Born to eat!

Funny i haven't blogged about my passion for life... food... yet!
Rarely is found a person who truly believes that she is born to eat! Each morsel is divine...each spoonful...utter bliss!

You would find it difficult to believe, but I used to be a scrawny l'il kid. I puked out whatever went in, consistently, without fail, to the point of boring predictability...till about age 8. My parents sought opinions from various child specialists. Many tonics later, I still detested food! And then, suddenly, almost overnight, after my shift to Mumbai, better sense prevailed! I turned from loathing food to scavenging for it! I guess I had to make up for the first 8 years of my life... somehow, I'm still making up for them!!

My earliest memories of eating out are at Jaipur's family restaurants; breaking my first of a zillion 'naan's and digging into the wonder that is 'butter dripping pav bhaji' at the statue circle.
I think I officially started my love affair with food around age 12, when I used to come back from a mid semester exam, ravenous and craving for a solid brunch! Mom satiated my taste buds with an assortment of breads, eggs, milk and cheese, or idlis doused in hot sambhar or puttu-kadla (a mallu speciality). I developed a rather healthy appetite (for a girl!) and have heartily maintained it even now.

From then began a beautiful journey, of exploring different cuisines and savouring the tastes and flavours. I then learned to respect the different ingredients that go into any dish. Be it pumpkin or ginger, or the irritating kari patta that my mom just had to let seep into any and every dish she prepared. Every leaf, every seed had its magical presence felt. I developed some tastes along the way, like that of fish, or of brinjal, acquired tastes, both.

Here at DoMS Chennai, I was probably one of the few people who even over-ate in the mess! The gastronomic journey here was quite a memorable one. The all purpose Dhaba express and its tangdi kabab, or the Besant Nagar joints with its continental fare (Pupil, a favourite!), Annapurna, the abode of divine Bengali food, Tandoor and its quintessential classic sit-down dinner, the Residency buffet, Kumarakom’s mallu fare, Murugan idli’s amazing idlis or the ECR’s variegated joints beckoning one to partake of their fare under the azure sky: I will miss them all. Not to forget our pantry uncle’s tasty home made stuff that we sorely missed in our second year, or Tiffany’s coffee and Basera’s biriyani.

From what has been my humble experience in relishing even mundane items, I have come to philosophize about the very act of consuming food. Is there anything that parallels a hot paratha with dal makhani served with a dollop of butter or a steaming idli with an assortment of chutneys hot enough to burn an Andhra tongue? I think not. Food provides solace to all who turn to it. How many times have you binged on a chocolate fantasy when that heart got broken? And how many times did you get ready and attend the most boring party/wedding/gathering in hope of the free food? How many times did you celebrate with food? And how many times did you find comfort in it, comfort that no mortal being could bring to you?

Food is a great leveller… There is a vada pav vendor near Kirti college, Dadar, in Mumbai. He makes vada pavs that are simply out of this world. And to this small shanty like structure, come daily pilgrims of all sizes and shapes, rich and poor, in car and on foot, in Land Rovers and Indicas (they are the same family now, anyway), for the same purpose: to quell that insane craving for a vada pav out of this world.
Wherever you go, and whatever you become, that familiar rumbling in your stomach will bind you together with the billions and billions of others, tying you with a feeling that cuts across space and time.

Well, they say money can’t buy everything, but for gourmets (or gourmands) like me, money can certainly buy small pieces of heaven on earth!