I recently lost probably the most important person to me. My original cooking insrtuctor and my conscience, my maa.

Maa, didnt call me to the kitchen to show me how to make edible Bengali fish curry, or how knead flour to make rotis. What she did do, was let me cook and destroy her kitchen when I wanted to. There were uncountable disasters like the minted lettuce soup which my family so sweetly acknowledge as a brave attempt.

What I did inherit from her however was the need to have a variety on the table. This usualy means that I am never just happy with one daal and one subzi. There was always, some fish or chicken dish along with 2-3 differnt kinds of vegetables. And of course- Karela, which we (me and my sister) diligently ate till a certain age. Maa, made sure we at what we were supposed to.

It is strange but I never remember her telling us off at the dinner table. Or making us put things on our plate that we didnt want (this was after our adolecence was over) Yet, she did have an effect on how and what we ate. A quality that endures in me now.

I never quite got the hang of her fish curry. I still can sort of taste it on toungue. I will keep trying. All that I can do.....

She was Awesome.

Bhartaed

If there is one Indian subzi which excites even the most hardcore of carnivores and bhrasht hogs like me, its Baingan ka bharta. Inedible in almost every other form, this highly suggestively shaped vegetable becomes ambrosia when slow roasted over a fire (or even better over hot coal). That incredible burnt toasty smell… the burnt red chillies mixed in for good measure….pan tossed in onions if you like. Can anything sound like it came out of a very bad Indian version of the ‘inferno man’ and taste exactly the opposite?

Anyway my love for this king of bhartas made me want to have it one morning during my stay in Bangalore. My stay in Bangalore was a short one. I was working (the 1st time in my life). Me and my roommates had employed a very sweet but incompetent bai who did our cooking and cleaning. She was a terrible cook. The stuff she made was probably my inspiration to become a better cook. It was all so profoundly…bad. So me and my roommates subjected to bad food ate out a lot. However there wernt very many North Indian restaurants near our apartment. So delectable items like Daal Fry, Maa kee Daal and Baingan ka bharta were not readily available.

Anyway, as is often the case with me, I wake up thinking of either the woman in my life or of what I want to eat that day. I was having a dry spell with the ladies at the time (another catalyst of my cooking prowess). So I wake up one morning thinking only of Baingan Ka Bharta. I wait for our bai. It is an intermiable wait. As I have to figure out whether she knows how to cook it, and if yes should I risk asking her to make it.

She came on time which she never does. Hoping that was a good omen, I ask her about the bharta. I am going to try and recount most of the conversation. It is imperative you translate this conversation in Hindi and imagine my bai to be a small perpetually happy middle aged woman wearing her sari the way only bais seem to be able to. The way it never seems to hinder their working.

Me- Hi.
Bai- Hi baba
Me- So we baught some Baingans yesterday.
Bai- (shakes head.. the way they seem to South India and smiles)
Me- I was wondering whether you know how to make Baingan Kaa Bharta
Bai- (…Smiles)
Me- (slightly discouraged) You know….the baingan kaa subzi in which you roast the
Baingan on the fire.
Bai- (….Smiles)
Me- (about to give up). You know…(using hand actions to portray fire) put the baingan on the stove, roast it till it is done. Then cook the pulp in the pan with chillies.
Bai- (shakes head and smiles)
Me- So you do know how to make it.
Bai- Yes baba. I will make it.

(Now what is important to notice here is that she never admits that she KNOWS how to make it)

Me- Ok. So you will make it for dinner.
Bai- Yes baba. I will make it really well for you and other babas.
Me- (Smiling broadly). Ok then.

And I head off to work with the enthusiasm of a 12 year old boy who got his birthday present 8 months in advance and it was exactly what he wanted. I even enjoyed work that day. Feeding some data jargon to a HR executive in some semi-conductor firm seemed almost challenging. Don’t get me wrong, HR consulting is a serious job for serious minded people. Unfortunately I neither considered it a serious job nor was ever serious minded. That day however I treated it with a modicum of respect. I almost fooled my self in believing ‘hey this is not that bad’.

