recall, though, an exception to this ' throwing a wet blanket attitude'. It was when I, as an infant teen prepared upma with tomatoes and green chillis that grew in our backyard. These 'crops' had yet again been my handiwork for I had sown the seeds and tended them to bear this little yield. Grandma's enormous and whole-hearted praise had me on Cloud Nine and I airborne for several days after this, reminiscing the manner in which pati had enjoyed every morsel of the humble tiffin that I had made with great enthusiasm.

The present Corona Times, palpably has sent me on a journey down memory lane, as much as it has stirred up some creative juice - albeit in an area that is not in keeping with my temperament or inclination! Yes, I'm on a gastronomic odyssey, experimenting with epicurean delights from across the globe, inspired and fuelled by my daughter who is amazing at the art and finds cooking a great way to unwind.

A certain Wednesday during one of the lockdowns sees me admire to the point of adulation, an assortment of mango pickles I've concocted and created. I arrange the array in bottles of varied shapes and sizes, capture them on my digital device and post them on the family WhatsApp group. Immensely proud of my creations, I impatiently await my siblings' response to the post.

Meanwhile, I make a call to my mother to update her on my latest tryst with pots, pans and ladles, having taken a sabbatical from writing, an art which she cherishes most. I feel myself a wily fox as I prepare the grounds to gain her approval of my new pastime, an activity which according to her could have been swapped for something in the world of words and letters. Or so I presume.

"Amma, did you see those pickle bottles, pictures of which I'd WhatsApped? See what staying indoors and the Corona has done to me, while your other daughter is adding endless feathers to her cap, creating magic in Toastmasters, and your son is churning out paper after paper and authoring books"!

Amma obviously has not yet seem my photographs. But her response leaves me absolutely zapped and catapults me several tiers above Cloud Nine (well, if there is something like that!). "You know cooking is an art and there's so much creativity that goes into it! It's great you're taking a break from writing to explore another avenue of interest."

Well, amma has made my day. She has stamped her indelible seal of approval on how I am spending my time, away from pun and pen! Is a sexagenarian yet looking to be given a pat on the back by an octogenarian parent, or is it that the former is discovering a side to the latter hitherto not seen or sensed! As I ponder, the flavourful molecules of the cooking Hyderabadi Vegetable Biryani tickle my nostrils and jolt me out of my reverie...

 

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