Lunch time seemed too long and pointless. The ‘Happy’s’ burger, which was the best burger under Rs 20 in Bangalore seemed to pale in comparison with the dream of baingan ka bharta and hot rotis in the evening. My smoke breaks reserved to thinking about nothing were filled purple colored dreams.

I finished work early so that I would get a ride back with my roommate. He was a friend from DSE, and a fellow lover of good food. I told him about the baingan kaa bharta and he started gleaming like a 12 year old boy who got his birthday present 8 months in advance and it was exactly what he wanted. He had an Enfield Thunderbird, the Indian version of the Harley. I don’t know how to drive a bike but that day I wish I did. I wanted to drive like the wind. Don’t get me wrong, my friend is no slouch behind the bars but ‘I’ wanted to drive that day. All along the way we were actually shouting ‘AAJ BAINGAN KA BHARTA KHAIENGAY’. Strangers were wondering whether they should call someone for help, or tell our families to have us committed.

Anyway the 45 minute ride (our offices were 6 Km away) finally was over and we were home. We could almost taste the bharta from the basement. We were dreaming the glasses of water we would have to drink after biting into each pan roasted red chillie. We got into our apartment and went straight to the kitchen where something did not smell right. It did smell like something was burnt there, but I was not sure what. The dark marks on the wall were a subtle hint.

Our other roommate was standing over a karhai with sort of a blank expression. He always came back home early. Early enough to see the bai make the dinner and recount to us in horror what he saw. Now this guy used pain relief spray as a deodorant, so you would not exactly call him discerning when it came to taste and smell. But apparently even he recoiled in horror at what he saw in the kitchen. The bai, had cut up the baingan. Covered them with oil (or not, he was not sure). Had them roasting on the tawa. The ones which were roasted she proceeded to light them on fire to give us what I had asked for. Then she had cooked them in a karhai with chillies which were also singed. She apparently had misunderstood what I meant by roasting the baingan. And the fact that you are suppose to cut it up after you have roasted it.

So a new form of Bharta got invented and I got what I deserved. I presumed too much and believed in a dream before it came true.

Baingan Ka Bharta
1 round fat eggplant/baingan
2-3 dried red chillies
Mustard oil
Salt
Black pepper/black salt

Roast the eggplant on an open fire turning it often so that the insides get nicely done. If you don’t have an accessible open fire this can also be done in the oven at 350 C (this will require less turning and more mitts).
Once the baingan is all nice and roasted and the insides are squishy and juicy, set it aside to cool. Remove the peel and mash the baingan into a pasty mixture.
Dry roast the red cillies on a pan till they blacken and you start coughing like a 70 yr old chain smoker. I prefer removing the seeds as I do not like my mouth to be on fire. But if you want to add them….whatever makes you happy.
Just add the oil and salts and you are done.

This is a distinct recipe. Variations include- not roasting the baingan completely and then cooking the pulp with onions and tomatoes. Let your kitchen be your playground. Be bold and experiment!!!

Pick-and-mix

Grated Carrots and Mustard Seeds.
No it is NOT gajar ka halwa or a Bengali's wet dream.
Lightly roast a few mustard seeds (in a teaspoon of vegetable oil if you prefer). Let them splutter splendidly. Then add the 5-6 grated carrots and stir fry/roast for about 4-5 mnutes. Then add about a teaspoon and half of granular sugar and salt to taste. Stir for about 2 minutes more. Just before taking it off the heat, add a teaspoon (or more depending on your pallate's desire for khattapan) of lemon juice.
Secret Step-Instead of a full teaspoon of lemon juice add half a teaspoon of lemon juice and half a teaspoon of white vinegar. This will make the carrots mushy. But if you prefer your carrots to be toasty, forget the vinegar.

Pick-and-mix does work well sometimes. Inside the kitchen and out.

From-An old freind's best friend's unintended tutorship